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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?
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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"YOU," he thunders, startling Agent B into dropping his coffee. The Annelids scatter to avoid getting splashed. They flip Duo off cheerfully and hurl insults in their native language.
He ignores all and sundry, stalking up to Zed and glaring down at him. He doesn't look very intimidating with grime smeared on his face and on the borrowed MiB jumpsuit, but he tries very hard.
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"Maxwell," he replies, now the soul of serenity.
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Did we mention the Finger of Accusation?
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"What'd I do again? I forget."
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"Goddammit, have you been gassing yourself with hyperjet coolant again? I told R three times the landing-bay ventilators need an upgrade."
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Agent B almost drops his new cup of coffee. A cautious audience is starting to gather.
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"Oh, look," he gestures over Duo's shoulder. "They've got donuts."
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"No!!! Admit your guilt!"
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Explains a lot, really.
"Or there's the Centauri pączki. It's got this drakaroot frosting. With sprinkles."
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"You're a big liar."
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"Maxwell. Hello? Men. In. Black."
"Which lie are we talking about here?"
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"Did not."
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*smirk*
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"...okay, that's just mean."
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Oh wait... yes, she is.
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Zed had better watch his back!
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"Because you wouldn't have zapped everything, and as much as you hate repeating yourself, you also like mocking me."
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"Look. Maxwell. You have never been neuralyzed. Word of honor."
"There. Now you've got the same vow we give everyone after they've been wipe--. I mean, when their memories have been left completely intact."
Zed. Sometimes the man just can't help himself.
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But not without some of the pączki.
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She's not masking her delight any longer. A big grin is plastered over her face now.
"Way to go, Zee," she lauds.
"I think he's totally buying it."
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"Who the hell else was it going to be?"
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"So what is this, 'Locks? Revenge for a past slight, or just a random drive-by to kill some time?"
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"Looking good, R," she says, finger-gunning the young guy in question and winking at him. The Agent tweaks the lapels of his suit jacket in response, and sends her back a composed wink of his own.
"Sorry, what was that?" she queries, refocusing on Zed. "Oh right. I'm just messing with him. He's a good guy. He can take it."
"Thanks for playing along. That was masterfully done."
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And, after all, it's not like Duo could ever get back at him.
....Is it?