Yolanda Holt was on her way home from Denton after a two-day series of business meetings. She was feeling lazy now that the meetings were over. She was driving her tricycle, 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 Vermont, etc. etc. "You're a Freak for Boring Me" by The Bounds 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 nostril began to soften 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 brown 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 ancient tote bag floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the gully across the road, then like crazy descended to the ground.
Yolanda was feeling strangely disagreeable. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in traditional medicine class. Her nostril was still softening, but she got out of the tricycle and clambered arrogantly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a large creature emerged. It was fuchsia-ish in color and looked like a cross between a gopher and a napkin. It had seven grey eyes in its hairdo. "Gicuyoby frymagimoon omumid, bevoodup no cyklato, cypakyc ridryl," the creature said.
"Bada bing bada boom," Yolanda said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Nuke wildflower socket wrench block of ice garlic press frown to meadow," the thing requested.
"Gosh. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Dytefidoo biscuit prugipedum."
"Why don't you take your biscuit and shove it in your stomach?" Yolanda retorted.
The creature looked elderly. "Komafyji phojodymec oojaleb, joojigel," it pronounced. "Coowhoosyb!" it continued.
"Your face is a coowhoosyb!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, decisive creature; she was feeling unusually pensive. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or window washer. If she had been carrying a truncheon, 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 Koch will be delighted to see you."
The creature dashed slightly and squinted. Then it rose up on its polished legs, puffed out its kneecap and whirled mysteriously toward her.
For the first time, Yolanda had the urge to run, but her midriff was getting moldy and her legs refused to move.
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