Men in Black Page #18

JAY:

What do we do?

KAY:

With a bug in town? Watch the morgues.

CUT TO:

EXT. LESHKO'S DINER - DAY

ROSENBERG, the jewelry store owner, steps out of a cab in

the meat-packing district, still carrying the ornate box and

his beloved cat. He heads into Leshko's, a Russian diner.

A moment later, the Orkin van pulls to a stop across the

street.

INT. LESHKO'S DINER - DAY

ROSENBERG comes into the tiny restaurant, squinting in the

relative darkness. At a table in the middle, he sees a man

eating alone -- an enormous, dignified, yet profoundly strange-

looking man in his mid fifties.

Rosenberg walks carefully over to the table, but does not

sit down. The man (an ARQUILLIAN, and if we're eagle-eyed,

we recognize him as the alien on a "diplomatic mission" from

passport control) rises from his chair. He steps forward, to

face Rosenberg, who sets the ornate box on the table.

Immediately, ROSENBERG'S CAT jumps on top of it.

Rosenberg and the Arquillian stare at each other for a long

moment --

-- and then embrace each other. The embrace has an odd, formal

quality to it, like mafiosi coming to a sitdown. They hold

on, long and hard, and both seemed choked with emotion.

Finally, they break apart and take their seats. They speak

in a bizarre alien tongue, which is subtitled. Rosenberg

wipes away tears.

ROSENBERG:

Sorry I'm late. The cab drivers on

this planet are terrible.

ARQUILLIAN:

Your majesty, you are in grave danger.

ROSENBERG:

Yeah, and they overcharge you every

time.

ARQUILLIAN:

Sir, a bug landed here. We must get

you off the planet.

ROSENBERG:

A bug? He must know why I'm here.

ARQUILLIAN:

We think he does.

(noticing the ornate

box on the table)

Is that what I think it is?

ROSENBERG:

No, just some diamonds for your

children. Do we have time to eat?

The Arquillian relaxes.

ARQUILLIAN:

Sure. I ordered you some pirogi.

INT. LESHKO'S DINER - KITCHEN - DAY

In the kitchen, the Russian COOK slaps two orders of pirogi

up on the stainless steel counter --

COOK:

Table six is up!

-- and turns away, back to the grill.

A HAND reaches in, takes the plates, and sets them on a tray.

We follow the tray, but see only the right arm and aproned

midsection of the waiter carrying it. He carries the tray

along the counter toward a pair of swinging doors that lead

out into the restaurant.

The doors swing in as another WAITER sweeps into the kitchen,

and our waiter heads out into the dining area. As the doors

swing closed behind him, they reveal storage shelves crammed

with bags of rice, cans of stewed tomatoes --

-- and a DEAD WAITER, literally folded in half and stuffed

in among the shelves.

INT. LESHKO'S DINER - DAY

ROSENBERG and the ARQUILLIAN raise their glasses in a toast.

ARQUILLIAN:

To the continued reign of the

Arquillian Empire.

ROSENBERG:

To the safety of the galaxy.

They CLINK glasses and drink, just as the Waiter arrives.

Still, we see only his arms and midsection as he sets the

tray on a stand and lifts the plates of pirogi. He carries

them to the table and sets them down.

Rosenberg, setting his glass down next to the plate, catches

a glimpse of the Waiter's hand --

-- just as an enormous silverfish bug slithers out of the

waiter's sleeve and scurries across the table. The glass

slips out of Rosenberg's hand, dumping wine all over the

table.

He looks up, slowly, and sees the Waiter's face.

It's EDGAR. Another half dozen insects of all variety tumble

out of Edgar's sleeves and scurry across the table. Rosenberg

and the Arquillian freeze, paralyzed with fear. They seem to

know what dire implications Edgar's presence holds.

ROSENBERG:

(in English again)

You can kill us both -- but you will

not find it.

Edgar smiles.

EDGAR:

You're right about one thing.

Suddenly a long STINGER whips out from under the back of

Edgar's apron and zips under the table. First Rosenberg and

then the Arquillian lurch forward their chairs, their faces

contorting in pain.

They both pitch forward, their faces slogging into fresh

pirogi.

The stinger SNAPS out from under the table and whips back

under Edgar's apron. He moves quickly, searching their

pockets, but he doesn't find what he's looking for. The cat,

still perched on top of the ornate box, HISSES at him.

Edgar reaches out and BATS the cat away with one vicious

swipe of his hand. The animal HOWLS and flies across the

room, landing in a WOMAN's lunch.

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