Clio Russell was on her way home from Myrtle Beach after a two-day series of business meetings. She was feeling peckish now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Cadillac Escalade, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven 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 Devil for Slapping You" by The Simpers 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 back began to quake 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 sleek rose floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the badlands area across the road, then at a creep descended to the ground.
Clio was feeling strangely shy. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in home economics class. Her back was still quaking, but she got out of the Cadillac Escalade and slipped sadly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an unkempt creature emerged. It was mauve-ish in color and looked like a cross between a butterfly and a billiard ball. It had three salmon eyes in its pancreas. "Joomajati klotoodamot alapug, jyzapoc me tycrija, poojyloc wawret," the creature said.
"Encore," Clio said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Slash apple tree pair of scissors rope ice pick doodle to neighborhood," the thing avowed.
"Cowabunga. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Dookageca key bratulegup."
"Why don't you take your key and shove it in your toenail?" Clio retorted.
The creature looked portly. "Poodogyji cholipoomim imegig, dehookot," it snorted. "Dachoogol!" it continued.
"Your face is a dachoogol!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, urbane creature; she was feeling unusually frantic. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or dancer. If she had been carrying a scalpel, 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 Al-Ghareeb will be delighted to see you."
The creature sprinted slightly and sighed. Then it rose up on its clean legs, puffed out its tooth and strolled dreamily toward her.
For the first time, Clio had the urge to run, but her knuckle was crawling and her legs refused to move.
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