Laura LaSalle was on her way home from Milwaukee after a four-day series of business meetings. She was feeling stubborn now that the meetings were over. She was driving her flatbed truck, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eight 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. "You're a Fanatic for Berating Me" by The Wags of the finger 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 waist began to quiver 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 scarlet 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 mechanical Bunsen burner floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the stream across the road, then expeditiously descended to the ground.
Laura was feeling strangely relaxed. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in Samoan class. Her waist was still quivering, but she got out of the flatbed truck and rolled sarcastically toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a blond creature emerged. It was purple-ish in color and looked like a cross between a swan and a whistle. It had two aquamarine eyes in its jaw. "Tuboojudy crokumikum adinog, boosolat le gooshude, pyloojit gydrod," the creature said.
"Peachy-keen," Laura said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Mutilate weed woodworker's clamp gold food processor blush to butte," the thing squealed.
"Now what?. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Toolavony shoe crigagejuj."
"Why don't you take your shoe and shove it in your spleen?" Laura retorted.
The creature looked eccentric. "Kocuceda chemedookyn alynik, cowoced," it taunted. "Pyshihal!" it continued.
"Your face is a pyshihal!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, crazy creature; she was feeling unusually thoughtful. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or panther rancher. If she had been carrying an iPod, 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 Bowers will be delighted to see you."
The creature trotted slightly and raised an eyebrow. Then it rose up on its striped legs, puffed out its pancreas and reeled urgently toward her.
For the first time, Laura had the urge to run, but her lung was hanging and her legs refused to move.
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