 Good people, today I'm going to tell you about the bountiful blessings that will be ours when each of us produces for the welfare of the other. Nature itself furnishes many examples of efficiently controlled and planned economies. Why, even the ants have eliminated competition and live according to a master plan of coordinated cooperation. Boy, what I like to be an ant. I say to you, go to the ant, study his ways and be wise. Study his ways and be wise. Be wise. I say what? Be wise. I mean, who are you? I, sir, am proud to be called an ant. Oh, an ant. An ant? Hey, you guys got a plan where the government manages everything and the people get all the benefits, huh? Oh, indeed, yes. Our planners give us everything we need. Would you care to come with me to Antrolia? Yes, I got to see. This is our first stop. Who are the characters? They're the coordinators for the planning board. And what's that gauging? A job classifier. Fair tilting the machine, chum. Just let the little ball do its work. Our planning board invented this mechanical wizard to give each and every ant the freedom to choose his own job. It operates on the principle of personality electronics. The force impulses of your attitudes are transmitted to the ball, causing it to drop into the proper slot. Hey, this machine made a mistake. I'm an arrow mechanic. Here's my union card. From now on, you belong to the State Union. Something bothering you? Oh, no, no. My friend is happy to be chosen for membership in our glorious State Union. Yes, sir. Good day, good day. Tell him. I don't think I like being told where I got to work. Now, old fellow, one must give up a little freedom if one expects the government to take care of one. Sound logical? Sounds confusing to me. Hey, free movies. Hope it's Heady Gable. The March of Vance brings you intimate views of our all-wise, all-powerful planning board, busily engaged in breaking down the budget for the coming year. Now we shall leave our exalted leaders for a moment and travel around our happy country, observing our plan in action. No citizen of Antrolia has to pay for transportation. Everyone has the right to a free ride. Here, happy workers enjoy a free, paid vacation. And every angler is guaranteed at least one fish. Our Minister of Production has just released this year's quota, 10 splendid modern radios to those lucky citizens holding ration books. Now, we take you to our state radio news bureau, where our favorite broadcaster brings you the news of the outside world. Flash, election returns. Our planning board has just been re-elected for the 50th consecutive turn. Hey, great picture. Very inspiring. Honey, you know, you were a slave. All state-produced pictures are always great. Come on, we have to go to work. Say, uh, did you vote for those guys? Oh, indeed, yes. I must show my gratitude for all the planning board has done for me. Besides, nobody dares vote against them anywhere. Don't you ever disagree with them? Well, sometimes I do have a few faint doubts. Oh, you made a dead man. Let's get the bomb. Never mind. It's for my own good. Thank you very much for the gentle reminder. So sorry I had forgotten. Forks against the plan aren't allowed. Couldn't have that, no sorry. Well, here's where we work. Music while you work. Well, that's pretty nice. There's our machine. That's our quota. I ain't kidding why that quota's a cinch. And with music yet. Very nifty. Hey, that's a better tempo. Quota keeps going up. So it does. So it does. The more we make the more dough we get. The state gives you a medal if you make your quota. What happens if I don't make it? A real union in this sweatshop. The state can't push me around. What a joint. Everybody's a slave. I want my freedom of speech. Freedom to assemble. Freedom to strike. Justice. Where are you taking me? To the minister of justice. To get your little justice. It's not a damn nice introduction to the drive. It's a relatively brilliant, but then you're very good. Of course. Now that we've been told, honey, we'll have to eliminate it. Boys have done a marvelous job on the entire plan. We'll file it. Big pardon, your honors, but this guy wants a little justice. You said it. I want... Oh, heavens, we haven't had a complaint for so long. I've forgotten. What'll I do? Just study the stars, old fellow. Amazing. Astounding. See? Yes, it's becoming apparent. The face of the complainant is appearing from behind the most unfavorable sign. Most regrettable. Get me a lawyer. Where's my congressman? Get my senator. You can't bump a guy off without a fair trial. It's unconstitutional. You'll pay for this. Fugitive's from an ad hill. Get the exterminator man. Get the DDT. Yes, my good friends, the ants have much to teach us. Our antiquated American freedoms must be replaced by state planning boards who can establish controls that will guarantee... Listen, folks, this dope's off his rocker. Now let me give you the real lowdown on them, ants.