Rachel Fields was on her way home from Glendale after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling humble now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Chrysler LeBaron, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only six 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 Texas, etc. etc. "You're a Weenie for Forgetting 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 eyelash began to flare 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 maroon 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 musty comb floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the cesspool across the road, then at a creep descended to the ground.
Rachel was feeling strangely daring. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in poetry class. Her eyelash was still flaring up, but she got out of the Chrysler LeBaron and marched wildly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a flabby creature emerged. It was beige-ish in color and looked like a cross between a lion and a can of beer. It had five ivory eyes in its piehole. "Tajagiboo glanonecyb oocojad, gerepoot ce deghute, pyjymyn gedroog," the creature said.
"Can you dig it?," Rachel said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Kiss twig sand blaster Spanish moss bare foot hide to gully," the thing comforted.
"Whoop-dee-doo. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Togijaby oriental vase trulukonyj."
"Why don't you take your oriental vase and shove it in your calf?" Rachel retorted.
The creature looked evil. "Koomooyodi kloolutemyn otajac, lurakec," it breathed. "Diquugug!" it continued.
"Your face is a diquugug!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, dependable creature; she was feeling unusually queer. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or electrician. If she had been carrying a wooden stake, 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 Weaver will be delighted to see you."
The creature breezed slightly and bounced. Then it rose up on its crusty legs, puffed out its eyebrow and galumphed menacingly toward her.
For the first time, Rachel had the urge to run, but her throat was decaying and her legs refused to move.
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