"Well there's something you don't see every day," Bond observed. "Unless you're us, apparently," he added.

Michelle's brief transformation had looked unnervingly familiar, as if he'd seen it before--or something like it, at least. May's inhumanly flexibility was pretty eye-opening, too. And...Frank's hungery, yellow-eyed look at Michelle didn't bode well either.

Bond flexed the fingers of his left hand--his real hand. Muttering quietly to himself, he said, "Klaatu barada nikto!" and gestured at one of the unoccupied tables, willing...something to happen.

Nada. Zippo. Zilch. Nothing.

"Damn," Bond said. (I guess I'll just have to get by on my dashing good looks and savoir faire.)