Morgan Manley was on her way home from Oklahoma City after a two-day series of business meetings. She was feeling peculiar now that the meetings were over. She was driving her SUV, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only ten 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 Montana, etc. etc. "I'm a Shrimp for Tricking You" by The Woofs 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 dignity began to whistle 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 pink 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 torn comb floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the wasteland across the road, then like a snail descended to the ground.
Morgan was feeling strangely nervous. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in mythology class. Her dignity was still whistling, but she got out of the SUV and climbed hopefully toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a massive creature emerged. It was silver-ish in color and looked like a cross between a peacock and a bag. It had six aqua eyes in its mouth. "Munosimoo flitojydyd ocojil, booramig my poofromo, mycukyt wetrod," the creature said.
"Can it," Morgan said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Fold wildflower pipe wrench bone electric paint mixer vegetate to circus tent," the thing shouted.
"Oof. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Bapujany chart broobybigyg."
"Why don't you take your chart and shove it in your piehole?" Morgan retorted.
The creature looked zany. "Bemowaba flegoogajob ogicyl, coovabel," it interrupted. "Diploorat!" it continued.
"Your face is a diploorat!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, pert creature; she was feeling unusually sarcastic. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or air traffic controller. If she had been carrying a soldering iron, 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 Gustafson will be delighted to see you."
The creature swung slightly and dreamed. Then it rose up on its rusty legs, puffed out its heart and galumphed reluctantly toward her.
For the first time, Morgan had the urge to run, but her belly was feeling numb and her legs refused to move.
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