Annabelle Morales was on her way home from Glendale after a four-day series of business meetings. She was feeling cantankerous now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Thunderbird, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only seven 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 Mississippi, etc. etc. "You're a Dorf for Blocking Me" by The Jeers 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 collarbone began to rise 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 aromatic can of shaving cream floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the dump across the road, then like a streak descended to the ground.
Annabelle was feeling strangely sarcastic. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in communication class. Her collarbone was still rising, but she got out of the Thunderbird and skittered carelessly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a fair creature emerged. It was fuchsia-ish in color and looked like a cross between a kitten and a pillow. It had five pea green eyes in its scalp. "Ketyvoogu clegonynej inokud, dojimat boo todroogoo, gygugig geflim," the creature said.
"Ha," Annabelle said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Shoot piece of driftwood hammer pipe basting brush leer to tundra," the thing prattled.
"Alrighty-roo. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Cebyzoomu painting wroonametip."
"Why don't you take your painting and shove it in your esophagus?" Annabelle retorted.
The creature looked cruel. "Pycugiku phoocidootap ygoomool, bugoojool," it agreed. "Gooklizal!" it continued.
"Your face is a gooklizal!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, pesky creature; she was feeling unusually cruel. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or filmmaker. If she had been carrying a spit wad, 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 Kringle will be delighted to see you."
The creature waddled slightly and threw up. Then it rose up on its waxy legs, puffed out its wig and tramped frantically toward her.
For the first time, Annabelle had the urge to run, but her pride was opening up and her legs refused to move.
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