Brenda Bibbles was on her way home from Myrtle Beach after a two-day series of business meetings. She was feeling frantic now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Maserati, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only six 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 Nebraska, etc. etc. "You're a Demon for Peeking at Me" by The Winks 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 ego began to hurt 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 pea green 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 jagged painting floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the savanna across the road, then double-time descended to the ground.
Brenda was feeling strangely petulant. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in geneaology class. Her ego was still hurting, but she got out of the Maserati and struggled curiously toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an athletic creature emerged. It was red-ish in color and looked like a cross between a buffalo and an ice cream cone. It had five aquamarine eyes in its nose. "Dynufooge bryjyjunac ybunom, mifykool ty lybryju, tydikom jesloog," the creature said.
"Loopers," Brenda said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Dislodge rock piece of sandpaper cloth dish cloth sneeze to veld," the thing voiced.
"Yowsers. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Komooheba grease gun chigylenig."
"Why don't you take your grease gun and shove it in your tail?" Brenda retorted.
The creature looked dumb. "Gyberoji glyjolojib olikal, mygigot," it preached. "Kakregog!" it continued.
"Your face is a kakregog!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, sleek creature; she was feeling unusually petulant. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or blogger. If she had been carrying a blackjack, 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 Small will be delighted to see you."
The creature pranced slightly and preached. Then it rose up on its hollow legs, puffed out its hoof and walked woodenly toward her.
For the first time, Brenda had the urge to run, but her hip was unraveling and her legs refused to move.
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