Antz Page #10

FORMICA:

Affirmative.

Z:

So...you two are in love?

FORMICA:

In love?

(shakes his head)

I'm just a plain old soldier at

heart. I'll tell you what I love --

the field -- blood -- death --

orders...and the company of other

warriors.

Formica gives Z a manly slap on the back. Z looks a little

uncomfortable as we...

CUT TO:

INT. THRONE ROOM - DAY

Z follows Formica and Carpenter into the throne room. At the

end of the hall, a society band is playing. The room is full

of courtier ants and officers.

Waiters are gliding around holding trays of hors d'ouevres.

Z:

Wow, what a spread -- you know,

there's a food shortage in the rest

of the colony.

FORMICA:

Yes, and do you know why there's a

food shortage?

Z:

...Not enough food?

FORMICA:

Negatory. Too many ants. And while

we soldiers go out there, and fight,

and bleed, and die for the colony,

the namby-pamby workers live it up

back home.

Feeling a little hot, Z wipes his brow.

Z:

Well I, I don't think "living it up"

is the right term -- how about

"working themselves to death"?

FORMICA:

I tell you son, sometimes, at night,

I see myself in battle, fighting a

horrible, faceless enemy, with the

future of our whole species at stake.

And always, the dream ends with each

of us plunging his sword into the

other's heart...

Z:

(spooked)

Oh, hey, that's great, I think I see

an old war buddy over there, it's

been fun chatting. Good luck with

the hallucinations.

Z escapes from Formica, who gazes after him suspiciously.

Z mingles in with the crowd, then he sees Princess Bala

standing with a group of officers who are eating hors

d'oeuvres.

OFFICER:

(telling a joke)

What do you call it when 10,000

workers are killed in a tunnel cave-

in?

(a beat)

Who cares? They're workers!

The officers laugh, but Bala looks bored in this stuffy

social scene.

Z:

But...don't you think the worker

class is the very foundation of the

colony --

(realizes he's

getting odd looks)

I mean, uh, without them, who would

we stand on?

More laughter.

BALA:

You're the hero of the recent termite

campaign, aren't you?

Z:

Well, if single-handedly vanquishing

the enemy and slaughtering a whole

nestful of termites makes someone a

hero, yes I am.

Z reaches for a tray of canapes that a waiter is carrying by,

and KNOCKS the whole thing CLATTERING to the ground.

Z:

(feigning nonchalance)

And you are...?

BALA:

I'm Princess Bala.

Z:

Ah, yes.

(affected)

Well, charmed, I'm sure. So,

Princess, have you ever danced with

a hero?

BALA:

Yes.

Z:

(deflated)

Oh...oh well then, one more won't

matter.

She moves towards the dance floor. Z spit-combs his

antennae, struts after her -- until he trips on his sword.

He tumbles, falls, but hops to his feet just as Bala turns

toward him, turning it into a ballet plies.

Z:

Just warming up...

She frowns...there's something familiar about this guy. But

then they start dancing.

ACROSS THE ROOM:
The Queen and General Formica watch the

party.

QUEEN:

All these parties are so marvellously

alike.

FORMICA:

They should be...

(suspicious)

But there's something funny about

that soldier.

Formica strides over to where Z and Bala are dancing.

FORMICA:

(glowering)

May I cut in?

Z:

(intimidated)

Oh, of course --

BALA:

(pulling Z back)

No, General. I'm dancing with the

war hero.

Z:

(trying to placate

Formica)

Uh, sorry, General, I...I've always

had this animal magnetism, it --

Bala YANKS Z back onto the dance floor, dancing away from

Formica.

BALA:

You dance...

Z:

Divinely?

BALA:

No weirdly...You remind me of

someone...

Formica catches Bala's eye. She frowns at him, and decides

to get a little shocking.

BALA:

He was swarthy...primitive...

earthy...sensual.

As she says these things, Z tries to act accordingly.

BALA:

He was a worker. I danced with him

at a worker's bar just the other day.

I'm not shocking you, am I?

Z:

(proudly)

No...as a matter of fact...

BALA:

(shocked)

OH MY GOD, IT'S YOU! YOU'RE A

WORKER!!! A filthy, stupid,

disgusting WORKER!

Everybody gasps. The dancing stops cold.

Z:

Gee, uh, could you say it a little

louder, I think there are some ants

in the next colony who didn't hear

you.

BALA:

I CAN'T DANCE WITH A WORKER!

Z:

(offended)

That's not what you said the other

night --

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