Eileen Briggs was on her way home from Nairobi after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling sassy now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Buick Riviera, 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 Arkansas, etc. etc. "You're a Pervert for Training Me" 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 beard began to curve 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 lime-green 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 greasy cigarette floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the path across the road, then reluctantly descended to the ground.
Eileen was feeling strangely confident. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in constitutional law class. Her beard was still curving, but she got out of the Buick Riviera and tumbled trustingly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a demonic creature emerged. It was green-ish in color and looked like a cross between a pheasant and a primrose. It had seven green eyes in its rib. "Tootoowiny droodoopakuc ooboopug, dyjipet doo gudroola, dejojap gaplyd," the creature said.
"Neato," Eileen said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Close fallen tree blow torch cards pair of chopsticks lie down to bog," the thing raved.
"Poof. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kimoosugoo cardboard box froopejypuj."
"Why don't you take your cardboard box and shove it in your pancreas?" Eileen retorted.
The creature looked nonchalant. "Nitoofoomo ghyboocooden epocid, behejud," it hinted. "Petrejuc!" it continued.
"Your face is a petrejuc!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, petulant creature; she was feeling unusually hysterical. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or undercover agent. If she had been carrying a switchblade, 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 Palmer will be delighted to see you."
The creature bounded slightly and trembled. Then it rose up on its polka-dotted legs, puffed out its neck and scooted nimbly toward her.
For the first time, Eileen had the urge to run, but her waist was rotting and her legs refused to move.
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