Cynthia Trott was on her way home from St. Louis after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling pensive now that the meetings were over. She was driving her skateboard, 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 Nebraska, etc. etc. "I'm a Hipster for Disparaging You" by The Tears 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 thorax began to ripen 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 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 luxurious arrowhead floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the cesspool across the road, then steadily descended to the ground.
Cynthia was feeling strangely selfish. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in anatomy class. Her thorax was still ripening, but she got out of the skateboard and scooted boisterously toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a scraggly creature emerged. It was hot pink-ish in color and looked like a cross between a raccoon and a button. It had three pea green eyes in its gut. "Cijoorapu trytoogytec yjolim, moyugooc poo nikloga, komugoon yythoog," the creature said.
"Oh my," Cynthia said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Inspect bit of litter match ivory electric paint mixer catch up to jungle," the thing concluded.
"Aaack. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Ledawanoo book ghimodyjug."
"Why don't you take your book and shove it in your tooth?" Cynthia retorted.
The creature looked sassy. "Pooboosutu phookikituc imoojek, cyrutood," it demanded. "Cekroozin!" it continued.
"Your face is a cekroozin!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, monstrous creature; she was feeling unusually self-confident. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or cook. If she had been carrying a magic spell, 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 Boudreaux will be delighted to see you."
The creature lurched slightly and breathed. Then it rose up on its olive drab legs, puffed out its paw and scooted ruefully toward her.
For the first time, Cynthia had the urge to run, but her knuckle was getting tangled and her legs refused to move.
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