In a word; motivation.  In another word; depression.  I started this project with two people because I needed a bit of support and competition to make sure I stayed on track.  But with Matt falling off the wagon and me going on one of my periodic downturns, everything just ground to a halt.  If I were writing for money, I’d have the motivation to put bread on my table and an editor giving me pointed looks.  As it is, it’s all too easy to get out of the habit and just think “why bother”?

But this project is not dead.  I’ve dragged myself out of my hole and am reevaluating things.  Firstly the timeframe.  Writing a script every 2 weeks might have been overambitious, given that I’m juggling a full time job and attempting a social life.   From now we’ll be moving to a schedule where a script is posted every two weeks, allowing us a month to actually write them.   I DID manage to stick to the old schedule for a while, but long term it might be too much (if not for me then for my co-contributor).

Which brings me to my second point.  Matt’s keen on the project  but I don’t think he can keep up. He’s got too many things on his plate as it is, and I need that other person to make me say “oh I can’t let them down / let them one-up me”.  So Matt’s going to drop to an occasional contributor, posting a script whenever he feels like it, and Aaron Caskey will be taking over regular script posting duties.

I still have a million things I want to write about, so this project isn’t going away.  Next script will be posted by Aaron on the 1st of June.

No related posts.

No related posts.

In my mind, it was not a success, for the simple reason that the quality of both the art and the scripts ran the range from “good” to “wouldn’t use to wipe ass with”, and most of them were overly wordy or overly dramatic or just plain sucked. I think it’s still going, but I haven’t bothered to check.

I’m not going to say my two contributions to the project (only one of which was ever finished) were that great - in particular my script about Ravage was too wordy by half - but I’d also like to think that they were top tier at least. The challenge of trying to squeeze a bit of story and a lot of characterisation into one page was also fun.

So included here are my Mosaic scripts, exploring the characters of Beast Wars Ravage and Octopunch respectively. Yes, it’s massively nerdy, but it’s comics. What do you expect? As a bonus I’ve also included the art for the Ravage piece, by the ever talented Heather O’Connell.

All characters are (c) Hasbro

***********************

RAVAGE

aka; “Obedience”

PANEL ONE:

CU Ravage’s hand holding a small holgram projector, which displays the head of BW MEGATRON, pre-earth form (ref: Botcon 06 BW Megatron)

RAVAGE: He calls himself MEGATRON?

PANEL TWO: SAME SIZE AS PANEL ONE

CU Ravage’s hand, same framing as previous, except he has clenched his fist in anger, destroying the holo-projector.

FX: CRUNCH!

PANEL THREE: INT. PREDACON COMMAND STATION

Ravage meeing with member of Tripredacus council (Seaclamp, ref http://www.bwtf.com/bw/tvshow/cc/tripredacus/seaclamp.gif Best to stick to show design, with additional details from toy if needed, ref http://www.tfu.info/1997/Predacon/SeaClamp/seaclamp.htm). They are on board the Predacon command station. Similar vibe to the room where Luke faces the Emperor in Return of the Jedi.

RAVAGE: HAH. He is no Megatron. I watched the REAL Megatron die.

SEACLAMP: And you’ll watch THIS one die as well. He is a rogue element with his own AGENDA, a disruption to our PLANS. The time of the Decepticons is over. The last thing we need at this crucial juncture is another MEGATRON fanning the flames.

PANEL FOUR:

Ravage bows to Sea clamp.

RAVAGE: It shall be done.

PANEL FIVE:

CU Ravage’s face, still bowing.. but he’s got an ugly snarl on his face, clearly insulted by Seaclamp’s claim that the Decepticons are now mere relics of the past, best to be forgotten.

PANEL SIX: EXT. CYBERTRON, BATTLEFIELD

G1 RAVAGE sits sadly atop the body of G1 SOUNDWAVE, who has been almost obliterated. Corpses litter the battlefield, Autobot and Decepticon. It looks like Ravage is the only one left alive. This is a flashback to the end of the Great War.

CAPTION: The time of the Decepticons…

PANEL SEVEN: INT. PREDACON COMMAND STATION, HALLWAY

Ravage is walking towards the reader, a snarl on his face, still angry at Sea Clamp

CAPTION: …is OVER.

RAVAGE: FEH. “PREDACONS”… they do not deserve the name. Surrendering to the MAXIMALS, plotting petty revenge and power games.. they forget that we were once CONQUERERS! RULERS of Cybertron!

PANEL EIGHT: INT. PREDACON COMMAND STATION, LANDING BAY

Long shot of RAVAGE from behind, walking towards his ship

RAVAGE: They are nothing but squabbling PROTOFORMS without a powerful LEADER. Oh, the Predacons will have their MOMENT, but their victory will be FLEETING, their empire a hollow SHELL… while WE will remain Decepticons…

PANEL NINE: EXT. PREDACON COMMAND STATION, SPACE

Ravage’s ship flies away from the station

CAPTION: FOREVER!

END

Obedience

***********************

OCTOPUNCH

aka; “Sunken Treasure”

PANEL ONE:

Underwater.

Long shot of OCTOPUNCH (http://www.tfu.info/1989/Decepticon/Octopunch/octopunch.htm), in all his ugly diver/octopus pretender shell glory.  He’s slowly wading along the murky seabed of an alien planet, a stream of bubbles trickles from him, silt clouding in the water from his footsteps.

CAPTION: I’ve done some pretty slaggin’ stupid things in my time.

PANEL TWO:

Even longer shot of Our Hero Octopunch, now a tiny figure dwarfed by the immensity of the sea… and by the huge techno-organic squid monster that he’s trudging towards! What are you DOING Octopunch, you rapscallion!  The huge squid beast appears to be making its lair inside a crashed + sunken spaceship.

For bonus points, make the squid beast look like a bit like Takotank - http://www.tfu.info/1998/Cybertron/Ikard/takotank.jpg

CAPTION: But THIS?

CAPTION: This is NOTHING.

PANEL THREE:

Exterior, rocky, alien shore.

Group shot of STRANGLEHOLD (http://www.botchthecrab.com/archive/decepticon/1989/stranglehold.jpg), NEEDLENOSE (http://www.botchthecrab.com/archive/decepticon/1988/needlenose.jpg) and SNARLER (http://www.botchthecrab.com/archive/decepticon/1988/snarler.jpg) lounging around waiting for Octopunch to come back.  It’s up to you whether or not the pretenders are their shells, though it might look a bit weird with Needlenose)

NEEDLENOSE: What’s TAKING Octopunch so LONG?

SNARLER: 20 Credits says he’s DEAD.

STRANGLEHOLD: You’re ON.

PANEL FOUR:

Underwater.

ACTION!  Octopunch is fighting the HIDEOUS UNDERSEA MONSTER!  Tentacles! Lasers! Bubbles! He’s not exactly winning, but he’s not losing either.

CAPTION:  I am SO dead.

OCTOPUNCH: *Random string of symbols that clearly represent a burst of swearing*

CAPTION: Or I WOULD be…

PANEL FIVE:

Interior, runined spacecraft.  It’s dark in here, heavy shadows.  The battle outside can be seen through a tear in the hull.

Long on Octopunch’s INTERIOR ROBOT, in CRAB MODE.  He’s scuttling along looking pleased with himself, as much as a robotic crab can.

CAPTION: …If I wasn’t remotely controlling my PRETENDER SHELL to distract big dumb and UGLY out there.

OCTOPUNCH: *The same string of profanity symbols as in panel five*

CAPTION: (Still hurts like a slaggin’ glitch though)

PANEL SIX:

Interior, deeper inside the runied spacecraft.

From slightly above and behind Octopunch, so we can just see his head, shoulders and claws. Deactivated corpses are strewn about, but the focus is on the AUTOBOT POWER CORE, a cool looking object the size of a small barrel.  There’s also some gem-like crystals lying in the debris on the floor.

CAPTION: Ahh.. HERE we go. One experimental Autobot POWER CORE…

PANEL SEVEN:

Interior, as panel six.

Small panel, circular?  CU of Octopunch’s claw holding one of the gem-like crystals.

CAPTION: …Plus a little BONUS for ME.

OCTOPUNCH: Heh heh heh.

PANEL EIGHT:

Exterior, the shore.

Long on Octopunch, now in ROBOT MODE standing beside his Pretender Shell, backs to the sea. Both have obviously just walked from the water.  The Shell is damaged from the fight with the squid, but it’s holding the AUTOBOT POWER CORE.  Both have bits of seaweed etc. clinging to them.  Octopunch is looking extremely pleased with himself as he talks, the Pretender Shell looms silent and stoic.

OCTOPUNCH:  …Then all I had to do was stick a couple of torpedos up its tail pipe, and BAM.

PANEL NINE:

Exterior, as Eight

Stranglehold, Needlenose and Snarler are staring directly out of frame, looks of surprise and horror on their faces.

CAPTION: I can see the AWE and ADMIRATION on their stupid faceplates.

PANEL TEN:

Exterior, as Eight

Similar framing to Eight, except focused on Octopunch’s Inner Robot (Pretender shell is not in frame).  He’s smugly smiling, unaware that the squid beast he’s just claimed to have defeated is rising from the sea behind him, an EXTREMELY angry expression on its monsterous face.

CAPTION:  What a bunch of SUCKERS.

END.

No related posts.

Download "London Calling - issue 2" as .pdf

PAGE 1

PANEL 1:

INT. TROCADERO ARCADE, DAY

We’re inside the Trocadero arcade on Shaftesbury avenue, two
floors of game machines inside a shopping/cinema complex. A
group of 5 friends are clustered around the controls of a
fighting game, BOY 1 and BOY 2 intent at the joysticks.
They’re a pretty good subsection of London teenagers. Black,
Indian/Asian, White. Dressed in fashionable street clothes.
They’re around 16-17 years old. One of the group is Danny, a
young asian man pretty indistinguishable from his friends.

PANEL 2:

Closer on the group. BOY 1 is looking pissed off in a
good-natured kind of way, BOY 2 laughing as he beats him,
BOY 3 and BOY 4 laughing with him. Danny is in foreground
turned away from them, taking out his cellphone which is
ringing/vibrating in his hand.

BOY 1
What! No! You BASTARD. You
cheating… BELLEND.

BOY 2
Hahahaha

SFX
*musical notes from phone*

PANEL 3:

Small panel. CU. on Danny’s phone, he’s got a text message.

PHONE DISPLAY
~SARAH~  Just got off tube at
Leicester sq

PANEL 4:

Danny is walking away from his friends, raising one hand as
he calls back at them. BOY 2 looks over his shoulder from
the controls of the game while BOY 3 takes BOY 1’s place, 1,
2 and 4 all grinning as they taunt their friend.

DANNY
Gonna go pick up Sarah from the
station, back in a bit.

BOY 4
Oooooooh, SARAH!

BOY 2
Haha, take as long as you want,
mate.

BOY 1
*mwah!* *mwah!* (kissing noises)

PANEL 5:

Danny makes his way though the crowded Trocadero, which is
bustling with people - it’s a Saturday so there’s schoolkids
and parents and tourists. Typical West End weekend mob.

PANEL 6:

CU on Danny pushing open a glass door, half out onto
Shaftesbury avenue, having walked through one of the
tourist-tat shops to get out. He’s shielding his eyes from
the light, his eyes not quite adjusting. Which is just as
well really given what’s coming on the next page.

PAGE 2

Splash page. Title, credits etc. Danny stands at the
Shaftesbury Ave. entrance to the Trocadero, looking towards
Piccadilly Circus. The city looks like something out of the
better class of disaster movie, no lights, no people.
Everything is grimy and dilapidated from years of neglect.
Many windows are broken. Grass grows in the gutters, there
are large pools of stagnant water. Black cabs stand rotting
in the streets. The statue of Eros has moss and weeds
growing around it. The sky is a glowing overcast grey/white,
so I suppose some things never change. Even the Trocadero
that Danny has just stepped out of is a grimy semi-ruin.

PAGE 3

PANEL 1:

EXT. Queen Elizabeth Hospital, morning. A complex of
two-story buildings with a weird sail-like canopy out the
front like an inverted tent. It’s a pretty ugly building
really, but for once it’s a sunny day.

CAPTION:
QUEEN ELIZABETH HOSPITAL, WOOLWICH,
LONDON

PANEL 2:

INT. Hospital. We’re seeing the door to Parfett’s room from
Darrow’s POV, his shadow an outline on the closed door, a
small window showing a glimpse of the room beyond. On a clip
mounted on the door is a chart with the words “EMILY
PARFETT” clearly visible.

PANEL 3:

We’re now inside the room, still from Darrow’s POV. The
single hospital bed is empty but obviously slept in, an IV
with an empty bag at its side with the tube dangling
lifelessly. Sleeping in a chair next to the bed is Wace, his
arms crossed over his chest, his head tilted back, mouth
slightly open. He’s still wearing the same clothes we saw
him in last issue. And on the foot of the bed is a folded
piece of paper with “Michael” written on it in neat
handwriting.

PANEL 4:

Framed on the note so we can more clearly see it, Darrow’s
arm reaching into frame to pick it up. Dark suit jacket
sleeve with white shirt, expensive cufflinks.

PANEL 5:

The note. Handwritten on a small piece of lined paper, like
a notepad.

NOTE
Dear Michael, Get fucked. - Emily.
X X X

PAGE 4

PANEL 1:

Now we see Darrow, he’s looking up from the note, a thin,
humourless smile on his face.

PANEL 2:

Wace is waking up, rubbing his eyes. He’s still groggy, and
has no idea that Parfett has done a runner.

WACE
Ughhh… what time is it?

PANEL3:

Darrow slips the note into his breast pocket his smile
disapearing, still looking straight ahead, not bothering to
face the confused Wace.

DARROW
It’s too late, Wace.

PANEL 4:

We’re back to Darrow’s POV now, staring at the open window,
the curtains being blown around slightly by the breeze.

CAPTION (DARROW)
…Too bloody LATE.

PAGE 5

PANEL 1:

Tall, page length panel. Full body shot of Parfett as she
hails a cab on Artillery Road. She’s barefoot but
determined, her long coat buttoned up around her, a hospital
gown just showing underneath.

PARFETT
Taxi!

PANEL 2:

Parfett gets into a typical Londond Black Cab, the driver
looking back at her in his rear-view mirror.

DRIVER
Alright miss? Where to?

PARFETT
Firstly; where exactly am I?

DRIVER
Uh…Woolwich.

PANEL 3:

CU on Parfett as she looks out the window, her head close to
the glass, an amused, wry smile on her face.

PARFETT
(quietly to herself, smaller font
than usual) Christ… SOUTH of the
river?

PARFETT
(normal volume/font) Just take me
to Blackheath, would you?

PANEL 4:

The cab pulls away into the busy traffic.

PARFETT
Not QUITE civilisation, but it will
have to DO.

PAGE 6

PANEL 1:

Darrow strides away from the front entrance of the hospital,
a grim expression on his face. A short distance behind is
Wace, hands spread in a pleading gesture.

WACE
Look, how was I supposed to know
she’d wake up and do a runner?
She’d been in a coma for 19 hours!

PANEL 2:

Darrow’s driver holds the door of his car open for him, a
large dark-grey european luxury sedan. Wace is still trying
to explain.

WACE
None of the nurses could stand to
be in the same room with her for
long, I think she still had some
sort of residual.. weirdness even
asleep.

PANEL 3:

Inside the car. Darrow and Wace sit in the backseats as it
pulls away. Darrow has finally snapped, and is about to give
Wace a piece of his mind. Wace, on the other hand, is
frantically patting down his pockets.

DARROW:
I give you ONE fucking job, Wace,
and you…

WACE
Oh SHIT.

DARROW
WHAT?

PANEL 4:

CU on Wace’s face. He’s looking worried and slighly
sheepish.

WACE
…She’s nicked my wallet.

PANEL 5:

CU on Darrow, rolling his eyes with a disgusted expression
on his face, clearly wondering why he saddled himself with
this idiot.

PAGE 7

PANEL1:

Back to a two-shot of Wace and Darrow, Wace looking
despondant, Darrow very carefully controlling himself as he
stares out the window next to him.

DARROW
Your incompetence is the stuff of
LEGENDS, Wace. Generations of
mothers will lull their children to
sleep with tales of how utterly
USELESS you are.

DARROW
Fortunately for you, I have other
options for keeping track of Ms
Parfett.

PANEL 2:

CU on Wace as he looks sideways at Darrow.

WACE
Victory Ace?

PANEL 3:

Back to Darrow, his face reflected in the glass of the
window giving us another hint of his dual nature.

DARROW
You don’t go looking for a needle
by burning down the haystack. No,
the man we’re going to see… I
would call him an old friend.

PANEL 4:

EXT. Nightmarish London Street, night. Similar framing to
panel 3, but it’s a much younger Darrow - about 30 years
younger, his face all blues and greys in the weird night.
He’s yelling at someone off panel.

CAPTION (DARROW)
Though I’m sure he wouldn’t say the
same of ME.

DARROW: KYROS!

PAGE 8

PANEL 1:

EXT. Nightmarish London Street, night. Large panel.

Someone has taken a normal street and warped it into
something horrible. The brick terrace houses are distorted,
their tops jagged points, the city as a maze. FRANK BLAKEY
stands in the middle of the street, shadows stretching from
him in every direction, the cause of the twisted aura of
darkness. He’s an older man, late 50s but still stocky and
powerful. His grey hair is thinning under his flat cap,
crude tattoos cover his knuckles and arms. He’s obviously
been in a fight, one eye swollen, scrapes on his face, his
shirt torn. He’s holding KYROS ANDREOU at knife point, a
tall, lanky man about the same age as Darrow, dressed
similarly but in dark brown rather than charcoal, a
switchblade just grazing his throat. A short distance away
is Darrow, a pistol raised towards them, two dead bodies at
his feet, victims of Blakey’s aura.

CAPTION: 1977

PANEL 2:

Mid shot on Darrow. His eyes are glowing white, no pupils.
The first time we’ve seen him exhibit any actual powers.

DARROW
Let him GO, Frank

PANEL 3:

CU on Blakey and Andreou. Blakey is sweating, his teeth
gritted with the effort of resisting Darrow. Andreou looks
scared, a trickle of blood running down his neck from where
the point of the knife has dug in.

BLAKEY
Shut your gob you fucking CUNT. I’m
not one of your little PUPPETS. I
know what you REALLY are.

ANDREOU
Michael…

PAGE 9

PANEL 1:

CU on Darrow. His expression is even more grim, if that’s
possible, his glowing eyes open wide as he uses his
abilities.

PANEL 2:

CU of Andreou. His expression is suddenly blank, his eyes
going white as he’s affected by Darrow’s power.

PANEL 3:

Wide. Andreou suddenly throws himself sideways, blood
erupting from his neck in a dramatic spray as he drags
himself across the edge of the blade.. Blakey hasn’t even
had time to react.

PANEL 4:

Darrow opens fire on Blakey.

SFX: BLAM

PAGE 10

PANEL 1:

Wide. Blakey has begun to react, shadows coiling up in front
of him like water, an instinctual move that’s completely
ineffectual as Darrow’s bullet punches through them and hits
him in the shoulder.

PANEL 2:

Back to Darrow.

DARROW: DROP.

PANEL 3:

Long on Darrow and Blakey. Blakey is still standing, but
swaying slightly. Darrow still has his pistol raised,
pointing directly at him. Andreou lies on the ground
motionless.

PANEL 4:

Same as 3, but Blakey falls to the ground.

SFX: THUMP

PANEL 5:

Darrow stands in the middle of the street, the scene now a
normal London street at night, lit by orange streetlamps,
his gun lowered, a contemptuous look on his face.

DARROW
You have NO idea.

PAGE 11

PANEL 1:

EXT. Myddleton Road, Bounds Green, London. Present day.
Similar framing to Panel 5, Page 10, but Darrow is in the
middle of the (different) street because he’s crossing it,
Wace following behind.

PANEL 2:

Darrow and Wace have stopped outside a menswear shop that
looks like it hasn’t been open since sometime in the 80s.
Dusty, faded gloves, ties and jackets crowd the dingy window
displays, stained, greying curtains behind them hiding the
interior of the shop. A “closed” sign hangs in the doorway.

WACE
Doesn’t look like anyone’s…

PANEL 3:

Darrow ignores a slightly-shocked looking Wace, pushing open
the unlocked door and stepping into the shop.

PANEL 4:

INT. shop. The interior of the tiny shop is just as bad as
the exterior, ancient mannequins dressed in unfashionable
clothing, dusty and unloved. Darrow ignores all this, moving
purposefully towards the back of the dimly lit room, heading
for the faint illumination coming from windows somewhere in
another room at the rear of the building.

DACE:
…should we really be…

PANEL 5:

EXT. Backyard, day. Darrow pushes open the back door of the
house/shop, stepping out into the sunlight again after
walking through the building.

PAGE 12

PANEL 1:

EX. Backyard, day. Large panel. Andreou sits at a
wrought-iron outdoor table-and-chair set. He’s a tall, lanky
man about the same age as Darrow, dressed in a loose shirt
and khaki slacks. His hair is short and thin, but a long
beard frames his face, obscuring the ugly scar on his neck.
Large dark glasses cover his eyes - or rather the ruined
sockets where his eyes were. His hands rest on the top of a
cane. Behind him is his garden, a miserably small plot of
land like all North London back yards, but one that he’s
made into a tiny eden. The grass is neatly trimmed,
healthy-looking plants are everywhere, in hanging baskets,
in neat rows in the ground etc. In contrast the fences that
surround the small plot are high and mismatched. Crumbling
brickwork at the back, thin horizontal strips of wood at the
sides.

ANDREOU
Well Michael, what have you come to
take from me THIS time, hm? My
BALLS perhaps, to better make me
your TIRESIAS?

PANEL 2:

Darrow pulls out one of the chairs, about to sit down.

DARROW
Perhaps another time. You know why
I’m here, Kyros.

PANEL 3:

CU on Andreou.

ANDREOU
Of course I do. What surprises me
is that you came ALONE.

PAGE 13

PANEL 1:

Wace stands awkwardly behind Darrow, who has a tight smile
on his face, pleased that he’s about to have the upper hand
again.

DARROW
Kyros, I don’t beleive you’ve met
Mister Wace. Thomas Wace, this is
Kyros Andreou.

WACE
Hello.

PANEL 2:

Andreou recoils in horror, as if a ghost has spoken to him,
unable to sense Wace’s presense at all.

ANDREOU
WHERE… Why can’t I…

PANEL 3:

Back to Darrow and Wace, the latter looking distressed at
Andreou’s reaction but not sure what to do about it.

DARROW
Go into hysterics in your OWN time,
Kyros. I need ANSWERS.

PANEL 4:

Andreou pulls himself together with an effort, wiping a
handkerchief across his forehead.

ANDREOU
Yes, well…. Yes. Let’s go
somewhere where I can get a better
VIEW, shall we?

PAGE 14

PANEL 1:

EXT. Alexandra Palace, day. Wide, establishing shot taking
in the radio tower.

PANEL 2:

Another wide panel. We’re behind Darrow, Andreou and Wace as
they stand looking down at London from outside the palace
buildings, the city spread out in front of them. Clouds have
begun to gather but the sky is still bright.

ANDREOU
(italics, he’s quoting) Consult the
genius of the place in all;/That
tells the waters or to rise, or
fall;/Or helps th’ ambitious hill
the heav’ns to scale,/Or scoops in
circling theatres the vale.

ANDREOU
(normal font again) She’s a
somewhat MUCKY garden but I’m sure
you take my point.

DARROW
I would rather you ARRIVE at one.

PANEL 3:

Now looking towards the three, Alexandra Palace behind them.
Andreou is now wearing a coat as proof against the wind.

ANDREOU
What do you see down there,
mysterious Mister Wace?

WACE
Uh… buildings.. some trees…
um…

ANDREOU
- tsk - Michael? I know YOU can see
more than that.

PANEL 4:

CU, on Darrow’s profile, a frown creasing his features,
caught in an almost vunerable moment of concentration.

DARROW
There are… shadows on my city.

PANEL 5:

Andreou places his hand on Darrow’s shoulder.

ANDREOU:
You’re getting OLD, Michael. Let me
show you what I see.

PAGE 15

SPLASH PAGE

Similar to Page 14, panel 2, but Wace is missing and Darrow
and Andreou are silhouettes, K still standing with his hand
on Darrow’s shoulder. What was once the normal cityscape of
London is now a weird glowing double, triple, quadruple
exposure, buildings from several eras overlaid on each other
with no sense of scale. There’s fire and war and chaos as
well, all jumbled together like several cyanotypes all
mashed together.

PAGE 16

PANEL 1:

Darrow and Andreou stare at the eerie view, all colors
washed out by the weird light. K points out at the view with
his free hand.

DARROW
My GOD.

ANDREOU:
IMPRESSIVE, isn’t it? The
conjunction is quite advanced now.
People will be already slipping
through the CRACKS, never mind the
inevitable increase in ghosts,
black dogs and the like. Look, see
the hot spots? There, there and..
THERE. Those were your “shadows”

PANEL 2:

CU on Andreou, the lenses of his sunglasses reflecting the
weird glow.

ANDREOU
All your.. all OUR sacrifices last
time, it appears they weren’t
ENOUGH. This looks even WORSE, so I
hope you’ve got a damn good plan
rattling around in that icy BRAIN
of yours.

PANEL 3:

CU on Darrow, his expression unreadable, obviously thinking
about what Andreou’s shown him. None of this is much of a
surprise but it does force him to accellerate his plan.

DARROW
Hm.

PANEL 4:

We’re back to reality as Andreou takes his hand from
Darrow’s shoulder. Wace is wondering what’s going on, not
being privy to any of the visions, just the conversation
that accompanied it.

PANEL 5:

Close on Darrow.

DARROW
Where is EMILY, Kyros?

PAGE 17

PANEL 1:

Andreou smiles sadly at Darrow

ANDREOU
Ah, I SEE.

PANEL 2:

Andreou turns away from Darrow, staring back at the city.

ANDREOU
Impressive return wasn’t it? Like a
punch to the stomach.

ANDREOU
South… she’s near Blackheath,
Michael. Not for long, I would
imagine, she can be very evasive
when she wants to be. What will you
do if you don’t find her?

PANEL 3:

CU on Darrow, the same unreadable expression on his face. He
knows that Andreou is aware of his likely fate if Parfett
can’t be tracked down.

PANEL 4:

We’re back to Andreou.

ANDREOU
Yes, well. I shan’t make any long
term investments, shall I?

PAGE 18

PANEL 1:

Andreou, Wace and Darrow walk back up towards Alexandra
Palace and Darrow’s waiting car.

ANDREOU
I’ve had about as much of you as I
can stand for the moment, Michael.
Go and do what you feel you must. I
can find my own way home, it isn’t
far.

DARROW
I’ll be in touch.

PANEL 2:

Andreou watches the departing car, his hand on his neck,
rubbing the long scar that’s hidden by his beard.

PANEL 3:

CU on Andreou’s neck so we can see his thumb running along
the evil-looking scar.

PANEL 4:

Inside Darrow’s car. Darrow is speaking into his cellphone,
while Wace cranes his head back to catch a final glimpse of
Andreou through the back window.

DARROW
Hello Comissioner. Good, thank you,
and you? Listen, I have some
information about that terrorist
attack in Woolwich…

PAGE 19:

Montage, no dialogue. Pages 19 and 20 will mirror each
other. Page 19 will be Order, 20 will be Chaos. Panel 1 will
be long (page height), LHS of page, with panels 2-4 beside
it on the right, regular sized and taking up the rest of the
page

PANEL 1:

Ext. South London street, late afternoon. Two policemen are
asking passers by if they’ve seen Parfett, showing them a
b/w composite sketch.

PANEL 2:

CU, side view of a red marker making a circle on a map

PANEL 3:

CU of Darrow looking pensive, the back end of the marker
against his lips like a shh-ing finger.

PANEL 4:

Darrow is silhouetted against a wall-sized map of London.
Red circles dot the map in a strange, mandala-like pattern.

PAGE 20:

Layout mirrors 19, Panel 4 will be long (page height), RHS
of page, with panels 1-3 beside it on the left, regular
sized and taking up the rest of the page

PANEL 1:

Ext. Aldgate High Street, late afternoon. Shoppers are
shocked and frightened by the shadowy apparition of a grim
plague cart stacked high with bodies rolling slowly down the
street.

PANEL 2:

A man bursts into flames in his bathroom, screaming into the
mirror as he combusts

PANEL 3:

CU of one of the Sphinxes at the base of Cleopatra’s Needle
beside the Thames. Weird, glowing green tears run down its
cheeks.

PANEL 4:

Ext. Ruined London, corner of Charing Cross Road and Long
Acre. Outside Leicester Squre tube station entrance. P
stands looking up at the Undground symbol, which is half
hidden by unhealthy green moss. Around him the city is still
deserted and ruined, damp and partially overgrown.

PAGE 21

PANEL 1:

Wide. Andreou sits on a bench on the park just below
Alexandra Palace. It’s early evening now, soon getting dark,
the city lit up below. There’s not as many people around.

PANEL 2:

Almost exactly the same as panel 1.

ANDREOU
He didn’t know you were here, did
he?

PANEL 3:

The same as panels 1 and 2, but now Victory Ace is standing
behind Andreou, his arms crossed.

VICTORY ACE
Mister Darrow doesn’t hold my
LEASH, Mister Andreou. No matter
how much he’d like to THINK so.

PANEL 4:

We’re look looking back at Andreou and Victory Ace. Andreou
hasn’t bothered to turn around to look at VA, still looking
out at the city, his hands on his cane.

ANDREOU
Hm. Underestimating Michael is a
very good way to end up as a
CORPSE.

ANDREOU
I know why you’re HERE Ace, so I
would thank you not to
underestimate ME as well.

VICTORY ACE
Do you?

PANEL 5:

As panel 4, but Andreou has taken off his glasses to clean
them with his handkerchief, revealing his ruined eyesockets.

ANDREOU:
We are both sick of being his
PUPPET, are we not? I just hope you
are able to accept the
CONSEQUENCES.

PAGE 22:

PANEL 1:

Large Panel. A beam of white/green light shoots from Victory
Ace’s outstretched hand and strikes Andreou, who is reduced
to a glowing white silhouette as he’s erased from existance.
His dark glasses fall from his hands, miraculously
unscathed.

PANEL 2:

Victory Ace examines Andreou’s sunglasses, seemingly unmoved
by the fact he’s just disintegrated someone.

VICTORY ACE:
We’ll have to see.

.

.

PANEL 3:

Classic overhead shot of Victory Ace flying towards the
reader and up/away from the bench, Alexandra Palace and
London a fish-eye panorama beneath him.

PANEL 4:

Small. Andreou’s sunglasses sitting on the empty bench.

PAGE 23

PANEL 1:

Ext. South London Street. Evening. Wace stands on his
doorstep at the top of a small set of concrete stairs,
unlocking the door.

PANEL 2:

Small. CU of doorbell/plate at side of (now open) door. It’s
a list of the people that live in the 4 flats that the
building is divided into, with seperate doorbell buttons
beside each. The panel is centered on the listing for flat
2; THOMAS WACE. Just so we know he’s going home and not
breaking into someone else’s house.

PANEL 3:

We’re now inside the doorway, stairs leading to the upper
flats, a short hallway leading to the ground-floor
apartment. Wace is looking down at the mail that’s arrived
for him today, just bills as always. He hasn’t bothered to
turn on the light, so the room is dim, lit mainly from the
street outside.

PANEL 4:

Wace pushes open the door to his flat proper, the interior
brightly lit. He’s still looking down at his mail, so he
hasn’t noticed anything’s awry.

PARFETT
(from off-panel). Hello Mister
Wace…

PAGE 24:

Splash Page. Parfett stands in Wace’s flat, still wearing
her long beige coat but now wearing stylish but not flashy
modern clothes, her hair trimmed shorter than when we last
saw her. A WW2-era pistol is in her hands, pointed square at
Wace in a very businesslike fashion. Wace stands
openmouthed, envelopes falling from his hand.

PARFETT
…let’s have a little CHAT, shall
we?

No related posts.

Bow Before Birdbrain

Page 1

Panel 1

The Deluxe Insecticons are busy stamping on an orphanage

Caption: EARTH.

Barrage: Crushing children is so fun and adult! I’m glad we made the PRETENDER MONSTERS joint Decepticon leaders!

Panel 2.

FULL-TILT runs up to a shadowy figure (Birdbrain)

Full-Tilt: Sir sir, I’ve had a letter from ALL THE GOVERNMENTS OF THE WORLD!

Panel 3

Full-Tilt opens the letter and reads it to the shadowy figure.

Full-Tilt: They say that they saw us smash this small American town and so are all totally surrendering without exception! Go team!

Panel 4

(Inset) We see Birdbrain’s pretender shell hissing open. He starts to step out

Birdbrain: Excellent….

Panel 5

Splash over the bottom half of the page. Birdbrain looking maniacal whilst the rest of his cronies stand about

Birdbrain: Now the Earth will learn to…

Title: BOW BEFORE BIRDBRAIN!

PAGE 2

Panel 1

Birdbrain is walking along explaining his plan to Icepick

Birdbrain: See, now we’ve conquered this small insignificant planet, we have no need to invade any other world…

Panel 2

Birdbrain turns to the reader, raising a fist

Birdbrain: Decepticons, commence Operation: Loiter!

Panel 3

A lineup of all the Decepticons loitering. Slog is tapping his foot, Birdbrain has his arms crossed and is whistling, Actionmaster Thundercracker is looking at his watch, Astrotrain is playing with a toy train making ‘choo choo’ noises, Double-Punch is reading Panini Armada etc.

Panel 4

Full-Tilt runs up to Birdbrain again, all in a tizzy.

Full-Tilt: Sir sir! Sorry to disrupt your pointless meandering sir, but the US  Army has just launched an attack on us. And they are using a TINY DINGHY!

Birdbrain: Do not fear, return to standing about aimlessly…

Panel 5

Micromaster Flattop is on his little boat. He is leaning over the side, and a sinking dinghy has just crashed into the side.

Caption: “…Flattop will deal with all naval opposition!”

FX: SPLUTCH

Flattop: Uuh did I just hit something? Sorry!

PAGE 3

Panel 1

Hot Rod steps out of the loo.

Caption: Meanwhile on Cybertron…

FX: Flushing noise

Hot Rod: Hey guys, I’ve just been thinking and…

(link)
…OH BY PRIMUS!

Panel 2

Inside of Autobase Cybertron. It is horrid and dusty, Roadbuster is playing cards against Whirl, the dead body of Optimus Prime slumped in another chair. Cliffjumper is by a coffee machine etc etc. Kup stands in the foreground, cigar in mouth.

Kup: Glad you made it lad! There’s been some CHANGES in the seconds since you’ve been away…

Panel 3

Kup leads Hot Rod by the shoulders

Hot Rod: I see someone let you out of your box…

Kup: Aye. And Optimus Prime is dead (again) and we’ve gone back to Cybertron

Panel 4

Hot Rod points out the window at the surface of Cybertron, a desolate wasteland with lightning forking in the sky

Hot Rod: But… but Cybertron is a deadly radioactive wasteland!

Panel 5

Close up on Kup standing next to the window. Outside it is a beautiful green landscape with trees and bunnies, and a pixie is floating in the air next to him, and little singing fish and stuff

Kup: No lad, it’s all better now…

PAGE 4

Panel 1

Topspin is looking on a computer, angrily. Twin Twist and Gears are standing behind him, also

looking angry and shaking their fists

Topspin: I don’t believe it; someone is disagreeing with me on the internet!

Twin Twist: Throw a brick through his window!

Gears: Accuse him of Powerlinxing with Minicons!

Panel 2

Hot Rod scratches his head

Hot Rod: But Kup, where are all the other guys? Like the Technobots?

Kup: We don’t talk about their sort, boy…

Panel 3.

A view of the back of the Autobase, outside in the wasteland. There is a large CHEMICAL SHED with the dead bodies of the Technobots lying outside, a bullet hole in each of their heads

Caption: “…Post-Movie Autobots aren’t welcome anymore”

Caption: “Coming over here, taking our jobs…”

Panel 4.

Hot Rod makes a fist and shakes it in the air

Hot Rod: We can’t let the Decepticons win Kup! We must regroup, fight back, save the universe!

Panel 5

Kup is now sitting around the card table, lighting his energon-cigar

Kup: Important things first lad. Now sit down, take a break and have an energon cigar…

Panel 6.

Kup lights the cigar, it explodes

PAGE 5

Panel 1

On earth, Birdbrain and co are standing about. Full-Tilt has a hardhat on and is looking at some plans.

Birdbrain: We must prepare! The Autobots might come swooping down on us at any moment! Start building the defenses!

Panel 2

In Autobase Cybertron, the Autobots are all sitting around the card table playing cards. They look rather bored. Sunstreaker  is using Optimus Prime’s head as an ashtray. Hot Rod stares intently at his cards

Hod Rod: Go fish

NEXT ISSUE:

Can the Autobots survive… THE COFFEE MACHINE BREAKING?

No related posts.

One thing I’ve shamelessly stolen from the excellent comics blogs 4thletter and Mightygodking is the randomised title image. So far I’ve only got three, and while it would be easy enough to just scan in some interesting looking panels and slap the “…guys writing comics” box in the corner, it.. just doesn’t seem right.

What I wanted to do was use art that was comissioned by or explicitly drawn for me or Matt.  It’s more personal, and ties the title into the theme of the site.

• Title one

  …is a cropped and colored picture of Kerr Avon from the cult British sci-fi series Blake’s 7, as drawn by the immensely talented Michael Avon Oeming. I fell in love with his style while reading POWERS, and comissioned this piece at DragonCon 2007 when I found out his middle name is a reference to the Blake’s 7 character (can’t find a link to this at the moment so you’ll have to take my word for it).  I quickly dropped some colors + lettering on it in Photoshop.

• Title 2

  …is a selection of panels from a one page script I wrote for the Transformers Mosaic project and drawn by my good friend Heather O’Connell. Originating on the IDW forums, the quality of the entries was… erratic at best. Heather’s art is always supurb, and she turned my rather overblown script into something beautiful.  Originally in amazing black and white tones, I added digital colors and a few contrast tweaks here and there.

• Title 3

  …is a quick sketch that I requested from the wonderful Kate Beaton at the recent UK Web & Mini Comix Thing. You are doing yourself a disservice if you aren’t following her comic about history and assorted other things.

Next week Matt’s either posting his absurd IDW-Transformers parody “Bow Before Birdbrain”, or something else entirely (he claims it is a secret).  The week after that will be issue #2 of London’s Calling.

No related posts.

Anyway, enough blather, onto the script.

EDIT: I’ve just noticed that I’ve forgotten to include the description for Wace in the .pdf!  I’ll upload a new version later.

Download "London Calling - issue 1" as .pdf

LONDON CALLING

ISSUE 1 of 4

PAGE 1

Ext. On top of st. paul’s cathedral, day.

The sky is the color of a bruise, a storm hanging heavy over
the capital. Weird lightning flickers from cloud to cloud,
like it was the end of the world.
PANEL 1:
CLOSE UP: EMILY PARFETT.

Dark, chin-length straight hair frames a pleasant,
heart-shaped face.  Her makeup is ruined by the tears
rolling down her cheeks. She looks EXTREMELY pissed off.

PARFETT
You… you.. complete and utter
CUNT

(We might have to censor “cunt” but that’s the word she’s
using even under a black bar)

PANEL 2:
WIDE, but not quite wide enough to show how crazy it really
is for two people to be standing on st pauls (save the full
panorama for the splash)

We can see the low London skyline and the weird clouds and
lightning.  EMILY PARFETT is confronting a younger MICHAEL
DARROW.

DARROW is wearing a smart dark suit in a 80’s style, no
ridiculous pastels or rolled up sleeves but it is slightly
dated. His hair is a light brown, medium length and wavy.
Darrow’s hands are covered in blood up to the elbows. A
long, straight sword is held in his right hand, in the other
he holds the lapels of TIM, a young man who he’s obviously
just stabbed, his body half-slumped onto the rooftop. His
tie and hair is whipped around by the high winds.

PARFETT is wearing similar styled clothing, expensive and
well cut business attire. Business jacket, skirt, stockings.
Attractive but not particularly revealing. She’s also
wearing a long beige coat that’s flapping around like a cape
behind her. No shoes as she took off her heels for purchase
on top of the dome.

CAPTION:1984

DARROW
Don’t be so  Don’t be so NAIVE,
Emily…

PANEL 2:

Darrow lets go of the deceased Tim, who falls to the roof
with a THUMP.

DARROW
…I’ve just saved the WORLD.

PAGE 2

PANEL 1:

Parfett cradles Tim’s body.

PARFETT
You’ve MURDERED our FRIENDS,
Michael.  Oh God, TIM.. you
bastard. You’ve stabbed TIM.

PANEL 2:

Darrow wipes the blood off the sword with the edge of his
jacket.

DARROW
Tim was a worthless streak of PISS
who couldn’t find his ass with both
HANDS.  Dying is the most useful
thing he’s ever DONE.

PANEL 3:

Parfett is standing again, shaking with rage as she
confronts Darrow.

PARFETT
That’s IT. I don’t give a shit that
you just saved the world.  I’m DONE
with this, Michael.  I’m done with
ALL of it. I’m LEAVING.

PANEL 4:

Similar to Panel 3, but Parfett is teleporting away, a
woman-shaped hole in the world like a weird fractal
reflection.

PANEL 5:

CU on Darrow. He’s surprised and rattled, he had no idea
that Y could do that.  A small uncertainty  after his smug
victory.

DARROW
Hm.

PAGE 3

SPLASH PAGE

Titles, credits, etc.

Full page landscape of St Paul’s and surrounds, Darrow a
small figure standing on the top.   The storm is breaking
up, huge shafts of light now coming through the angry
clouds.

DARROW
…To hell with it.

PAGE 4

EXt. woolwich arsenal. day

The top 2/3 of the page is taken up with one image broken
into 2 panels, the second taller than the first.

We’re inside Woolwich Arsenal looking towards one of the
gated communities. The area has been cordoned off, emergency
services are everywhere. There are a lot of people receiving
medical attention - some are huddled under blankets, others
strapped into stretchers and loaded into ambulances. All
look either shell shocked or just plain crazy. No actual
injuries, it’s all mental.

In the foreground is THOMAS WACE, looking down at an

iPhone-like cellphone (he’s on a video call with Darrow).

Wace is a blonde man in his mid thirties.  Receding hairline,

slightly overweight, a permanent hangdog expression.

He’d be better looking if he cheered up and lost some weight.

All his speech-bubbles are linked across both panels.

PANEL 1:

This is framed on the skyline, on a slightly hazy winter
day, the sky a very bright pale blue, almost grey.  Flat and
dull compared to the dramatic stormclouds of the previous
page.

CAPTION
PRESENT DAY

DARROW
(electric bubble, he’s on the other
end of the phone)  Well?

WACE
It’s a MESS.

DARROW
SPECIFICS, Wace.

PANEL 2:

This is framed on Wace, and contains all the bustle of the
scene.

CAPTION:
WOOLWICH ARSENAL, LONDON

WACE
As far as I can tell, anyone that
comes within 500 meters of one of
the blocks loses their MIND.

WACE
No-one can get in there to see
what’s causing it without going
MENTAL, they’ve lost a couple of
cops and medics already.
Helicopters can’t even fly over it.

WACE
I’ve tried getting more info from
people but a policeman wouldn’t let
me past the caution tape.

DARROW
Wace, you’re as much use as a
chocolate hammer. Put the officer
on the phone, would you?

PANEL 3:

Wace hands his phone to a cop who’s standing on the other
side of some “POLICE LINE: Do Not Cross” tape.  He’s a
typical london bobby, stab proof vest, stupid helmet and
all.

WACE
It’s for you.

PANEL 4:

CU on cop. he’s raised the phone to his ear, unaware that
it’s a vid phone.

COP
Hello?

PANEL 5:

Similar to panel 4, but the cop’s eyes have widened and he’s
got a startled expression on his face. Darrow has just
introduced himself and threatened to completely ruin his
career, finances and home life.

PAGE 5

PANEL 1:

Wace is suppressing a smile as he ducks under the tape, the
cop helpfully lifting it for him.  The police officer looks
pissed off, but there’s nothing he can do about it.

PANEL 2:

Looking over Wace’s shoulder at Darrow on his camera phone.
Darrow looks similar to how we saw him in the 80s, except
his hair is now a pure silver grey, and his face is much
more lined and wrinkled. In the background we can just see
his richly furnished office.

WACE
What now?

DARROW
Talk to everyone you CAN, and for
God’s sake, hold up the PHONE so I
can SEE them.  I need to know
what’s happening there.

PANEL 3/REST OF PAGE:

A series of snapshots of the human aftermath of whatever
horrible event is happening in Woolwich Arsenal. People
sitting blank eyed in blankets. A man frothing at the mouth
as he’s held down by paramedics. A policewoman throwing up.
A medic telling Wace to get out of his face, pushing the
camera away angrily. Things like that, feel free to be
creative. Small regular panels, giving the impression that
Wace is doing what he’s told and we’re seeing what Darrow is
seeing. I’ll drop in dialogue later for panels that need it.

PAGE 6

PANEL 1:

Wace was in the process of talking to a crazy looking woman
but has been interrupted by his boss (she’s still raving in
the background)

DARROW
That’s ENOUGH.  I want you to get
in there and STOP whoever’s doing
this.

WACE
WHOEVER? But…

PANEL 2:

CU on Wace’s phone, Darrow’s face now fills the screen as if
he’s leaned forward. He’s irritated, so he’s going to swear
a lot.

DARROW
Don’t FUCK around here Wace. You’re
the ONLY one who can do this, so
when I say jump, you bloody well
JUMP. I’ve got some very important
people to call, so you get in
there, put a stop to this
situation, do as you’re fucking
told, and DON’T screw this UP.

PANEL 3:

Same as Panel 2, but the screen has blipped out and gone
dark as Darrow hangs up, a white line/dot showing where it’s
shutting off.  Wace’s face is reflected in the dark screen,
his eyes shadowed.

SFX: BOOP

PANEL 4:

Same as Panels 2 and 3. More focus on the reflected face now
that it’s not obscured with a white dot/line.

WACE
Shit.

PAGE 7

INT, BUSY OFFICE. DAY.

PANEL 1:

Exact same framing as last panel on page 4, except instead
of a reflection in a cellphone screen we are now looking at
Wace in the flesh.  Dressed in a white shirt and tie.

WACE
Shit.

PANEL 2:

A computer screen, a boring set of spreadsheets half
obscured by a game of Minesweeper, which Wace has just
lost.  Badly.

PANEL 3:

We see that Wace is sitting at a desk in a busy, open-plan
office. Despite the bustle around him, Wace looks bored and
discontent. Still, at least he’s got a window to look out
of, which he’s doing in a sort of sidelong, bored way.

CAPTION: ONE YEAR AGO

PANEL 4:

Wace’s POV. Looking out over the London skyline, which is
low and covered in chimneys and clutter, with a few
buildings standing out. And there’s two figures off in the
distance, surrounded by weird energy, fighting in mid air.
They’re too far away to make out any real detail, just
silhouettes.  This is VICTORY ACE and an unamed supervillan
who we’re never going to see again.

PANEL 5:

Small panel. CU of Wace, shading his eyes and peering out
the window, not quite beleiving what he’s seeing.

PANEL 6:

Another small panel. Closer on midair fight. Figures are
still indistinct, but energy is more intense.  Green
spherical explosions common.

PANEL 7:

Wace stands up from his desk, pointing towards the window
and looking around at the other people in the office, who
are looking non-plussed in that very special way that
English people do when someone is making a scene.

WACE
Has anyone else seen…

PANEL 8:

As Panel 7, but flooded with an intense white light, like
the flash from an atomic weapon.  Wace is just a sketchy
dark outline.

PAGE 8

EXTERIOR, OFFICE BUILDING, DAY.

PANEL 1:

Tall panel.

Wace is standing bug-eyed in mid air, almost like
Wile-E-Coyote, in the center of a perfectly spherical hole
in his office building. Everything around him is just GONE,
like it was disintegrated at the atomic level. The radius of
the blast extends up and down a couple of stories. Floors,
ceilings, desks have been cut cleanly by the sphere of
destruction. And yet Wace is completely untouched.

WACE
Whuh…

PANEL 2:

Same as Panel 1, but Wace is now falling, half off the
bottom of the panel.

WACE
AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!

PANEL 3:

INT. HOSPITAL, DAY

Wide panel (page width, underneath 1 and 2)  Wace is in
hospital, both legs in a cast, various other bandages from
falling a couple of stories. It’s remarkable he’s alive at
all.  He doesn’t look happy.

PAGE 9

PANELS 1-4:

…are repeats of the last panel from Page 6, alternating
day and night but with slightly changes to suggest the
passing of time. Start with night shot. Wace’s bandages
change, there’s various clutter… but there’s never any
flowers or get well cards or visitors.

PANEL 5:

Again, the same framing as 1-4, but now Darrow is sitting in
a chair beside the bed, looking relaxed.   Wace is asleep.
It’s night, the room rendered in blues and greys.

DARROW
Hello Mr Wace.

PAGE 10

PANEL 1:

Closer on Wace and Darrow.  Wace is waking up but still
groggy, rubbing his eyes, not sure what’s going on or who
this guy is.

WACE
Hzzat?

DARROW
Do you know how perfectly
ridiculous it is for you to survive
a direct strike from one of the
most powerful men on the planet?

WACE
My legs…

PANEL 2:

Darrow leans forward, switching on the bedside lamp. His
face is heavily shadowed on one side from the strong light
source. We’ll see that kind of shadowing often when dealing
with Darrow as he’s on the borderline of light and dark.

DARROW
You broke both your LEGS when you
fell a few stories and landed on a
CAR. Frankly, I’m surprised you
didn’t break anything ELSE. But not
QUITE as surprised as I am to find
you’re not a rapidly expanding
cloud of superheated MOLECULES.

DARROW
Tell me Mr Wace… or Thomas, if
you prefer; Do you know who VICTORY
ACE is?

PANEL 3:

CU on Wace.  The penny has just dropped.

WACE
Oh.

PANEL 4/REST OF PAGE:

A couple of photographs, like they’ve been strewn across the
panel. The main/largest is Victory Ace flying straight
through a german bomber (a Heinkel He 111) which is
exploding behind him. He’s a dark haired, squared jawed
military type, more Captain America than Superman. He’s
wearing a pilot’s flight uniform with no parachute, webbing,
goggles or headgear. A wide “V” is stitched across his
chest, in red-on-white material like the bars of the Union
Flag, the two stripes of the V meeting in the middle of his
jacket.

Smaller photos are Victory Ace shaking hands with Churchill,
a dramatic shot of him shooting beams from his hands, etc.
Don’t need many of these, one or two will do.

PAGE 11

PANEL 1/MOST OF PAGE:

We’re continuing the photomontage from Page 8, moving
forward in time. There’s photos of Victory Ace in the 60s
fighting a weird plasmatic black figure (the same figure he
was fighting when Wace was injured), containing a garbarge
can in a forcefield outside Earls Court Exhibition Center
(this is a reference to the 1974 IRA bombing), and flying
out of an Underground entrance carrying a frightened looking
middle-eastern man who’s holding a large black sports bag
(obviously a reference to the 2005 bombings). Can toss in
smaller promotional images if needed/wanted.

All are positive, powerful images. His costume changes
slightly through the eras, but still maintains the same
elements - british army green with the red V across the
chest. His costume is never spandex, always looking like
real clothing.

PANEL 2:

Back to Wace and Darrow again.

DARROW
Yes, “Oh” about sums it up. Your
office was collateral damage in a
fight between Victory Ace and some
absurd American creation, two
people best described as walking
nuclear WEAPONS, and you - YOU, Mr
Wace, emerge without a SCRATCH.

PANEL 3:

Wace has finally woken up enough to be annoyed and ask the
obvious question.

WACE
Look, who the hell ARE you? What’s
going on here?

PANEL 4:

Darrow is standing up now, his face retreating into shadow
as he tosses a newspaper onto Wace’s lap.

DARROW
My name is Michael Darrow, Mr Wace.
Here, read this.

PAGE 12

PANEL 1:

We’re looking over Wace’s shoulder as he picks up the paper.
It’s a typical trashy English tabloid like the Sun. The
headline reads “MIRACULOUS SURVIVOR” Underneath is a full
color picture of a handsome blonde man with both his legs in
casts, grinning cheerfully and giving a thumbs up for the
camera. A smaller headline reads “FIRST EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW”

WACE
Waht’s this?

PANEL 2:

Darrow is still standing, hands in his pockets, face still
in shadow (though his features are visible).  Wace is
looking up, shocked and annoyed.

DARROW
That’s tomorrow’s paper.

WACE
WHAT? But I never… this isn’t ME!

PANEL 3:

Darrow suddenly leans forward back into the light towards
Wace (and the reader), his palms on the bed, an intense look
on his face. Large panel because this is going to be a lot
of words.

DARROW
No, but it COULD be. You could be
the idiot on that front page,
grinning like a MONKEY and telling
a massive audience of slack jawed
tracksuit wearing INBREDS how brave
you’ve been and how you thank GOD
for this second chance. Give a few
interviews, get asked what you
think of the latest braindead pop
AUTOMATON, dance like a bear on a
string until they get sick of you.
Then during the last GASP of your
fifteen minutes you could go on
some horrible reality show like
“I’m a washed up manufactured
celebrity - Pay attention to me”.
Eventually the money and fame will
run OUT and you’ll be back at some
worthless office, listening to your
collegues SNIGGER behind your back
at “that guy did that thing on that
show”.

PAGE 13

PANEL 1:

Darrow is standing back up again, his face calm.

DARROW
Or that dim young man could become
the media’s plaything, I could pay
you twice what you’re earning now,
and YOU could have the chance to do
something worthwile with your so
far UNREMARKABLE life. Well?

PANEL 2:

EXT. WOOLWICH ARSENAL, DAY.

We’re back to the present day, a shot of Wace looking glum
as always as he stops reminicing.

DARROW (CAPTION)
…What do you say?

PANEL 3:

Wace is walking resolutely towards the source of the chaos.
In the background the cop that stopped him earlier is
running to catch up, one arm upraised as he calls out.

WACE
I should have taken the paper deal.

COP
Oy!

PANEL 4:

Wace has turned to face the policeman who has caught up with
him.

COP
You’re actually going in there?
You’re MAD, mate.

PANEL 5:

Wace shrugs.

WACE
PROBABLY, yeah.  I’ll be fine.

PANEL 6:

The cop looks skeptical.

COP
WILL you now?  In that case sir,
I’m coming WITH you.

PAGE 14

PANEL 1:

Wace is startled by this obvious madman, haf raising his
hands in defense as the cop points an accusing finger at
him.

WACE
What?  Listen, I…

COP
You’re the ONLY one around here who
seems to have any idea of what’s
going on, and you’re confident you
can just STROLL right into a
seriously weird situation that
no-one else can get NEAR.

PANEL 2:

Close on the cop, who is looking authoritive.

COP
So yes, sir.  I will be coming with
YOU.

PANEL 3:

Wace has resumed walking, a very sour look on his face, the
cop following behind trying his best to look resolute and
heroic.

WACE (CAPTION)
I REALLY should have taken the
paper deal.

PANEL 4:

Wide on Wace and the COP as they pick their way through the
blocks of flats towards the center of the event. They’re
more cautious now, spooked. There’s an eerie calm. Bodies
lie in the street. As we get away from the more crowded
section with the police etc, the world gets more washed out,
becoming almost greyscale. The sky is a bright grey now
rather than blue. The only bright spots of color are the
comatose victims and our protagonists.

PANEL 5:

Wace and COP.  Wace is looking down off-panel at one of the
victims, the COP is wide eyed and sweating, looking ill.
He’s got a lot further than anyone else due to Wace’s
proximity, but it’s starting to affect him now.

PANEL 6:

Shot of one of the victims, slumped like a rag-doll against
a wall, eyes open, a similar expression on their face to the
cop in panel 5, but with their mouth open in horror, drool
staining their shirt.

PAGE 15

PANEL 1:

Similar framing to panel 5 on page 12, except Wace has a
grim expression and looking straight ahead, and the Cop’s
eyes are rolling back in their sockets as he begins to
collapse.  Wace, of course, hasn’t noticed yet.

WACE
We’d better…

PANEL 2:

Wace has turned and is gasping in shock at the COP, who is
in mid-collapse, eyes rolled right back in his head,
frothing at the mouth.

WACE
Oh CHRIST!

PANEL 3:

Wace has caught the cop, but he’s not strong enough to hold
him up

WACE
Hold on mate… shit… um.. just
breathe…

WACE (CAPTION)
You idiot, that’s for pregnant
women.

PANEL 4:

Wace is crouching beside the COP, inexpertly making sure
he’s not dying.

WACE (CAPTION)
Jesus.. I wonder what he’s SEEING?

PANEL 5:

And now we see exactly what the cop is seeing, a full body
shot of him, his body distorting, his surrounds a
nightmarish world of weird geometry like every bad acid trip
anyone has ever had, his mouth open in a silent scream.

PAGE 16

PANEL 1:

Back to Wace, who’s standing looking down at the cop..
specifically at his gun.  He’s wondering if he should take
it, nervous about going that far but worried that he’ll run
into something he can’t deal with.

PANEL 2:

CU on the cop’s holster and anti-stab vest.  We can’t see
his face.  It’s obviously Wace’s POV.

PANEL 3:

Wace is walking away from the COP, wearing his vest, his
pistol in both hands, held down low.  Actually looking
reasonably badass for once.

PANEL 4:

Wace pushes open half of a large iron gate, big enough to
cover a steet. He’s reached the source of all this madness.

PANEL 5:

Wace has stepped into the compound and  is shocked at what
he sees, hand still resting on the gate.

PAGE 17

SPLASH PAGE

We’re looking down at a large open space, a carpark
surrounded by three story blocks of the old aresenal
buildings, now turned into apartments.

In the center lies Parfett, a slim figure in a long beige
coat and face-covering gas mask. The concrete around her has
shattered in crazy patterns like a mandala, like she’s been
dropped from a great height.

Around her lie the inhabitants of the apartments lying at
weird angles like they’re an extension of the pattern of the
cracked concrete. At the bottom of the frame stands Wace,
who’s now fully inside the gated community.

PAGE 18

PANEL 1

Wace is picking his way though the prone people, grimacing
as he looks down, making sure he doesn’t step on anyone’s
hand. Or face.

PANEL 2

Wace has reached Parfett, leaning down to pull her gasmask
up over her face.

PANEL 3

CU on Parfett, her eyes wide, staring unblinking in an
expression of horror.  She’s saying something but we  can’t
hear what it is, her speech bubble is just tiny lines like
text shrunk to nothing.

PANEL 4

Wace is standing up again, pointing the gun down at Parfett,
an agonized look on his face.

PANEL 5

CU on  the gun, Wace’s hands trembling around it. Will he
pull the trigger?

PANEL 6

A shot of the cop, still slumped and comatose, eyes open,
against the steps

PAGE 19

PANEL 1

…no, Wace can’t shoot.  He’s lowered the gun, his posture
slumped.  He’s not a stone cold killer. Maybe there’s
another way.

PANEL 2

Wace is back on the periphery where all the police and
emergency services are, looking a bit lost in all the chaos
as he approaches an ambulance worker.

WACE
Uh… excuse me?

PANEL 3

Low angle on Wace as he makes his way back through the
mandala of comatose people with an air-hypo in one hand,
walking like a man with a mission. He’s no longer wearing
the police vest or carrying the gun.

PANEL 4:

Wace has pulled down Parfett’s coat to expose her neck,
injecting the hypo into her jugular.

PAGE 20

PANEL 1:

CU on Parfett, who’s still got the same expression on her
face, eyes still open - but her mumbled words slowly trail
off into elipses.

PANEL 2:

Same as Panel 1, but now Parfett’s features have relaxed,
her eyes closed as she slips into unconciousness.

PANEL 3:

Large.  Wace is carrying Parfett is a slightly awkward
piggyback through the people that are now waking up from the
madness that incapacitated them.

PANEL 4:

The cop has woken up and is patting himself down, looking
startled. He’s got no recollection of collapsing or where
his gun or vest is.

COP
Whuh…

PANEL 5:

CU of the pistol lying on top of the vest on the footpath
just beside the still-befuddled officer.

PAGE 21

PANEL 1:

Parfett is being loaded into an ambulance on a stretcher.
Wace is in the background talking on his phone. He’s holding
it up to his ear, he can’t face a video call at the moment.

PANEL 2:

Closer on Wace as if we’ve zoomed in on him from Panel 1.

WACE
It’s sorted.

DARROW
(electric, from phone) Oh? Well
done, Wace. And just as I was about
to write you off.

PANEL 3:

INT DARROW’S OFFICE, DAY

CU on his phone, sitting on the edge of a polished dark
wooden desk. He’s got the same type of phone that Wace has.

WACE
(electric, from phone) I’ve sent
you the last photos.  Heading to
the hospital now, will keep you
informed.

DARROW
(from off panel) Yes yes, good job.
Goodbye Wace.

PANEL 4:

Darrow is silhouetted against the large windows at the end
of his office, some way behind his desk. The exterior is
just a white bloom, too bright for any details. It’s not one
large plate of glass, the windows start at about knee height
and are several rectangular sections, implying we’re not in
a modern office block but an older building.

PAGE 22

PANEL 1:

Profile of  Darrow standing at his windows, looking out. His
expression is unreadable.

VOICE FROM OFF PANEL
(from off panel) It’s happening
AGAIN, isn’t it?

PANEL 2:

Darrow half turns to face us/the person talking to him, his
face once more half in shadow.

DARROW
I think it may be, yes.

VOICE FROM OFF PANEL
(from off panel) So…

PANEL 3:

It’s Victory Ace! He’s dressed in his contempory uniform, a
high-color racing-style jacket and trousers. Green, with the
characteristic red and white V stripes across his chest.
Arms folded, looking stern. He’s almost glowing in the
light, very little shadows on him at all.

VICTORY ACE
…what shall we do about it?

PAGE 23

PANEL 1:

Darrow has returned to pick up his phone.

DARROW
I’m sure I’ll think of something.

PANEL 2:

CU of Darrow,  a tight smile on his face as he looks down at
the screen.

PANEL 3:

Darrow’s POV, holding his phone.  On the screen is a CU of
Parfett, unconcious in a stretcher, her brown hair tussled,
but otherwise serene.

DARROW
(off panel) Welcome back, Emily.

END

No related posts.

Imagine if every single conspiracy theory was actually real. Every paranoid delusion actually is completely based in fact. Who is out there stopping a planet full of crazyness. Who runs… The Montauk Project?

Page 1

Panel 1

We see the swastika-shaped Denver airport building from the air.

Caption: Denver International Airport. 1995

Caption: Art. Art can change the world. It can reach into our souls and unleash our desires, can change the way we think, and can unite or divide us as a society. And it can happen in the most ordinary of places. In Denver Airport for example, there is a mural.

Panel 2

Inside the airport. Bored people milling about. A man in a post uniform is pushing a trolley. Dominating the picture is a huge mural full of screaming children and burning buildings

Caption: A mural that depicts a burning world, stalked over by faceless men in SS uniforms.

Panel 3

Close up on the image of a gas-masked SS man. The postman wheels his trolley past it

Caption: Authorities call it art.

Panel 4

The postman wheels the trolley into a lift.

Caption: Others call it a sinister plan. A warning

Panel 5

We see him insert a key. The floor number -13 lights up.

Caption: We ignore it. We love our humdrum world

Panel 6

We see the lift from above as it descends

Caption: We don’t want to know about what evils may lurk beneath.

Page 2

Panel 1

An underground bond villain-esque complex. Nazi soldiers in classic World War 2 uniforms are milling about. The lift doors are in the centre of the image, opening with a ding.

Caption: Denver airport. Floor - 13

Panel 2

The postman, Germain, wheels the trolley in with the tip of a hat and a smile. He has a small parcel wrapped in brown paper in his hand.

Germain: Delivery for a Mr Richter

Panel 3

Richter, our chief villain in an SS commanders gear, wheels round. He has an eye patch and a bulky mechanical clockwork arm (much like Travis from Blake’s 7)

Richter: Oh, that’s… wait, who the hell are you, I’m not expecting anything!

Panel 4

The postman rips off a full-face mask to reveal his true face. It is our hero, Germain, a middle aged man with a look of aristocratic mania about him. He grins widely. In his other hand is the package, slightly torn to reveal the barrel of a gun

Germain: Strange, because it’s got your name on it!

Panel 5

We see Germain from behind, facing all the Nazi soldiers. In one hand is his gun, in the other he now has an official ID which he is waving about

Germain: Okay, I’m with the US Government Montauk Project. You are all under arrest, put down your weapons and surrender quietly or I will be forced to use lethal force

Panel 6

Same shot. Everyone in the room raises their gun at Germain with audible clicks

Page 3

Panel 1

Germain fires his gun

Panel 2

With a *chink*, we see Richter holding the bullet between his thumb and forefinger. He smiles widely

Panel 3

The soldiers assemble between Richter. He places his hand into a fist

Richter: Really Germain, after all we’ve been through together, you expect to stop me with this?

Panel 4

Germain, holds up a pad with a button, grinning

Germain: No, I expect to stop you with this

Panel 5

He presses the button. There are several DOOM sounds around him, as government special forces pour through portals that appear around him.

Germain: Okay, lets try this again. You are all under arrest. Stick those Nazi hands of yours in the air and prepare to hand over any illegal time travel equipment you may possess.

(Link)

We are not liable for any breakages that may occur.

Page 4

Panel 1

A gunfight breaks out. Close-up on government soldiers firing

Panel 2

Birds eye view of gunfight. Lots of shooting and men fighting on a monorail.

Panel 3

Germain calmly walks forward with the carnage around him. He looks quite serene as explosions blossom behind.

Panel 4

Closer on Germain. He is lighting up a cigar.

Germain: You know, Richter, building an underground base under Denver airport might have worked. If only you hadn’t painted your plans onto the lobby walls and built the airport in the shape of a swastika. Rookie error…

Panel 5

A wall panel rotates, taking Richter with it

Panel 6

Close up on Germain’s bemused face

Germain: …and I really need to stop talking so much.

Page 5

Panel 1

An explosion. Some Nazis fall off the monorail

Panel 2

A soldier runs up to Germain. Slightly less shooting in the background now.

Soldier: Sir, we’re mopping them up now…

Panel 3

Large shot. Germain, cigar in one hand is sorting through some scraps of paper left on a desk.

Germain: …but their commander’s escaped, yes I know. Still, we’ve got everything we came for right here.

(Link)

Fire up the Doom Gates, lets leave this time zone and get ready to return to…

Title(big): THE MONTAUK PROJECT

Page 6

All panels on this page are page-wide strips

Panel 1

A pencil-line sketch of Mondrian’s face, merging across into straight geometric lines

Caption: “Pieter Cornelis Mondrian. Artist. Born 1872, died 1944.”

Panel 2

Mondrian is painting at his desk, looking bedraggled. A breakaway shows the geometric lines he is creating

Caption: “Rather than record nature, his paintings strove to record spirituality.”

Caption: “To record truth.”

Panel 3

Montage. Charts and nature. An older Mondrian frantically scribbling away, all fading into more lines and blocky colour.

Caption: “His compositions became more complex, seemingly random yet carefully measured. Decoding the universe on canvas.”

Panel 4

Montage again. An old Mondrian lies dead, slumped over his easel. German tanks roll across the land.

Caption: “And then he died mysteriously in 1944 as the Second World War was drawing to a close.”

Panel 5

Hitler! The aging dictator is hunched over a desk, studying Mondrian’s painting as if battle plans. He has a paintbrush tucked behind his ear.

Caption: “But was it too late? Had a young Austrian artist becomes fascinated with Mondrian’s theories. Had he, in the dying days of the Second World War, taken Mondrian’s genius and with it his life. Had he found a way to push this new science of art to the extreme?”

Page 7

Panel 1

We are in a briefing room. Germain is facing a group of variously interested, uncaring and downright bored soldiers. Collins, a bulky, typical grunt figure is one of the latter

Collins: …yeah, uh Germain sir. If the answer to any of those questions is ‘no’, you’ve just wasted thirty precious minutes of my life.

Panel 2

Germain grimaces. He has an old fashioned pointer stick in his hand which he taps against the screen. It displays a geometric satellite image of a town which resembles a Mondrian painting

Germain: Luckily for your short and precious existence then Collins, that this is indeed relevant. From the raid in Denver, we found evidence of communications to a small suburban down in Northern Delaware called Perseverance. Notice anything strange about these satellite photos?

Panel 3

Quinn, another rather more weedy soldier, looks slightly startled. He’s actually a good boy and has been making notes

Quinn: But that’s…

Panel 4

Close-up on Germain’s face. We see  the satellite image more clearly now.

Germain: Exactly. And unless some of the most evil men to have ever lived have suddenly gone bonkers and decided to build housing projects in the style of dead French artists, I’d say we have something odd.

Panel 5

Even closer shot of Germain.

Germain: And I don’t LIKE odd things.

Panel 6

Quinn raised a hand as if in school

Quinn: Sir, has there been any odd events or occurrences noted nearby. Strange lights or dis-

Germain: No, I’ve had it checked out. Its boring. Ordinary. And way too quiet. Which is why we’re going in to find out what exactly IS going on. Before we blow the place to hell

Page 8

Panel 1

Establishing shot from the sky. The actual view of Perseverance at the same angle as the satellite photo.

Caption: Perseverance.

Panel 2

We see the main street. Shops on all sides, people slowly walking down in single file, oblivious to the world around them, almost like robots. Everything looks clean and new, there is no disorder, no litter on the streets. A young woman, Sarah, is standing outside her car on her phone.

Sarah: Hello? Hello? Bloody reception. Bloody thing. Bloody car.

Panel 3

She throws the phone down. Smoke is rising from her car bonnet.

Sarah: It would HAVE to be the rudeness capitol of America I break down in, wouldn’t it?

Panel 4

She tries to stop a passer-by. They just stare vacantly ahead.

Sarah: Look, sorry but… hello?

Panel 5

The passer-by walks off.

Sarah: Hello? Hello? Am I invisible to you? God this country gets worse and worse

Panel 6

Close-up of Sarah

Sarah: (Yelling) Hello? God? Is there anybody out there? Give me a sign

Panel 7

She pauses like a rabbit in headlights as she is bathed in blue light and a massive DOOM sound.

FX: DOOOOM

Page 9

Panel 1

The street. We see Germain step out in the same formal wear, gun and badge in hand as his team of a dozen soldiers emerge from the Doom Gate behind him. He waves his badge about again

Germain: Okay people, nothing to panic abo.. uh?

Panel 2

We see that people pass by oblivious to their presence

Collins: You would really imagine a government taskforce leaping out of a bright blue circle that’s shouting “DOOM” would at least get some attention.

Panel 3

Quinn hugs himself as the soldiers loiter about looking puzzled

Quinn: This is very odd

Collins: Yes, I noticed that, Einstein.

Panel 4

Quinn is peering at one of the entranced townsfolk, poking him as he walks past

Quinn: Shut up Collins. WHAT’S happening here is the question. Is it a trance? Some sort of technology? Alien possession?

Panel 5

A soldier runs up to Germain

Soldier: Sir, we found a girl hiding under her car praying to God

Germain: Well, I’m not an obnoxious entity with a messiah complex, but I’m the closest you’re going to find. Bring her to me.

Page 10

Panel 1

A second soldier brings Sarah to Germain. She is crying.

Sarah: L-look, I take back what I said, go back to hell or wherever you came from… I think I’m going crazy

Panel 2

Close-up on Germain. He looks taken aback.

Germain: … Sarah?

Panel 3

Sarah is still sniveling, but looks up quizzically

Sarah: …and please don’t hurt me, I didn’t mean to be here and… how do you know my name?

Panel 4

Germain rubs his temple

Germain: You… you just remind me of someone I knew once, that’s all. Collins, get these people off the streets. I don’t know why they’re walking about like dazed daytime TV fans, and I don’t like it.

Sarah: But who are…

Panel 5

Germain is getting a bit annoyed

Germain: Now young lady, you get out of he-

Panel 6

Wide shot. Germain has turned, hand outstretched as if locked around someone’s throat.

Sarah: What the… are you guys the mime police or something?

Page 11

Panel 1

Wider shot. We see the ground. Germain’s shadow is seen clutching another , unattached shadow by its throat. the other shadow is struggling.

Germain: (Through gritted teeth) Shadowmen. They’ve got goddamn SHADOWMEN here. This must be something big.

Panel 2

Soldiers start to run, panicked. Collins is waving them on

Collins: Jesus, everyone MOVE now. We need to get inside.

Sarah: I don’t get it, what’s wrong?

Panel 3

Close-up on Germain, arm still outstretched, looking somewhat strained.

Germain: Look down, keep your head and find me something that looks sharp in silhouette

Sarah: Oh god

Panel 4

Close-up on the ground. Germain’s shadow is seen clutching another, unattached shadow by its throat. the other shadow is struggling.

Sarah: Oh god… they’re everywhere

Page 12

Panel 1

Wide shot. Shadows are everywhere. A soldier falls down dead near Germain

Panel 2

Germain is sweating somewhat, teeth gritted

Germain: Yes yes, quick, give me something… a piece of paper will do.

Panel 3

Sarah fumbles in her purse

Sarah: Here, a banknote. Its only a five

Germain: I… I don’t care. Fold it into a point

Panel 4

Germain holds up the now pointy banknote. He looks pleased with himself

Panel 5

Germain thrusts it into the air. Behind him soldiers are grappling in the air against invisible enemies

Panel 6

We see the shadow at Germain’s feet bleeding darkness as the point goes into it, falling loose

Panel 7

Germain dusts his hands, looking pleased with himself as another soldier falls behind him

Germain: Okay, I guess that means they know we’re here, lets get some cover quick!

Page 13

Panel 1

Germain turns as Collins runs back up, rifle in hand

Collins: Sir, we’ve been trying to get inside. But the doors, they’re just bricked up. Its all fake! It’s a trap!

Panel 2

Wide shot. The street is bathed in shadow, all the houses are dark. The town hall stands in the middle of the scene, bathed in light.

Germain: If its all fake, why’s the town hall wide open? For the fairies? Lets go!

Panel 3

They run. shadows flood the streets. Collins, looks behind him in fear as the soldier next to him falls, dead.

Collins: Ah hell

Panel 4

Germain, leading the group, skids to a halt, surprised

Germain: Nearly there… oh.

Panel 5

At the door, bathed in light, is Richter, gun in hand, and a bunch of soldiers

Richter: Ah, Germain. I have a gift with YOUR name on it

Panel 6

Blam. He shoots Germain.

Panel 7

Fade to black

Page 14

Panel 1

Germain, Collins, Quinn, Sarah and the surviving soldiers are in a dank cell. Germain is pressing a shirt to his bleeding shoulder. Sarah is tending to it.

Caption: Later

Germain: …its really not that bad, honest. I’ve had worse. Its not like I’m bleeding caterpillars or anything.

Quinn: Ugh don’t remind me

Panel 2

Close up on Sarah and Germain. Germain is looking slightly disheveled at this point

Sarah: …so you’re the government, right? I’d hate to think I was running about with the bad guys.

Germain: Unless swastikas have suddenly become the new logo for Benedictine monks, then yes, its a pretty safe bet… ow

Panel 3

Sarah is pushing on his wound, slightly angry

Sarah: Hey, don’t talk to me like I’m twelve, you got me into this mess, you owe me an explanation

Panel 4

Close up on Germain. Quinn leans in.

Germain: Pfft. We’re known as The Montauk Project. For fifty years we’ve been cleaning up the world, taking care of all the weirdness and making this planet a safe place to be.

Quinn: We’re a conspiracy theorists wet dream. Yeti, unicorns, the loch ness monster…

Panel 5

Sarah: What, the Loch Ness Monster is real?

Germain: You know that photo of it that looked a bit like a log?

Panel 6

Sarah: Yeah?

Germain: It was a log.

Sarah: Oh.

Panel 7

Closer on Germain’s face, fading into a scene of men attacking a monstrous log!

Germain: …but it was a vicious log from 200 million years in the past where sentient trees ruled the Earth, blasted free by nearby quarry work. We lost many good men that day.

Page 15

Panel 1

Sarah isn’t looking quite impressed at this point

Sarah: Uuuh. The JFK Assassination?

Panel 2

Germain’s face fades away into another scene, this time a line of people, including families, queuing up as if at a carnival to shoot JFK

Germain: Some guy in the future with a time machine set up the grassy knoll as a spectator sport. There’s currently about forty shooters identified.

Panel 3

Sarah face palms, looking like she’s about to cry at the ridiculousness of it all. Germain is pointing at Quinn and Collins

Sarah: Oh god why is this happening to me? I’m gonna die locked in a cellar with a bunch of government goons, shot in the head by leather nazi fetishists.

Germain: No. No you won’t, I promise. Look, I know you Sarah, we’ve met. In my past and your future. We get a lot of time travel nonsense so I KNOW you survive this. Right now. these bozos are finding a way out of here.

Panel 4

Close-up on Quinn. He is holding a toothpick out triumphantly.

Quinn: Well actually sir, I have this toothpick I hid in my jacket lining. With it, I can jimmy the lock and…

Panel 5

Collin’s leaps at a poor Quinn, grabbing the toothpick

Collins: Give me that! Guard! Guard!

Panel 6i - iii

In quick succession, we see three quick panels, all face close-ups

i) - The door opens

Guard: What? What’s the…

ii) Collins leaps at him, toothpick in hand, quite angry

Collins: AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

iii) Cut to everyone looking away in disgust

Guard (oov): Ach. Mein eyes. Ach! Mein stomach. Ach! Mein pe-

Page 16

Panel 1

Even Germain is wincing as he holds a hand out in front of the scene

Germain: That’s enough Collins, leave the poor man alone

Panel 2

Collins turns, crouched over the body of the guard, bloody toothpick still in his grasp

Collins: But sir, he’s a Nazi, we’re ALLOWED to do stuff like this to them. I’m sure it’s in my contract…

Panel 3

Germain has straightened up, and is looking around, barking out orders

Germain: Listen up. We go straight to the heart of this place, if its the only real building here, its the only place anything interesting will… Collins, don’t bother dressing up as the guard, there’s no time

Panel 4

Collins is halfway through the process of removing all the guard’s clothes

Collins: Uuh yeah, dressing up…

Panel 5

Sarah is pretty much frozen in shock, hand over her mouth. Germain turns to her

Germain: I PROMISE you we’re better than this

Page 17

Panel 1

Two guards are standing by a door looking quite bored

Guard 1: …and if it weren’t for that horse, I wouldn’t have spent that year in college

Guard 2: Wow

Panel 2

Germain pops up behind the guards, grinning widely. One guard starts to turn around

Germain: Excuse me gentlemen, where can I find the toilet?

Guard 1: Oh, its just…

Panel 3

THWAM! As both turn around, Germain punches them both in the face

Panel 4

Germain slams one of the guards against a wall, quite angrily

Germain: Now then, what ARE you up to, buddy? I must warn you, my friend has a VERY sharp toothpick

Panel 5

Closer on the guard, he’s sweating slightly

Guard 1: Hey, hey… this is just a job, no need to hurt me. We… we’re inside a computer. A BIG computer

Panel 6

Germain nonchalantly drops the guard, looking away

Germain: As we theorized. The town is some sort of giant computer. The Mondrian blueprints are a way of discovering truth, people walk along them like data packets… but where’s the processor? There needs to be a focus point…

Panel 7

Quinn is walking along, flicking rapidly through some notes

Quinn: Maybe they’ve got some sort of mystical focus like a talisman. Or a supercomputer. Or a copper Pholot. Or… my god…

Page 18

Panel 1

We see them emerge into the main base of operations. Guards with guns cover them. Richter is standing there, besides a beautiful woman clad in robes, surrounded by runes. He strokes her chin with a mechanical finger.

Richter: No, not YOUR gods, you forgot them. Welcome to the interior.

Panel 2

Close-up on Richter. He sports an evil grin

Richter: Beautiful, isn’t she Germain? We found her alone from her pantheon, bound her in runes and ported her here. Still, a far less… final fate than you would have given her, isn’t it? And you call us the sick ones…

(Link)
Oh, and deus ex machine jokes are verboten. It gets old fast.

Panel 3

Germain strides forwards, everyone in the room pointing a gun at him.

Germain: What you are trying to do here is MADNESS, pure and simple.

Panel 4

Richter strokes a finger down the body of the bound woman, the darkness behind him resolves itself into Shadowmen, eyes visible everywhere

Richter: We have turned mankind into a computer. We are unraveling the codex of the universe, and very soon the very fundamentals of reality will be open to us to do with as we wish.

(link)

You’re a joke, Germain. A petty amusement to pass the time. You’re my reality television - crude, laughable, painful to watch and in the end, utterly disposable. You and your little band only got this far because you weren’t important enough to deal with. Don’t make me have to kill all your little friends. Again.

Panel 5

Germain is closer to Richter now. Richter raises his pistol to point at Germain’s head

Richter: They say that you can’t die Germain, that you made a deal with the devil himself.

Germain: THEY say a lot of things

Page 19

Panel 1

Richter has the gun pressed against Germain’s temple. Germain is standing there just staring calmly at his fob watch

Richter: Indeed they do. I know who you are, I know what you’ve done, and I KNOW about what you did in 1612 you bad BAD boy. Its over. Lie down and gracefully die, your time has come old man.

Panel 2

Germain pauses by the goddess, stroking her chin

Germain: Speaking of time, thanks for letting me keep my watch

Richter: It’s an anachronism, like you. It’s got no fancy gadgets, hidden functions or life-saving devices, has it?

Panel 3

Germain steps forwards, holding his watch so that it fills up the panel. It ticks to the time 4:00 exactly

FX: Tick

Germain: No, but it keeps the time EXCEEDINGLY well

Panel 4

Cut to a digital readout of the same time. 16:00

FX: Tick

Panel 5

Zoom out to a satellite in space, of which the digital readout is a part of. It fires a blinding blue beam at the Earth

FX: Tick

Panel 6

Back in the room. It explodes in light as the beam punches through the roof. People start to scatter. The beam engulfs the goddess

Richter: You… idiot! What have you DONE?

Germain: In the event of capture, at a prearranged time a space borne laser was programmed to pinpoint my location, and then five seconds later, fire

Richter: Goddamn it Germain, next time I’M TYING YOU UP

Page 20

Panel 1

Everything goes up in flames as guards scatter in panic. The laser starts moving, drilling through the building. Sarah turns to Germain accusingly. Germain doesn’t seem to care that much.

Sarah: You BASTARD. This is the worst escape plan EVER! AND you killed that poor woman!

Germain: She’s a god, it just burned off the binding glyphs. Now I think this is our cue to leave!

Panel 2

As everything explodes, Richter still stands tall in the middle of the confusion, directing his remaining guards

Richter: Open fire! Kill them all!

Germain: Oh  yes, DEFINITELY our cue to leave!

Panel 3

The ceiling starts to cave in, aflame, as the building crumbles. Germain and co duck behind a large piece of masonry.

Collins: Bloody hell Germain, you shot an entire town. Got to hand it to you!

Germain: Think of it more as surgery. At least I hope there’s no mystical powers invoked in Jackson Pollock’s work

Panel 4

We see the Shadowmen burnt away by the light of the beam, more lasers raining down, joining the first one as the town is cut to pieces

Panel 5

Germain drags the goddess over. She is unconscious

Collins: Now sir, I know you’re not that good with the ladies, but still…

Panel 6

Germain grips the goddess firmly by the chin

Germain: Shut up.

(Link)

TAKE. US. HOME

Panel 7

The building explodes into a fireball.

Panel 8

Whiteout.

Page 21

Panel 1

White back in. The good guys appear on a grassy mountainside, looking quite disheveled.

Panel 2

Closer on everyone looking about to take their bearings. Quinn adjusts his uniform

Quinn: Uuuh if this is heaven I’m feeling a bit gypped right now.

Panel 3

Germain stands up, brushing himself down and looking about

Germain: Typical. She took HERSELF home. We’re in Greece, if I’m not mistaken.

Panel 4

Sarah waggles a finger at Germain, not too impressed at being stuck in Greece

Sarah: You COULD have asked her nicely, you know. She might have taken you back home AND stuck around

Germain: Yes, well, I’d rather be ALIVE than polite given the choice.

(Link)

RIGHT we’ve got a long way to walk home!

Panel 5

Sarah: Heh. Like you’re going to walk all the way to Montauk from Greece

Germain: Montauk? You really think we’d be stupid enough to house The Montauk Project in MONTAUK? Tell me Sarah, have you ever been to the moon…?

Panel 6

We zoom out as everyone starts walking, tiny against the scenery

Panel 7

Still at the same far away distance. One of them (Sarah) stops, lagging behind the rest of the group.

Sarah: Wait, like that’s any CLOSER..?

Page 22

Panel 1

We see the rubble of the town hall. All is still and smoking.

Panel 2

THOOM. A gauntleted hand smashes out. Richter emerges, disheveled. He is PISSED.

Richter: WHERE is he? WHERE is Germain? I will CRUSH him with my bare hands!

Panel 3

Two bespectacled, trench-coated men stand in front of him, both with identical smirks on their face. One of them extends a hand to help pull Richter from the wreckage

Stranger 1: Strangely enough, Herr Richter, all is well.

Stranger 2: The Fuhrer is pleased despite the loss of the operation. We have already gathered all the necessary data.

Panel 4

Richter is completely hauled out of the rubble now. He brushes himself off with a scowl.

Richter: You mean…

Stranger 1: Yes. Welcome to the Inner Circle, Herr Richter…

Stranger 2: …Though next time, please remember to kill your enemies BEFORE they can escape.

Panel 5

Close-up on Richter’s face, fading into black. He is grinning rather evilly

Richter: Oh I will. You have my WORD on that. We’re going to change the world…

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The goals of the Guys Writing Comics blog are simple;

• To post a new script for a full-sized comic book (around 22-24 pages) every Monday.  Sometimes these will be completely original works, sometimes we’ll be playing in other people’s sandboxes.  Some scripts will be stand alone, others may be part of a larger arc.  Whatever the case we will attempt to tell engaging and enjoyable stories.  Even if, for whatever reason, we can’t post a full script on Monday, SOMETHING will be posted.  Most likely a shorter length piece, or a one-pager with art.

• To improve our writing skills through sticking to this regular schedule.  We’re not professional authors (not yet anyway), but there’s only one way to become a better writer - write, write, and write some more.  Constructive, intelligent critique is both welcomed and encouraged.  If you feel our writing sucks, that’s fine - provided you can break down exactly WHY this is the case.  We’re big boys, we can handle criticism.

That’s it, nice and simple.  The first script will be posted next Monday.  I’m looking forward to it.

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