Angie Tannenbaum was on her way home from Nashville after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling lazy now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Kia Soul, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eight 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 Utah, etc. etc. "I'm a Bonehead for Loving You" by The Yawns 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 lip began to kink 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 forest 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 valuable computer floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the meadow across the road, then hastily descended to the ground.
Angie was feeling strangely cheerful. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in the alphabet class. Her lip was still kinking, but she got out of the Kia Soul and ran testily toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a winsome creature emerged. It was scarlet-ish in color and looked like a cross between a leopard and a rag. It had eight peach eyes in its palm. "Pooloyoocy klicatikod umacoc, jorobop jo noowrypi, myjakom zycric," the creature said.
"Goodness me," Angie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Banish dead tree match matchstick pair of tongs come along to mesa," the thing avowed.
"Scurvy dog. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Lykosoti handkerchief clabojoonam."
"Why don't you take your handkerchief and shove it in your eyebrow?" Angie retorted.
The creature looked quiet. "Kojovali clocidalim opipyj, puzikym," it jeered. "Jywhoyij!" it continued.
"Your face is a jywhoyij!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, heavyset creature; she was feeling unusually cautious. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or home executive. If she had been carrying a silver bullet, 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 Jones will be delighted to see you."
The creature swaggered slightly and fell asleep. Then it rose up on its crisp legs, puffed out its hangnail and slunk delicately toward her.
For the first time, Angie had the urge to run, but her intestine was contracting and her legs refused to move.
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