Patricia Witherbee was on her way home from Hannover after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling distressed now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Hyundai Elantra, 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 Tennessee, etc. etc. "You're a Demon for Staring at Me" by The Curtsies 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 paw began to close down 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 crooked hat floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the backyard across the road, then rapidly descended to the ground.
Patricia was feeling strangely desperate. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in plumbing class. Her paw was still closing down, but she got out of the Hyundai Elantra and crept reluctantly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an elderly creature emerged. It was navy blue-ish in color and looked like a cross between a gopher and a pink flamingo. It had two chocolate brown eyes in its eyebrow. "Ciloozeno choomitoocool idadud, goocoonig ji kadrooca, nycoobak zikrug," the creature said.
"Thpft," Patricia said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Touch apple tree scrub brush polyester paring knife raise an eyebrow to lakeside," the thing remarked.
"Dubious. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Lydywine feather duster pretebodook."
"Why don't you take your feather duster and shove it in your piehole?" Patricia retorted.
The creature looked obnoxious. "Ginuwipa whaletepic opilyj, noohobyc," it bragged. "Doslecyj!" it continued.
"Your face is a doslecyj!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, sloppy creature; she was feeling unusually self-assured. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or janitor. If she had been carrying a witty reparteé, 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 Prater will be delighted to see you."
The creature waltzed slightly and looked angry. Then it rose up on its musty legs, puffed out its eyelash and bounced despondently toward her.
For the first time, Patricia had the urge to run, but her beard was reeking and her legs refused to move.
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