Petunia Coleman was on her way home from Saõ Paulo after a four-day series of business meetings. She was feeling sarcastic 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 five 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. "You're a Nitwit for Frowning at Me" by The Titters 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 big toe began to get hairy 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 camouflage 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 valuable paper airplane floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the country meadow across the road, then actively descended to the ground.
Petunia was feeling strangely disagreeable. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in dance class. Her big toe was still getting hairy, but she got out of the hearse and went furiously toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a bald creature emerged. It was rose-ish in color and looked like a cross between a lark and a fountain pen. It had two violet eyes in its eyebrow. "Lilojoomo frajilegoob ootated, tygogec mu netroga, kunopool cykrol," the creature said.
"Ka-ching," Petunia said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Demolish spring monkey wrench moss dish cloth cough to circus tent," the thing mumbled.
"Behold. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Mipowobu curling iron fryluloonub."
"Why don't you take your curling iron and shove it in your tummy?" Petunia retorted.
The creature looked gentle. "Pykusocy clacugemob oojijul, jizokim," it peeped. "Doslajyb!" it continued.
"Your face is a doslajyb!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, bubbly creature; she was feeling unusually petulant. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or factory worker. If she had been carrying a lead pipe, 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 Flanagan will be delighted to see you."
The creature lurched slightly and wandered. Then it rose up on its well worn legs, puffed out its little finger and trekked sagely toward her.
For the first time, Petunia had the urge to run, but her spine was exploding and her legs refused to move.
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