Men in Black

Men In Black by Ed Solomon EXT. ROAD -- TEXAS/MEXICO BORDER -- NIGHT A million stars wink in the night desert sky. Down here on earth, an insect, one of those big, beautiful, multicolored four-winged jobs, glides effortlessly on the breeze, wafting along through the crisp Texas air. The insect dips, it banks, it does loop-the-loops -- and then SPLATS unceremoniously against the windshield of a white van that's tearing down the road. INT. VAN -- TEXAS/MEXICO BORDER -- NIGHT The DRIVER of the van, a fifty-year-old American, turns on the wipers, smearing the remains all over. DRIVER Goddamn bugs. He squirts some wiper fluid onto the glass, which clears it up a bit, but now he sees something worse up ahead. It's a grouping of headlights, eight of them, all pointed at him, sealing off the road. He bites his lip and calls over his shoulder, to the back of the van. He speaks in Spanish, which is subtitled. DRIVER (CONT'D) Deja me hablar. (Let me do the talking.) EXT. ROAD -- TEXAS/MEXICO BORDER -- NIGHT The van slows to a stop in front of the parked cars, all government- issue four doors with "INS" stenciled on the sides. Seven or eight INS AGENTS stand in front of the cars imposingly. Their apparent leader steps forward and comes to the window. The DRIVER rolls it down. AGENT JANUS, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, also government issue, looks at him and sighs. AGENT JANUS Well. Nick the Dick. What a surprise. Where you comin' from? DRIVER I was fishing in Cuernavaca.