S1E15 - The Men in Black

DBC EPISODE 9: 

MEN IN BLACK

FLORIDA MAN: Howdy folks, and welcome to Dashboard Chats!

CHEESEHEAD: We are recording these segments from our dashboard on the drive between our main interviews to discuss the tales and urban legends that aren’t quite fit for the mic.

FM: I mean, to clarify, they are fit for the mic in the way that we’re using a mic to record this, but we mean that we’re discussion’ topics we can’t really interview. Know what I’m sayin’?

CH: Today we come to you from Old Fort Bayou, Mississippi, traveling North on Washington Ave back towards I-10 West. At least we were on Washington…

FM: Yea, roadblocks keep popping up all over our GPS so now we’re on the backroads trying to find a work-around.

CH: Cripes sake.

FM: What?

CH: A black Cadillac just cut us off. And there’s a light on the dash.

FM: Reckon they’re legit?

CH: I don’t reckon anything is legit in Mississippi.

FM: Apparently Barq’s root beer was invented here, too, before Cocacola came ‘long and snatched it.

CH: Barq’s root beer is legit.

FM: And Elvis was born here.

CH: True. Fine man he turned out to be.

FM: Know who else is from Mississippi?

CH: Calvin Candie from Django Unchained.

FM: Yikes. I was going gonna say Kermit the Frog.

CH: It’s not easy being Green. Must not be easy being blue either because those cops coming out the vehicle look mighty stern. 

FM: Looks like their no workin’round this one. These guys ain’t look like no highway patrol I ever seen. Why are they wearin’ black suits when it’s 95 degrees and humid as all get out? Plus, it’s overcast. Why the dark shades?

CH: Better question yet, what do they want with us?

FM: Beats me. Prolly outta just pull up, flash our IDs and, and get this over with. 

CH: Good call--oh.

[window knock]

CH: Sorry, Miss, the windows are manual. Be down right quick.

[roll down window]

CH: Top of the morning to yah, Miss. Or shouls I say, Miss-issippi?

MIB: License and registration, please.

CH: Might I ask why you stopped us--

MIB: License and registration.

CH: Ah...okie doke. Here ya go. That’s me right der!

MIB: Wisconsin.

CH: You betcha.

RADIO: Copy that.

CH: Oh, thought you were talking to me.

MIB: I will need to see your passenger’s ID as well.

FM: My ID? Ain’t the driver though.

MIB I am aware. License and registration, please.

FM: Fine, damn. Here it is.

MIB: Florida.

FM: Born ‘n raised, that a problem?

RADIO: Copy.

MIB: You tell me. 

FM: K. Easy enough. No, ain’t a problem. Matter fact, how ‘bout you show us your ID?

MIB: I beg your pardon?

CH: Yah, how do we know you even work for the police? I’ve never seen an undercover cop in a Caddy before.

MIB: I work for an organization that supersedes the police. 

CH: Where’s the proof? How do we know you’re not some serial killer pulling over your next potential victims?

FM: Yea, maybe we should just call the real police to make sure this is legit.

MIB: Here. My badge. 

CH: Federal Bureau of Investigation, it says.

FM: What branch?

CH: Says it’s the Branch of Tellurian Anatomies. 

MIB: Okay, you’ve seen enough.

FM: So are Caddy’s standard issue for FBI or just got a taste for luxury?

MIB: I will take no further questions from you.

FM: Okay. We clear to go now?

MIB: There was an… incident last night over Pascagoula River.

CH: Why, whatever do you mean?

MIB: Strange lights. Strange sounds. Strange people.

FM: Welp, you’re in Mississippi, so you’re gonna have to be more specific,haha. I can tell ya though, [burp] ain’t nothin’ strange ‘bout us!

MIB: What business has a Wisconsinite and Floridian crossing the Pascagoula River, if you don’t mind me asking?

CH: Ah, we’re on a roadtrip across America to uncover the--

FM: Ahem!

CH: To uncover the mundane, the tiresome, the boring, and the humdrum, one Interview at a time. Pascasula is chock full of the humdrum, doncha know.

MIB: There were reports of a different sort of “hum” coming from the sky and from the river. You boys wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?

FM: Nope.

MIB: You answered that rather quickly. Mind if I look around the vehicle?

FM: Uh, go for it. Ain’t much more than a rust-bucket on wheels, though.

[Footsteps]

FM: [whisper] Cheesehead, I think she’s MIB!

CH: Oh fuck the FIB!

FM: The fuck even is the FIB?

CH: Fucking Illinois Bastards. Doesn't matter, what were you saying?

FM: She’s MIB! Men in Black!

CH: She’s a lady though.

FM: Wo-men in black. You know what I’m sayin’! She’s prolly huntin’ for the Womannequin from Outer Space that abducted us last night!

CH: How could I forget a beaut like her? She even agreed to a date with me before as her interplanetary work visa expires.

FM: Ain’t gonna be no date is the MIB gnab us!

CH: So what’s the plan then?

FM: Leave it to me.

[approaching footsteps]

MIB: Interesting choice of vehicle for roadtrip.

FM: Oh, s’why we got that AAA.

MIB: I noticed you boys are carrying fishing equipment. Were we doing a little fishing last night?

FM: Uh...nope. 

MIB: The line and bobber has a residue on it to suggest otherwise.

FM: Prolly that mornin’ dew. And I don’t mean the hooch. 

MIB: Hooch. Right. Have you boys been drinking lately? 

CH: I had a couple-two-three beers last night but that’s it.

FM: Yep. It was a party in Room 13, let me tell ya. We’re clean now.

MIB: Room 13. Hm. I spoke with the owner of Jimbo's Bait ‘n Tackle. He said he rented out a fishing boat out to two young men for night fishing on the Pascagoula. Says the boat was purchased until 11am the following day but found it returned within a few hours of it’s check out.

FM: Maybe you outta try the cameras then.

MIB: He had no video surveillance, regrettably, but his description matches your profiles almost to a tee.

FM: Musta been two fine lookin’ folks. Try tracin’ the credit cards?

MIB: Jimbo said they paid in cash. I checked the ATM outside the tackle shop, no withdraws that evening.

FM: Oh, that’s too bad.

MIB: Where were you two last night?

CH: Watching Impractical Jokers and drinkin’ beer in our motel room. We stayed at the Sleep’n Skeet!

FM: It’s The Sleepin’ Skeeter, Cheesehead. Remember the snoozing mosquito on the sign?

CH: Oh geez, what’s what that was? Looked more like a neon poster for District 9. Anyway, Da Sleepin’ Skeeter, like he said. Never saw Spam in a continental breakfast before.

RADIO: Did you locate the suspects?

MIB: [On radio] Descriptions are a match. Say they were staying at the Sleepin’ Skeeter Motel where Spam is apparently part a of the breakfast buffet. 

RADIO: That checks. Log their tag number and proceed to the next vehicle.

FM: Welp, sounds like we’re clear to go, then. Real shame. Felt like we just started gettin’ to know each other. Coulda had a true friendship.

CH: Yeppers, I’ll just roll up the ol’ window and we’ll be our my way then.

MIB: One more thing, before you go.

CH: Ah, g-go for it?

MIB: I need you to take this.

CH: What-a shiny coin? 

FM: What’s it worth?

CH: I dunno, I’ve never seen a coin like this one. It’s silver with blackwash. Has the planet Earth with an eyeball in the middle. What’s all this about, Miss?

MIB: If you ever encounter anything strange or...extraterrestrial, use this coin in the nearest vending machine. Leave the rest to us.

CH: Nothing cryptid about that. Ah, sure thing then. 

MIB: You’re clear to go.

FM: Yea, let’s get the fuck outta here, Cheesehead.

CH: You don’t gotta tell me twice. 

[Speed off]

CH: So the MIB, huh? 

FM: Ain’t a doubt in my mind. Gotta be.

CH: To be frank witcha, the movie franchise is my only real frame of reference for the Men in Black. Is that anything to go on?

FM: The Men in Black movies were adaptations of the 1990 comic book series published by Aircel Comics, which was bought by Malibu Comics, which was absorbed into Marvel Comics, which is now owned by the Walt Disney Company. The original comics were loosely based on real events though. At least real testimonies of events.

CH: I did not know they were comics. 

FM: Yea, in the comics they are planetary defenders. In folklore, they are often described as creatures a good more devious. For instance, back in 1967, man named Robert Richardson found a piece of metal on the site of his own UFO encounter. Shipped the object to a group of enthusiasts and investigators to examine the debris. MIB arrived shortly after to his private residence demanding he get it back if, and I quote, “you want your wife to stay as pretty as she is.”

CH: Well I sure won’t be sleeping tonight. Cripes. That means they must have been casing his house beforehand to know he shipped the object. And to know what his wife even looked like. Uh...what are you doing over there?

FM: Snapped a picture of her license plate as we drove on. Running it through an app real quick. 

CH: A little creepy, but I’m not here to judge.

FM: Only think creepy here is the women in the black suit. 

[Ping]

CH: What’s that?

FM: Exactly what I thought… her license numbers are fake. Don’t register to nothin’. 

CH: Ah geez, you think she’s on to us--

FM: Shhh, shhh… lemme see the coin. 

CH: Sure, here ya go.

[Coin flip sound, rummaging]

CH: Whatcha doin there?

FM: Wrappin it in tinfoil, what else? 

CH: I see that. But why, doh?

FM: Because this thing here ain’t no average coin. Bet my boots it’s a tracking device. Prolly recordin’ us right now.

CH: Seriously?? Maybe we ought to just chuck it out the window.

FM: Maybe.

CH: Maybe?? 

FM: I mean, we’re goin’ after aliens, devils, ghosts, witches… back up might not be an all-in-all bad thing. Or at the very least, a diversion. 

CH: Gotcha. Well wrap that bitch up tight in foil then because our job is creepy enough without supernatural agents spying on us.

FM: We’re back on I-10 now so they should have a harder time following us. Set a course for Columbus. 

CH: Sure thing! Uh, GPS.

GPS: GPS activated. State your desired location.

CH: Nash Road, Columbus, Mississippi. 

GPS: Searching.... Searching… Searchi-[static]. GPS Failed. 

CH: The heck? Look! All of my bars just dropped. And my battery: it’s...it’s draining!

FM: Prolly ain’t the best time to tell you this, Cheesehead, but I think we’re being followed. Bogey two cars back.

CH: I see it. Another black cadillac. It’s like they want us to know they’re following us!

[UFO humming from last episode]

FM: The car just slowed down.

CH: WHOA! [Swerve] All the cars are coasting to a stop! Like something just shut them all down at once. Except our truck, we’re the only ones still able to drive on.

FM: You better weave a good distance between us that Caddy then, while we got the chance.

[Driving quietly]

CH: What the flying fuck just happened.

FM: We were stopped by the MIB after being abducted by aliens the night before. 

CH: Mhmm.

FM: MIB started following us.

CH: Yah. Yah.

FM: Then someone or something cut the engin of every car on the highway down save our own to let us escape. Pretty sure it’s your girl.

CH: The Womannequin? Gosh, really gotta find her a better name. 

FM: How ‘bout Quinn? Sounds appropriate for a space surgeon who’s a mannequin. 

CH: Ah, Dr. Quinn. I like it.

FM: Hey Cheesehead.

CH: Yah, Florida Man?

FM: You owe Dr. Quinn one hell of a date.

CH: Touchee. And I owe myself a new pair of underoos after all we just went through. 

FM: My britches ain’t fair much better. Aight, y’all. For any questions, UFO or MIB stories of your own, just drop us a line at TheTalegatePodcast@gmail.com and follow us out on Instagram @Thetalegatepodcast for photos, cast info, updates, and more.

CH: We’d love to share your encounters on a future episode, so send us what you got!

FM: See yah later, tailgators!