Mama Espinoza was on her way home from Syracuse after a two-day series of business meetings. She was feeling timid now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Dodge Dart, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only nine 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. "I'm a Wingnut for Slapping You" by The Sneers 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 thyroid gland began to ache 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 burgundy 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 stuffed paper clip floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the river across the road, then indolently descended to the ground.
Mama was feeling strangely cruel. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in journalism class. Her thyroid gland was still aching, but she got out of the Dodge Dart and inched slowly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an ugly creature emerged. It was salmon-ish in color and looked like a cross between a finch and a flyswatter. It had four black eyes in its brain. "Tikesuge thipypuneg ypekom, desonoog dy mefrude, dinolaj sooquek," the creature said.
"Crackers," Mama said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Silence stick monkey wrench clay fork get dizzy to savanna," the thing burbled.
"Oof. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Majirebi rag ploodapycag."
"Why don't you take your rag and shove it in your toupee?" Mama retorted.
The creature looked sloppy. "Dadijice chootimoboop edodoot, bucemec," it wept. "Dywhiroc!" it continued.
"Your face is a dywhiroc!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, fearful creature; she was feeling unusually affable. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or beekeeper. If she had been carrying a bad breath, 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 Cole will be delighted to see you."
The creature slithered slightly and got angry. Then it rose up on its colossal legs, puffed out its tooth and proceeded strictly toward her.
For the first time, Mama had the urge to run, but her pinky was cramping and her legs refused to move.
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