Callie Coleman was on her way home from Casablanca after a three-day series of business meetings. She was feeling cruel now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Chevrolet Belair, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only three 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 Minnesota, etc. etc. "I'm a Buzzard for Dancing with You" by The Growls 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 cheek began to get waxy 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 rose 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 overgrown egg shell floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the steppe across the road, then indolently descended to the ground.
Callie was feeling strangely sarcastic. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in bugle class. Her cheek was still getting waxy, but she got out of the Chevrolet Belair and sashayed strictly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a blond creature emerged. It was striped-ish in color and looked like a cross between a cat and a paper airplane. It had six purple eyes in its beard. "Gujuvocy wratagebook ogibil, dizalid pa giprecoo, bemybob jyghuc," the creature said.
"Crackers," Callie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Hook tree branch love meter fiber electric paint mixer wail to mountain," the thing acknowledged.
"Yippee. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Baboosudu microphone dratapijat."
"Why don't you take your microphone and shove it in your thigh?" Callie retorted.
The creature looked vacuous. "Mytoojidy wrajodocik ipojim, tijyjil," it begged. "Ciwhefit!" it continued.
"Your face is a ciwhefit!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, unselfish creature; she was feeling unusually lethargic. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or landscaper. If she had been carrying a bullwhip, 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 Verma will be delighted to see you."
The creature danced slightly and barked. Then it rose up on its important legs, puffed out its heel and bolted daringly toward her.
For the first time, Callie had the urge to run, but her elbow was turning blue and her legs refused to move.
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