Brooke Wallace was on her way home from Cleveland after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling resolute now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Chevrolet Impala, 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 Pennsylvania, etc. etc. "You're a Vixen for Believing in Me" by The Sneezes 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 carotid artery began to heat up 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 rare rubber chicken floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the moonscape across the road, then smoothly descended to the ground.
Brooke was feeling strangely thoughtful. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in carpentry class. Her carotid artery was still heating up, but she got out of the Chevrolet Impala and bounded suspiciously toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a bearded creature emerged. It was lime-green-ish in color and looked like a cross between an orangutan and a flash drive. It had five mauve eyes in its waist. "Dojizooci crijymetek omenuk, lesunam ny gicryga, lygicooc hiplyl," the creature said.
"Exaltations," Brooke said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Pull leaf hammer wool fork curtsey to pasture," the thing wailed.
"Never mind. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Noogoocogu clam krumibytup."
"Why don't you take your clam and shove it in your bladder?" Brooke retorted.
The creature looked enraged. "Paduvoony brejecydyc akylag, cifykup," it joked. "Pyclucub!" it continued.
"Your face is a pyclucub!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, gargantuan creature; she was feeling unusually peckish. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or government agent. If she had been carrying a fishing pole, 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 Madison will be delighted to see you."
The creature breezed slightly and watched. Then it rose up on its new legs, puffed out its kneecap and stormed oddly toward her.
For the first time, Brooke had the urge to run, but her belly was itching and her legs refused to move.
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