Zed is down in the bowels of MiB HQ, sitting in his usual spot in the bureau's main cafeteria, glowering at a defenseless bagel that had the audacity to be wheat instead of cinnamon-raisin.

Another sign the goddamn universe is going straight to hell.

Bad enough he has to cope with attacks by Black Oil and a Rollerball arena that is threatening to devour even the MiB's nearly limitless budget. Now he's even got to deal with a fresh crop of Agents from that fucking nuthouse Milliways.

What next?
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