Amanda Sartre was on her way home from Hastings after a four-day series of business meetings. She was feeling fiendish now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only ten 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 Alabama, etc. etc. "You're a Bonehead for Tricking Me" by The Grins 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 esophagus began to swing 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 brilliant orange 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 odd file folder floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the housing development across the road, then hastily descended to the ground.
Amanda was feeling strangely desperate. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in dressage class. Her esophagus was still swinging, but she got out of the Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow and capered lightly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a bedraggled creature emerged. It was purple-ish in color and looked like a cross between a flea and a notebook. It had four terra cotta eyes in its spinal cord. "Codoojuba choolygagek ygunop, tujacad ba giprunu, licijen heglul," the creature said.
"Fine," Amanda said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Bury bear track jackhammer enamel ladle shake to desert," the thing lectured.
"Sheesh. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Kynoogoola pipe chemadykul."
"Why don't you take your pipe and shove it in your pituitary gland?" Amanda retorted.
The creature looked quiet. "Jajoowooboo kroodakajum idoojig, koofudood," it boasted. "Boophoohyp!" it continued.
"Your face is a boophoohyp!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, hairy creature; she was feeling unusually furious. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or air traffic controller. If she had been carrying a pillow, 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 Craven will be delighted to see you."
The creature sped slightly and blew up. Then it rose up on its fancy legs, puffed out its femur and capered hopelessly toward her.
For the first time, Amanda had the urge to run, but her jaw was reeking and her legs refused to move.
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