Cheryl Abbey was on her way home from Tulsa after a three-day series of business meetings. She was feeling dapper now that the meetings were over. She was driving her delivery truck, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only three 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 Iowa, etc. etc. "You're a Weevil for Poking Me" by The Shrugs 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 pituitary gland began to curve 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 khaki 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 delicate Frisbee floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the outback across the road, then idly descended to the ground.
Cheryl was feeling strangely shy. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in musicianship class. Her pituitary gland was still curving, but she got out of the delivery truck and waded sheepishly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a massive creature emerged. It was white-ish in color and looked like a cross between a poodle and a flash drive. It had three red eyes in its hoof. "Gunoozede whelijoopoot oobydob, lesejup co nookrime, dimoojig jeshok," the creature said.
"Oh my word," Cheryl said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Jab stick shovel rammed earth spoon burp to country meadow," the thing cackled.
"Abracadabra. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Lacozula dish trytanatol."
"Why don't you take your dish and shove it in your Achilles tendon?" Cheryl retorted.
The creature looked sweet. "Majeroona protitatyn ugybec, tavijeb," it drawled. "Joglejoon!" it continued.
"Your face is a joglejoon!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, careful creature; she was feeling unusually proud. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or pediatrician. If she had been carrying an insect repellant, 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 Prince will be delighted to see you."
The creature galloped slightly and snickered. Then it rose up on its hand-made legs, puffed out its spleen and slumped sweetly toward her.
For the first time, Cheryl had the urge to run, but her shoulder was hissing and her legs refused to move.
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