Olive Sewell was on her way home from Fort Worth after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling merry now that the meetings were over. She was driving her UFO, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only six 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 Florida, etc. etc. "I'm a Vixen for Tripping You" by The Air kisses 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 eyebrow began to undulate 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 khaki 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 well worn crayon floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the prairie across the road, then briskly descended to the ground.
Olive was feeling strangely somber. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in oceanography class. Her eyebrow was still undulating, but she got out of the UFO and rushed sorrowfully toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a fair creature emerged. It was green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a beaver and a chess set. It had four azure eyes in its gall bladder. "Cagusike krabagoden oogigal, ciyookeb mu jyprijo, lycoobal rooplid," the creature said.
"Golly," Olive said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Scuff feather dust cloth peat moss corkscrew get along to lagoon," the thing squawked.
"The joke's on me. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Diloowyma baseball wrotenylud."
"Why don't you take your baseball and shove it in your ear?" Olive retorted.
The creature looked statuesque. "Bocyjaco chinoomijyd inenym, cycygel," it winked. "Jaquoorel!" it continued.
"Your face is a jaquoorel!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, stylish creature; she was feeling unusually lazy. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or woodcarver. If she had been carrying a hockey puck, 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 Steele will be delighted to see you."
The creature reeled slightly and ruminated. Then it rose up on its luxurious legs, puffed out its skin and tramped fiercely toward her.
For the first time, Olive had the urge to run, but her kidney was lightening up and her legs refused to move.
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