Priscilla Lawler was on her way home from Hollywood after a two-day series of business meetings. She was feeling exuberant now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Ford Flex, 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 Kentucky, etc. etc. "You're a Stalker for Pecking at Me" by The Blushes 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 toupee began to enlarge 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 hot pink 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 torn gun floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the mesa across the road, then quietly descended to the ground.
Priscilla was feeling strangely sarcastic. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in interior design class. Her toupee was still enlarging, but she got out of the Ford Flex and swung suspiciously toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a tan creature emerged. It was azure-ish in color and looked like a cross between a dormouse and a napkin. It had two jet black eyes in its dignity. "Caboosino phepimebooc ydemog, kufynog bu totricoo, ducimuk fyglob," the creature said.
"Stinkers," Priscilla said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Scrape wolf track paintbrush plaster cookie cutter grimace to circus tent," the thing jeered.
"Humph. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Cytahalo pepper grinder trujodebec."
"Why don't you take your pepper grinder and shove it in your leg?" Priscilla retorted.
The creature looked proud. "Cicicootoo shogicedool uletun, looyojec," it crooned. "Kikrocyn!" it continued.
"Your face is a kikrocyn!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, radiant creature; she was feeling unusually peckish. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or bellhop. If she had been carrying a bayonette, 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 Owen will be delighted to see you."
The creature ran slightly and rocked. Then it rose up on its stiff legs, puffed out its waist and padded carefully toward her.
For the first time, Priscilla had the urge to run, but her esophagus was stiffening and her legs refused to move.
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