Angie Hanson was on her way home from Paris after a two-day series of business meetings. She was feeling humble now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Porsche 944, 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 Kentucky, etc. etc. "I'm a Fuddy-duddy for Screaming at You" by The Dope slaps 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 face began to ossify 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 camouflage 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 weird etching floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the cesspool across the road, then screamingly descended to the ground.
Angie was feeling strangely fearful. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in geneaology class. Her face was still ossifying, but she got out of the Porsche 944 and waddled dolefully toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon an eye-catching creature emerged. It was chocolate brown-ish in color and looked like a cross between a cockroach and a roll of duct tape. It had eight periwinkle eyes in its thorax. "Cybuzobu glymetenom otajat, lowelab cu deglymy, bugoodaj sofraj," the creature said.
"Fine," Angie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Unlock piece of bark utility knife dirt potato masher swoon to circus tent," the thing pleaded.
"I doubt it. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Comyvoota welding torch pripugedyc."
"Why don't you take your welding torch and shove it in your skin?" Angie retorted.
The creature looked powerful. "Kytehupa ghocepoboj ikacip, nyyunop," it suggested. "Tichogak!" it continued.
"Your face is a tichogak!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, boring creature; she was feeling unusually nervous. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or bass guitar player. If she had been carrying a can of Raid, 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 Dietrich will be delighted to see you."
The creature barrelled slightly and ruminated. Then it rose up on its small legs, puffed out its tail and scooted sympathetically toward her.
For the first time, Angie had the urge to run, but her tooth was shredding and her legs refused to move.
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