Men in Black 32012

[while young K is talking to Warhol, J encounters Griffin at the party not knowing who he is]:

Agent J:
How's is it going?

Griffin:
Going? How's it going? Well, that depends. For me personally, it's good, things are good. Unless, of course, we're in the possible future where the muscle boy near the door gets into an argument with his girlfriend, which causes her to storm away and bump into the guy carrying the stuffed mushroom, who then dumps the tray onto those sailors on leave and a shoving match breaks out and they crash into the coffee table here. In which case, I gotta move my plate like right now.

[J watches as everything Griffin says happens]

Griffin:
Or, if it's the possible future, in which the pastrami sandwich I'm eating causes me gastric distress. But thankfully your friend, sir, will offer some of the antacids he carries in his right pocket. So I'll be good, I'll be good. Except in the case of the possible future where I have to leave in two and a half minutes, just before he has a chance to offer me the antacids. So, on the whole, I'd have to say, not good. I'm not good.

[J gives Griffin a confused look]:

Griffin:
But that depends.

Agent J:
K!