Men in Black Page #9

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:

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:

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.

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