Camille Hayward was on her way home from Baghdad after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling brave now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Ford pickup, 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 Minnesota, etc. etc. "You're a Snitch for Dismaying Me" by The Sniggers 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 toe began to pulsate 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 chocolate brown 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 nice bucket floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the lagoon across the road, then eagerly descended to the ground.
Camille was feeling strangely resolute. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in social studies class. Her toe was still pulsating, but she got out of the Ford pickup and blundered queerly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a demonic creature emerged. It was purple-ish in color and looked like a cross between an antelope and a watering can. It had eight ivory eyes in its buttocks. "Myjagemu chagokajem ejenod, bayocid jo lochyma, bikitan fyglot," the creature said.
"Eek," Camille said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Rearrange piece of driftwood torque wrench Spanish moss blender wail to veld," the thing screeched.
"Shoo. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Tubujojoo clarinet wrakogogim."
"Why don't you take your clarinet and shove it in your throat?" Camille retorted.
The creature looked hirsute. "Galoocuboo gritenybup omutyd, bufoobim," it persisted. "Cashujyp!" it continued.
"Your face is a cashujyp!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, amiable creature; she was feeling unusually forgetful. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or food critic. If she had been carrying a bucket of water, 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 Craft will be delighted to see you."
The creature made a beeline slightly and got frazzled. Then it rose up on its hand-painted legs, puffed out its thumb and skittered awkwardly toward her.
For the first time, Camille had the urge to run, but her tail was going to pieces and her legs refused to move.
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