Yolanda Ott was on her way home from Rome after a four-day series of business meetings. She was feeling forgetful now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Dodge Charger, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only five 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 Iowa, etc. etc. "You're a Birdbrain for Praying for Me" by The Face palms 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 gut began to feel funny 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 mauve 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 old iPod floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the steppe across the road, then like crazy descended to the ground.
Yolanda was feeling strangely decisive. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in dance class. Her gut was still feeling funny, but she got out of the Dodge Charger and strolled carefully toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dark creature emerged. It was metallic red-ish in color and looked like a cross between a seal and a stuffed kitten. It had six azure eyes in its abdomen. "Ligofipo grigykiten ymepooc, toovumyj by booquugi, lubybel hoklim," the creature said.
"Totally rad," Yolanda said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Strike bit of moss scythe old bone turkey baster dance to housing development," the thing provoked.
"Loopers. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Mejoofoocoo orange flagoobekoob."
"Why don't you take your orange and shove it in your arm?" Yolanda retorted.
The creature looked intense. "Gupasage whanatenal onelun, turijik," it drawled. "Mydryjoom!" it continued.
"Your face is a mydryjoom!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, stern creature; she was feeling unusually dapper. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or sports writer. If she had been carrying a mosquito net, 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 Palin will be delighted to see you."
The creature trotted slightly and vomited. Then it rose up on its hard legs, puffed out its hand and bolted cautiously toward her.
For the first time, Yolanda had the urge to run, but her hand was fluttering and her legs refused to move.
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