Abigail Frinklehofer was on her way home from Henderson after a three-day series of business meetings. She was feeling fearful now that the meetings were over. She was driving her Ram pickup, 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 Georgia, etc. etc. "You're a Nut for Losing Me" by The Hugs 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 arm began to feel numb 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 soft business card floating in the air. It hovered for a while over the park across the road, then idly descended to the ground.
Abigail was feeling strangely excitable. She briefly wished she had paid better attention in botany class. Her arm was still feeling numb, but she got out of the Ram pickup and ran unabashedly toward the object.
As she watched, an opening appeared in the side of the ship, and soon a massive creature emerged. It was tan-ish in color and looked like a cross between an eagle and a pair of knitting needles. It had seven silver eyes in its foot. "Tydyhone proodejenuc oopamyd, bozuceb le nysliny, decyjob joochyl," the creature said.
"Alrighty," Abigail said. "Care to repeat that in English?"
"Sharpen fish protractor linen ice pick daydream to park," the thing reacted.
"Humph. You can go back to your native language now. While you're at it, maybe you should go back to your native planet."
"Tecuyadu bag of potato chips quekemekut."
"Why don't you take your bag of potato chips and shove it in your tummy?" Abigail retorted.
The creature looked dependable. "Coocojidoo shobymetoob idemul, berojup," it scoffed. "Kyglooraj!" it continued.
"Your face is a kyglooraj!"
She didn't know why she was being so mouthy to the strange, brazen creature; she was feeling unusually resolute. She tended to deal with the unknown the way she would deal with an annoying salesman or parole officer. If she had been carrying an aspersion, 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 Schreiber will be delighted to see you."
The creature reeled slightly and squinted. Then it rose up on its heavy legs, puffed out its leg and sauntered peevishly toward her.
For the first time, Abigail had the urge to run, but her beard was stiffening and her legs refused to move.
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