"You bastard!"
The Chameleon alien snarled, seeing the mocking look on Mike's face. "You asked for this!"
As it spoke, the alien unhinged its jaw, and a long, slender tongue shot out like a javelin.
Aside from their camouflage, the Chameleon aliens' only other real gift was their tongue. Their unique biology made that tongue their deadliest weapon—deceptive and perfect for sucker punches.
"Gross."
Relying on his lightning-fast reflexes, Mike snatched the tongue right out of the air before it could hit him. But the slimy texture made him grimace immediately.
Sensing the slippery muscle about to slide free, Mike, thoroughly grossed out but determined, got serious. He wrapped the tongue around his hand for leverage, flexed his arms, and locked into a tug-of-war.
Snap!
With the sickening sound of tearing muscle, the alien's tongue was stretched to its limit before finally snapping in the middle.
Mike tossed the severed piece aside with a look of pure revulsion and wiped his hand on a nearby chair.
Meanwhile, the alien, stripped of its main weapon, collapsed in a heap, frantically pawing at the stump remaining in its mouth.
It all happened so fast that the two Men in Black hadn't expected the threat to be neutralized so cleanly. By the time they rushed over with weapons drawn, the target was already down for the count.
As they passed, both agents shot Mike a look of genuine surprise before moving in to secure the alien.
"My tongue... my tongue..." the alien moaned, its voice thick and garbled. "I'm going to sue you Earthlings... barbaric treatment of extraterrestrial species... I'm filing a formal complaint..."
"Pipe down," the lead agent said, delivering a few sharp punches to shut it up. Once the alien stopped struggling, he slapped a muzzle-like device over its mouth.
Clearly, the agency came prepared to capture this fugitive. And the Men in Black certainly wasn't a charity organization; they didn't waste time discussing civil rights with criminal aliens. If this Chameleon didn't still have some intel value, it probably would have been reduced to ash by now.
Once the troublemaker was fully secured and hauled off by the junior agent, the lead agent stayed behind for cleanup.
The audience, realizing the danger was over, let out a collective sigh of relief. But having survived the ordeal, they were now bursting with questions.
"Excuse me, which law enforcement agency do you represent? And what exactly was that creature charged with?" asked Colin, who had accepted the existence of aliens surprisingly quickly.
"MIB... but people generally just call us the Men in Black." The agent seemed amenable enough as he explained, "That was a Chameleon. It was planning to incite panic among the civilian population, likely paving the way for a full-scale invasion..."
"A Chameleon..."
"That makes sense. No wonder that monster looked like a steroid-pumped lizard..."
"Are you guys missing the point? Earth is about to be invaded!"
"If we get invaded, what are we supposed to do?"
As the agent explained, the crowd learned a lot of new, terrifying truths. The news of an impending invasion started to spark panic again.
"Everyone, stay calm. The Chameleon population is small. Even if they all came here, the MIB could handle it," the agent said, patiently trying to de-escalate the situation.
The real threats to Earth were the massive insectoid swarms. As for the Chameleons? They were under-evolved and few in number. How could they invade a planet when their only weapon was a tongue? On a real battlefield, a few rounds from a plasma cannon would wipe their entire species out.
With the agent's mini-lecture, the crowd calmed down. Immediately, however, new questions popped up.
"You there, the kid with his hand up. What's your question?" the agent asked.
In the chaotic crowd of adults, nine-year-old Sheldon stood out.
"Yes, sir. I would like to know where your high-tech weaponry is developed?" Sheldon asked politely.
Sheldon had already noted that the plasma weapons the agents carried were lightyears ahead of anything currently on the market. The sleek design alone proved they weren't standard issue.
"You mean this?" The agent hoisted the large weapon in his hand. "This is a portable cannon, officially the 'Tri-Barrel Plasma Cannon.' Developed by the MIB Armaments Division..."
After the explanation, seeing that Sheldon was gearing up for follow-up questions, the agent muttered to himself, "Why am I wasting my breath? You're all going to forget this anyway."
He had only chatted because the mission had gone smoothly, but his patience was wearing thin, and his colleagues were waiting.
Putting an end to the Q&A, the agent pulled a pair of black sunglasses from his pocket and put them on. He then held up a silver, pen-like device—the Neuralyzer—and adjusted the dials. "If everyone could just look right here..."
A bright blue flash illuminated the room. Instantly, the crowd went still, their expressions turning blank and dazed.
"Phew." Seeing them sedated, the agent let out a breath.
He pocketed the Neuralyzer. "Nothing happened here. There were no aliens, and no giant lizards. You all just enjoyed a very exclusive private film screening. Once I leave, you can all head home..."
After implanting the cover story, the agent hurried out of the theater. Moments later, the crowd "booted up" again.
"Hey, that was a pretty good movie," Colin said, seemingly forgetting why he had come there in the first place. Then, he frowned. "Wait, what movie did we just watch, exactly?"
The rest of the crowd was in the same boat. The agent had given them a blanket memory, but the specific details were a blur.
"Mike, what just happened? I feel like there's a gap in my memory," said Sheldon, whose eidetic memory made him acutely sensitive to any inconsistencies.
"Nothing happened. The 'movie' is over. We should go," Mike replied, offering no further explanation.
Aliens weren't something Sheldon needed to be involved with yet. Even Mike wasn't planning on digging too deep into this right now.
"Did I fall asleep? That's highly unlikely..." Sheldon followed Mike out, looking thoroughly vexed.
He had come specifically for an educational film. Now, he knew he had watched it, but he couldn't recall a single frame of the content. For someone with his intellect, this was agonizing.
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