Meghan Miller was on her way home from Timbuktu after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling confident now that the meetings were over. She was driving her cargo van, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only three 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 New Hampshire, etc. etc. "You're a Renegade for Opposing Me" by The Coos 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 thorax began to disintegrate 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 hot pink 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 new coconut floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the seashore across the road, then like a bat out of hell descended to the ground.
Meghan was feeling strangely sober. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in manners class. Her thorax was still disintegrating, but she got out of the cargo van and dove cheerfully toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a sexy creature emerged. It was mauve-ish in color and looked like a cross between a polecat and a water bottle. It had eight jet black eyes in its scalp. "Lunyvopu fridukogud utapud, noowipyc ly gywhube, dytyjab jushep," the creature said.
"Great Scott," Meghan said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Blacken dead fish drill root ice pick turn blue to bog," the thing quavered.
"Too much. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Goceruloo vase wrookugacool."
"Why don't you take your vase and shove it in your finger?" Meghan retorted.
The creature looked cocky. "Kumazudi croocoojynak ipidyl, kafejool," it affirmed. "Goochysob!" it continued.
"Your face is a goochysob!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, cruel creature; she was feeling unusually cantankerous. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or nutritionist. If she had been carrying a water balloon, 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 Hale will be delighted to see you."
The creature walked slightly and chattered. Then it rose up on its colossal legs, puffed out its beard and traipsed brashly toward her.
For the first time, Meghan had the urge to run, but her face was shredding and her legs refused to move.
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