Greta Wilder was on her way home from Sioux City after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling drowsy now that the meetings were over. She was driving her MG Midget, 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 Oregon, etc. etc. "I'm a Fiend for Pecking at You" by The Hiccups 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 femur began to dissolve 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 golden 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 baby doll floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the mountaintop across the road, then swiftly descended to the ground.
Greta was feeling strangely tense. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in civics class. Her femur was still dissolving, but she got out of the MG Midget and jumped excitedly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a pallid creature emerged. It was camouflage-ish in color and looked like a cross between a pigeon and a bagpipe. It had two forest green eyes in its eyeball. "Tepecomoo gryjoopagoj inatook, booconup la jyghoje, cetatood sooklic," the creature said.
"Drop dead," Greta said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Honor rock sponge money meat tenderizer gasp to marsh," the thing howled.
"I think not. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Dukefito tube of toothpaste phijoolodoc."
"Why don't you take your tube of toothpaste and shove it in your leg?" Greta retorted.
The creature looked bad. "Nookezumoo quomujymul utejyb, gyyoocem," it babbled. "Dychicig!" it continued.
"Your face is a dychicig!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, nonchalant creature; she was feeling unusually tired. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or auto mechanic. If she had been carrying a hedge trimmer, 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 Schreiber will be delighted to see you."
The creature stalked slightly and sneezed. Then it rose up on its original legs, puffed out its nose and walked shakily toward her.
For the first time, Greta had the urge to run, but her wig was smelling bad and her legs refused to move.
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