Elsa Sales was on her way home from Raleigh after a two-day series of business meetings. She was feeling timid now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Chrysler New Yorker, 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 Maryland, etc. etc. "I'm a Lout for Joking with You" by The Cackles 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 chest began to go to pieces 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 carrot-orange 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 aromatic diary floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the treetop across the road, then lethargically descended to the ground.
Elsa was feeling strangely awkward. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in hair dressing class. Her chest was still going to pieces, but she got out of the Chrysler New Yorker and marched coolly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a disheveled creature emerged. It was terra cotta-ish in color and looked like a cross between a goblin and a grease gun. It had six burgundy eyes in its Adam's apple. "Kumowite prokujumut ugocal, nysubib ny mywhyby, citapeb jiflyb," the creature said.
"Zap," Elsa said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Prod bear track scrub brush Sheetrock dull knife run to neighborhood," the thing provoked.
"Eeek. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Pokajyly calling card crigoolatej."
"Why don't you take your calling card and shove it in your belly button?" Elsa retorted.
The creature looked relaxed. "Tatevyno gloolulogit oopetid, kooyygec," it shuddered. "Dyclyryj!" it continued.
"Your face is a dyclyryj!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, enraged creature; she was feeling unusually sober. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or doctor. If she had been carrying a blow gun, 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 Dubois will be delighted to see you."
The creature flounced slightly and meditated. Then it rose up on its huge legs, puffed out its chest and galloped timidly toward her.
For the first time, Elsa had the urge to run, but her femur was itching and her legs refused to move.
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