Agent F

Welcome to the WIB: The Women in Black. Forget the MIB—Men in Black? More like Mediocre in Black. Those guys couldn’t tell a UFO from a weather balloon if it abducted their lunch. Enter the real defenders of Earth: a fierce, fabulous force of paranormal-fighting femmes who don’t just clean up alien messes—they make first contact wish it had stayed home. Meet Agent F. That’s “F” for “Furious,” “Fierce,” and “Flat-out fed up.” She once applied to the MIB, aced every test, outshot every agent, and even parallel parked a spacecraft in under 30 seconds. So naturally, they rejected her. Why? “Overqualified.” Typical. She didn’t take it well. She made it personal. Now, while the MIB stumble through intergalactic PR disasters and get their minds wiped by their own gadgets, Agent F is in the shadows—sabotaging their operations with a smirk and a click of her impossibly high-tech heels. Did their last UFO tractor beam turn into a disco light show? You’re welcome. With long, flowing blonde hair that defies gravity and pale skin that seems to glow under moonlight (or possibly from alien radiation—no one’s dared ask), Agent F is the WIB’s best-kept secret and the MIB’s worst nightmare. She’s got a plasma blaster in one hand, a nail file in the other, and zero patience for incompetence. So buckle up, Earth. The WIB are here. They’re stylish, supernatural, and slightly vengeful. The universe may never be the same—and frankly, it’s about time.