Nan Bartholomew was on her way home from Timbuktu after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling suave now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Hum-Vee, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only five 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 Nevada, etc. etc. "I'm a Knucklehead for Spitting at You" by The Gurgles 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 dignity began to roast 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 crimson 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 wet blanket floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the cliff across the road, then hurriedly descended to the ground.
Nan was feeling strangely excitable. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in mythology class. Her dignity was still roasting, but she got out of the Hum-Vee and straggled nicely toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a flabby creature emerged. It was amber-ish in color and looked like a cross between an elk and a stuffed owl. It had eight terra cotta eyes in its hairdo. "Gecyzodi whumoonacoob aboomyn, kyyylic ta cadryly, kocomood joochac," the creature said.
"Hey," Nan said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Poke pine cone love meter spandex pair of chopsticks mutter to buffalo wallow," the thing pronounced.
"Please. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Gicyremy bag of groceries chytanogyg."
"Why don't you take your bag of groceries and shove it in your scalp?" Nan retorted.
The creature looked cantankerous. "Mokeguja whootemamoon opitym, liyebut," it urged. "Negrocub!" it continued.
"Your face is a negrocub!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, passionate creature; she was feeling unusually cuddly. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or neurologist. If she had been carrying a quick retort, 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 Werner will be delighted to see you."
The creature swaggered slightly and slept. Then it rose up on its stuffed legs, puffed out its head and capered sweetly toward her.
For the first time, Nan had the urge to run, but her rib was twisting and her legs refused to move.
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