Mama Mel of Blackwater, Louisiana

Name: Mama Mel
Age: 65 earth years; 506 Stullvanian years
Earthly occupation: Owner of Mama Mel's bar and grill in Blackwater, Louisiana where the weather is hot and the food is hotter. (But the black rum drinks are cold.)
Stullvania occupation: Healer to the outlaw ancients, which was illegal on the planet Stull. That was why she was exiled to earth 60 years ago and stole the body of a pretty 40 year old bartender. She aged well in her new body.

" What da' ya want now, bailiff. You don't fool me for a moment sittin' thar in those human things. Come to check on the place?" Mel slid into the booth across from the slit- eyed constable from Stull, touching his scaled hand briefly. "You are too obvious here. Look like a damn 'gator," she snarled quietly. "Kinda stick out, don't cha?"

"Madam," the constable hissed, "intelligence reported that you have illicitly plied your trade on these poor wretched creatures. Have you not healed some of these, uh, bipeds? " Its tongue flicked out to taste the air and withdrew quickly, causing a crease to appear in its scaly head. It's protrusion of a snout flared and then closed.

"Don't smell too good, eh?" Mama drawled as she lazily pushed an ice-cold black rum toward him. "Want to try this, you might enjoy the taste after your long, long travels." She smiled and leaned back against the wooden bench. "So what if I share a little kindness to these purr creatures. Theys don't live long nohow. Fragile they is." A soft laugh rumbled from her chest.

"Ah, spirit-woman, you jest." The bailiff lifted the foreign object a few inches from the table and its narrow tongue splashed into the thick, dark liquid. "This is illegal, you know." Its eyes narrowed to a squint and continued to lap the dark rum into its mouth. The creamy liquid spilled from the glass onto the table top and it licked delicately at the wayward fluid.

"Another?" she asked softly. A new drink appear in front of the creature and again it dipped its snout into the fluid. Another tumbler appeared, then another. The glass seemed to refill itself, almost like magic. Mama watched the bailiff until at last its scaly head dropped onto the table.

Mama rose slowly from the booth and sighed loudly, shaking her head. “Bus boy,” she yelled, “come clean up this trash.” Then, she walked away.