Люди в чёрном: Эдвардс вступает в MiB

What's up, pops?

wəts əp, pɑps?

All right, I'm in 'cause look, there's some next-level shit going on around here, and I'm with that. But before y'all get to beaming me up, there's a couple

ɔl raɪt, əm ɪn 'kɔz lʊk, ðɛrz səm next-level ʃɪt goʊɪŋ ɔn əraʊnd hir, ənd əm wɪθ ðət. bət ˌbiˈfɔr jɔl gɪt tɪ ˈbimɪŋ mi əp, ðɛrz ə ˈkəpəl

things I want you to understand. First off, you chose me, so you recognize the skills. I don't want nobody calling me "son" or "kid" or "sport" or nothing

θɪŋz aɪ wɔnt ju tɪ ˌəndərˈstænd. fərst ɔf, ju ʧoʊz mi, soʊ ju ˈrɛkəgˌnaɪz ðə skɪlz. aɪ doʊnt wɔnt ˈnoʊˌbɑˌdi ˈkɔlɪŋ mi "sən" ər "kɪd" ər "spɔrt" ər ˈnəθɪŋ

like that. Cool?

laɪk ðət. kul?

Whatever you say, slick. But I need to tell you something about all your skills. As of right now, they mean precisely dick.

ˌwəˈtɛvər ju seɪ, slɪk. bət aɪ nid tɪ tɛl ju ˈsəmθɪŋ əˈbaʊt ɔl jʊr skɪlz. ɛz əv raɪt naʊ, ðeɪ min prɪˈsaɪsli dɪk.

Kay!

keɪ!

Purpose of trip?

ˈpərpəs əv trɪp?

Diplomatic mission.

ˌdɪpləˈmætɪk ˈmɪʃən.

Duration of stay?

ˈdʊˈreɪʃən əv steɪ?

Lunch.

lənʧ.

Any fruits or vegetables?

ˈɛni fruts ər ˈvɛʤtəbəlz?

You want to stay away from that guy. He's ummm, he's grouchy. A three-hour delay in customs after a trip of 17 trillion miles is going to make anybody

ju wɔnt tɪ steɪ əˈweɪ frəm ðət gaɪ. hiz ummm, hiz ˈgraʊʧi. ə θriaʊər dɪˈleɪ ɪn ˈkəstəmz ˈæftər ə trɪp əv 17 ˈtrɪljən maɪəlz ɪz goʊɪŋ tɪ meɪk ˈɛnibədi

cranky. You know what I mean?

ˈkræŋki. ju noʊ wət aɪ min?

Hey. what branch of the government do we report to?

heɪ. wət brænʧ əv ðə ˈgəvərnmənt du wi rɪˈpɔrt tɪ?

None. They ask too many questions.

nən. ðeɪ æsk tu ˈmɛni kˈwɛsʧənz.

So who pays for all this?

soʊ hu peɪz fər ɔl ðɪs?

We hold patents on a few gadgets that we confiscated from out-of-state visitors. Velcro, microwave ovens, liposuction. This is a fascinating little gadget.

wi hoʊld ˈpætənts ɔn ə fju ˈgæʤəts ðət wi ˈkɑnfəˌskeɪtəd frəm out-of-state ˈvɪzɪtərz. ˈvɛlkroʊ, ˈmaɪkrəˌweɪv ˈəvənz, ˈlɪpoʊˌsəkʃən. ðɪs ɪz ə ˈfæsəˌneɪtɪŋ ˈlɪtəl ˈgæʤət.

It's going to replace CDs soon. Guess I'll have to buy the "White Album" again.

ɪts goʊɪŋ tɪ ˌriˈpleɪs ˈsiˈdiz sun. gɛs aɪl hæv tɪ baɪ ðə "waɪt ˈælbəm" əˈgɛn.

Observation, the heart of our little endeavor. Meet the twins - Blblup and Bob.

ˌɑbzərˈveɪʃən, ðə hɑrt əv ɑr ˈlɪtəl ɪnˈdɛvər. mit ðə twɪnz blblup ənd bɑb.

This map shows the location of every registered alien on Earth at any given time. Some of them are under constant surveillance. Everyone on those screens

ðɪs mæp ʃoʊz ðə loʊˈkeɪʃən əv ˈɛvəri ˈrɛʤɪstərd ˈeɪliən ɔn ərθ æt ˈɛni ˈgɪvɪn taɪm. səm əv ðɛm ər ˈəndər ˈkɑnstənt sərˈveɪləns. ˈɛvriˌwən ɔn ðoʊz skrinz

is an alien. In public, they're as normal as you are, but in private, well, you'll get the idea.

ɪz ən ˈeɪliən. ɪn ˈpəblɪk, ðɛr ɛz ˈnɔrməl ɛz ju ər, bət ɪn ˈpraɪvət, wɛl, jul gɪt ðə aɪˈdiə.

Oh, man.

oʊ, mæn.

Doesn't make any sense, does it?

ˈdəzənt meɪk ˈɛni sɛns, dɪz ɪt?

Well, no, it makes perfect sense. When I was in third grade, everybody told me I was crazy, but I knew our teacher had to be from like Venus or something like that.

wɛl, noʊ, ɪt meɪks ˈpərˌfɪkt sɛns. wɪn aɪ wɑz ɪn θərd greɪd, ˈɛvriˌbɑdi toʊld mi aɪ wɑz ˈkreɪzi, bət aɪ nu ɑr ˈtiʧər hæd tɪ bi frəm laɪk ˈvinəs ər ˈsəmθɪŋ laɪk ðət.

Ms. Edelson. Jupiter, actually. Well, one of the moons.

mɪz. ˈɛdɪlsən. ˈʤupɪtər, ˈæˌkʧuəli. wɛl, wən əv ðə munz.

Class, be quiet and pay attention! If I have to tell you one more time...

klæs, bi kwaɪət ənd peɪ əˈtɛnʃən! ɪf aɪ hæv tɪ tɛl ju wən mɔr taɪm...

Edwards! Let's put it on.

ˈɛdwərdz! lɛts pʊt ɪt ɔn.

Put what on?

pʊt wət ɔn?

The last suit you'll ever wear.

ðə læst sut jul ˈɛvər wɛr.

You will dress only in attire specially sanctioned by MIB special services. You'll conform to the identity we give you. Eat where we tell you. Live where

ju wɪl drɛs ˈoʊnli ɪn əˈtaɪər ˈspɛʃəli ˈsæŋkʃənd baɪ mɪb ˈspɛʃəl ˈsərvɪsɪz. jul kənˈfɔrm tɪ ðə aɪˈdɛntəˌti wi gɪv ju. it wɛr wi tɛl ju. lɪv wɛr

we tell you. From now on, you'll have no identifying marks of any kind. You'll not stand out in any way.

wi tɛl ju. frəm naʊ ɔn, jul hæv noʊ aɪˈdɛntəˌfaɪɪŋ mɑrks əv ˈɛni kaɪnd. jul nɑt stænd aʊt ɪn ˈɛni weɪ.

Your entire image is crafted to leave no lasting memory with anyone you encounter. You are a rumor, recognizable only as deja vu and dismissed just as quickly.

jʊr ɪnˈtaɪər ˈɪmɪʤ ɪz ˈkræftɪd tɪ liv noʊ ˈlæstɪŋ ˈmɛməri wɪθ ˈɛniˌwən ju ɪnˈkaʊnər. ju ər ə ˈrumər, ˌrɛkəgˈnaɪzəbəl ˈoʊnli ɛz ˈdiʤə vu ənd dɪsˈmɪst ʤɪst ɛz kˈwɪkli.

You don't exist. You were never even born. Anonymity is your name. Silence, your native tongue. You're no longer part of the system. You're above the

ju doʊnt ɪgˈzɪst. ju wər ˈnɛvər ˈivɪn bɔrn. ˌænəˈnɪmɪti ɪz jʊr neɪm. ˈsaɪləns, jʊr ˈneɪtɪv təŋ. jʊr noʊ ˈlɔŋgər pɑrt əv ðə ˈsɪstəm. jʊr əˈbəv ðə

system. Over it. Beyond it. We're them. We're they. We are the Men in Black.

ˈsɪstəm. ˈoʊvər ɪt. bɪɔnd ɪt. wɪr ðɛm. wɪr ðeɪ. wi ər ðə mɛn ɪn blæk.

You know what the difference is between you and me? I make this look good.

ju noʊ wət ðə ˈdɪfərəns ɪz bɪtˈwin ju ənd mi? aɪ meɪk ðɪs lʊk gʊd.