英文片名:MenInBlack

英文片名: men in black

中文片名: 黑超特警组 mib星际战警

上映: 1997

men in black -- movie script

** disclaimer & credits **

this script was transcribed by paul rudoff

script copyright © 1997 columbia pictures industries, inc.

all rights reserved.

men in black

by

ed solomon

ext. road -- texas/mexico border -- night

a million stars wink in the night desert sky. down here on earth, an

insect, one of those big, beautiful, multicolored four-winged jobs, glides

effortlessly on the breeze, wafting along through the crisp texas air.

the insect dips, it banks, it does loop-the-loops -- and then splats

unceremoniously against the windshield of a white van that's tearing down

the road.

int. van -- texas/mexico border -- night

the driver of the van, a fifty-year-old american, turns on the wipers,

smearing the remains all over.

driver

goddamn bugs.

he squirts some wiper fluid onto the glass, which clears it up a bit, but

now he sees something worse up ahead. it's a grouping of headlights, eight

of them, all pointed at him, sealing off the road.

he bites his lip and calls over his shoulder, to the back of the van. he

speaks in spanish, which is subtitled.

driver (cont'd)

deja me hablar.

(let me do the talking.)

ext. road -- texas/mexico border -- night

the van slows to a stop in front of the parked cars, all government-issue

four doors with 'ins' stenciled on the sides. seven or eight ins agents

stand in front of the cars imposingly. their apparent leader steps forward

and comes to the window.

the driver rolls it down. agent janus, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, also

government issue, looks at him and sighs.

agent janus

well. nick the dick. what a surprise. where

you comin' from?

driver

i was fishing in cuernavaca.

agent janus

sure you were. what do you say we have a

look at your catch?

at the back of the van,

the agents fling open the rear doors, revealing a dozen frightened

mexicans, hopeful immigrants without official permission. agent janus

looks at the driver, who's now held by two other agents, and shakes his

head.

agent janus

me, i woulda thrown 'em back.

(to the passengers, in spanish)

vamanos. fuera. hagan una lina!

(let's go. out. form a line!)

they pile out of the van. some are parents with small children.

agent janus (cont'd)

what do you get, nick? hundred bucks a

head? two hundred? i hope you saved it all

for your lawyer, pal, 'cause you're gonna

need --

he stops in the middle of his sentence, as another car is approaching,

fast, its engine whining as it barrels down the road toward them. several

agents pull their weapons.

the new car pulls a hard right, goes off the road, spins around the ins

cars, and squeals to a sideways halt, silhouetted in front of their

headlights. it's a boxy, black 1986 ford ltd.

two men get out, dressed in plain black suits, crisp white shirts, simple

black ties, shiny black shoes. kay, fiftyish, is the apotheosis of

world-weary; his partner, dee, mid-sixties, is just weary. they approach

the ins agents.

kay

we'll take it from here.

agent janus

who the hell are you?

kay and dee flash some form of id.

kay

ins division 6.

agent janus

division 6? i never heard of division 6.

kay

really?

kay and dee move past him and approach the row of nervous immigrants.

kay (cont'd)

what're we thinking, dee?

dee

tough call, kay.

he walks down the row, studying the faces, greeting each one cheerily in

spanish.

kay

!oye! que pasa, coma estas? hey!

(what's up, how are you?)

no se preocupe, abuela. bienvenida a los

estados unidos.

(don't worry grandma.

welcome to the united

states.)

(next)

a donde vas? san antonio? buscando trabajo,

no? buena suerta.

(where are you going? san

antonio? looking for

work, aren't you? good

luck.)

(next)

es un placer verle aqui.

(it's a pleasure seeing

you here.)

one by one, their faces relax, reassured by kay's calm demeanor. when he

reaches the fifth guy, he keeps the same cheery tone, but:

kay (cont'd)

que dices si te rompo la cara?

(what do you say if i

break your face?)

the guy smiles and nods. kay stops. his own smile broadens and he drops a

hand on the guy's shoulder.

kay (cont'd)

no hablas ni una palabra del espanol,

verdad, amigo?

(you don't speak a word

of spanish, right, friend?)

again, the guy smiles and nods. kay looks back at dee.

kay (cont'd)

we got a winner.

(to the others)

los restos estan libres a irse. largense!

(the rest of you are free

to go. scram!)

agent janus

sir!

kay

tomen el camion, y vayeuse.

(get on the road and go.)

agent janus

sir, you can't just --

kay

don't 'sir' me! you have no idea who you're

dealing with!

silence on the road. the driver grins, jumps back in the front seat of the

van. the others pile into the rear and they tear out of there.

kay (cont'd)

(to janus)

we're gonna have a little chat with our

friend here. you boys can hit the road ...

and keep on protecting us from dangerous

aliens.

kay and dee escort their captive across the road and over a small rise,

leaving the stunned ins agents standing alone in the roadway.

agent janus

you ever heard of division 6?

2nd ins agent

there is no division 6.

3rd ins agent

who are those guys?

ext. desert clearing - night

kay and dee lead their captive into a clearing in the desert brush. dee

pulls an enormous handgun from a shoulder holster and stays a pace or two

off, covering him. kay has an arm draped around the man's shoulders.

kay

i think you jumped off the bus in the wrong

part of town, amigo. in fact, i'll bet

dollars to pesos that you're not --

he pulls out a small laser device, which he zips neatly down the front of

the man's clothes.

kay (cont'd)

-- from anywhere near here.

the man's clothes fall to the ground, revealing what he really is

underneath -- a scaly space bastard, about four-and-a-half feet tall, with

a snouth, snail-like tentacles, and independently moving eyes on stalks at

the top of his head.

the only part of his camouflage not crumpled to the ground is the

humanesque 'head,' which he still lamely holds in one of his hands. it's

propped up by a stick, like a puppet, and it continues to make expressions

as he holds it.

kay (cont'd)

mikey?! when did they let you out of jail?

mikey replies -- an unfathomable combination of grunts, squeaks, and

saliva.

kay (cont'd)

political refugee. right.

dee

you know how many treaty articles you've

just violated?

mikey makes a lame squeak.

kay

one, my ass. try seven.

dee

from unauthorized immigration to failure to

properly inoculate prior to landing.

kay

(off mikey's objections)

okay, that's enough. hand me your head and

put up your arms.

from behind mikey, they hear a terrified gasp.

kay and dee both look over quickly. one of the alien's eyes, on a tall

stalk, whips around too. all three of them see agent janus, standing just

over the rise, staring in frozen amazement.

kay (cont'd)

ah, shit.

agent janus screams. mikey rips free of the rest of the 'mexican'

disguise, knocks dee out of the way, and takes off straight at janus,

screeching a horrible space bastard screech. janus freezes, terrified.

kay (cont'd)

dee! shoot him!

dee struggles to roll over and change the controls on his gun, which fell

out of his hand as he hit the ground.

kay (cont'd)

dee, for christ's --

mikey keeps moving, covering the last few yards to janus quickly. he steps

on a rock, launches himself into the air, his dripping jaws cranked wide

open --

-- there is a sizzling sound, a brilliant white flash --

-- and mikey erupts in a geyser of blue goo that splatters all over the

ground, the trees, and agent janus' face. behind where mikey was, kay

stands, smoking weapon in hand.

ext. road -- texas/mexico border -- night

on the road, the ins agents pull their guns and run toward the rise.

ext. desert clearing -- night

kay has an arm around janus, whom he is leading further into the clearing.

janus is white, shaking, eyes like silver dollars.

agent janus

th -- th -- th --

kay

(helping)

'that.'

agent janus

that wasn't -- wasn't -- wasn't --

kay

human, i know. oops. got some entrails on

you.

he takes out a handkerchief and wipes off the agent's face. as he does,

janus looks back to where mikey blew up. then at kay. and then up at the

stars.

the other ins agents burst over the rise, shouting questions.

kay

okay, everybody, situation's under control,

calm down. if you'll just give me your

attention for a moment i'll tell you what

happened.

from over the rise, car engines whine in the distance and headlights start

to flash around them. kay reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tubular

metallic device the size of a pocket recorder. he checks his watch,

figures in his head, then dials an electronic counter on the side of the

device up to '08.'

kay (cont'd)

this is called a 'neuralyzer.' a gift from

some friends from out of town. the red eye

here isolates and measures the electronic

impulses in your brain. more specifically,

the ones for memory.

behind him, six more men in black, all wearing black suits and sunglasses,

come over the hill. kay barks a few orders to them.

kay (cont'd)

gimme a splay burn on the perimeter, please;

holes at 40, 60, and 80.

2nd ins agent

what in the hell is going on?!

kay

exactly the right question. and the answer

lies right -- here. pay attention.

janus

who are you, really?

kay

really? i'm just a figment of your

imagination.

he holds up the neuralyzer. the agents peer closely at it. kay reaches

into his pocket, puts on his own black sunglasses --

-- and pushes a button on the side of the neuralyzer. a blinding flash a

tenth of a second long sears the agents' eyeballs. they stare blankly.

kay (cont'd)

god, we're a gullible breed.

behind him, tongues of fire blast from a flame thrower held by one of the

men in black. kay looks back at the ins agents, who are just coming

around, as if awakening from a concussion.

kay (cont'd)

i mean it, fellas, you are lucky to be

alive after a blast like that.

the agents look around, confused.

agent janus

what -- blast?

kay gestures behind him, where the men in black are now using fire

extinguishers to douse the flames they themselves started.

kay

underground gas vein, genius. you guys need

to exercise more caution before discharging

your firearms.

he jabs a finger into janus' chest.

kay (cont'd)

especially you.

dee has moved away from them all and is sitting on a rock, staring up at

the night sky, his sunglasses dangling idly from one hand. kay steps away

from the group and finds him. he sits down next to him.

dee

i'm sorry. about...back there.

kay

happens.

dee

didn't used to.

he holds up his hands, which tremble with age.

dee (cont'd)

the spirit's willing, kay, but the rest of

me...

he looks up, at the million stars shining overhead.

dee (cont'd)

they're beautiful, aren't they?

kay

what?

dee

the stars. we never just -- look. anymore.

(back to kay)

i'll tell ya, kay. i will miss the chase.

kay pulls his neuralyzer from his pocket and looks down at it.

kay

no. you won't.

ext. grand central station -- southern exposure -- night

a shot of the clock on the station's stately southern exposure. we pan

down to...

a pair of feet running. they belong to a man we will know as the

perpetrator. as we track with him, he speeds up and out of frame.

a new set of feet come into frame. these belong to james edwards, a nyc

cop in undercover street clothes. in the background, about ten feet

behind, are two other cops, trying to keep up.

edwards is a lot faster, though. he pulls out his badge that hangs from a

chain under his shirt.

edwards

stop! nypd!

he continues running, out of frame, and we stay on one of the other cops,

overweight, who gives up the chase and drops to his knees, heaving air.

cop

all yours, edwards!

the cop fumbles in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes.

track with edwards and the perp

as they run down the bridge that traverses park avenue in the low forties.

the perp veers to the left and, seemingly oblivious to the fact that it's

a thirty-foot drop, he hurdles the guard rail, and drops to forty-first

street below.

edwards is surprised by this maneuver, but doesn't waste a second. he,

too, hurdles the guard rail and lands on...

ext. 41st street and park avenue - night

a double-decker bus, one of those cheesy sightseers that hold up midtown

traffic. the bus, of course, is completely filled with japanese tourists,

and it seems like every single one of them has a video camera.

edwards pushes through the crowd...

edwards

grand central station off to your left,

folks...

with the bus still moving, he scrambles down the circular stairs and runs

out through the side door.

he spots the perp, sailing east on forty-first street.

edwards

dammit, man, you're making me sweat up my

gear!

edwards spots one of those new york post delivery trucks, the kind with

the open back door, rumbling by. he runs and jumps into the back.

ext. fifth avenue -- night

the perp, meanwhile, is running at top speed, when edwards glides into

frame, leaning off the back of the truck.

edwards

yo, man, your luck just ran out.

he leaps from the back of the moving truck and tackles the perp.

the perp, now straddled by edwards, is terrified.

perp

he's coming! he's coming!

edwards

and when he gets here, i'll kick his ass

too.

edwards is about to slap the cuffs on him, when the perp blinks. nothing

unusual about that, but then another set of translucent, milky white

eyelids, underneath his regular eyelids, blinks also.

edwards is thrown for a moment, which is all the time the perp needs to

pull out...

his weapon, which is the strangest looking gun you've ever seen. reacting

quickly, edwards bats it out of the perp's hand.

the weapon smashes into the stone wall surrounding central park and

shatters into a million pieces.

edwards

what the...

whomp! the perp kicks him in the nuts, then scrambles to his feet and

takes off again. edwards staggers after him, in pain.

the perp leaps over a moving car, towards the guggenheim museum. edwards

tries to follow, but a bus pulls in front of him. after it passes, the

perp is gone.

ext. guggenheim museum -- night

edwards runs over to the museum, leans over the wall that surrounds it,

and in the next instant...

the perp flies past him, having leapt from twenty feet down to the top of

the guggenheim. he scrambles up and over the ledge.

edward reacts. he runs to the front door of the museum, shoots it open and

runs inside.

he runs from the rotunda up the grand ramp of the guggenheim.

ext. guggenheim museum -- roof -- night

on the roof, the perp reaches the top, climbs over the edge, and crunches

to the gravel surface. he leaps to his feet and races over to a door. it's

locked.

he tugs on another. it's locked too. he pulls on a third. it swings open --

-- revealing edwards on the other side, breathing hard. he aims his weapon

at the perp.

edwards

wassup?

the perp screams inhumanly and panics. he backpedals, toward the edge of

the roof.

perp

he's coming! he's coming because i failed,

and now he'll kill me too!

edwards

stop!

perp

you don't understand. your world is gonna

end.

but the perp has backed right into the edge of the roof, and now he starts

to fall over. the perp blinks.

edwards

what are you?!

the perp looks down. he decides.

-- and he falls, screaming, to his death.

cut to:

int. interrogation room -- night

edwards sits on one side of the table, a police inspector and a uniformed

sergeant (the one who gave up the chase and lit a cigarette earlier), sit

across from him.

inspector

perpetrator then blinked two sets of

eyelids. you mean blinked with both eyes?

edwards

no, sir. he blinked once with one set, then

again with another completely different set.

sergeant

sort of a low beam, high beam.

inspector

was that before or after he drew the weapon

which you claim evaporated into a million

pieces?

edwards

after, sir.

inspector

and why do you suppose none of the other

officers saw either of these two events?

edwards

'cause some of the other officers are a

little soggy in the midsection. and they

couldn't keep up, sir.

sergeant

hey, edwards, if you were half the man i

am --

edwards

what do you mean? i am half the man you are.

sergeant

what the hell is your problem?

edwards

my problem is you being all up in my damn

face all the time.

sergeant

i think he threw him off the roof. ten

minutes -- your best shot.

inspector

(cutting off the sergeant)

sergeant. i want to talk to you outside.

now.

edwards

you need ten minutes on a stairmaster, you

pudgy bastard.

int. interrogation room -- later -- night

a woman sneaks into the room. doctor laurel weaver, thirtyish,

dark-haired, dark-eyed, general aura of darkness around her, stands above

him. laurel looks like she was just dragged out of bed (which she was) and

saw a spaceman (which she did). she looks over her shoulder once, then

whispers to him.

laurel

laurel weaver. deputy medical examiner. i

believe you. i opened him up. find me at

the morgue. on 26th. i'll tell you what i

found.

edwards

hey...wait a minute. wait a minute.

laurel

(turning at the door)

you have really pretty eyes.

she hurries to turn the corner, but is stopped by someone who remains just

offscreen.

voice (o.s.)

dr. weaver, from the coroner's office?

working on the john doe?

edwards twists in his chair, to get a better look. all he sees is laurel,

facing whoever it is in the hallway.

laurel

yes. that's right.

voice (o.s.)

would you look right here, please.

the someone says something else and laurel steps forward, now also out of

edwards's line of vision.

laurel (o.s.)

look where?

edwards stretches even further in his seat, when there is a blinding flash

from the corridor. really curious now, he starts to get up --

-- when kay steps into the room and closes the door behind him. edwards

rolls his eyes.

kay

some night, huh?

edwards

oh, yeah, some night.

he crosses to the door.

kay

they were gills.

edwards stops.

kay

not eyelids.

edwards

who are you?

kay

did he say anything to you?

edwards

(scoffing)

yeah, sure. he said the world was coming to

an end.

kay

did he say when?

edwards

you're kidding, right?

kay

would you recognize his weapon if you saw

it again?

edwards

absolutely.

kay

let's take a ride.

edwards

wait a minute. i got a ton of paperwork.

kay

it's all done.

at that point, the inspector sticks his head in, smiles and gives edwards

the thumbs up.

inspector

good work, edwards.

edwards looks at the inspector, then at kay. as they leave.

kay

you ran that guy down on foot? that's tough.

that's double tough.

cut to:

int. ford ltd - a moment later - driving

in a plain, boxy ford, kay drives, silent. he raises his hand and nods to

a black mib truck coming in the opposite direction.edwards, in the

passenger seat, is still in his undercover outfit.

edwards

so who you with?

kay says nothing.

edwards (cont'd)

you got the plain clothes, the

government-issued wheels. secret service?

cia?

kay remains utterly silent.

edwards (cont'd)

(referring to the car)

yeah, well, whoever it is, you're short on

funding.

kay

nothing is what it seems, kid.

edwards

oh, yeah, my bad '86 ford ltd. that's a

luxury ride. c'mon, who ya with?

kay pulls the car to a stop.

kay

i'm part of a secret organization that

monitors and polices alien activity on earth.

kay opens the door and gets out of the car. edwards follows.

ext. pawn shop - night

edwards looks around. sees they're standing in front of a pawn shop.

edwards

this is where we're going?

they get out of the car.

edwards (cont'd)

jack jeebs? guy buys from chain snatchers.

doesn't even sell guns.

kay

really?

edwards

all right, you think it's worth shaking him

up, fine. i'll do my thing. then i want some

answers.

kay

do your 'thing,' kid. edwards goes inside.

int. pawn shop - night

jack jeebs is the sleazy, sarcastic proprietor of the pawn shop. he's not

easily intimidated.

jeebs

officer edwards. oh, hey, geez, how'd these

get here? i thought i turned 'em in to the

proper authorities.

he casually brushes some rolexes off the counter.

edwards

way i hear it, jeebs, you into something a

little hotter than some stolen rolexes.

jeebs

sure -- i'm a big crack dealer now. i just

work here because i love the hours.

this pisses edwards off. he grabs jeebs by the collar.

edwards

(getting angry)

i'm talking about guns, jeebs. high-tech

stuff.

jeebs

c'mon, edwards, whatcha see is what i got.

kay (o.s.)

why don't you show him the imports, jeebs.

at the sound of kay's voice, jeebs suddenly pales, a look of fear coming

over his face.

jeebs

h-hiya kay, how are you?

kay

the imports, jeebs. now.

jeebs

you know i got outta that business a long

time ago, kay.

kay

why do you lie to me? i hate it when you

lie.

he pulls his own gun and aims it at jeebs' forehead.

jeebs

whoa, whoa, kay, hold on a minute here...

kay

i'm going to count to three.

edwards, seeing that kay is getting somewhere, joins in the routine.

edwards

he'll do it, jeebs.

kay

one.

edwards

i've seen him do it.

kay

two.

edwards

talk to me, jeebs, he's crazy when he's

like this.

jeebs

he's always crazy.

(to kay)

take a cruise. get a massage --

kay

three.

ka-boom! kay blows jeebs' head off and jeebs' body collapses to the floor.

edwards is shocked.

edwards pulls his own weapon and points it at kay's head.

edwards

put down the gun and put your hands on the

counter!

kay

i warned him.

edwards

drop the weapon!

kay

you warned him.

edwards

you are under arrest. you have the right to

remain silent.

kay

will you relax?

jeebs (o.s.)

(irritated)

don't do that.

edwards whirls around to see jeebs' body, growing another head. only takes

four or five seconds. kay calmly shoves his gun up against jeebs'

baby-soft new cheek.

jeebs (cont'd)

do you know how much that hurts?

kay

show us what you got, jeebs. or i'll use up

another one.

jeebs, panicked, hits a button on the underside of the counter, which

promptly flips over, revealing yet another dusty shelf, piled high with

junk --

-- but this is all alien junk. weapons, mostly, bizarre, otherworldly

weapons of all shapes and sizes.

kay

edwards?

edwards, still dazed by jeebs' regrown head, glances down at all the

weapons.

edwards

uh, this. this is what i saw.

kay looks at jeebs, pissed off.

kay

you sold a carbonizer with implosion capacity

to an unlicensed cephlapoid.

jeebs

he looked all right to me.

kay

a carbonizer is an assassin's weapon, jeebs.

who was the target?

jeebs

i don't know.

kay raises the weapon again, threatening.

kay

jeebs!

jeebs

i don't know!

kay lowers his gun, gestures to the shelf full of weapons.

kay

this is all confiscated. all of it. i want

you on the next transport off this rock. or

i'll shoot you where it doesn't grow back.

jeebs nods, point taken. kay leaves.

edwards

yeah. i'll be by tomorrow for those rolexes.

shaken, edwards follows.

ext. pawn shop -- night

edwards staggers out of the shop, trying to get the day's events straight

in his head.

edwards

the eyelids, fine ... and the jumping thing

... and the gun ... okay, but the head?

kay

searching for a handle on the moment here?

a place to file all this.

edwards

see a head doesn't do that, it doesn't just

grow back.

(looking up)

what's going on?

kay

can't help you, kid. only comfort i can

offer is that tomorrow, you won't remember

a thing.

edwards

oh, no. this i'm gonna remember for a long,

long time.

kay pulls the neuralyzer from his pocket. he hesitates for the briefest of

moments -- as if this particular neuralyzation is different than all the

others.

then he puts on his sunglasses.

kay

ever see one of these?

cut to:

int. chinese restaurant - night

-- the flash dims on edwards and kay, sitting at a table in a chinese

restaurant.

kay

(finishing a joke)

-- and the wife says yeah, harry, i know,

but this one's eating my popcorn!

he busts out laughing. edwards, across from him, is completely

disoriented. he looks down. there's a half-eaten order of broccoli beef

and several empty bottles of beer on the table in front of him.

edwards

huh?

kay checks his watch.

kay

whoops. gotta run. thanks for the egg rolls.

edwards

where am i?

kay

see what i mean about tequila? you're a

bright young man, james. just lay off the

sauce. i'll see you tomorrow, nine a.m.

sharp.

he turns and walks out. edwards checks his watch. a waitress appears.

waitress

another beer?

edwards

coffee. please.

she walks off. edwards looks at the table. there is a business card lying

next to his plate, on which kay has handwritten 'james d. edwards,

saturday, 9 a.m., 504 battery drive.'

edwards looks at it, puzzled. he turns the card over and looks at the

other side. there's not much there, no name, no phone or fax number, no

e-mail address. just three little letters, dead in the middle of the card:

mib

cut to:

ext. farmhouse - night

a lonely farmhouse stands amid the fields of upstate new york farm

country. several lights are on and through a window we can see the

silhouette of a man sitting at the kitchen table, the silhouette of a

woman hovering over him, bringing things to him.

the man (edgar) waves his arms, ranting.

edgar (o.s.)

i go out, i work my butt off to make a

living, all i want is to come home to a

nice clean house with a nice fat steak on

the table, but instead i get this -- this

-- i don't even know what you call this!

in the sky above, it's one of those brilliant star fields. but something

strange is happening with one of those stars -- it's getting bigger.

edgar (o.s.)

i'll tell you what it looks like, it looks

like poison. don't you take that away, i'm

eating that, damn it! it is poison, isn't

it?!

no, that star isn't getting bigger, it's moving. toward us. fast. it goes

from a pinpoint to a dime, to a nickel, to a quarter, and works its way

into fruit metaphors.

edgar (o.s.)

i swear to god, i would not be surprised if

it was, the way you skulk around here like

a dog been hit too much -- or ain't been

hit enough, i can't make up my mind.

okay, we're way past watermelon now, that thing is huge, and it's starting

to glow hot red as it enters the earth's atmosphere, headed straight

toward us, coming here, to beatrice and edgar's place.

the blazing fireball barrels through the sky, snaps off a couple trees --

edgar (o.s.)

you're useless, beatrice! the only thing

that pulls its weight around here is my

goddamn truck!

-- and slams right through a pickup truck parked in the driveway. a

concussive blast follows, then a geyser of smoke and flame erupts.

edgar (o.s.)

stay here!

the silhouette of edgar leaps to its feet, races to the door, and throws

it open. edgar is everything his voice led us to expect -- a nasty,

bug-eyed redneck carrying a twelve-gauge shotgun. his mouth agape, he

walks across the yard and stares at the hulking shell that was his truck.

the skeleton of the truck is still there, but there's a huge, smoldering

hole in it, a hole that goes at least ten feet down into the ground.

edgar

figures.

he walks to the truck and touches the door handle. hot. using his shirt

tail, he opens the door and peers down into the hole.

in the hole, he sees a smooth curve of metal and a few blinking lights.

embedded into the ground is, indeed, a spaceship, maybe eight feet across.

beatrice calls from behind him, standing in the doorway fearfully.

beatrice

what is it, edgar?!

edgar

(turns to her)

get your big butt back in that house!

beatrice does as she's told, closing the door behind her. edgar turns back

to the smoldering rock, raising his shotgun in defense. an otherworldly

voice comes from deep in the hole.

voice (o.s.)

place projectile weapon on ground.

edgar staggers back a step, terrified. but then he regains himself, raises

the weapon, and steps forward, pointing it menacingly down into the hole.

edgar

you can have my gun when you pry it from my

cold, dead fingers!

there is a pause while the voice thinks about this offer. finally, it

responds, in a voice and cadence remarkably similar to edgar's.

voice (o.s.)

your proposal is acceptable.

a long, hairy pincer flashes out of the hole, grabs edgar by the head, and

pulls him down into the hole.

from deep in the hole, we hear a terrible ripping sound, like a bedsheet

being torn in half. there are some disgusting gushy sounds, then a moment

later, something flies out of the hole and flops onto the ground next to

the truck.

it's edgar. well, sort of. his body parts still hang together -- face,

arms, legs, even clothes -- but everything inside has been removed and now

he just lies there, flat and empty, like a tuxedo on the floor after the

prom.

the shotgun flies out and lands beside him.

cut to:

int. farmhouse - kitchen - night

beatrice sits at the kitchen table, terrified, still wiping away tears

from edgar's diatribe. the door opens and edgar comes back into the

kitchen, seemingly fleshed out again, leaving the door hanging open behind

him. he carries the shotgun.

she looks up at him, anxious. but his face is a blank.

beatrice

what on earth was it?!

he looks at her strangely. when he speaks, his voice is different than

before. more refined.

edgar

sugar.

pause. she looks out the window, at the smoking truck.

beatrice

i've never seen sugar do that.

edgar

give me sugar.

puzzled, beatrice gets up, goes to the cabinet, and grabs a bag of sugar.

she holds it out to him.

edgar (cont'd)

in water.

frightened, she takes a glass of water from the table. she dumps some of

the sugar into it.

edgar (cont'd)

more.

she puts more, till the glass is brimming. she stirs it quickly with a

knife and hands it to him, her hand trembling.

edgar takes it and downs it in a single gulp. beatrice stares at edgar, no

idea what to think. she notices something odd about the skin on his neck.

beatrice

edgar, your skin! it's -- it's -- just

hanging off your bones!

edgar drops the glass and looks in a window, to catch his reflection. he

reaches up --

-- and twists his whole face, as if adjusting a ski mask, then tucks the

skin of his neck back into his shirt collar. he looks at her.

edgar

that better?

beatrice faints.

ext. farmhouse - night

stillness. silence. a loud scraping sound comes from the pit left by the

spaceship.

the nose of the ship itself rises up out of the pit, wavers, keeps moving,

and finally crunches to the ground outside the pit.

edgar climbs out of the pit, breathing heavily. he dusts himself off and

continues pushing the ship, along the ground, off into the darkness.

cut to:

ext. mib building - day

the next morning. edwards, holding the small mib business card in his

hand, compares the address written down by kay to the address on the

utterly nondescript building in front of him. it's seven stories high,

gray, windowless, perfectly square, squatting on a bridge over a road like

a fat guy on the john.

'504 battery drive.'

int. mib building - tunnel vent room - day

edwards steps through a heavily barred metal door and into long, bizarre

room. one wall is entirely dominated by the enormous blades of a tunnel

vent air intake. there is an elevator at the far end of the room and an

old security guard, the rent-a-cop kind, reading a comic book on a folding

metal chair halfway across.

edwards walks across the room, his footsteps echoing. the guard looks up.

guard

help you?

edwards

maybe, i'm not sure, see, i got this card --

guard

elevator. push the 'call' button.

and he goes back to his comic book. edwards, maybe out of nothing more

than curiosity at this point, walks across the room, toward the elevator.

as he draws close, the elevator doors whoosh open, expecting him.

int. mib building - entrance elevator - day

edwards steps inside and turns around. the doors close. he pushes the

'call' button and waits, but the elevator doesn't move. instead, doors on

the other side of the elevator slide open silently behind him. edwards

waits, unaware.

from behind him, somebody clears their throat. edwards turns around, and

finds himself standing in --

int. mib building - interview room - day

this back room is every bit as mysterious and unfamiliar as the entryway.

standing at the front of the room is zed, a wire-haired career g-man, an

old school bureaucrat, wearing the exact same kind of suit kay had on last

night. six other hot recruits sit in egg-shaped chairs, staring at

edwards.

one chair is empty.

zed

you're late. sit down.

edwards takes the remaining chair. the elevator doors slide shut. zed

continues addressing the recruits.

zed (cont'd)

my name is zed. you're all here because

you're the best of the best. marines, navy

seals, army rangers...nypd.

they all turn and regard edwards a little smugly. he gives it back.

zed (cont'd)

and we're looking for one of you. just one.

what will follow is a series of simple

tests designed to quantify motor skills,

hand-eye coordination, concentration,

stamina -- i see we have a question.

edwards's hand is, indeed, up.

edwards

why, uh -- i'm sorry, it's just no one

really asked this, but -- why, exactly, are

we doing this?

silence. then one of the young recruits eagerly raises his hand. zed calls

on him.

zed

son?

ambitious recruit

(loud and formal)

jake jensen, west point, graduate with

honors. we're here because you're looking

for the best of the best of the best, sir!

edwards tries to stifle a laugh, but can't.

zed

what's so funny, edwards?

edwards

i -- i don't know, sir. this guy. 'best of

the best of the best of the best of the --'

(realizing nobody is with

him on this)

it just struck me as --

(totally serious)

humorous. sir.

short pause. then zed continues.

zed

okay. let's get going.

int. mib building - interview room - later - day

the recruits scribble away at the written test. it's a thick document --

reasoning skills, general knowledge, diagrams. the recruits seem to be

really powering through it, filling in answer after answer.

but no desks have been provided for them, and they're all still in their

chairs, writing uncomfortably on their thighs or knees.

edwards is really struggling. he writes two words on one answer, then

decides to erase it. the lack of a writing surface is driving him crazy;

his pencil even tears through the page.

he looks up. in the middle of the tile floor, there is an unused table.

edwards gets up, goes to it, grabs hold --

-- and drags it, screeching deafeningly, back to his chair. everybody

looks up, wincing at the horrible sound that fills the room.

edwards sits back down, now writing on the table. that's better.

zed raises an eyebrow. he stares at edwards, then looks up, toward a

smoked glass window. behind the dark glass, a figure stands, staring,

unemotional.

cut to:

int. mib building -- shooting gallery -- day

seven weapons rest on a table in the middle of an otherwise empty,

triangular room. the seven recruits stand in front of the table.

there's an odd moment -- where everyone sort of looks around: at each

other, at the blank walls...

edwards

anyone, uh...any of you guys know what we're

doing here?

marine

(clipped, unquestioning)

looking for the best of the best of the best.

edwards

(can't help but smile)

well, yeah, i know, but...

and then .. suddenly --

the two far walls pull apart. the whole room pulsates and the air is

suddenly filled with a bewildering swirl of stroboscopic images, both

human and alien. everywhere is color, light and movement -- a holographic

mass of strange shapes and characters moving simultaneously.

the recruits lunge for the weapons, snapping them up and taking aim. six

shots are fired at once. and then, a second later, a seventh shot is

fired. everyone sort of looks at edwards, who puts his gun down last.

there's an awkward silence. then the door opens. light pours in, and zed

with it. even the highly competitive cadets can't help but feel some

sympathy as zed walks straight to edwards.

zed

the hell happened?

edwards

hesitated, sir.

zed looks into the gallery. most obvious in the frozen tableau of

creatures is a lunging, snarling beast, which has three bullet holes in

its chest. next to it is a massively deformed humanoid creature with a

large hook for a head, which also has three holes in it. in the back

corner of the gallery, there is a single bullet hole in a pretty

eight-year-old girl.

zed

may i ask why you felt little tiffany

deserved to die?

edwards

she was the only one who actually seemed

dangerous. at the time.

zed

and how did you come to that conclusion?

edwards

hook-head guy. you explain to me how he can

think with a hook for a head. answer; it's

not his head. his head is that butt-ugly

bean-bag thing over there. 'cause if you

look at the snarling beast-guy, he's not

snarling, he's sneezing -- he's got tissues

in his hand. no threat there, and anyhow,

the girl's books were way too advanced for

an eight-year-old's. and besides, from

where i'm looking, she was the only one who

appeared to have a motive. and i don't

appreciate your jumping down my throat about

it.

sideways glances from the other recruits. zed sighs.

edwards (cont'd)

or, uh -- do i owe her an apology?

cut to:

int. mib building - observation room/interview room - day

zed and kay stand behind smoked glass, staring at the recruits, who are

still in the shooting gallery, waiting for a decision.

zed

he's got a real problem with authority.

kay

so do i. the guy ran down a cephlapoid, zed.

on foot. tenacity. that i can use.

zed

i hope you know what you're doing.

zed turns and walks away. kay stares through the glass, at edwards, who

stands alone on one side of the room, apart from the rest of the group.

zed reappears on the other side of the glass, coming through a door and

into the shooting gallery. as he talks, kay turns and walks off.

zed (cont'd)

congratulations, you're everything we've

come to expect from years of government

training. now, if you'll just follow me, we

have one more test to administer, an eye

exam.

int. mib building - hallway - day

the recruits follow zed out of the shooting gallery and into a long

hallway. zed motions them off to the left. edwards is the last one out of

the room, but he stops as he steps into the hallway.

kay is outside the door, waiting for him. edwards recognizes him from last

night.

edwards

you! hey, what's goin' on?

the other recruits continue down the hall with zed. kay doesn't answer,

just gestures to edwards to follow him down the hall, which he does.

kay

back in the mid-fifties, the government

started a little underfunded agency with

the simple and laughable purpose of making

contact with a race not of this planet.

as they pass an alcove, edwards notices the six other recruits, who have

been herded into a corner. zed, addressing them, pulls a neuralyzer from

his pocket.

zed

now, if you'll look directly at the end of

this device.

he holds a neuralyzer up in front of them, and the recruits stare

obediently at it as zed slips on a pair of black sunglasses.

edwards stares, fascinated, but kay's hand reaches in and yanks him away,

just as zed's neuralyzer flashes white.

int. mib building - hallway - day

as kay leads edwards down an impossibly long corridor, he hands him a file

folder stuffed thick with eight by ten photographs.

he hands jay the first picture, a shot of eight or nine men in plain black

suits standing around a fifties-style office with metal desks and

fluorescent lights. dee and zed are there, much younger.

kay

everybody thought the agency was a joke.

except the aliens. they made contact on

march 2nd, 1961, outside new york city.

another photograph, a grainy black and white image of two ships hovering

in the night sky -- classic flying saucer shapes.

kay (cont'd)

there were nine of us that night. seven

agents. an amateur astronomer. and one poor

kid who got lost on the wrong back road.

yet another photograph, this one showing a young kay, in a shirt and tie,

holding a bouquet of flowers, staring at the open door of the landed

flying saucer. alien shapes are visible within.

edwards

you brought the aliens flowers?

kay steers edwards to the right, down another corridor, just as long as

the first.

kay

they were intergalactic refugees with a

simple request. let us use the earth as an

apolitical zone for people without a

planet. ever see 'casablanca?' same thing,

no nazis. we agreed. so we masked all

evidence of their landing.

another picture, this one of the 1964 world's fair grounds, still under

construction. giant models of rockets mark the fair's theme of space

travel; most prominent in the construction are two tall towers, with the

flying saucers now mounted at the top of each.

edwards

the 1964 world's fair was a coverup?

kay

why else would we hold it in queens?

(another hallway)

now left. more nonhumans arrive every year.

they live among us, in secret.

edwards

i see. not to change the subject, but when

was your last cat-scan?

kay

every six months; it's company policy.

edwards

well, thanks for the very amusing morning,

but i'm hopin' you'll show me where i came

in? 'cause this is where i go out.

they have stopped next to an unmarked door. kay throws it open and steps

inside.

kay

yeah, sure, hang on, i wanna grab a coffee

while we're right here.

as kay walks into the kitchenette, edwards' jaw drops, his eyes widen, and

he stares in wonderment --

-- at three worm-like aliens standing around a water cooler. tall,

impossibly thin, most certainly not from new york, the aliens hold an

animated conversation in a language that seems like a combination of

esperanto and microphone feedback.

kay (cont'd)

(to the aliens)

don't tell me we've only got that powdered

shit for cream again?

one of the worm aliens answers him in their native tongue and points to

the counter.

kay (cont'd)

oh.

he finds the cream sitting out on the counter where the alien indicated,

dumps some in his coffee, and comes back outside, closing the door behind

him. he reaches up and gently pushes edwards' jaw up, closing his mouth.

kay (cont'd)

for future reference, this is a better look

for you.

cut to:

ext. battery park - day

edwards, thrown for a major loop, sits like a zombie alongside kay on a

bench in battery park. kay drinks his coffee while they talk.

kay

any given time, around fifteen hundred

landed aliens are on the planet, the

majority right here in manhattan. most

aliens are decent enough, just trying to

make a living.

edwards

cab drivers?

kay

not as many as you'd think. humans, for the

most part, don't have a clue. don't want

one, either. they're happy. they think

they've got a pretty good bead on things.

edwards

why the big secret? people are smart, they

can handle it.

kay

a person is smart. people are dumb.

everything they've ever 'known' has been

proven to be wrong. a thousand years ago

everybody knew as a fact, that the earth

was the center of the universe. five

hundred years ago, they knew it was flat.

fifteen minutes ago, you knew we humans

were alone on it. imagine what you'll know

tomorrow.

edwards

so what's the catch?

kay

what you'll gain in perspective, you'll

lose in ways you're too young to comprehend.

you give up everything. sever every human

contact. no one will know you exist. ever.

edwards

nobody?

kay

you're not even allowed a favorite shirt.

there. that's the speech i never heard.

that's the choice i never got.

edwards

hold up. you track me down, put me through

those stupid-ass tests, now you're trying

to talk me out of it. i don't get it.

kay

you got 'til sun-up.

edwards

is it worth it?

kay

you find out, you let me know.

dissolve to:

ext. battery park - dusk

almost nighttime now, and the park is empty. edwards is still on the

bench. and still thinking. above him, the stars are coming out.

slowly, he looks up, into the vastness of the heavens.

dissolve to:

int. garage - day

the next morning. a door opens on a garage and an orkin man steps inside,

carrying a tank of toxic gas. the morning light spills on an abundance of

spiders, crawling everywhere -- big ones, small ones, hundreds of them

have moved in and taken over this dusty place.

the orkin man sighs and sets down his tank.

orkin man

well, well, well. movin' right in, are we?

think we own the place?

he unfurls a hose from the side of the tank.

orkin man (cont'd)

got a little eviction notice for you, boys.

he raises a mask to his face and unscrews the handle on the top of the

tank. lethal gas starts to hiss from the end of the hose.

voice (o.s.)

just what exactly do you think you're doing?

the orkin man turns around. edgar stands in the doorway to the garage,

staring at him disdainfully.

orkin man

(shrugs)

takin' care of your pest problem.

edgar

'pest' problem? 'pest?'

orkin man

yeah. you got a hell of an infestation.

edgar advances on him, slowly.

edgar

you know, i have noticed an infestation

here. everywhere i look, in fact. nothing

but undeveloped, unevolved, barely conscious

pond scum. so convinced of their own

superiority as they scurry about their

short, pointless lives.

orkin man

well -- yeah. don't you want to get rid of

'em?

edgar

in the worst way.

edgar lashes out quickly, jerking the mask off the orkin man's face with

one hand --

-- and shoving the gas hose down his throat with the other.

the orkin man's car keys drop to the garage floor, and edgar picks them

up.

ext. garage - day

a six-by-ten sheet of plywood thuds to the driveway outside the garage.

edgar raises one end of it so it's hanging off the back end of the orkin

man's van -- now it's a ramp.

he walks off and we hear that familiar scraping sound again. edgar,

grunting with the effort, slowly pushes his spaceship up the ramp and into

the back of the orkin truck.

cut to:

int. mib building - tunnel vent room - day

edwards stands in the middle of the tunnel vent room, the same one he

first came into yesterday. the elevator doors open and kay, obviously

summoned by the old security guard, stands waiting for him.

edwards

one thing you gotta know right now.

edwards walks briskly forward and gets in the elevator with kay.

int. mib building - elevator - day

inside the elevator, the doors whoosh shut, kay turns a key in a certain

floor number, and the descent begins. edwards continues.

edwards

all right. i'm in because there's some

next-level shit going on around here, and

i'm with that. before you beam me up, there

are a couple of things we need to get

straight. you chose me 'cause you recognize

the skills. so as of now you can cease with

all of that calling me 'son' or 'kid' or

'sport.' cool?

kay

cool, slick. now about those skills of yours,

the elevator doors --

int. mib building - headquarters - day

-- slide open on men in black headquarters.

kay

as of this moment, they don't mean much.

it's unlike anything we've ever seen -- huge, multileveled, of sixties

design, polished steel and glass. the workplaces are sleek and

uncluttered, manned by both humans and aliens. most of the aliens stay in

the background, like the upside-down guy who walks on the ceiling,

shuffling papers.

kay and edwards step off the elevator and onto a platform that looks out

over the whole place.

kay leads him down into the complex. first, they walk past a sort of

passport control center, where a human bureaucrat at a desk is checking

the documents of a line of aliens who've just arrived. there are a dozen

bizarre life forms in that line, chatting in half a dozen different alien

tongues.

edwards slows as they pass, listening to the passport control officer as

he addresses an arquillian, a large, humanoid visitor.

passport officer

purpose of trip?

arquillian

diplomatic mission.

passport officer

duration of stay?

arquillian

lunch.

passport officer

carrying any fruits or vegetables?

edwards just stares, fascinated, but kay grabs him by the arm and hurries

him along.

kay

let's go. he's a little...grouchy.

kay moves him into the central hall.

kay

a couple of hours wait after a 17-light-year

flight would get on anybody's nerves.

edwards

what branch of the government do we report

to?

kay

none. they started asking too many questions.

edwards

so who pays for all this?

kay

oh, we hold a few patents on gadgets we

confiscated from our out-of-state visitors.

velcro. microwave ovens. liposuction.

at a storage cage, kay turns a key in the lock of a caged-in area and

throws the door open. inside, there are piles of sophisticated-looking

devices stacked on shelves and tabletops.

kay

(picking something up)

here. a new recording device to replace

cd's. so now i gotta buy the white album

again?

(something else)

this is amusing. universal translator.

he holds up a cylindrical metal tube and a small wire clip that looks like

a lapel microphone.

kay (cont'd)

we're not supposed to have it. i'll tell

you why. human thought is so primitive

it's considered an infectious disease.

makes you proud, doesn't it?

edwards picks up a small yellow ball from one of the shelves.

edwards

what's this?

kay (cont'd)

don't touch that!

the ball zings out of edwards' hands -- it flies out into the main complex

-- hits the ceiling and ricochets around the room, faster than the eye can

follow --

various shots of humans and aliens ducking, dodging, and jumping out of

its way.

on kay as he calmly, a little wearily, slips an odd-looking metal glove

over his right hand...

he raises his hand and the yellow ball zings into it -- kay catches the

ball, calmly.

kay (cont'd)

caused the '77 new york blackout. practical

joke by the great attractor. he thought it

was funny as hell.

they leave the room.

edwards

sorry!

on the main floor, they walk briskly across the room, reaching a giant

screen on the far wall.

kay

observation, the heart of our little

endeavor.

the screen displays a map of the world on which thousands of tiny lights

blink in all parts of the globe, log lines of data flashing next to them.

kay (cont'd)

this map shows the location of every

registered alien on earth at any given

time. some of them we keep under constant

surveillance.

he hits a button on the console and the map is replaced by hundreds of

boxes, each with smaller video images.

kay (cont'd)

everyone on these screens is an alien. in

public -- normal. in private -- you'll get

the idea.

on the screens, we see live images of aliens. aliens who look alien are in

spots where they can't be seen. aliens who look human are functioning

right out in public -- including sam donaldson. michael jackson. and tony

robbins.

kay (cont'd)

meet the twins.

kay gestures to two small, bony creatures with eight arms each and a

single eye growing out of a central stalk in their heads. they turn around

and wave two or three arms each.

edwards

i gotta be honest about something.

kay

it makes no sense?

edwards

it makes perfect sense. when i was a third

grader in philadelphia, they told me i was

crazy 'cause i swore that our teacher was

from, like, venus or something.

kay

mrs. edelson.

edwards, stunned, looks at kay as 4-eyes boots her onto the screen: mean

face, cat glasses. bony fingers. extremely well-hidden tail.

kay

jupiter, actually. well, one of the moons.

with their remaining arms, they punch button after button on the enormous

console. zed, who was standing up close to the screen, walks over to

edwards, sizing him up.

zed

what's your jacket size, edwards?

edwards

uh -- forty regular.

zed

then let's put it on.

edwards

put what on?

zed

the last suit you'll ever wear.

cut to:

int. mib building - locker room - day

like the rest of the place, the mib locker room is all white. white walls,

white floor, white ceiling, white lockers. zed's voice comes over:

zed (o.s.)

from now on, you'll dress only in attire

specially sanctioned by mib special

services.

edwards reaches out and opens a white locker, revealing a black suit hung

from a hanger in the middle. above it, on the shelf, a black hat and a

pair of black sunglasses. on the bottom, a pair of shiny black shoes.

int. mib building - headquarters - day

kay is at a computer terminal. on screen are edwards's birth certificate,

driver's license, social security card, library card, everything. zed's

voice continues:

zed (o.s.)

you'll conform to the identity we give you,

eat where we tell you, live where we tell

you, get approval for any expenditure over

a hundred dollars.

int. mib building laser booth - day

edwards stands in a cramped white booth.

he holds both his hands on a ten-fingered keypad, pressing down hard. the

pad glows red, a searing sound comes from his hands, and he grimaces as

more lasers instantly and (not at all) painlessly change his fingerprints.

zed (o.s.)

you will have no identifying marks of any

kind. you will not stand out in any way.

int. mib building - headquarters - day

one by one, kay deletes edwards's identity cards.

on the computer screen is edwards' full name -- james darrel edwards iii.

kay punches a couple keys, and the cursor begins to sweep from right to

left, starting to eliminate the rightmost letters of edwards's name.

zed (o.s.)

your entire image is carefully crafted to

leave no lasting memory whatsoever with

anyone you encounter.

int. mib building - locker room - day

pants come off the hanger. the white shirt is removed.

more letters are eliminated from his name. it reads 'james darrel ed...'

then 'james darr...'

zed (o.s.)

you're a rumor, recognizable only as deja

vu and dismissed just as quickly. you don't

exist; you were never even born.

the coat is removed. the hat comes off the shelf.

zed (o.s.)

anonymity is your name. silence your native

tongue.

'james...' 'jam...'

zed (o.s.)

you are no longer part of 'the system.'

we're above the system. over it. beyond it.

feet slip into black shoes. a belt is buckled. a tie pushed up.

zed (o.s.)

we're 'them.' we're 'they.'

on screen, all that's left is the letter 'j.'

as the coat is buttoned, we notice the sleeve. monogrammed on the cuff is,

simply, the letter 'j.'

zed (o.s.)

we are the men in black.

int. mib building - headquarters - day

looking slick and handsome in his extremely sharp suit, james d edwards

iii -- or, rather, jay -- steps into the doorway from the locker room. he

reaches into his pocket, takes out the sunglasses, and looks at kay.

jay

the difference between you and me?

he slips on the sunglasses.

jay (cont'd)

i make this look good.

cut to:

ext. new jersey - early morning

we are looking at a telephoto shot of manhattan in all its splendor.

we see the orkin van topping a hill, heading towards manhattan.

int. mib building - zed's office - day

zed's office is a circular, windowed room elevated above the main floor of

mib headquarters. jay and kay sit across the desk from zed. there are five

video monitors on a wall behind zed's desk, and on each monitor is another

man in black, in different parts of the world, the city name and a clock

ticking in a corner of the image.

while zed talks, he goes through paperwork on his desk.

zed

okay, let's see.

(to one of the monitors)

bee, we got the deposed sur-prefect of

sinalee touching down in the forest outside

portland tonight. i'm pulling you down from

anchorage to do a meet-and-greet.

bee, an agent on one of the monitors, nods.

bee

humanoid?

zed

you wish. bring a sponge.

(going through memos)

what else -- everybody, we gotta keep

rolling fish-goat out of the sewer system,

he's scaring the rats. and bobo the squat

wants to reveal himself on 'unsolved

mysteries.' bee, make sure he doesn't.

he turns a page, coming across a red memo.

zed (cont'd)

red-letter from last night -- we had an

un-authorized landing somewhere in upstate

new york farm country. keep your ears open

for this one, kay, we're not hosting a

galactic kegger down here.

next to him, his computer screen beeps importantly. zed looks over at it.

zed

well, well, well -- we got a skimmer.

kay

(to jay)

landed alien out of zone.

(to zed)

who is it?

zed

redgick. he's not cleared to leave manhattan

but he's way out of town right now, stuck in

traffic on the new jersey turnpike. why

don't you take jay? this is a good one for

him to warm up on.

ext. mib building - battery park - day

jay and kay come out the front of mib headquarters.

jay

yo, wussup with zed?

(imitating him)

'go get em, tiger. we're not hosting an

intergalactic kegger...'

kay

zed was saving the world before you were

born, son. show some respect.

an mib mechanic pulls up in kay's black ltd and hops out, leaving the door

open. jay sizes up the car.

jay

we got the use of unlimited technology from

the entire universe and we cruise around in

this?

kay glares at jay. he's getting annoyed.

int. mib ltd - day

they get in and slam the doors. kay starts the car and the engine hums

quietly.

kay

seat belt.

jay

you know, ya'll gotta learn how to talk to

people. you could be a little kinder and

gentler.

kay grits his teeth.

kay

buckle up, please.

jay

now did that hurt?

kay shifts the car into reverse. the awesome power of the car kicks in and

jay sails forward, thwacking into the dash. kay shifts into forward and

taps the gas, slamming jay back into his seat.

kay

makin' fun of my ride...

a lighted panel rotates into place between the two front seats. jay's

hand falls by accident on a flashing red button in the panel.

kay

jay. the button?

jay

yeah?

kay

never push the button, jay.

jay jerks his hand away.

cut to:

ext. highway - side of the road - day

the ltd is now stopped by the side of the road, dust swirling around it.

ahead of it, another car has pulled over. kay gets out, jay follows a

moment later, shaky-legged. kay walks up to the window of the car they've

stopped. the driver, a guy in his mid-thirties with a wife in her

mid-thirties, rolls the window down.

kay

license and registration, please.

the driver hands over some documents. kay flips through them.

kay (cont'd)

other license and registration, please.

the guy digs out two other cards and hands those over. jay peers over

kay's shoulder.

the photographs on the 'resident alien id'cards are of two

friendly-looking reptile types, husband and wife, smiling atthe camera,

their long, skinny tongues dangling in a friendly sort of way.

kay hands them back.

kay (cont'd)

your resident card has you restricted to

the five boroughs only. where do you think

you're going?

redgick

it's my wife! she's -- she's -- well, look!

kay leans down and looks in the window. mrs. redgick is in front, moaning

in pain, holding her swollen belly. kay straightens up, fast.

kay

oh go