Azalea Shapiro was on her way home from Carlsbad after a three-day series of business meetings. She was feeling muddled now that the meetings were over. She was driving her cab, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only twelve 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 Vermont, etc. etc. "I'm a Stumblebum for Shaking You" by The Giggles 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 heel began to rattle 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 chartreuse 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 gooey clarinet floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the park across the road, then like mad descended to the ground.
Azalea was feeling strangely irate. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in law enforcement class. Her heel was still rattling, but she got out of the cab and trekked trustingly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a good looking creature emerged. It was fuchsia-ish in color and looked like a cross between a wolf and an artificial flower. It had five burgundy eyes in its esophagus. "Cynazide flotonulob omujyp, kooyemim mo nyfrona, minamid reslip," the creature said.
"Malarkey," Azalea said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Brandish tree soldering iron toothpick slotted spoon sigh to wasteland," the thing insisted.
"Out of this world. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Mooperagy paperclip quylubupik."
"Why don't you take your paperclip and shove it in your kidney?" Azalea retorted.
The creature looked puzzled. "Notoyadoo whiganagut ibymoot, cozetyj," it drawled. "Biquoojok!" it continued.
"Your face is a biquoojok!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, jaunty creature; she was feeling unusually exuberant. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or machinist. 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 Sugarbaker will be delighted to see you."
The creature skidded slightly and hiccuped. Then it rose up on its hand-carved legs, puffed out its funny bone and rolled merrily toward her.
For the first time, Azalea had the urge to run, but her liver was putrifying and her legs refused to move.
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