Two Ants Lament

Act Two
Scene Three

Nasty picnic table in a fast food restaurant parking lot. Sunny. Late Afternoon.

BENNY:

Here we go again, back and forth, to and fro, and all for what? I find a crumb, I carry it back, you find a crumb, you carry it back. Then that guy with the sugar stash finds a bigger crumb, he carries it back and the queen goes mental. “Oooh Bob, that’s the biggest crumb I’ve seen in days, where did you get it? Are there any more? How did you manage all by yourself?”

Blah, blah, blah. It’s enough to make a guy change jobs.

Do you remember the guy who got fed up and started his own colony? I hear he was making out like a bandit until one of them started poking around the old homestead. Nothing but rubble now. Fuckin tragedy.”

BUDDY OF BENNY:

Benny, can you please shut your yap and help me haul this fry out of here. I think I hear one of them coming back and you know how pissy they get when they spot us swarming over their fries. God only knows how they eat this crap, it’s only good for construction.

BENNY:

You’re a pain in the ass, you know that? Here I’m trying to broaden your horizons, inject a little ambition into your life, and all you can say is “help me haul this fry.” WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT THE FRY?

We move the whole hill, kit and caboodle, because that clown in resources says the yellow m is a gold mine of construction material and for what? A nicer mound? Every time one of them starts up one of their cars I want to puke. If you happen to be behind one when it starts you croak.

Remember that little fellow with the limp? He’s just taking a break, idling on a huge piece of candy, when he hears a door closing, he starts to move but gets stuck in a sticky patch, car starts, boom he’s gassed. I heard he was still blue when they buried him. Poor bastard, if it looks sticky, it probably is sticky. First thing you learn.

BUDDY OF BENNY:

Are you finished? Cause if you’re finished maybe you’d like to pick up your end and we can get this over with. The last fifty guys I bumped into said that there’s the mother of all chunks of cheese out in the grass and I’ve got a date tonight. You know how chicks go wild over cheese so help a guy out here.

BENNY:

Is it the same one I saw you scurrying around after on the weekend? Jeez you’re pathetic, she’s seen more cheese than you’ve seen dirt buddy.

BUDDY OF BENNY:

That’s it. You’re an asshole, carry the fry on your own. Better yet I hope you get squashed ya dick.

BENNY:

Hey, hey, where are you going? C’mon, I’m just sayin, yours might not be the first tunnel she’s gone down, if you know what I mean.

BUDDY OF BENNY:

Oh that’s rich, really, that’s insightful. This from someone who’s been in every tunnel in the mound.

BENNY:

What can I say. The ladies love a lover. My point is things have changed. Ever since they brought in the quotas it’s been different. No more banging about aimlessly for the adventure of it. Now we have to justify our day. Time sheets for example, what kind of a fiend decided we should have to say exactly what we did today and when. That’s freakin evil.

Used to be you’d go out, scurry around and maybe find some useful tidbit to bring back. Nobody kept score, everybody was happy.

Then some guy who couldn’t tell a tasty crumb from a cigarette butt decides we need accountability. What accountability? We had accountability, if you found something you ate, if you found lots of something you shared what you couldn’t use.

Now it’s a competition, “hey check this out Stan, chocolate, heard about the green bread, tough luck.”

This is bullshit, let’s just take off, there are all kinds of parking lots we can live on the edge of.

And……Scene

You’re welcome.