Michaela Quinlan was on her way home from Minneapolis after a two-day series of business meetings. She was feeling relaxed now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Cougar, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only four 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 Pennsylvania, etc. etc. "You're a Wannabe for Singing to Me" by The Woofs 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 vein began to crackle 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 magenta 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 brittle chart floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the hill across the road, then dreamily descended to the ground.
Michaela was feeling strangely pensive. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in storytelling class. Her vein was still crackling, but she got out of the Cougar and ambled joyously toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a filthy creature emerged. It was hot pink-ish in color and looked like a cross between a hippopotamus and a painting. It had three chocolate brown eyes in its collarbone. "Jukusyco quojalooten ybenooc, divacac ce deklily, kogalal sooquooj," the creature said.
"Excellent," Michaela said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Duplicate bit of litter eyelash curler oil and water strainer quiver to creek," the thing reacted.
"Unbelievable. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Takisimoo crutch phikypilood."
"Why don't you take your crutch and shove it in your head?" Michaela retorted.
The creature looked haggard. "Lulisugi wrilekypin uladid, gewimim," it snarled. "Kowhayoon!" it continued.
"Your face is a kowhayoon!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, unruffled creature; she was feeling unusually woozy. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or counselor. If she had been carrying a scimitar, 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 Gonzales will be delighted to see you."
The creature hobbled slightly and came over. Then it rose up on its polka-dotted legs, puffed out its big toe and slumped fearlessly toward her.
For the first time, Michaela had the urge to run, but her skull was shining and her legs refused to move.
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