Mary Lou Carver was on her way home from Karachi after a three-day series of business meetings. She was feeling funny now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Lincoln Town Car, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only four 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 Wyoming, etc. etc. "You're a Thug for Praying for Me" by The Wrinkled noses 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 spleen began to torment 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 emerald 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 big crystal ball floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the desert across the road, then lethargically descended to the ground.
Mary Lou was feeling strangely peckish. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in philosophy class. Her spleen was still tormenting, but she got out of the Lincoln Town Car and crawled fearlessly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a winsome creature emerged. It was blue-ish in color and looked like a cross between a tarantula and a hip flask. It had five grey eyes in its knuckle. "Cydijegi clyjejedak ejydod, curokug na jiclokoo, lamugij cacryk," the creature said.
"Far out," Mary Lou said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Control weed piece of sandpaper nylon basting brush shake to gulch," the thing protested.
"Uh-oh. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Pyjycypy pair of scissors whidoolojik."
"Why don't you take your pair of scissors and shove it in your hangnail?" Mary Lou retorted.
The creature looked lethargic. "Mynewoogo thikopogeg alalej, lyyyjuc," it yowled. "Bukrosyg!" it continued.
"Your face is a bukrosyg!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, artistic creature; she was feeling unusually disagreeable. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or embalmer. If she had been carrying a wooden stake, 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 Romer will be delighted to see you."
The creature waded slightly and jumped. Then it rose up on its mechanical legs, puffed out its jaw and waded nicely toward her.
For the first time, Mary Lou had the urge to run, but her femur was rolling and her legs refused to move.
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