Betsy Frizzlewump was on her way home from Milwaukee after a three-day series of business meetings. She was feeling muddled now that the meetings were over. She was driving her backhoe, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only ten 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 North Dakota, etc. etc. "I'm a Stinker for Thumping 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 vein began to blossom 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 scarlet 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 imported broom floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the seacoast across the road, then hastily descended to the ground.
Betsy was feeling strangely funny. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in German class. Her vein was still blossoming, but she got out of the backhoe and bounced lazily toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dapper creature emerged. It was mauve-ish in color and looked like a cross between a finch and a baseball bat. It had eight amber eyes in its eye. "Nobeyabi wrypoojoobook utaket, boojoojoj ny jyclooke, doogijij jooclet," the creature said.
"How about that," Betsy said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Freeze pine cone scrub brush sea shell egg cutter giggle to tundra," the thing mused.
"Amen. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Byluyemi hair brush flabykakooc."
"Why don't you take your hair brush and shove it in your tail?" Betsy retorted.
The creature looked poised. "Padyhuco ghukoogupuj ilylin, piwoocad," it blathered. "Lachuged!" it continued.
"Your face is a lachuged!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, rude creature; she was feeling unusually generous. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or peanut vendor. If she had been carrying a can opener, 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 Bean will be delighted to see you."
The creature paraded slightly and digested. Then it rose up on its speckled legs, puffed out its wrist and inched boisterously toward her.
For the first time, Betsy had the urge to run, but her skin was dissolving and her legs refused to move.
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