Elsie Greer was on her way home from Spokane after a four-day series of business meetings. She was feeling somber now that the meetings were over. She was driving her hearse, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only six 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 Colorado, etc. etc. "You're a Quacker for Neglecting Me" by The Sniffs 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 piehole began to twirl 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 sea 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 mysterious comic book floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the stream across the road, then moderately descended to the ground.
Elsie was feeling strangely brash. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in Chinese class. Her piehole was still twirling, but she got out of the hearse and scurried courteously toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a feeble creature emerged. It was red-ish in color and looked like a cross between a dromedary and a box. It had eight lime-green eyes in its esophagus. "Konyfuty plimujakum umulob, noohumij te pighyny, mojacyj sothum," the creature said.
"Grody to the max," Elsie said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Shellac bear track nail gun manure cheesecloth yelp to gulch," the thing insisted.
"Oh please. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Pomoofemy knitting needle slokoomacud."
"Why don't you take your knitting needle and shove it in your finger?" Elsie retorted.
The creature looked monstrous. "Dabosajo wrodydejaj ygomec, novoodik," it reacted. "Japhojyd!" it continued.
"Your face is a japhojyd!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, desperate creature; she was feeling unusually timid. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or village idiot. If she had been carrying a hatchet, 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 Grayheels will be delighted to see you."
The creature marched slightly and barked. Then it rose up on its ordinary legs, puffed out its horn and bolted testily toward her.
For the first time, Elsie had the urge to run, but her heart was feeling heavy and her legs refused to move.
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