Mimic Page #11

Ernest watches them go. He turns back to the graffiti

painting of The Stickman.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. SUBWAY TUNNEL - LATER

Ernest walks deeper into the tunnels. Dusklight slants in

weakly from grates above.

He stops as a RUMBLE is heard ahead of him He ducks into a

recess in the wall. The RUMBLE grows LOUDER, LOUDER.

A SUBWAY TRAIN curves around the bend up ahead, its

HEADLIGHTS raking the opposite wall to reveal...

A FIGURE crouched over something.

We hear CHOMPING and SWALLOWING sounds.

CU ERNEST:

Squinting to see over his flashlight beam.

ERNEST:

Hey, buddy!

No answer. Just the wet sounds of food getting chewed and

ingested. Ernest is revolted.

ERNEST:

Get off my track...

The crouching figure lifts its head and looks around in a

unusually quick BLUR OF MOTION. It's the OVERCOAT MAN.

Another distant RUMBLE. Ernest's clothes flutter in the puff

of hot wind that signals an approaching train.

Ernest pulls a CAN OF MACE from his belt, begins to advance.

The Overcoat Man stands up.

Ernest stops in his tracks.

For he sees that the Overcoat Man is holding a large OBJECT

in his arms. Something wet and shiny with blood.

A dead dog.

The Overcoat Man drops the animal. It rolls slowly down his

chest...

...and is briefly caught BY ANOTHER SET OF ARMS EXTENDING

FROM HIS TORSO.

ERNEST:

Sweet Jesus...

The Overcoat Man lets the animal fall to the ground. He

begins walking toward Ernest.

Ernest backs away.

The Overcoat Man LEAPS on him just as the SUBWAY TRAIN ROARS

PAST!

CRACK! Ernest's body is twisted and crunched by powerful

arms.

Through the strobing windows we see Ernest enveloped by the

dark figure, then raised above, taken away.

TRACK:

The can of mace rolls next to the track as the TRAIN CLEARS.

The track is empty again.

CUT TO:

INT. EXHIBITION HALL - BANNER

We PAN across the banner: 'ARCHITECTS OF NATURE'.

INT. EXHIBITION FLOOR

EXHIBITS under glass set up throughout the room: Insect

chambers and vaults of great complexity, etc.

An opening night CROWD of affluent MUSEUM PATRONS. All

tuxedoes and painted smiles. Some peremptorily peruse the

displays; most just camp out at the buffet table.

Peter enters, dressed in his worksuit. He scans the

room, sees Siri leaning against a wall by the buffet

table, drinking an orange juice. He goes over to her.

PETER:

Heya.

(Kisses her on the cheek.)

Where's the boss?

Siri gestures to the far end of the room. Susan stands

alone, sipping a chardonnay by an ANT MOUND exhibit.

SIRI:

Ant mound.

Peter notices Siri seems unusually weary. She covers one

of her eyes.

PETER:

You okay?

SIRI:

It's just a headache. We were

sandblasting Trump Tower here since

four this morning.

PETER:

Maybe you should sit...

SIRI:

I'm fine. Go talk to Susan. She could

use a good word right now.

She nods for him to go ahead. Peter leaves.

Siri closes her eyes. She rubs the bandage around the

insect bite on her hand.

PETER:

approaches Susan. She's staring through thr glass panes

of the exhibit at the crowd of patrons. In the

refraction, their black tuxedoes and evening gowns seem

to blend into one another.

PETER:

Great crowd.

SUSAN:

No such thing, baby.

She looks over at the crowd congregated around the

buffet table.

SUSAN:

I get the feeling they came more for

the potroast than the apterids.

PETER:

F*** 'em. They don't know what

they're missing.

SUSAN:

(Distantly)

Right.

Peter looks at her.

PETER:

What's wrong?

Susan sighs.

SUSAN:

Oh...nothing that a little

menopausal's pee daikiri couldn't

cure. Least that's what I thought.

Peter looks at her, notices that one of her hands is on

her stomach.

PETER:

(genuinely moved)

Oh, no, you were-

SUSAN:

I was just late.

Susan nods. Peter takes her hand. They sit by the ant

mound.

SUSAN:

Ironic, don't you think? These guys

can hatch hundreds of offspring in a

single clutch of eggs, right? And

here we are...

PETER:

Susan, we're not b-

SIRI (OS)

Susan?

Susan looks up to see Siri standing on the other side of

the glass case.

SIRI:

(Weakly.)

I'm sorry. I think...I need...

One of her eyes is completely bloodshot. Her mouth is

bleeding. She puts her hand on the case to steady

herself.

Her fingers leave a STREAK OF BLOOD on the glass.

SUSAN:

Siri...

Siri collapses. The exhibit tips over.

Peter pulls Susan out of the way just as the exhibit

FALLS AND SMASHES TO THE GROUND!

SUSAN:

Siri!

The room erupts into COMMOTION.

Susan and Peter run to Siri, who lies unconscious on the

floor.

Peter gently turns her over.

Siri's BLEEDING from the corner of her mouth. Just like

the Chinese workers in the sweatshop.

Tuxedoed people encircle her next to the insect mounds.

SMASH CUT TO:

EXT. NEW YORK STREET - NIGHT

An ambulance races down the avenue toward a distant

hospital.

INT. HOSPITAL - HALLWAY

Siri is rushed on a gurney toward the Emergency Room.

Peter and Susan walk next to it talking to DR. CHRIS

RAYMOND, a 35-year old ER physician.

PETER:

...I think it's some kind of systemic

infection, Chris. I saw a few cases

like it yesterday. A sweatshop in

Canal.

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