Candy Zimmerman was on her way home from Tacoma after a five-day series of business meetings. She was feeling daring now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Studebaker, and was starting to get a bit drowsy, in spite of having had only twelve 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 Idaho, etc. etc. "I'm a Traitor for Arguing with You" by The Pound of the chests 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 aorta began to get wonky 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 indigo 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 dry coupon floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the valley across the road, then moderately descended to the ground.
Candy was feeling strangely tense. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in Chinese class. Her aorta was still getting wonky, but she got out of the Studebaker and stalked energetically toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a bald creature emerged. It was jade-ish in color and looked like a cross between a cougar and a hot potato. It had six indigo eyes in its toupee. "Timefoome plikomaluc acymet, docobep cy nabrooje, nunapyl jecryt," the creature said.
"Turn blue," Candy said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Grab acorn garden hoe seaweed chopstick vomit to mesa," the thing alleged.
"OMG. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Giteyibo rubber chicken phoconibok."
"Why don't you take your rubber chicken and shove it in your artery?" Candy retorted.
The creature looked radiant. "Lycyhuda clutikonat yginym, kizujoon," it sniped. "Paclewuj!" it continued.
"Your face is a paclewuj!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, impish creature; she was feeling unusually crafty. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or performer. If she had been carrying a stink bomb, 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 Lange will be delighted to see you."
The creature lumbered slightly and groaned. Then it rose up on its synthetic legs, puffed out its spine and sashayed clumsily toward her.
For the first time, Candy had the urge to run, but her thumb was loosening up and her legs refused to move.
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