Mimic Page #4

Peter outperforms most of the other RUNNERS in the track, his

steady rhythm evidence of years of practice. Keeping his

stride, he runs off the track and past a flock of OLD NUNS.

PETER:

Excuse me, ladies...

Without slowing down, Peter retakes the path and moves past

them.

EXT. JOGGER'S PATH - NEAR FIFTH AVENUE - LATER

Peter finally slows down. He checks his pulse and stops at a

water fountain.

As he drinks, he sees a DERELICT drawing a figure on the

sidewalk.

The derelict spots Peter. He picks up his chalk, drifts off.

Intrigued, Peter goes closer to the drawing. An arrow points

to a manhole cover set among the bushes.

Peter circles around, trying to make sense out of the lines.

Then the painted motif finally reveals itself.

GRAFFITI:

A talismanic figure of raw, archetypal power. A few jagged

lines form the shape of a MAN IN AN OVERCOAT. His face is

little more than a malignant blotch.

CUT TO:

INT. MUSEUM - EXHIBIT ROOM - DAY

A room of half-finished exhibits. A group of SCULPTORS --

most of them undergraduates -- work on a gigantic piece

representing a termite mound. They're supervised by SIRI, a

punkish young Indian research assistant.

Susan talks to some of the sculptors about a 100-1 scale

clay model of an insect's head. She gestures to the

model's mandible set.

SUSAN:

...no, guys, these have to fit

perfectly. No spaces in between. Let

me tell you why. Insects have no

hands. All they have is this set of

mandibles.

She grabs the outer mandible set.

SUSAN:

See? This little piggy will grab the

prey.

Then unfolds a second set...

SUSAN:

Then this little piggy will tear it

in half...

And a third!!!

SUSAN:

...and this little one will grind it

to a pulp and push it in... all the

way into the mouth. These are

precision tools here. Can you

remember that?

The guys nod.

SUSAN:

Good. Then get it right.

A piece of the termite mound is raised above their heads,

revealing...

...Peter, at the entrance, still dressed in his jogging

sweats. He smiles at Susan.

CUT TO:

EXHIBITS:

Peter and Susan walk through. Peter pulls something from a

KNAPSACK. A bottle of medicine marked: METALLININ.

PETER:

(teasing)

"Baby in a bottle..."

He gives it to Susan.

SUSAN:

Don't tease.

Around them, WORKMEN begin unloading crates of display stuff,

as a MAN on a ladder tacks up an "ARCHITECTS OF NATURE"

banner. Susan proceeds behind an exhibit representing a

honeycomb. Peter follows as she begins to arrange some tools.

PETER:

You know where they get this

fertility stuff? They extract it

from the urine of menopausal Italian

nuns.

SUSAN:

(laughs)

Monks bottle their own wine. Don't

they?

She gently touches her belly.

SUSAN:

Trust me. I've never been this late.

Never.

She shakes the bottle.

SUSAN:

If nun's pee is what it takes...

Peter's cellular RINGS from his knapsack. Susan grabs a

larvae model from a pile on the floor.

SUSAN:

You were the one who ran around with

ice in his underwear, don't forget

that.

PETER:

Don't get kinky here...

Peter takes the call. Susan cuts away the excess plastic on

the lid around the honeycomb moldings. The larvae fits

perfectly inside.

PETER:

Okay, meet me out front.

(to Susan)

I gotta go. Josh's picking me up in five.

see you tonight.

SUSAN:

I'll be late.

He kisses her and leaves. Susan turns to Siri and the group

working on that sculpture.

SUSAN:

Siri, sandblast that thing. It looks

like Trump Tower. Those mounds are

supposed to be made of dirt and

excretions...

SIRI:

(a wicked smile)

Just like Trump Tower, then.

CUT TO:

EXT. STREET

A Department of Health VAN honks its way through a traffic

jam.

INT. VAN

Peter's right hand man, JOSH MASLOW -- a young, good-natured,

can-do guy -- drives.

JOSH:

...So I say "buddy, you have every

violation in the book. Gimme one

good reason not to close you down."

You know what the Kraut says to me?

In the back, Peter finishes changing out of his jogging

sweats and into his worksuit.

JOSH:

The blintzes! "Try the blintzes..."

PETER:

(distractedly)

Selling your sould for a fistful of

carbohydrates...

JOSH:

Not just any carbohydrates, mind you.

It was like being on the receiving

end of some kind of transcendent oral

sex.

(honks furiously)

We should get a strobe on this thing.

Maybe even a siren.

PETER:

Yeah, and a loudspeaker so you can

yell "Epidemic! Epidemic! You're all

going to die!"

EXT. FLOPHOUSE - DAY

The Department of Health van pulls up outside the flophouse

where the Chinese Preacher died. Peter and Josh get out.

COPS push back a few ONLOOKERS. Josh proudly flashes his DOH

badge.

JOSH:

Health Department...

The cops let them pass.

PETER:

You really love flashing that thing,

don't you?

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