Clarisse Ulster was on her way home from Cambridge after a three-day series of business meetings. She was feeling cruel now that the meetings were over. She was driving her monster truck, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eleven drinks with dinner. The drone of the engine and tires was taking its toll, and she was having that familiar internal discussion about just having an hour more of driving, but she should really stop and rest, but it's not really safe to stop alongside the road in this remote part of Oklahoma, etc. etc. "I'm a Nitwit for Singing to You" by The Snickers was squawking on the radio. She was too tired to search for something better.
Suddenly, she was wide awake. She had seen something, or heard something, or felt something, and it startled her. She didn't know what it was, but her gut began to crack and her heart was pounding in her chest.
She wasn't consciously aware of stopping her vehicle, but found herself parked on the shoulder of the road, staring at a bright pulsing rose light in the sky. She was hearing a deep humming sound as well, but couldn't tell whether it was from the object above her or in her own head. The radio for some reason was silent. The light grew larger as it approached, and it began to take on a shape, sort of like a huge fresh hacksaw floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the hayfield across the road, then dreamily descended to the ground.
Clarisse was feeling strangely muddled. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in German class. Her gut was still cracking, but she got out of the monster truck and barrelled thankfully toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a suave creature emerged. It was ivory-ish in color and looked like a cross between a lynx and a Bunsen burner. It had seven tan eyes in its waist. "Gegoofanoo dratinicag ebeleb, luhinug da gewroopi, kymeteg hefrek," the creature said.
"Gawwwleeee," Clarisse said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Fortify fish makeup brush bubble potato masher cheer to cave," the thing tittered.
"Oh dear. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Ketoocakoo pinwheel thapapyjyj."
"Why don't you take your pinwheel and shove it in your ankle?" Clarisse retorted.
The creature looked frumpy. "Latefyme quacijypuc ykucoc, doosebib," it brought up. "Moflaroot!" it continued.
"Your face is a moflaroot!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, portly creature; she was feeling unusually self-confident. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or researcher. If she had been carrying a crossbow, the conversation might have taken a very different turn.
"So, what are you here for? I suppose you want me to take you to my leader. I'm sure President England will be delighted to see you."
The creature tramped slightly and wandered. Then it rose up on its porcelain legs, puffed out its forehead and breezed boisterously toward her.
For the first time, Clarisse had the urge to run, but her adrenal gland was relaxing and her legs refused to move.
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