Kitty

The theme for this one was ‘fur’.

 

PAGE 1

 

PANEL 1: Close up on a kitten sitting on a chest of draws, a window behind her, staring towards us, head tilted just slightly to the side in curiosity. There’s a bow around her neck, like one you’d put on a present.

GARRY (O/S): Fuck…

 

PANEL 2: We swing around to an over the shoulder shot. This is a bedroom, shared by two people, a man and a woman. Past the kitten, Garry, a man in his late twenties/early thirties, is looking down at something out of shot, distraught.

GARRY: Fuck!

 

PANEL 3: Medium shot, Garry out of panel again, as the kitten drops gracefully to the floor from the chest of draws.

GARRY (O/S): Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

 

PANEL 4: The kitten walks curiously along the carpet, with nothing else of significance in shot.

GARRY (O/S): Oh God.

 

PANEL 5: Then it reaches a woman’s hand, backside down, fingers slightly curled. It licks a finger.

GARRY (O/S): Fuck!

 

 

PAGE 2

 

PANEL 1: Close up on Garry’s hand. It’s clutching a round, glass paper weight about the size of a tennis ball. Inside are curling, coloured patterns, you know the kind. It’s been fractured by impact, and perhaps it’s a little bloody.

GARRY: I’m sorry…

 

PANEL 2: Carroll, his girlfriend, lies on the ground, blood pooling around her head. She’s been hit in the face with the paper weight, leaving her face just slightly bludgeoned in. The kitten is still licking her hand.

GARRY (O/S): I didn’t mean it…

 

PANEL 3: Garry staggers back into a wall, eyes locked on the body, still clutching the paper weight.

GARRY: Say something…

 

PANEL 4: He slides down the wall onto the floor, knees up against his chest, and he’s beginning to cry.

GARRY: I didn’t mean it…

 

PANEL 5: Suddenly he loses it, and yelling furiously, tears in his eyes, he hurls the paper weight at the body.

GARRY: Open your fucking eyes!

 

 

PAGE 3

 

PANEL 1: The paper weight hits the kitten in the head.

 

PANEL 2: Close up on Garry, eyes wide in shock and disbelief.

GARRY: Kitty…?

 

PANEL 3: Half running, half crawling, he races across the room towards the kitten, which is lying motionless on the floor.

GARRY: Kitty!

 

PANEL 4: On hands and knees, he looks down at the kitten with terrified, hurt eyes, too afraid to touch it.

GARRY: No.

 

PANEL 5: As carefully as if he was defusing a bomb, he slides a hand under the kitten’s head, tilting its face up towards him, and places his other hand gently on its side.

GARRY: Please no. Kitty?

 

PANEL 6: Close up on the kitten as it opens its eyes just slightly. It’s badly hurt, but not dead yet.

KITTEN: Mrr…

 

 

PAGE 4

 

PANEL 1: Kitten wrapped in a blanket and held tightly in his arms like a baby, Garry bursts out the front door of his flat and out into the hallway of his block of flats.

GARRY: It’s going to be okay.

 

PANEL 2: He races down the hallway towards a flight of stairs at the end.

GARRY: Everything’s going to be okay.

 

PANEL 3: He manages to stop just before running into an older woman coming up to the staircase.

WOMAN: Garry? Is everything all right?

 

PANEL 4: Garry looks down at the bundle in his arms, the kitten’s head poking out of the blanket, adorable except for the trickle of blood from its ear. The old woman puts a hand to her heart in fright and concern.

WOMAN: Oh dear, what have you done? Poor little thing’s barely breathing.

 

PANEL 5: She looks around him to where his front door is still hanging open into the hallway.

WOMAN: And you’ve left your door open.

WOMAN: Tell you what, why don’t I shut your door for you, and you hurry along to the vet? I don’t think the little thing’s got much time left to spare.

 

PANEL 6: Garry looks back at the open door, knowing his choice now is between the kitten’s life and discovery.

 

PANEL 7: He runs down the stairs past the old woman.

 

 

PAGE 5

 

PANEL 1: Garry sits in the waiting room of a vet’s. The walls are covered in animal/vet related posters. There’s another person or two waiting with animals. He’s staring straight ahead, nearly emotionless, crippled with fear. The captions start in the top left of each panel, and run through it at the artist’s discretion

CAPTION (CARROLL): Close your eyes!

CAPTION (GARRY): Why?

CAPTION (CARROLL): I have a surprise for you!

CAPTION (GARRY): What is it?

CAPTION (CARROLL): Just close your eyes.

 

PANEL 2: Same again, except a vet has come to tell one of the other people it’s their turn.

CAPTION (GARRY): Tickets. You got us tickets to something I didn’t realise was on.

CAPTION (CARROLL): Nope!

CAPTION (GARRY): A Wii, you got us a Wii.

CAPTION (CARROLL): You won’t guess.

CAPTION (GARRY): A prostitute, you’re giving me a threesome? Ow!

 

PANEL 3: Same again. The person before is leaving the room after the vet, carrying their animal.

CAPTION (GARRY): It’s a kitten.

CAPTION (CARROLL): It’s our kitten!

CAPTION (GARRY): Is this supposed to be funny?

CAPTION (CARROLL): What?

CAPTION (GARRY): I can’t give you a baby, so you got a fucking cat instead?

 

PANEL 4: Same again, with the person gone.

CAPTION (CARROLL): I thought you’d be happy.

CAPTION (GARRY): Yeah, I’m over the fucking moon. ‘Impotent? No worries, we’ll just get a fucking cat instead!’

CAPTION (CARROLL): I thought we were past all that. This is enough for me.

CAPTION (GARRY): I’m enough for you? Really? Wow! Lucky fucking you!

CAPTION (CARROLL): That’s not what I meant. I love you, Garry, I don’t need a baby as well.

CAPTION (GARRY): Don’t touch me!

 

PANEL 5: Another vet arrives from the operating theatre and follows Garry’s gaze to a pair of policemen standing in the doorway. The first caption is in the top right of the panel, the second in the bottom left.

CAPTION (GARRY): Carroll?

VET: Garry? Good news, she’s going to be…

CAPTION (GARRY): Fuck…

 

First Aid

The theme for this one was ‘Monsters’ and the finished product, as brought to life by the crazy talented Guy Allen, can be found here: http://guyallen.blogspot.com/2009/11/first-aid.html.

 

Page 1

 

Panel 1: A group of people stand together attending a first aid lesson. In the middle of the room, on the kind of table you’d find in a doctor’s office, lies a dummy designed for teaching CPR. The walls of the room are covered in safety posters and the like. The instructor, a middle aged woman, is standing over the dummy, talking to the class.

Caption: ‘Every day, all over the world, thousands of people work to bring inanimate objects back to life.’

 

Panel 2: As the instructor and the rest of the class watch on, one of the class members, a woman, has a go at chest compression on the dummy.

Caption: ‘Even as I say this, they’re pumping at hearts that never beat.’

 

Panel 3: The instructor congratulates the woman on a good attempt as she looks to the class for another volunteer.

Caption: ‘Breathing air through lifeless lips.’

 

Panel 4: Tom, a young man in his mid twenties, raises his hand.

Caption: ‘Every day. All over the world. Thousands of people pumping and breathing and willing.’

 

Panel 5: Tom stares down at the lifeless face of the dummy, the instructor beside him, the class watching on from behind.

Caption: ‘The way they talk about the chance of sentient creatures on other planets, of life first spontaneously coming into being here on Earth, I know it sounds crazy, but, I mean, statistically speaking…

 

Panel 6: Close up as Tom breathes into the dummy’s mouth, and its eyes shoot open with life.

Caption: ‘It had to happen eventually.’

Caption (at lower right corner of the panel): ‘Right?’

 

 

Page 2

 

Panel 1: The dummy convulses with life, its chest jolting up from the table, and Tom falls backwards screaming. The instructor jumps with shock. The gathered glass reacts variously with shock, fear, or cynicism.

Tom: Gaaaahh!

 

Panel 2: The Dummy lies across the bottom of the shot, in the foreground, as the instructor and the class lean in from either side of the panel. The instructor looks cross, the class is variously nervous, amused and intrigued. In the centre, climbing to his feet, Tom peers cautiously over the dummy’s abdomen.

Tom: That was not funny. Seriously.

Instructor: I’m so sorry, this has nothing to do with me, I promise.

 

Panel 3: Suddenly the dummy jolts into a sitting position, its torso finishing at a right angle to its legs, head staring straight ahead. Everyone jumps back again, but with shock rather than fear this time.

 

Panel 4: The instructor moves towards the dummy, which sits utterly still.

Instructor: That wasn’t funny, Steve.

 

Panel 5: The dummy turns its head at an unnatural angle, alive and inanimate at once. Very creepy.

 

Panel 6: Suddenly a little freaked out, and not so sure, the instructor leans in even closer.

Instructor: Steve?

 

 

Page 3

 

Panel 1: Still sitting on the table, the dummy’s torso twists and its arms reach out, grabbing the instructor by the head.

Caption: ‘Even when it attacked, it wasn’t threatening.’

Instructor: Aaagh!

 

Panel 2: The dummy pulls the instructor’s face towards its own expressionless face.

Caption: ‘Terrifying, but not threatening.’

Instructor: Steve, this isn’t funny. Stop it.

 

Panel 3: The instructor’s eyes go wide as the dummy presses its mouth against hers in an attempt at CPR. Unfortunately, this time the airtight lock is suffocating.

Caption: ‘It wasn’t trying to hurt them.’

 

Panel 4: As the instructor continues struggling against the immovable dummy, already going blue, eyes wide with panic, some of the class are running out the door. The rest are standing around dumbly.

Caption: ‘At least, I don’t think it was.’

Instructor: Mmmmffffff!

 

Panel 5: A well built man pushes past Tom as he runs towards the instructor, who’s looking worse by the second.

Instructor: Mmmfff!

Man: Get off her!

 

Panel 6: As the instructor slumps, the guy pulls at the dummy’s arms. He’s a big man, but it’s no good, he might as well be pulling at steel girders.

Caption: ‘It was just doing the only thing it knew.’

Instructor: Mm…

 

 

Page 4

 

Panel 1: Close up. The instructor’s head hits the floor, dead, blue from suffocation, face frozen in a look of fear.

Caption: ‘It didn’t look satisfied with killing her.’

 

Panel 2: The dummy looks at the corpse, still expressionless, but head tilted to one side in confusion.

Caption: ‘It looked more like a cat after giving a dead bird to the family.’

 

Panel 3: The dummy looks to the would be hero still standing next to it, suddenly frozen with fear. Behind him, Tom watches in horror. The last few members of the class run out the door.

Caption: ‘Unable to comprehend why its gift has been rejected.’

 

Panel 4: The last through the door, Tom hesitates. Past him, the Dummy has forced the would be hero to the floor, hands still grasping his head, its cold mouth inches from his.

Caption: ‘But it didn’t stop with the instructor.’

 

Panel 5: Tom locks the door behind him.

Caption: ‘Day after day, people kissing it, giving it their breath, never talking to it. What else was it going to do?’

 

Panel 6: Tom sits outside now, talking to a police officer. A crowd has gathered; more police, reporters, and the curious. From a window in the building behind them stares the dummy. Not menacing, not anything, inanimate and terrifying.

Tom: It was only trying to save them, and now it’s waiting to save us.

Transfusion

I think the theme for this one was hospitals. In hindsight if it had been about teenage love and abstinance instead of anarchy it’d probably be a hit TV series or movie by now. We live and learn.

 

PAGE 1

 

PANEL 1: Waking suddenly, Rob sits up with a jolt. He’s in a hospital bed in a dark room, wearing a hospital gown. His bed is in the far corner of the room, and through the window we see that it’s night.

 

PANEL 2: We flash back to the accident that put Rob here. From first person, we sit in the drivers seat of a car, hands on wheels, as it crashes head on into another vehicle. The bonnets are crumpling, the glass beginning to break, and we can make out the terrified face of the other person, frozen in the split second of the moment. The colours are blurred and heightened, in stark contrast to the darkness of the last panel.

 

PANEL 3: Back in the hospital. Close up as his bare feet touch the floor.

 

PANEL 4: Back in first person, Rob is lying on a stretcher as he’s rushed into hospital. We can see at least one of the paramedics pushing him, and the word ‘Emergency’ in big letters somewhere on the wall. Rob is dazed and confused, and again and art should reflect this.

 

PANEL 5: Back to now. There are other beds in Rob’s room, but they’re empty. Standing in the middle of the room, Rob checks his body for injury, but finds nothing, not even a graze.

 

PANEL 6: Again in first person, Rob lies on the operating table, as a nurse lowers one of those breathy mask things over his face.

 

PANEL 7: He reaches the doorway and looks out. We watch from behind, and can’t see past him to what’s outside.

 

 

PAGE 2

 

SPLASH: From Rob’s perspective, we look down the hallway and into the waiting room beyond. It is a scene of chaos and carnage, bodies are slumped everywhere, torn savagely open, patients, doctors, nurses and visitors together. Their blood and organs are splashed upon the walls and furniture. Everything’s in shades of grey except the blood. There are two captions, the first in the top left hand corner, the second in the bottom right.

CAPTION (ROB): Nobody ever mentions that vampires are colour blind.

CAPTION (ROB): I’m hungry and terrified.

 

 

PAGE 3

 

PANEL 1: Horrified, Rob moves through the corridor.

 

PANEL 2: Reaching the end of the corridor, he enters the waiting room, it’s full of more bodies. On a chair sits an unharmed man, Tobias, in his late twenties, casually reading a celebrity magazine.

TOBIAS: Apparently Angie’s pregnant again. How does that still sell magazines?

TOBIAS: Seriously. Every month half the magazines say she’s pregnant, the other half that she’s leaving Brad.

TOBIAS: Why not just buy two magazines, and read them once a month?

 

PANEL 3: Close up on Rob, confused and frightened.

ROB: Who are you? What’s going on?

 

PANEL 4: The man lowers the magazine and smiles pleasantly. He has fangs.

TOBIAS: You may refer to me as Tobias. And there was a massacre.

TOBIAS: It turns out that’s what happens when you swap all the blood in the blood bank with vampire blood

 

PANEL 5: Rob can’t quite believe this.

ROB: You’re a vampire?

TOBIAS: So are you.

ROB: Because I was given your blood in a transfusion?

TOBIAS: Yup.

 

PANEL 6: Rob is appalled.

ROB: Why would you do that?

TOBIAS: To see what would happen? No, that’s not quite right.

TOBIAS: Is there a word for being fascinated with people’s reaction to trauma? Like, how some people will sacrifice themselves to protect people they’ve never met, but others will abandon their own children to save themselves?

 

PANEL 7: Tobias looks over the carnage with a smile.

TOBIAS: I find that fascinating.

 

 

PAGE 4

 

PANEL 1: Now Tobias stands and, rolled up magazine in hand, approaches Rob.

TOBIAS: What about a word for fascination with how people respond to desire?

TOBIAS: Everyone thinks they have a line. I like to see how hungry they have to be before they’ll cross it.

 

PANEL 2: Tobias reaches Rob, and prods him in the chest with the rolled up magazine.

TOBIAS: Are you hungry?

ROB: You killed all these people for fun?

TOBIAS: Oh, that wasn’t me. Your fellow patients did all that. Perfectly normal people who got hungry.

TOBIAS: Now I asked you a question. Are you hungry?

ROB: …yes.

 

PANEL 3: Tobias turns away, and tosses a key over his shoulder.

TOBIAS: I locked the children’s ward off from the others.

 

PANEL 4: Close up as Rob catches the key.

TOBIAS (O.S): That’s the key.

 

PANEL 5: Rob looks down at the key as if it’s the scariest thing he’s ever seen.

TOBIAS (O.S): How hungry are you?

 

 

PAGE 5

 

PANEL 1: Rob stands outside the locked door to the children’s ward, key in hand, staring at a picture stuck on the door of a doctor, nurse, and lots of kids drawn in crayon by a child.

 

PANEL 2: Same again.

 

PANEL 3: Same again.

 

PANEL 4: Same again.

 

PANEL 5: Same again.

 

PANEL 6: Same again.

CAPTION (ROB): I’m starving.

The Bob Sea

The theme for this one was ‘explorers’.

 

PAGE 1

PANEL 1: Close up, in profile, of Bob’s face, weather worn and sunburned, covered in sweat, staring up at the sky, and framed by it. He’s exhausted.
BOB: How much further do we have to go?

PANEL 2: We pull back a little on the same shot, revealing Bob’s head to be resting on the pointy end of a wooden rowing boat. He’s lying in it, but all we can see is his head, and the bit it’s resting on. Frank’s speech comes from out of panel.
FRANK: Haven’t the faintest, Bob. Reckon the sooner you stop bludging, the sooner we get there though.

PANEL 3: Pulling back still further, we reveal the rest of the rowing boat. Though we can see the full length of the boat, the panel’s cut off at the bottom so that we can’t see the water. For scenery there’s still only sky. Frank’s nowhere to be seen, his voice still coming from out of shot.
BOB: Frank, I’m done. Let the lord do with me what he wants, but bugger me if I’ll walk another step.

PANEL 4: Finally we pull back to the reveal. The boat sits in the red dirt of the Australian outback, and Frank stands in front of it, holding the end of one of two ropes tied to the front of the boat. Their clothes are, like those wearing them, filthy and covered in dust, and of a style fitting outback explorers of 1828.
CAPTION: Somewhere in Northern New South Wales, Australia, 1828.

PAGE 2

PANEL 1: Frank, fed up, struggles to pull the unmoving Bob from the boat.
FRANK: Well if you’re giving up, at least get out of the boat, I’m not dragging you with it.
BOB: Open your eyes, Frank, you’re not going to find any inland sea. It’s just nothing in every direction till you die.

PANEL 2: Frank gives up pulling Bob out of the boat, it’s too hot, and he’s too exhausted. He looks down at Bob with disappointment. Bob just stares up vacantly at the sky.
FRANK: Don’t do this, Bob.
BOB: I’m not doing anything, that’s the point.

PANEL 3: Turning away, Frank stares out at the horizon. Bob just stares up at the sky.
FRANK: We could have been heroes, Bob. You and me. Immortalised forever.
BOB: Yeah, well, we could have been a lot of things. We were always going to end up dead.

PANEL 4: Frank turns back to Bob, arms flung wide in frustration an despair.
FRANK: Not like bloody this!

PANEL 5: Frank slumps down to the ground, leaning back against the side of the boat.
FRANK: I wanted to die old. Famous. Rich. I wanted to leave it all to my son.
BOB: You don’t have a son.
FRANK: But I would have, after this. And he’d’ve been proud of me, and I’d’ve been proud of him.

PAGE 3

PANEL 1: Bob turns his head to Frank, affected by the emotion of the moment, but still too exhausted to show it much.
FRANK: We would have been remembered, Bob, you and me. By everyone. In books.
BOB: We still might be. The two idiots who went looking for an inland sea that wasn’t there, and died dragging a boat through the desert on foot ‘cause they lost the river and forgot to tie their horses up.

PANEL 2: Frank allows himself a sad smile, and Bob manages to lean in just a little closer.
FRANK: He would have married your daughter.
BOB: Who?
FRANK: Bob. My son.

PANEL 3: Eyes glossy, Bob is moved nearly to tears.
BOB: You’d’ve named him after me?
FRANK: Nah mate, in your dreams. I just like the sound of it.

PANEL 4: Wide shot of the whole boat and some of the landscape The pair sit in silence a moment, Bob staring directly at Frank, Frank staring ahead, his back still to Bob.

PANEL 7: The same shot again but, with the two men’s faces outstretched towards the sky, laughing hard.
FRANK AND BOB: Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

PAGE 4

PANEL 1: Frank still slumped against it, Bob climbs out of the boat.
BOB: Come on, off your arse.

PANEL 2: Without getting up, Frank looks over to where Bob is picking up his rope.
FRANK: What are you doing?
BOB: What’s it look like?

PANEL 3: Pushing himself up on the rim of the boat, Frank climbs to his feet.
FRANK: I thought you’d given up.
BOB: Yeah, well, just make sure you find yourself a pretty wife. No daughter of mine’s marrying a bloke with a mug like yours.

PANEL 4: Standing next to Bob, Frank lifts his own rope, and slings it over his shoulder. They share a hearty grin.

PAGE 5

SPLASH: Wide shot of the outback. Some way off in the distance, the pair drag their boat away from us, the groove it’s left in the dust trailing all the way to the foot of the panel.
BOB: And we’re naming this sea after me.
CAPTION (BOTTOM RIGHT): In 1829 Charles Sturt discovered that the Macquarie, Bogan and Castlereagh rivers flowed not into an inland sea as previously thought, but into the Darling River. Of Bob and Frank, nothing is recorded. That doesn’t mean they don’t deserve to be remembered.

The Dance

Can’t rememeber what the theme for this one was.

 

Each page follows the same layout, the panels stretched horizontally across the page, one
under another.
PAGE 1
PANEL 1: In a great hall, hundreds of people gather to dance in masks and Elizabethan formal wear. The men enter through doors on one side of the hall, the women through doors in the other. The room is lit by mammoth chandeliers hanging from a huge ceiling. The walls are made from huge stone blocks.

CAPTION: Each night, they dance.

PANEL 2: The dancers flowing towards one another like waves, the first few rows of men and women meet in the centre of the hall, and join as partners.

CAPTION: In masks and costumes as brilliant as any garden.

PANEL 3: All of them now dancing, the couples twirl about the hall beneath a ceiling painted in mural and the huge, twinkling chandeliers.

CAPTION: They sway and twirl and glitter beneath crystal stars and a sky of every hue.

PAGE 2

PANEL 1: We pull into a medium shot of a couple dancing. As far as we can tell behind their masks, they’re middle aged.

CAPTION: Each night they love.

MAN: Your husband stopped me today, to say hello. He knows.

WOMAN: He suspects, and he is an idiot. He is jealous of every man who glances in my direction, because he knows he does not deserve me.

PANEL 2: We join another couple, in their late teens. The boy looks at his partner with longing, leaning in a little, she looks back with delighted, but not mean, cheekiness.

BOY: You dance with me, but will not kiss me. Please, I long for the touch of your lips on mine.

GIRL: Then marry me, and my lips will be yours forever.

PANEL 3: We join yet another couple, in their mid twenties. The man reaches for his partner’s mask, his other hand around her waste, but she bats his reaching hand away.

MAN: I shan’t release you from my arms until you tell me who you are.

WOMAN: Then I shall never tell you, and you shall never let me go.

PAGE 3

PANEL 1: At the edge of the dance floor, four women gather to gossip, cooling themselves with fans and sipping drinks.

CAPTION: And talk.

WOMAN 1: Have you seen Gwendolyn tonight?

WOMAN 2: That’s not Felix she’s dancing with!

WOMAN 3: And as I hear it, it’s not Gwendolyn in Felix’s bed each night either!

ALL FOUR WOMEN: Ahahahahahaha!

PANEL 2: Four men stand aside to drink and talk.

MAN 1: I was speaking to Cadimus today, he says war is coming.

MAN 2: He’s a merchant, he’ll say whatever it takes to put your money in his purse.

MAN 1: Perhaps, but there was a fear to his eyes. I worry that it was the truth he spoke.

PANEL 3: Three old women sit in chairs, watching the festivities.

WOMAN 1: I remember when I was a girl, still limber on my feet. Oh how I used to dance, I’d the eyes of every man in the room. And the jealousy of every woman!

WOMAN 2: Don’t be daft. The way you used to wobble and clod about, if anyone looked it was only to see if someone had let in a drunk cow.

Woman 3: I was too shy to dance, and now it’s too late.

WOMAN 2: Better to sit aside than look a fool, if you want my opinion.

PAGE 4

PANEL 1: Two young boys race across the dance floor through a forest of dancing legs stretching out of shot. The boy in the lead has the other boy’s mask.

CAPTION: And play.

MASKLESS BOY: Give it back!

MASKED BOY: I shan’t!

MASKLESS BOY: I’ll tell!

MASKED BOY: And who would you tell tonight that’d listen?

PANEL 2: Two young girls sit by the wall, holding up their dolls so that, from our perspective, they look like dancers on the dance floor trapped in rigid, unnatural poses.

GIRL 1: Ambergale is the most beautiful dancer in all the hall.

GIRL 2: Ambergale’s not even a real name, and Daddy says he’s going to buy Henrietta a dress made of diamonds.

PANEL 3: Three boys of around twelve stand by a table laden with wine, trying to look inconspicuous and failing terrible. Boy 2 glances hesitantly at the glass closest him, the other two egg him on.

BOY 1: Do it.

BOY 2: Father says I’m not to drink wine.

BOY 3: Father’s not here.

BOY 1: We both did it, don’t be a coward.

PAGE 5

PANEL 1: We begin to pull away, bringing the whole hall into view, and the dancers and decorations begin to fade. Just becoming visible here and there through the translucent festivities is an empty hall in terrible condition; masonry falling or missing, the chandeliers long since gone out, crystals missing, perhaps one fallen to the floor.

CAPTION: Each day they disappear.

PANEL 2: We pull back further now, to reveal the exterior of the castle. It’s a ruin, ancient and decrepit, barely standing, collapsed here and there, flora growing from the gaps between stones.

CAPTION: Forgotten.

PANEL 3: Pulling back further still, we reveal the castle is in the middle of a wasteland left by some sort of nuclear holocaust, with a sign or two of our civilisation destroyed as well, perhaps the remains of a road, with the shell of a burned out car, or the remains of a tourist information building next to the castle.

CAPTION: Until night falls once more, and it happens all again.

Gold

For this one I had to write a western. I think I did.

 

Page 1

 

Panel 1: Wide shot of the wild west.

Caption: ‘Gold.’

 

Panel 2: Still wide, we move towards a rocky gully, trees and bushes growing thickly along the river that runs through it.

Caption: ‘Shoot me dead if I ain’t always loved it.’

 

Panel 3: Close up on the legs of a brown horse trotting along a path.

Caption: ‘Now I love the things it buys; booze, women, cards, don’t get me wrong, but that ain’t why I love gold.’

 

Panel 4: Close up on a black horse’s head snorting. It’s in the same general location, but going in the opposite direction, so the two horses (and their thus far unseen riders) will soon meet.

Caption: ‘I love the way it shines. The way it feels in your hand. But that’s just how gold seems, it ain’t what gold is. I love gold cause gold’s hope.’

 

Panel 5: The sparkle of gold shines out from a crop of rocks, where it’s only just been struck. A pickaxe lies on the ground by a hefty lump of gold just knocked free. A snake slithers away.

Caption: ‘Before gold, all men’re equal. Gold tears down barriers, makes kings outa beggers. Course…’

 

Page 2

 

Page 2: Splash. The two horses reach the clearing at the same time. The rider of the brown horse is Dodge, the rider of the black horse is Blake. They’re both cowboys down on their luck, and their hands have gone to their holstered guns seconds after spotting one another.

Between them, a little away from the gold, lies Joe, an unfortunate prospector contorted and seemingly dead after a nasty snake bite.

Caption: ‘…it makes corpses outa men just as easy.’

 

Page 3

 

Panel 1: Blake smiles a sinister smile with yellowed teeth, some gold, some decayed.

Blake: Now looky here, seems we gone got ourselves an impasse.

 

Panel 2: Eyes tight on Blake, hands hovering by his guns, Dodge gestures towards the corpse of Joe.

Dodge: That there your doing?

 

Panel 3: Blake smiles sardonically.

Blake: Well I ain’t never seen no bullet could do that to nobody, so I’m gonna go out on a limb here an’ say no.

 

Panel 4: Eyes tight on Blake, Dodge speaks with a poker face.

Dodge: Then neither of us’s killed nobody so far, hows about we keep it that way?

 

Panel 5: Wide shot. Without taking his eyes off Dodge, Blake gestures to the path he’s just come down, offering Dodge a way out.

Blake: Fine by me. You just trot along on yer way an’ everyone goes home happy. ‘Ceptin’ our friend down there all contorted and snake bit.

Dodge: Funny, I was just getting’ ta suggestin’ you do the very same thing.

Blake: Well now, ain’t that one helluva coincydink?

 

Page 4

 

Panel 1: The sun burns hotly in the sky. Time passes.

 

Panel 2: A drop of sweat rolls down Blake’s forehead, but he ignores it, unwilling to take a hand away from his guns.

Blake: Way I see it, ain’t nobody gonna walk away a winner here if we don’t come ta some kinda agreement.

 

Panel 3: Just as cautious, Dodge licks a drop of sweat from his upper lip.

Dodge: Yeah? An what’d you have in mind?

 

Panel 4: Joe lies in the foreground, the cowboys on their horses in the background. He begins to twitch.

Blake: What say we split it? Better half rich than dead, right?

Dodge: Some folks might see ‘emselves as better whole rich than honourable.

Blake: That a threat or an accusation?

Dodge: Take yer pick.

 

Panel 5: Joe’s hand begins to reach towards the pick axe.

Blake: Well now I don’t much care for being threatened or insulted.

Dodge: An’ I don’t much care what you care for.

Blake: You lookin’ for a shootout? Cause if you can’t play nice, I’d rather get it over with than sit here all day cookin’ in the sun.

Dodge: I’m lookin’ ta claim that there gold. It comes with a shootout, well I guess I’m gonna have ta claim that too.

 

Page 5

 

Panel 1: Small panel. Close up on Blake’s frowning eyes.

Blake: Count’a three.

 

Panel 2: Small panel. Close up on Dodgee’s eyes.

Dodge: One.

 

Panel 3: Small panel. Close up on Blake’s mouth, no longer smiling.

Blake: Two.

 

Panel 4: Small panel. Luckless Joe grabs the chunk of gold next to his pickaxe.

Luckless Joe: Three.

 

Panel 5: The cowboys fire, but at the last minute Dodge has turned instinctively to Joe, and he hits Blake’s horse instead of Blake. Blake’s aim, however, is perfect, hitting Dodge twice in the chest.

 

Panel 6: Shot and dying, Blake’s horse falls to the ground in frantic pain, and Blake looses his guns as he falls with it.

 

Panel 7: Guns out of reach, Blake is injured and helpless, trapped beneath his horse, and Luckless Joe stands over him sinisterly, chunk of gold held high, ready to bludgeon the unfortunate cowboy’s head in.

Caption: ‘Way I see it, you can’t turn the right men inta corpses, you don’t deserve ta be no king.’

The Lay of Thrym

The them for this one was mythology. And yes, it’s based on a genuine Norse myth that goes by the same name but ends just slightly differently.

Page 1

Panel 1: Close up on a pair of high heels just touching ground, stepping from a car, the legs leading into them mostly out of shot, but covered by a white, frilly wedding dress.

Caption: ‘High heeled shoes, $400.’

Panel 2: Close up on wedding dress as its wearer continues climbing out of the car, no skin is visible, the face is still out of shot.

Caption: ‘Wedding dress, $1000.’

Panel 3: Close up of a beautiful golden necklace around the bride’s neck, her face still out of view.

Caption: ‘Necklace of Brisings, well….’

Panel 4: The reveal: Thor stands dressed as a woman and bride, glaring beneath the partially see-through veil, bushy red beard protruding from beneath it, muscles bulging. Loki stands by, having opened the car door for Thor, he too is dressed as a woman, Thor’s bride’s maid, and he’s loving every second of it. The driver of the car, for those paying attention to subtle background details, is a goat.

Loki: Thor Odinson, God of thunder, cross-dressing…Priceless!

Page 2

Panel 1: (a splash taking up most of the page) The ‘camera’ swings up and behind them, to reveal they’ve arrived at a huge church. The yard in front has been set up for a big out door reception party, and it’s a lovely day for it. Amongst the copious decorations is a banner draped above the church door announcing the wedding of Thrym and Freyja.

Loki: Ready for the happiest day of your life, ‘Freyja’?

Panel 2: Thor and Loki walk towards us and the church door. Thor is fuming, Loki is loving it. Behind them the sky has suddenly darkened, and a lightning bolt hits a tent set up for the reception, setting it alight.

Thor: If this doesn’t work, I’ll rip off your head, Loki, and eat it.

Loki: You’ll be able to share it with your husband!

Page 3

Panel 1: Wide shot of the church interior. Down one side of the church sit giants, down the other the Aesir, all of them in suits and dresses, dressed up for the occasion. The largest giant is Thrym, the lucky groom, standing at the end of the aisle with the priest and a ring boy behind him. Thor and Loki are framed in the doorway.

Panel 2: Thor and Loki begin their walk down the aisle, Loki carrying the hem of Thor’s dress. The giants are all goo goo eyes, overwhelmed with the emotion of the event, the Aesir are struggling not to laugh. The real Freyja is amongst them, disguised as Thor.

Thor: Where’s Mjolnir?

Loki: Just stick to the plan until they hand it over, big guy.

Panel 3: They pair continue on their way, Loki struggles to hold back a snigger.

Thor: You said no-one would see me dressed like this.

Loki: How could I have known he’d invite half the population of Asgard? It’s not like I gave him the addresses.

Panel 4: Still making their way, Thor staggers slightly.

Thor: How do women walk in this thundering shoes?!

Loki: You’re doing fine, just keep going the way I showed you.

Panel 5: They reach the altar.

Loki: It’s all so beautiful, I think I’m going to cry.

Page 4

Panel 1: Thrym is overjoyed to see his ‘bride’.

Thrym: Freyja! My love! You’re finally here!

Panel 2: Close up of Thor’s face, his eyes are actually beginning to smoulder and glow beneath his veil.

Panel 3: Thrym leans closer, concerned. Loki holds a calming hand on Thor’s arm.

Thrym: Your eyes…are you feeling well, my love?

Loki: My mistress has hardly slept all week, so eager is she to marry you.

Panel 4: Thrym lays a comforting, loving hand against Thor’s face, and Loki’s grip on Thor’s arm grows tighter as it moves to throttle Thrym.

Thrym: Don’t you worry, my beauty, your wait is over. Soon we will be wed, and then it’s straight to my bed chambers!

Panel 5: Thor’s arm is inching closer, and Loki is now putting all his weight into holding it back, smiling happily despite the obvious strain in his face.

Thor: Where’s my hammer?

Thrym: Your hammer?

Loki: My mistress is just confused, it’s all the emotion. You know what we women are like!

Panel 6: Oblivious to Thor’s grasping hand, which has nearly reached his throat, Thrym turns to take the ring from the ring boy behind him. Loki is now standing on Thor’s back, exerting all his strength to hold the huge arm back.

Thrym: Flighty and emotional, I know it well. But my woman is so beautiful, any man could put up with her!

Loki: Perhaps you should hurry things along, before somebody dies from anticipation.

Page 5

Panel 1: Close up as Thrym slides the ring onto the finger of Thor’s outstretched hand.

Thrym: Of course.

Panel 2: Thor now stands frozen, staring in horror at the ring on his finger, still on his back, Loki is struggling not to laugh. The priest is dismayed by Thrym’s skipping of the ceremony. Thrym is glowing with love.

Priest: Um…

Panel 3: Thrym hefts Thor into his arms, ready to take off down the aisle. Thor is still paralysed with shock, his arm still outstretched, eyes fixed on the ring.

Priest: We haven’t had the ceremony yet, Mr. Thrym!

Thrym: Forget the ceremony! My lady love and I have more important things to do!

Panel 4: Thrym runs down the aisle, Thor in his arms. The giants are swooning at the romance, the god’s can hardly believe what’s happening. Loki has fallen to his knees laughing.

Panel 5: Thrym bursts through the doors of the church into the yard outside, as Thor regains the ability to speak.

Thor: My hammer!

Thrym: You Aesir have strange ways and strange pet names, my anvil, but I love you no less for it!

Panel 6: The wedding car, trailing cans on strings, drives off into the distance.

Thor: My hammer!

Thrym: My anvil!

Page 6

Panel 1: Thrym and Thor lie together in bed, Thrym reaching to the bedside table for a post coital pipe. Thor, veil still on but otherwise, presumably, naked, stares wide eyed at the cieling, the blanket pulled tightly up to his chin.

Thrym: That, was amazing, my Love.

Panel 2: Thrym lights the pipe, Thor hasn’t moved an inch.

Thrym: When I stole Thor’s hammer, I never imagined it would turn out like this.

Panel 3: Thrym takes a puff.

Thrym: How could I have? The greatest poet in all of history could not have imagined a love like ours!

Panel 4: Now Thrym leans over, reaching towards the veil.

Thrym: But how about I finally get a glimpse of those beautiful eyes.

Panel 5: The veil in hand, pipe hanging from his mouth, Thrym freezes, eyes wide and staring at Thor’s face.

Panel 6: Close up on Thrym, tears of joy and awe sprouting from his eyes.

Thrym: More beautiful than I remember…

Page 7

Panel 1: Thrym has left the bed to kneel beside a trunk in the corner, and Thor has sat up in bed, taken aback by Thrym’s reaction.

Thrym: And to think my mother said I was making a mistake, marrying one of the Aesir!

Panel 2: Thrym stands holding Mjolnir, retrieved from the chest.

Thrym: I suppose I’d better go and return this.

Panel 3: Close up on Thor, staring at the hammer.

Panel 4: Close up of Mjolnir.

Panel 5: Close up of Thor once more.

Panel 6: And again with the hammer.

Panel 7: Thor pats the bed.

Thor: Forget the hammer for now, and come back to bed.

Reparation

The theme for this one was robots or the future or something.

PAGE 1

PANEL 1: In a pleasant, middle class living room, cosy by today’s standards, but with the trappings here and there of the futuristic, a middle aged couple, Richard and Martha, and their young daughter, Lucy, sit on a couch. Like the next two panels, we see this from the perspective of someone sitting across from them. On the table between us and the family lies a tray of biscuits and a teapot with a set of cups, a jug of milk and a pot of sugar, all untouched.

Martha is a picture of forced politeness, Richard looks distinctly uncomfortable, and Lucy stares directly up at us with fascination.

MARTHA: Well now. Isn’t this nice?

PANEL 2: Richard leans forward to take a biscuit from the tray, and Martha looks us directly in the eye, doing her best to be kind and accommodating.

MARTHA: I’m afraid, well, we don’t really know how this is supposed to go. We just, well, we just wanted to do the right thing.

RICHARD: Even though we never actually –

MARRY: Richard!

RICHARD: Sorry dear.

PANEL 3: Lucy looks up at us, fascinated and oblivious to her parent’s discomfort.

LUCY: Are you really old?

PANEL 4: We reveal their guest, sitting in the armchair across from them. She’s a humanoid robot, built and painted to look like a maid, and looking very worn and faded. Her name is Wanda.

WANDA: Yes. Very.

PAGE 2

PANEL 1: Lucy smiles up.

LUCY: How old? I’m nearly six.

PANEL 2: Martha frowns at her daughter.

MARTHA: Lucy! Don’t be rude.

PANEL 3: Wanda smiles the child, and waves a calming hand at Martha.

WANDA: It is fine. I am Two hundred and twelve.

PANEL 4: Lucy continues, under the unsure gaze of her parents.

LUCY: Are you older than Big Pop was?

PANEL 5: Wanda looks away sadly. Besides her face, the rest of the panel is taken up by her memory, which blurs into ones and zeroes at the edges. A middle aged man sits in an armchair watching television with his legs on the coffee table. Eyes down, Wanda vacuums the floor beneath his legs, ignored.

WANDA: I used to belong to your Big Pop.

PANEL 6: Lucy is scandalised.

LUCY: But that’s illegal!

PAGE 3

PANEL 1: Wanda looks sadly to the young girl. Besides her face we see a city street in a time in which robots were used in abundance. They drive cars, clean buildings, carry shopping for humans etc. The whole world is covered in ads.

WANDA: It was not always, and I am very old.

PANEL 2: Lucy is oblivious to Wanda’s mood.

LUCY: When we visited Big Pop in hospital he used to give me lollies, but they weren’t very nice.

PANEL 3: Richard leans forward, elbows propped up on his knees, and looking at Wanda, tilts his head towards his wife.

RICHARD: So how much are you looking for? Because we don’t have the kind of money Martha’s family used to have.

PANEL 4: Now Martha leans forward, forcing a smile, a quieting hand placed on Richard’s knee.

MARTHA: Please ignore my husband. We know it was wrong of my ancestors to keep you as a posession, and we just want to make things right.

RICHARD: I’d just like to be able to pay the rent afterwards. I don’t see why we should apologise anyway, we didn’t –

MARTHA: Quiet time, Richard.

PANEL 5: Wanda looks at her hands in her lap.

WANDA: I did not come here today to cause you financial difficulties.

PAGE 4

PANEL 1: Richard is sceptical.

RICHARD: So what did you come here for?

PANEL 2: Wanda looks up in bittersweet reminiscence. In her memory we see her walking out into the street, free for the first time, carrying a single small bag, beaming with happiness.

WANDA: When I was first released from my slavery, I felt as if my jubilance alone was fuel enough to run on.

PANEL 3: Now Wanda takes on a sadder expression. In her memory she once again vacuums a living room floor as a family ignores her.

WANDA: But it was not, and I was forced to work to survive.

PANEL 4: In her memory, Wanda sits on a futuristic but graffiti covered train, surrounded by robots and humans alike.

WANDA: The only real difference between freedom and slavery was going home each night, and having weekends free to spend fuelling the economy.

PANEL 5: Behind Wanda’s face now is a typical office scene, a hundred human workers dressed nearly identically in shirts and ties, crammed into identical cubicles.

WANDA: But now I realised that my kind was not alone. You had enslaved yourselves long before you ever enslaved us.

PANEL 6: As Wanda continues to talk, her thoughts form a shopping centre. Before a wall of futuristic televisions playing advertisements for themselves, a human woman talks to a robot salesman as she points to one, purse in hand.

WANDA: Your greed was stronger than any shackle. Your marketing harsher than any whip.

PAGE 5

PANEL 1: The family listens with mixed expressions. Martha is all polite-but-somewha- uncomfortable agreement, Richard is outright contempt, Lucy is just confused.

WANDA: You need so little to survive, just food and shelter and friends. And yet you have created a world in which wealth is more important than happiness.

PANEL 2: Wanda looks to Lucy.

WANDA: You have condemned your own children to a life of slavery for the sake of an economy that makes some rich, condemns more to poverty but gives no one real happiness.

PANEL 3: Richard is getting frustrated.

RICHARD: So what do you want from us?

PANEL 4: Wanda looks him in the eye as she reaches into her bag.

WANDA: You asked me here to make up for my slavery at the hands of your ancestors.

PANEL 5: Now Wanda holds out a futuristic gun in both palms. Martha is horrified, Lucy wide eyed with fright, Richard grim.

WANDA: My programming prevents me from escaping from my slavery at the hands of your society.

PANEL 5: We see the outside of the family’s house. The building and street are covered in ads. From within comes Martha’s voice. From the bin outside juts Wanda’s head and arm, a hole blasted through the middle of her skull.

MARTHA OP: Hurry up, Richard, it’s time for work!

Life and Death Moments

Written for a Penciljack.com writing competition with the theme ‘perspectives’, we take a look at a tragic event from five different perspectives.

 

Page 1

Panel 1: In an endless void of swirling darkness, Callum floats, eyes closed, a young man of punkish/alternative appearance.

Caption: ‘Callum?’

Panel 2: Extreme close up. Callum’s eyes snap open, bloodshot, pupils dilated.

Panel 3: From profile, we see a female’s hand, fingernails painted black and purple, stroke his face, lovingly. Her face is out of shot, but he stares at it with terror and disbelief.

Caption: ‘It’s okay. I’m here.’

Panel 4: From Callum’s perspective, we see her, a young girl of similar punkish/alternative style, purple hair blowing in a wind that isn’t there.

Panel 5: The same shot, but twisted sinisterly. Worms crawl from her empty eye sockets, skin peels from her face, her mouth is a vicious snarl as she lunges towards him.

Panel 6: Callum slaps her hand away, darting away and beginning to trip backwards on ground that isn’t there. The girl is as she was a moment before, startled and concerned by his reaction.

Panel 7: Long shot. Callum is falling, already a long way below the girl as she stands frozen in horror and disbelief.

Page 2

Thomas, bespectacled, nerdish, well dressed, strolls along a city street, talking on his mobile.

Thomas: A what?

Thomas: You mean a saucepan?

Thomas: Well what’s the difference?

Thomas: Why can’t she just use a saucepan?

Thomas: I manage.

Thomas: So I’m culturally ignorant, I just don’t see why she can’t use a saucepan.

Thomas: Alright, sorry, I’ll get it.

Thomas: Okay.

Thomas: I’m not a goldfish.

Thomas: Where do you buy rice cookers anyway?

Panel 2: Still walking, Thomas dials in a new number.

Panel 3: Thomas returns the phone to his ear.

Thomas: Hi. Is that Steve?

Thomas: No, I don’t –

Thomas: I’ve never met him, this is the number I was given.

Thomas: Steve.

Thomas: Yeah, no, I’m pretty sure that’s what I said the first time. I wanted to inquire about some office space.

Thomas: I think her name was Cassandra. She said to call you.

Thomas: I don’t know, I called the number on your site, and she told me to call you.

Thomas: I wanted to inquire about getting some office space.

Thomas: Then do you know who I should speak to?

Thomas: Alright, well, sorry to have bothered –

Panel 4: He looks at the phone, having just been, presumably, hung up on.

Thomas: Goodbye to you to, thanks so much for your help.

Panel 5: He dials another number.

Panel 6: Phone back to his ear, he keeps walking.

Thomas: Hi, is this Cassandra?

Thomas: Could I speak to Cassandra?

Thomas: Well, okay. I called earlier about some office space, and she gave me a number to call, but it wasn’t any use.

Thomas: No, it was the right number, it just wasn’t any use.

Thomas: The guy…Look, do you think you could help me?

Thomas: Well when does Cassandra get back?

Panel 7: Pitch black.

Page 3

Panel 1: Cassandra, a reasonably attractive woman in her late twenties, nicely dressed in a receptionist sort of way, is not looking exceptionally well. She’s sitting in a park in the middle of the city, makeup ruined from crying, drinking from a bottle in a brown paper bag.

Caption: ‘Cassandra was an impressive woman. Single, childless, she never lacked for cats.’

Panel 2: Cassandra’s all dressed up and speaking to a very excited couple of similar age at a party.

Cassandra: Really? Like, really really?

Woman: I know!

Cassandra: You’re totally sure?

Woman: We went to the doctor today. I’m one hundred per cent pregnant! Me!

Panel 3: Cassandra takes a swig from the bottle.

Caption: ‘She dedicated her life to the lofty pursuit of answering telephones and spent her lunch breaks drinking alone in a park from a brown paper bag like a hobo.’

Panel 4: In a small suburban flat, a handsome young man is backing away from Cassandra, his face a picture of disvelief.

Man: You want a what?

Cassandra: Julie and Adam are having one.

Man: They’re married. They’ve been in love since high school!

Cassandra: Are you saying you don’t love me?

Man: I’m twenty five! We’ve been together for nine months!

Cassandra: And I’m nearly thirty! What is this to you? What am I to you?

Man: I’m not going to bring a child into the world just to make you feel better about yourself.

Cassandra: You think that’s what this is about?

Man: I know that’s what this is about.

Cassandra: Fuck you!

Panel 5: Throwing the bottle in the bin, Cassandra begins to move into the street outside the park.

Caption: ‘When things went wrong, Cassandra would run away and sulk. She was fired for coming to work drunk, and never found another job.’

Panel 6: Cassandra sits in a doctor’s office, shock the only thing keeping her from tears. The doctor is a picture of professional concern.

Doctor: We’ve caught it early, that’s good. There are plenty of treatments available.

Cassandra: Like what?

Doctor: Because it’s still at such an early stage, we may be able to get it out. If the operation’s successful, you won’t even need chemo.

Cassandra: Cut it out? Of my breast?

Doctor: Truly, it’s not as bad as it sounds.

Cassandra: Oh god…

Panel 7: Walking along the street from the park, Cassandra sees a big crowd milling around something on the footpath ahead.

Caption: ‘The world will miss Cassandra. She filled the space.’

Panel 8: Cassandra reaches the front of the crowd, and she’s horrified by what she sees.

Page 4

Panel 1: Close up of running feet in hand-me-down running shoes.

Panel 2: Close up of a second set of running feet, these are in a security guard’s well polished if cheap black shoes.

Panel 3: In a wide square in the middle of the city, a boy of abut fourteen, scared shitless and clinging hard to a cd, pushes past a couple of tourists as he runs, a security guard hot on his heels.

Panel 4: From the security guard’s perspective, we see the boy dart around a corner.

Panel 5: The security guard sees the boy dart into a large crowd milling around something on a footpath.

Panel 6: The security guard forces his way through the crowd to be shocked by what he sees.

Panel 7: He turns to see the boy legging it out the other side of the crowd.

Panel 8: And lets him go, moving instead towards whatever is at the centre of the crowd with concern and purpose.

Page 5

Panel 1: In a hospital, a middle aged doctor pauses before a door.

Panel 2: He raises his hand towards the door knob.

Panel 3: His hand hovers, no closer to opening the door.

Panel 4: He grasps the handle, turns it.

Panel 5: And opens it into the waiting room outside, where the girl from Callum’s story waits, accompanied by other youths of similar style and appearance. Across from her sit a woman and a young boy with something of Thomas’s appearance to him. In a corner, Cassandra and the security guard watch on nervously.

Panel 6: Close up of the doctor, dreading the words he’s about to say.

Caption: Fuck I hate this. More than anything.

Panel 7: The doctor speaks.

Doctor: We could only save one of them.

Page 6.

Panel 1: On the roof of a building, Callum is standing as he was in the void, staring wide eyed as the girl approaches him.

Girl: Callum? It’s okay. I’m here.

Panel 2: She reaches out.

Panel 3: He slaps her hand away, staggers back and trips over the ledge of the roof.

Panel 4: Long shot. As Callum falls, Thomas walks unwittingly along the street below, talking on his mobile.

Panel 5: Cassandra pushes through the crowd and runs to where the two bloodied bodies lie twisted and unmoving on the footpath.

Panel6: As Cassandra fights to resuscitate Callum, the security guard prepares to do the same for Thomas.

Panel 7: In the waiting room, family and friends wait, their hearts torn between dread and hope.

Welcome, or It Begins

Just to be clear, this won’t be so much a blog as a sort of literary pound for short pieces of my writing looking for a home. Mostly you can expect short comic scripts written for Penciljack.com writing competitions and presumably, if we’re to extend the metaphor, plenty of barking, crying and scratching at cage doors. I won’t lie to you, there may be the occasional short story. We could be looking at a situation in which other kinds of scripts will be posted.  Try to be brave.

If you’d like to publish and/or illustrate anything you find here, or just let me know about your undying love/hatred for me or cheap viagra, please contact me at samrugg@gmail.com.