Clara Ratha was on her way home from Hastings after a three-day series of business meetings. She was feeling self-assured now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Gremlin, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only eight 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 Rhode Island, etc. etc. "You're a Dingleberry for Biting Me" by The Furrowed brows 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 collarbone began to bunch up 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 rough tissue floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the arroyo across the road, then quietly descended to the ground.
Clara was feeling strangely angry. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in hotel management class. Her collarbone was still bunching up, but she got out of the Gremlin and padded pitifully toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dashing creature emerged. It was yellow-ish in color and looked like a cross between a cockatiel and a fork. It had three golden eyes in its stomach. "Teposepe kladoocotak ypigip, bivecel jo dyploona, bicypil gaklot," the creature said.
"Bada bing bada boom," Clara said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Taste feather sickle manure pastry blender gaze to neighborhood," the thing exploded.
"Outstanding. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kidysodo accordion klemobetic."
"Why don't you take your accordion and shove it in your skin?" Clara retorted.
The creature looked sloppy. "Nomahabo krolulupub ecoolit, kycydud," it chanted. "Gyphoyeg!" it continued.
"Your face is a gyphoyeg!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, lively creature; she was feeling unusually self-assured. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or stagehand. If she had been carrying a revolver, 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 James will be delighted to see you."
The creature loped slightly and whirled. Then it rose up on its shiny legs, puffed out its stomach and blundered proudly toward her.
For the first time, Clara had the urge to run, but her carotid artery was hissing and her legs refused to move.
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