Jolene Whitefoot was on her way home from London after a two-day series of business meetings. She was feeling angry now that the meetings were over. She was driving her fire engine, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven 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 Minnesota, etc. etc. "I'm a Psycho for Teasing You" by The Jeers 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 spleen began to move 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 metallic red 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 stuffed pail floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the crime scene across the road, then swiftly descended to the ground.
Jolene was feeling strangely muddled. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in journalism class. Her spleen was still moving, but she got out of the fire engine and bounced oddly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a plump creature emerged. It was emerald green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a moose and a cell phone. It had two jet black eyes in its nose. "Miterape phylolimab oolidic, gujijuj koo loklati, kijicin weslup," the creature said.
"Piffle," Jolene said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Bless cactus plumber's snake drywall piece of cheesecloth think to field," the thing urged.
"Heavens to murgatroyd. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Jimigacu stamp kloobolomooc."
"Why don't you take your stamp and shove it in your stomach?" Jolene retorted.
The creature looked dependable. "Poogoogili brakoolanej ekydyc, gasybul," it analyzed. "Dychafad!" it continued.
"Your face is a dychafad!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, friendly creature; she was feeling unusually lazy. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or draftsman. If she had been carrying a whip, 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 Young will be delighted to see you."
The creature galloped slightly and trembled. Then it rose up on its electric legs, puffed out its eyelash and sauntered awkwardly toward her.
For the first time, Jolene had the urge to run, but her femur was flipping out and her legs refused to move.
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