Pallavi Spooner was on her way home from Vienna after a two-day series of business meetings. She was feeling proud now that the meetings were over. She was driving her bicycle, 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 Connecticut, etc. etc. "I'm a Cheater for Kicking You" by The Smacks 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 eye began to heat up 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 violet 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 gross muffin floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the park across the road, then apathetically descended to the ground.
Pallavi was feeling strangely angry. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in nutrition class. Her eye was still heating up, but she got out of the bicycle and barrelled stealthily toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a dark creature emerged. It was aqua-ish in color and looked like a cross between a bison and a toolbox. It had four khaki eyes in its horn. "Kiterooty krybaletop adudooc, gyfebig di tekluca, gunylec faplob," the creature said.
"Incredible," Pallavi said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Flush dead fish bolt cutter corncob electric paint mixer clap to cornfield," the thing scoffed.
"Omigosh. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Boobujiku fish frekudacug."
"Why don't you take your fish and shove it in your finger?" Pallavi retorted.
The creature looked elderly. "Jonyhegi proobijitut ilobet, cirejet," it debated. "Moobryyaj!" it continued.
"Your face is a moobryyaj!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, weary creature; she was feeling unusually affable. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or nuclear physicist. If she had been carrying a poison dart, 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 Jankowski will be delighted to see you."
The creature climbed slightly and screamed. Then it rose up on its gleaming legs, puffed out its pride and slipped crankily toward her.
For the first time, Pallavi had the urge to run, but her hair was ossifying and her legs refused to move.
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