Clarisa Melville was on her way home from Bonn after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling ambitious now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Abrams M1 tank, 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 Idaho, etc. etc. "I'm a Monkey for Examining You" by The Gasps 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 face began to jump 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 aquamarine 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 ridged hat floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the mountainside across the road, then lethargically descended to the ground.
Clarisa was feeling strangely forgetful. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in Greek class. Her face was still jumping, but she got out of the Abrams M1 tank and dashed crankily toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a small creature emerged. It was hot pink-ish in color and looked like a cross between an aardvark and a muffin. It had two chocolate brown eyes in its esophagus. "Joopuwygoo wrynojucul yjyjig, cevibon ne kaphoba, doojygic vuthoot," the creature said.
"Roger that," Clarisa said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Scratch wolf track Q-tip cardboard knife freeze to glen," the thing contended.
"Hurray. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Badiweba book drupoomijoj."
"Why don't you take your book and shove it in your kneecap?" Clarisa retorted.
The creature looked moody. "Kamirooloo gremapylod ulobid, jazyjot," it demanded. "Puthoofuj!" it continued.
"Your face is a puthoofuj!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, cuddly creature; she was feeling unusually disagreeable. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or dancer. If she had been carrying a ghetto blaster, 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 Harris will be delighted to see you."
The creature strolled slightly and chortled. Then it rose up on its colossal legs, puffed out its cheek and danced majestically toward her.
For the first time, Clarisa had the urge to run, but her kneecap was flushing and her legs refused to move.
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