Men in Black

Edgar:
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. It looks like poison. Don't you take that away, I'm eating that, damn it. It is poison, isn't it? I swear to God I would not be surprised if it was, the way you skulk around here like a dog that's been hit too much or ain't been hit enough, I can't make up my mind. You're useless, Beatrice. The only thing that pulls its weight around here is my goddamn truck.

Edgar:
Figures

Kay:
I want you on the next transport off this rock or I'm gonna shoot you where it don't grow back.

Zed:
We're not hosting an intergalactic kegger down here.

Kay:
All right, Beatrice, there was no alien. The flash of light you saw in the sky was not a UFO. Swamp gas from a weather balloon was trapped in a thermal pocket and reflected the light from Venus.

Jay:
Wait a minute. You just flash that thing, it erases her memory, and you just make up a new one?

Kay:
A standard issue neuralyzer.

Jay:
And that weak-ass story's the best you can come up with?

Kay:
On a more personal note Beatrice, Edgar ran off with an old girlfriend, you're gonna go stay with your mom a couple nights then realize you're better off.

Jay:
Yeah, 'cause you know what? He never appreciated you anyway. In fact, *you* kicked *him* out and now that he's gone you're gonna go into town, go to Bloomingdales, find some nice dresses, you know, maybe find somewhere you can get, you know, a facial, and hire a decorator to come in here fast because... damn.

Zed:
Gentlemen, congratulations. You're everything we've come to expect from years of government training.

Zed:
You'll dress only in attire specially sanctioned by MiB special services. You'll conform to the identity we give you, eat where we tell you, live where we tell you. From now on you'll have no identifying marks of any kind. You'll not stand out in any way. Your entire image is crafted to leave no lasting memory with anyone you encounter. You're a rumor, recognizable only as deja vu and dismissed just as quickly. You don't exist; you were never even born. Anonymity is your name. Silence your native tongue. You're no longer part of the System. You're above the System. Over it. Beyond it. We're "them." We're "they." We are the Men in Black.

Bug:
Place projectile weapon on the ground.

Edgar:
You can have my gun, when you pry it from my cold dead fingers.

Bug:
Your proposal is acceptable.

Bug:
Ever pull the wing off a fly? Care to see the fly get even?

Jay:
Why the big secret? People are smart, they can handle it.

Kay:
A *person* is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals and you know it.

Jay:
Zed, don't you guys ever get any sleep around here?

Zed:
The twins keep us on Centaurian time, standard thirty-seven hour day. Give it a few months. You'll get used to it... or you'll have a psychotic episode.

Kay:
Set for pulsar level five, subsonic implosion factor two.

Jay:
What?

Kay:
Just shoot the damn thing on the count of three.

Kay:
Today there are approximately 1500 aliens living and working in Manhattan and most of them are decent enough, they're just trying to make a living.

Jay:
Cab drivers?

Kay:
Not as many as you'd think.

Kay:
Arquillian battle rules: first we get an ultimatum, then a warning shot, then a galactic standard week to respond.

Jay:
A galactic standard week? How the hell long is that?

Kay:
One hour.

Jay:
One hour... then what?

Jay:
Oh, now that's bullshit.

Edwards:
Freeze means stop.

Jay:
There's only one way off this planet and that's through me.

Jay:
Did you ever flashy-thing me?

Kay:
No.

Jay:
I ain't playing, K. Did you ever flashy-thing me?

Kay:
No.

Dr. Weaver:
I hate the living.

Elle:
Hey, Jay! Zed called. The high consulate from Solaxiant 9 wants floor seats for the next Bulls game.

Jay:
Alright, let's put in a call to Dennis Rodman. He's from that planet.

Elle:
Rodman? You're kidding.

Jay:
Nope.

Elle:
Not much of a disguise.

Jay:
You know the difference between you and me? I make this look good.

Kay:
Put up your arms and all your flippers.

Kay:
These are our two Centaurian communications board operators, Woiebgck and Bob.

Beatrice:
You here to make fun of me too?

Kay:
No, ma'am. We at the FBI do not have a sense of humor we're aware of. May we come in?

Beatrice:
Sure.

Kay:
1500 years ago, everybody "knew" that the earth was the center of the universe. 500 years ago, everybody "knew" that the earth was flat. And 15 minutes ago, you "knew" that humans were alone on this planet. Imagine what you'll "know" tomorrow.

Jay:
It just be raining black people in New York.

Kay:
Not bad for your second day of work, is it?

Jay:
This definitely rates about a 9.0 on my weird-sh*t-o-meter.

Kay:
You should've been here for the Zeronian migration in 1968.

James Edwards:
NYPD means I will Nock Yo Punkass Down.

Edgar:
You're coming with me. It's a long trip. I'll need a snack.

Jay:
You do know Elvis is dead, right?

Kay:
No, Elvis is not dead. He just went home.

Kay:
You sold a reverberating carbonizer with mutate capacity to an unlicensed cephalopoid, Jeebs, you piece of sh*t.

Jeebs:
He looked all right to me.

Kay:
I've just been down the gullet of an interstellar cockroach. That's one of a hundred memories I don't want.

Kay:
Imagine a giant cockroach, with unlimited strength, a massive inferiority complex, and a real short temper, is tear-assing around Manhattan Island in a brand-new Edgar suit. That sound like fun?

Jay:
Unlimited technology from the whole universe, and we cruise 'round in a Ford P.O.S.

Kay:
See ya around, Jay.

Jay:
No, you won't.

Kay:
Did he say anything to you?

James Edwards:
Yeah, that the world is coming to an end.

Kay:
Did he say when?

Zed:
May I ask why you felt little Tiffany deserved to die?

James Edwards:
Well, she was the only one that actually seemed dangerous at the time, sir.

Zed:
How'd you come to that conclusion?

James Edwards:
Well, first I was gonna pop this guy hanging from the street light, and I realized, y'know, he's just working out. I mean, how would I feel if somebody come runnin' in the gym and bust me in my ass while I'm on the treadmill? Then I saw this snarling beast guy, and I noticed he had a tissue in his hand, and I'm realizing, y'know, he's not snarling, he's sneezing. Y'know, ain't no real threat there. Then I saw little Tiffany. I'm thinking, y'know, eight-year-old white girl, middle of the ghetto, bunch of monsters, this time of night with quantum physics books? She about to start some sh*t, Zed. She's about eight years old, those books are WAY too advanced for her. If you ask me, I'd say she's up to something. And to be honest, I'd appreciate it if you eased up off my back about it.

James Edwards:
Or do I owe her an apology?

Kay:
This caused the 1977 New York blackout. A practical joke by the great attractor. He thought it was funny as hell.

Kay:
This is a Universal Translator, we're not even supposed to have it and I'll tell you why. Human thought is so primitive it's looked upon as an infectious disease throughout the greater galaxy.

Kay:
We do not discharge our weapons in view of the public!

Jay:
We don't got time for this cover-up bullshit. Look, I don't know if you forgot, but there's an Arquillian Battle...

Kay:
There's always an Arquillian Battle Cruiser, or a Korilian Death Ray, or an intergalactic plague that is about to wipe out all life on this miserable planet. The only way these people can get on with their happy lives is that they "do not know about it!"

Jeebs:
You insensitive jerk. Do you have any idea how much that stings?

Edgar:
You idiots! You don't get it - I've won! It's over, you milksuckers. It don't matter; in fact, in just a few seconds you won't even be matter!

Jay:
You know what they say. It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Kay:
Try it.

Jay:
Alright, I'm in. 'Cause there's some next level sh*t going on and I'm OK with that. But before y'all go beaming me up there's one thing you gotta remember: you chose me so you recognized the skills, so I don't want you to call me sport, kid, or anything like that. You got me?

Kay:
Okay, slick. But let me tell you something about all your skills. As of right now, they mean precisely... dick.

Zed:
Edwards. Let's put it on.

Edwards:
Put what on?

Zed:
The last suit you'll ever wear.

Kay:
Don't "Sir" me young man, you have no idea who you're dealing with.

Edgar/Bug:
Y'know, I've noticed an infestation here. Everywhere I look, in fact. Nothing but undeveloped, unevolved, barely conscience pond scum, totally convinced of their own superiority as they scurry about in short pointless lives.

Zap-Em Man:
Well, yea... uh... don'chou want to get rid of 'em?

Edgar/Bug:
Ah... you have no idea.

Jay:
Now that's the worst disguise ever. That guy's gotta be an alien.

Frank the Pug:
You don't like it, you can kiss my furry little butt.

Kay:
I don't suppose you know what kind of alien life form leaves a green spectral trail and craves sugar water, do you?

Jay:
Aw, wait. That was on Final Jeopardy last night. D! Alex said... [trails off]

Kay:
Zed, we have a bug.

Dr. Weaver:
You don't want to eat me. I'm a very important person on my planet. Like a queen, a godess even. There are those who worship me. I'm not saying this to impress you, I'm just warning you it could start a war.

Edgar:
War? Good. That means more food for my family. All 78 million of them. That's a lot of mouths to feed, Highness.

Kay:
Keep him on THIS planet.

Jay:
Kay, where are you going?

Kay:
I'm going to get my gun back.

Kay:
Human thought is so primitive it's looked upon as an infectious disease by the rest of the universe. That kind of makes you proud, doesn't it?

Kay:
Congratulations, Reg. It's a... squid.

Perp:
He's coming, he's coming.

Edwards:
Yeah and when he gets here I'll arrest his ass too.

Jay:
You know it's actually kinda...

Jay:
cute.

Jay:
Gonna get your gun back?

Kay:
I like this gun.

Edgar:
Get your big butt back in the house!

Beatrice:
Edgar, what on earth was that?

Edgar:
Sugar.

Beatrice:
I've never seen sugar do that.

Dr. Weaver:
Interesting job you guys have.

Nick the Van Driver:
Goddamn bugs!

Edgar:
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. It looks like poison. Don't you take that away! I'm eating that, dammit! It is poison, isn't it? 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. You're useless, Beatrice. The only thing that pulls its weight around here is my goddamn truck!

[An alien spaceship crashes into Edgar's truck. Opening the door, shotgun in hand, Edgar surveys the wreckage while his wife watches.]

Edgar:
Figures.

Beatrice:
What the heck is it, Edgar?

Edgar:
Get your big butt back in the house! [He walks to the crater]

Bug:
[unseen] Place projectile weapon on the ground.

Edgar:
You can have my gun... [He c*cks it] when you pry it from my cold dead fingers.

Bug:
Your proposal is acceptable.

[The Bug seizes Edgar and pulls him down into the pit.]

[The Bug enters Edgar's house, wearing Edgar's skin as a disguise.]

Beatrice:
Edgar, what on earth was that?

Edgar/Bug:
Sugar.

Beatrice:
I've never seen sugar do that.

Edgar/Bug:
Give me sugar.

[Beatrice holds up the sugar bowl from the kitchen table.]

Edgar/Bug:
In water.

[She puts a teaspoon of sugar into a glass of water and holds it up.]

Edgar/Bug:
More.

[Confused, Beatrice adds some more sugar to the glass.]

Edgar/Bug:
More.

[She empties all the sugar into the glass and gives it to Edgar/Bug, who noisily guzzles it.]

Beatrice:
Edgar, your skin is hanging off your bones.

Edgar/Bug:
[looks at his reflection] Oh, yeah. [He grabs his scalp and stretches it back against his skull.] There. Is that better?

[Beatrice faints.]

[K and James are walking down a corridor at MIB headquarters. K hands James a file.]

Agent K:
Back in the mid-1950s the government started a little, underfunded agency with the simple and laughable purpose of establishing contact with a race not of this planet. ... Everybody thought the agency was a joke, except the aliens who made contact March 2, 1961, outside New York. There were nine of us the first night: seven agents, one astronomer, and one dumb kid who got lost on the wrong back road.

James:
[He notices a picture of agents giving an alien flowers] Aww, you brought that tall man some flowers.

[K points]

Agent K:
This way. They were a group of intergalactic refugees. Wanted to the use the earth as an apolitical zone for ... creatures without a planet. Did you ever seen the movie Casablanca?

[James nods]

Agent K:
Same thing, 'cept no Nazis.

James:
Oh.

Agent K:
We agreed, and we concealed all the evidence of their landing.

[James looks at a picture]

James:
Uh-huh, so these are real flying saucers, and the World's Fair was just a cover-up for their landing.

Agent K:
Why else would we hold it in Queens? More non-humans arrive every year and they live among us in secret.

James:
Uh, look, I'm sorry, not to change the subject or anything, but when was the last time you had a CAT scan?

Agent K:
'Bout six months ago, it's company policy.

James:
Right, you should make another appointment. Um, look, tell your boy Zed I had an absolutely wonderful time, and thank you for everything, but... [He hands the file back] ...why don't you show me the door?

Agent K:
All right, kid, here's the deal. At any given time there are around fifteen hundred aliens on the planet, most of them right here in Manhattan. And most of them are decent enough, they're just trying to make a living.

James:
Cab drivers.

Agent K:
No, not as many as you'd think. Humans, for the most part, don't have a clue. They don't want one or need one, either. They're happy. They think they have a good bead on things.

James:
Why the big secret? People are smart. They can handle it.

Agent K:
A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals and you know it. Fifteen hundred years ago, everybody knew the Earth was the center of the universe. Five hundred years ago, everybody knew the Earth was flat. And fifteen minutes ago, you knew that people were alone on this planet. Imagine what you'll know tomorrow.

James:
What's the catch?

Agent K:
The catch? The catch is you will sever every human contact. Nobody will ever know you exist anywhere...Ever. I'll give you 'til sunrise to think it over. [walks away]

James:
Hey! Is it worth it?

Agent K:
Oh yeah, it's worth it. [pause] If you're strong enough.

[A police officer pushes a stretcher with Rosenberg's corpse and a cat on top.]

Police Officer:
Where do you want contestant number three?

Dr. Laurel Weaver:
Just leave it there.

[Laurel walks over.]

Dr. Laurel Weaver:
What's with the cat?

Police Officer:
Uh, the cat. Yeah, well, there's a problem with the cat. [He hands her a clipboard] Sign here.

Dr. Laurel Weaver:
What's the problem with the cat?

Police Officer:
It's your problem. Heh, heh. [He leaves]

Dr. Laurel Weaver:
[to herself] I hate the living.

Agent J:
Dr., uh... Whatever, come here.

Dr. Laurel Weaver:
Dr. Whatever? Hey, you guys aren't really from the Department of Health, are you?

Agent K:
Rosenberg. Aw, damn. The Arquillians are not gonna like this. This guy was one of the royal family.

Dr. Laurel Weaver:
I knew it. This is an alien, and you guys are from some government agency trying to keep it under wraps.

Dr. Laurel Weaver:
[still disoriented from being neuralyzed] Hey, whoever you guys are, you're gonna have to show me some ID if you're gonna be in the morgue.

Agent K:
Oh, yes, of course, young lady. Have a look at this for me, please. [neuralyzes her again]

Agent J:
Would you stop that?!

Agent K:
What?!

Agent J:
That thing is gonna give her brain cancer or something!

Agent K:
Never hurt her before. Look, we've gotta get all the doors closed around here. Special Services'll be here any minute.

Agent J:
"Never hurt her before"? How many times have you flashy-thinged that poor woman?!

Agent K:
Couple.

Agent J:
So, what, are you not worried about no long-term damage?

Agent K:
A little.

Agent J:
K, have you ever flashy-thinged me?

Agent K:
No.

Agent J:
I ain't playing with you, K, have you ever flashy-thinged me?!

Agent K:
No.

Agent K:
Zed, we're running out of time here, if that bug gets off the planet with that galaxy, we're all bug food.

Agent J:
Hey, old guys! [He points to a mural of the Flushing Meadows-Corona Park observation towers, previously explained as having been built from spaceships] Do those still work?

Agent K:
[to MIB Special Services] Alright, we got two dead aliens and a deputy medical examiner who needs a new memory.

One of the agents:
Yes, sir.

Agent K:
[off J's look] Make it a happy memory.

[As K and J arrive at the morgue to get Orion]

Agent J:
Look, K, why don't you let me handle this one?

Agent K:
What?

Agent J:
Come on, man, all we gotta do is go in here and get a cat, it's not really that hard. But if you go in there, you're gonna lay your Jack Webb on her, start flashing your brain ray all her face, she's gonna wind up with leukemia and some sh*t. The woman's a doctor, she don't need you flashing away half her med school classes. Five minutes.

Agent K:
Two minutes.

[J goes in and K waits outside.]

[Facing off with the Bug in the morgue, as he holds Laurel at gunpoint]

Agent K:
Freeze it, Bug!

Agent J:
Don't shoot! Don't shoot!

Dr. Laurel Weaver:
Christ, you are thick!

Agent J:
Look, how was I supposed to know?!

Dr. Laurel Weaver:
What did I have to do, sing it for you?!

Agent J:
Well, if you weren't coming on like some drunken prom date...!

Dr. Laurel Weaver:
Oh, God, that is so typical! Any woman who shows yet the slightest hint of sexual independence...!

Edgar/Bug:
Oh, everybody shut up!

Agent K:
Let her go, shiteater.

Edgar/Bug:
Now listen, monkey-boy! Compared to you humans, I'm on the top rung of the evolutionary ladder! So can it, all right?!

Agent K:
You're breaking my heart. Show me your face and I'll cure all your ills.

Edgar/Bug:
You ever pulled the wings off a fly? Do you care to see the fly get even?!

Agent K:
How far do you think you're gonna get without your ship, if that's what you call that piece of space trash we've got locked up in the office?

Edgar/Bug:
Put your weapons down!

Agent K:
Never gonna happen, insect.

Agent J:
It's okay, Laurel.

Dr. Laurel Weaver:
How is it okay?

Agent J:
I'm saying it's gonna be okay.

Edgar/Bug:
Don't bet on it, meatsack!

Agent J:
[after stepping on a cockroach, causing the Bug to freeze as he is climbing to the remaining ship] Uh-oh. I'm sorry. Was that your auntie? [the Bug turns toward J with a furious snarl] Oh. Then that must mean that-that's your uncle, then, huh? [points at another cockroach at his feet before squashing it] You know, you all look alike. [Enraged, the Bug descends to the ground and approaches him] Well, well. Big bad bug got a bit of a soft spot, huh? [squishes another cockroach; the Bug snarls in anger] See, what I can't understand is why you gotta come down bringing all this ruckus! Snatching up galaxies and everything. [Laurel watches as the Bug moves closer to Agent J] My attitude is don't start nothing, won't be nothing! [crushes two more cockroaches as the Bug walks right up to him, seething with anger] You need to ease up out of my face before something bad happens to you. [K loads his gun within the Bug's stomach] Too late.

[K shoots, blowing the Bug in half and freeing himself. J picks up the galaxy. K calls headquarters.]

Agent K:
Zed, call the Arquillians, tell them we have the galaxy.

Zed:
You got it, friend.

[K hangs up.]

Agent J:
Gonna get your gun back, huh?

Agent K:
I like this gun.

Agent J:
Yeah, well, while you were in there playing around, I was down here doing all the work.

[After K's retirement, Dr. Weaver has joined MIB as J's new partner, Agent L]

Agent L:
Hey, J! Zed called. The High Councilor from Solaxian 9 wants floor seats for the Knicks–Bulls game.

Agent J:
All right, let's put in a call to Dennis Rodman. He's from that planet.

Agent L:
Rodman? You're kidding.

Agent J:
Nope.

Agent L:
Not much of a disguise.

Agent K:
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.]

Agent K:
No hablas ni una palabra del español, verdad, amigo? (You don't speak a word of Spanish, do you, friend?)

[Again, the Guy smiles and nods. Kay looks back at Dee.]

Agent K:
We got a winner. [to the others] Los restos estan libres a irse. Lárgense! (The rest of you are free to go. Scram!)

Inspector:
Why is it that no other officers saw either of these events?

James:
Some other officers are soggy around the midsection.

Sergeant:
Hey, Edwards, if you were half the man I am --

James:
What do you mean? I am half the man you are.

[the training session for the potential recruits has ended]

Zed:
Edwards, what happened?

James:
Hesitated.

[Beatrice is looking at J with a blank stare]

[A police officer pushes a stretcher with Rosenberg's corpse and a cat on top.]

Police Officer:
Where do you want contestant number three?

Dr. Laurel Weaver:
Just leave it there.

Dr. Laurel Weaver:
Look at this.

Agent J:
What the hell was that?

[J touches Rosenberg’s ear and it unlocks the head showing a small control room containing alien Rosenberg. He is struggling to speak.]

[Takes Laurel and jumps out the window onto the street]

[throws Laurel in a nearby tree and continues up the ladder into the ship]

James Darrell Edwards / Agent J:
You see this?! Huh?! NYPD! Means I will knock your punk-ass down!

James Darrell Edwards / Agent J:
You trying to catch a beat-down, huh?!

Dr. Laurel Weaver:
[examining Rosenberg's corpse] Oh, my God! [laughs] Whoa, buddy, what are you?

Jack Jeebs:
[after being yelled at by K for selling a reverberating carbonizer with mutate capacity to an unlicensed cephalopoid] He looked alright to me!

Zed:
Containment may be a moot point, old friend. The exodus continues. It's like the party's over and the last one to leave gets stuck with the check.

Zed:
[Yelling at the worms as they desert their posts] YOU SORRY LITTLE INGRATES!