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
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Duo slams through the double doors and points an accusatory finger at Zed from across the room.
"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.
He does a little dance of rage. "Do you think I care what you tell your diplomats? I embody 'not from around here'! WHAT ELSE WOULD I BE MAD ABOUT? YOU DID IT."
"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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