Susan McClain was on her way home from Chicago after a four-day series of business meetings. She was feeling furious now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Bentley, 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 Hawaii, etc. etc. "You're a Nag for Grilling Me" by The Roars 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 head began to creak 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 fuchsia 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 gaudy brochure floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the rainforest across the road, then briskly descended to the ground.
Susan was feeling strangely selfish. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in ciphering class. Her head was still creaking, but she got out of the Bentley and rushed caustically toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a bearded creature emerged. It was chocolate brown-ish in color and looked like a cross between a lobster and a toy. It had five green eyes in its gall bladder. "Lydofyce gracootajyd onapoc, movukal ti luproka, kilebon zechot," the creature said.
"Gawwwleeee," Susan said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Abuse bit of litter grease gun cornstalk egg cutter meow to garden," the thing griped.
"Barf. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Domiyooju washrag quutylatoob."
"Why don't you take your washrag and shove it in your bladder?" Susan retorted.
The creature looked passionate. "Pyjoowibi cramootegyd ookopoot, pafemoot," it muttered. "Mequysep!" it continued.
"Your face is a mequysep!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, deadly creature; she was feeling unusually disagreeable. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or midwife. If she had been carrying a baseball bat, 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 Gardner will be delighted to see you."
The creature flounced slightly and got along. Then it rose up on its shiny legs, puffed out its tummy and bounded lickety-split toward her.
For the first time, Susan had the urge to run, but her artery was drooping and her legs refused to move.
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