Scene: Underground in Area 51. The Alien Invasion has been repulsed, mankind is victorious. Civilization is in ruins, but mankind survives in sufficient numbers for civilization to continue. Pres. Whitmore, General Grey are walking past large underground holding pens where a number of aliens have been captured and corralled. They are milling like cattle, it looks like an alien scene from District 13. They are stranded, isolated and miles from home with no way back.
President Whitmore: “Bill, this is not a crèche for displaced aliens, we cannot live alongside these creatures – I have seen their mind. Why are we rounding them up and actually bringing them into the center of what is now effectively the Executive Office of US Government?”
They walk into a large conference room that used to be the command center. Communications have been partially restored; the large monitors that previously vectored our forces into combat against the alien menace are taking live feeds from around the world. It’s partially YouTube clips, home video, news broadcasts and military intelligence. The scenes are mayhem. Yahoos in monster trucks are rampaging across open plains with assault rifles, automatic shotguns and bazookas. They are driving surviving aliens before them and indulging their lust for righteous revenge by blasting them wholesale. Other clips show aliens strung up from trees, being dragged behind cars, and stacked up in concentration camp like mounds and being burned. Mankind is jubilant and slaking its bloodlust, the fact that the blood is green means that there is no word of protest – everyone agrees that this is great sport, justifiable and good TV. In increasing numbers, human avengers are seen wielding alien weaponry, blasting ‘green shit’ at everything in sight, smoking alien spaceships, shattered human buildings, fleeing aliens, everything except each other – for now.
Gen. Grey: “Tom, the battle for mankind was yesterday, this” gestures at the video screens “is today. If you want to get out there and mix it up with everyone else, that’s fine, but tomorrow, someone needs to start running things around here, and it may as well be you.”
Pres. Whitmore: “OK, point taken, but I ain’t speaking to those little green bastards no more if that’s what you have in mind – it gives me a headache”
Gen. Grey: “No, not them, there’s some other people I want you to speak to, and they are experts in removing headaches”
Gen. Grey presses an intercom button and says: “Gentlemen, the President would like to see you now”
Into the conference room file a small group of men in discreet but immaculate black suits. They are well groomed and professional. It’s particularly impressive considering the chaotic state all around and the fact that everyone else, including the President is either tieless and in shirtsleeves or in combat fatigues.
They assemble themselves around a conference table and when everyone is seated, Gen. Grey says: “Proceed”
MIB 1: Stands and speaks: “Democracy grows out of the barrel of a gun. Yesterday, the guns we had were useless. It took a redneck flying up the sphincter of a mothership to defeat these people. We got lucky. Since the crash, alien ordnance has been raining down out of the sky. It’s advanced, potent and freely available. All you need do is walk outside and pick it up. That is what is happening. We are at a new dawn in human existence. We are Moon Watcher. There was a measurable period between him smashing a pig’s brain in with a rock and figuring out that he could do this to other humanoids. We are in that period. And We” Gestures to the other black suits around the table “We are the people who have figured out what to do next”.
Pres. Whitmore: “Since you boys are so smart, why are you sharing this information with me?”
MIB 1: “We’re patriots. The big thing with patriotism is where your allegiances lie. Those little green men outside in the cattle pens are all patriots too, but they are on the losing side. Yesterday, we – us, me, YOU”
(points at the president)
“- We, we won. Tomorrow, we – me, us”
motions to the other black suits
”want to keep on winning. YOU”
(points at the president)
“want to stay on the winning side too, don’t you?”
Pres. Whitmore: “I’m still President, I’d like a little respect”
MIB 1: “Fair enough, but you are President by about this much”
Holds fingers about ¼ inch apart
“and looking at the scenes outside, your tenure is, how shall we say, tenuous. You have about this long”
Holds fingers about ¼ inch apart
“before we – me, us, and maybe you, maybe not - are having this conversation with the next Saddam Hussein, Osama Bin Laden or Muammar Kaddafi. We’re a whole lot more respectful than those guys, don’t you think – after all they are just like the nasty green motherfuckers outside, they wanted you dead.”
Pres. Whitmore: “Right you are, my tenure is uncertain, and my sphere of authority is limited. Right now, it’s limited to this room and General Grey is packing. I’ve had a busy couple of days, I want a shower and some sleep. You have about this long”
Holds fingers ¼ inch apart
“to get to the fucking point before I have General Grey round you up and toss you in with those nasty green motherfuckers, how you like them apples?”
Gen. Grey: “Gentlemen, gentlemen, gentlemen – these are difficult times, we’re all fraught, why don’t you just share your thoughts with us”
Grey, acting as the pacifier, walks behind the President where Whitmore cannot see him, but glares pointedly at MIB 1, draws his finger across his throat and stabs it silently at MIB 1. MIB 1 holsters his dick, and a nearly indistinguishable MIB 2 stands up and takes over.
MIB 2: “Right now, everyone is having a real jolly time running around killin’ aliens, but they are in short supply. When the alien turkey shoot stops, you are going to have a lot of hungry, armed and disorganized idiots standing around staring at each other wondering what to do next. That’s just domestically. Right now everyone has their hands full, and it’s happening globally – when the rest of the planet reaches this hiatus, it’s going to take them about this long”
Holds his fingers ¼ inch apart
“to remember who their previous fave targets were, and up until 3 days ago, it was us – you, me, US - America”
MIB 3: “The freely available cache of alien weapons is a problem, people are scared, they ain’t going to give them up, but all we know right now is that they work – we don’t know how they work, how they are powered, how to maintain them, how to manufacture more ammo. Those nasty green motherfuckers do.”
MIB 4: “The NGM population is rapidly diminishing. We know that they can thrive on Earth, that’s why they came here. We know that we can kill them, that’s what we are doing right now. Getting knowledge from a dead alien is like getting blood from a stone. We don’t want them in our living room, they smell bad, but we have centuries of experience of locking people away in impregnable fortresses and torturing them until they give us what we want, and killing them when they don’t – actually, killing them when they do too. We’ve always been a little squeamish about this because people get all exercised about human rights etc. Well, these NGM ain’t human, and I don’t see no support groups springing up anytime real soon. Noxious as these NGM are, they are the goose that laid the golden egg right now.”
MIB 3: “It’s not just weapons, they have advanced transportation and interstellar drive systems, force fields, spacecraft and detailed knowledge of what it takes to live and travel in space. They also know where they came from, and what else is out there that can support life forms that have biological needs just like us.”
MIB 2: “More than just a source of advanced knowledge, they represent a work force. Since they are so interested in earth, we can get them out in gangs burying the dead and generally cleaning up all the chaos they have caused. We have a lot of experience at handling slaves”
President Whitmore: “These are all valid viewpoints, good considerations. How would something like this work?”
MIB 1: Seeing that the President is warming to the idea, and pressing his point in a more placatory way: “You, sir, have momentum. You are the titular leader of the nation, a warrior king that fought with his people and led the nation, nay, the WORLD to victory over the NGM menace. You have the communications channels, you have all the remaining conventional military equipment at your disposal, and you have a populace that need food, shelter and leadership. They are not going to stop the killing until there’s no more NGM to kill, they will not be sympathetic to our cause of rounding up survivors and keeping them at Gitmo. While they are distracted they don’t need much, but they are killing all the NGM, gathering up anything that shoots green shit, and blasting everything else. When the fun stops, they are going to need help. They don’t realize it yet, but YOU do. We need to mobilize the military, get them out among the populace and handing out MRE’s, building shelters, and telling them that YOU are making all this happen. The weapons we have right now are obsolete, and the military has loads of them. Break out supplies and put them in the hands of the people. When the alien stuff stops shooting, they ain’t going to know what to do. Everyone in America knows how to use an assault rifle. Start an exchange program, 10 assault weapons for each alien shooter, working or not. Under the auspices of public works, begin the clean up immediately, but have the military lead it, and focus on gleaning every last piece of alien technology and bringing it back to us before the population at large blows it all to kingdom come. Make no attempts to stop people killing the NGM, it keeps them happy and occupied, but let the military know that they are to round up and NOT kill any survivors, and to put word out that there are places surviving NGM can go to stay alive. By doing this you A – concentrate alien technology and personnel in our hands, and B take care of the human needs to keep killing foremost, and find food and shelter after that. Promote the second point publicly through the media, and don’t say anything about the first point.”
President Whitmore (turning to Gen Grey): “You know, Bill, I like it – I like it in principle at least, start ridding the countryside of reminders of the alien menace, and feeding and sheltering our fragmented and disorganized populace. I think we should get started, the people need leadership in these uncertain times.”
MIB 1: “With your permission, sir”
President Whitmore: “Yes?”
MIB 2: “We already have the mobilization orders for the armed forces, they are awaiting your command. They are sitting on their hands right now, wondering what we are going to do next, and champing at the bit to get out their and ‘whup ET’s ass'. They are disciplined, they ain’t going to get out there right away and start blasting, but it’s just a matter of time, We need to get them active, give them orders to follow. We need to share parts of the plan, not everything mind you, with the military leadership – there’s logistics, mobilization, a whole lot that needs doing. It will give our boys something to do, orders to follow, but it’s going to take time. Immediately, you need to start addressing the Nation – leadership in wartime type stuff – reassure the people. Let them know that you share their suffering – you lost your wife, that type of stuff – let them know that you are in control, let them know that you are going to be taking care of their needs – food, shelter, leadership. Let them know to expect the military, and prepare them for what will be going on – clean up of toxic alien artifacts, allude to the fact that that green shit is leaking out everywhere and fucking up the planet, and you are just doing biohazard remediation, looking out for them, that type of thing. Focus on the food and shelter and reinforce the message that you are looking out for them. We have your speech right here, Sir”
Hands over a sheaf of papers. President Whitmore takes them and starts scanning quickly.
President Whitmore: “Nice, nice – good rhetoric, simple short sentences, Pathos, Ethos, Logos – this is good stuff, good stuff. I think we should get this out as soon as possible, but I’m confused, If this alien technology is toxic and causing all sort of environmental problems, why would we want to start gathering it up, that sounds kinda dumb to me”
MIB 2: “It’s not toxic, at least as not as far as we know, but they don’t know that, do they? If I may say so, you should not appear before your people in a sweat stained shirt with rolled up sleeves, we have something for you that is a little more appropriate.”
MIB 3 comes forward with a black suit hanging on a coat hanger that looks just like the suits they are wearing. President Whitmore strips off his shirt and uses it to wipe himself down and starts putting on his new MIB gear.
President Whitmore: “Now, this is an excellent start domestically, we are dealing with a sympathetic audience – they expect action, and we are talking directly to their immediate needs. What about internationally? I’m sure we’re not the only people having these discussions, and not everyone is as sympathetically disposed.”
MIB 1: “Excellent point sir. You say not everyone is favorably disposed, but some are, and talking of now obsolete conventional human weaponry, we’ve done a mighty fine job of keeping it out of the hands of those that we don’t like, and those that don’t like us. It’s not going to be long before they get to the point where they can mobilize a new military equipped with green shit firing spaceships, so, may I ask you a question?”
President Whitmore shrugging the shoulders in his new black suit and shooting his cuffs: “Sure, go ahead”
MIB 1: “Do you still have the football?”
President Whitmore: “Sure do, General Grey has it with him right now, definitely don’t want that falling into the wrong hands do we?”
MIB 1: “Absolutely not – still works, yeah?”
President Whitmore: “Far as I know, we’ve never really had the opportunity to try it out.”
MIB 1: “Ahhhh, why don’t you take a look at this?” slides a sheet of paper across the desk.
President Whitmore: “What’s this?”
MIB 1: “Targets and launch codes – this shit is all going to be obsolete anyway, might as well get some use out of it.”
President Whitmore: “Are you fucking kidding, start a nuclear war, after all the shite we just went through, you guys are fucking nuts!”
Gen. Grey: “Not exactly sir. What our friends have been saying is even in the face of racial extinction that binds us in a common cause, there is still an element of humanity that just hates America. We’ve been dealing with these scumbags forever, and had to put up with their shit because they float on a sea of oil. We don’t need that oil anymore – we have Green Power. Right now they just represent a bunch of malcontents. Pretty soon they will be malcontents with their own Green Power, and America is a damn sight more appealing place to live than where they are – all them mountains and rocks and sand and shit. It’s just a question of time, so this is like getting your retaliation in first. The great thing is that international communications and relationships are shattered; nobody has a real clear picture of what is going on. We could nuke these fuckers before anyone knew what was happening, and when the shit starts flying we can tell everyone it was the NGM toxins leaking out of weapons and spaceships that was responsible. Those on the receiving end ain’t gonna be in a position to argue, and we tell everyone else that the reason it didn’t happen to us is that we had the foresight to clean this shit up before it did – a win – win, don’t you think”
President Whitmore: Thoughtfully “Good thinking, good thinking" He turns and looks at the MIB "Now who exactly do you guys represent?
MIB in chorus: “We represent the United States of America, Sir!”
