millarworld.tv Comics Creators

Lunchtime Comics


#1

Just came across some old files I didn’t know I still had. It’s from a few years ago on the forum when I set myself a challenge called “Lunchtime Comics”. On a rainy lunchtime, I would sit in front of a blank screen and start writing the script for whatever came into my head, writing for an hour and stopping, finished or not, and posting that first unedited draft.

So I’ll repost a few. No idea what order I actually wrote them in, but this one is in the earliest dated file (April 2010).

VETERAN COSMIC ROCKER

PAGE 1

PANEL 1

Big panel showing a battle field. Two groups of warring
humanoids are mowing each other down with energy weapons.

Note all narrative “captions” should be framed in a box that
makes it look like we’re reading the screen of a data pad or something.

CAPTION: Planet Tomahh IV. Revolutionary forces of the Free
Republicans against mercenaries of the Democrat Bloc. Third day of fighting.

PANEL 2

A space ship descends over the centre of the battlefield.
It’s big and chunky and businesslike. Fusion exhaust from its landing jets are
indiscriminately annihilating troops on both sides. It’s not a huge ship, just
something that could carry a handful of men. Distinctively marked on the side
in block lettering is the logo “R.O.C.”

CAPTION: R.O.C.: Retribution-Oversight-Control. The
peacekeeping division of the Confederated Colonies.

PAGE 2

PANEL 1

The ship is grounded. Soldiers stop fighting and stare at
it. With a cloud of expelled steam, a hatch cracks open and begins to lower.

SFX: FSSSSHHHH

PANEL 2

The hatch has fully descended and forms a ramp to the
ground. On the ramp is a single figure. This is our titular character: the
ROCKER. He’s wearing chunky armour, as businesslike as his ship, with big
chunky shoulder pads, knee pads, etc. He wears no helmet, allowing us the see
that he’s pretty old (hence “veteran”) with receding long grey hair pulled back
into a ponytail. He wears red wraparound shades and a scar runs vertically (or
nearly) over one eye, visible both above and below the shades. He has a big
hi-tech gun cradled in his arms and an even bigger gun slung over his back. Yet
another gun, a pistol is strapped to one thigh and a big combat knife is
strapped to another. He will have other bits of equipment in on his belt and on
the cross-straps on his chest. Grenades, extra ammo, stuff like that. The
“R.O.C.” logo is prominent in some suitable place on his armour (maybe on a
shoulder pad).

RANDOM ALIEN SOLDIER: gasp A rocker!

CAPTION: “Rocker”: colloquial; an agent of R.O.C. division.

PANEL 3

The Rocker is striding down the ramp and firing energy bolts
indiscriminately into the massed soldiers, killing those on both sides.

CAPTION: Steinway Industries 2.5MJ Pulse Cannon.

RANDOM SOLDIERS: Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

RANDOM SOLDIERS: Aaaaaaaaa!

PAGE 3

PANEL 1

The rocker is striding through the soldiers. Some are firing
back at him but their shots are being deflected by his armour. Oddly, though
his head is bare nobody is firing at that. (You have to suspend your disbelief
to allow the visuals to be more dramatic.)

PANEL 2

The soldiers part to reveal an armoured vehicle, a hovering
tank with a massive gun traversing round to aim at the Rocker.

CAPTION: Heavy Fighting Vehicle, “Metal” class.

PANEL 3

Rocker dives and rolls as the tank fires, the pulse of
energy passing over his head and annihilating a group of soldiers behind him.
(Yes, it’s meant to be ridiculous.)

SXX: FOOM!

PANEL 4

On his knees, the Rocker has taken the massive gun off his
back and blasts at the tank, a beam of energy that slices right through its
armour.

CAPTION: Gibson Maser Cannon Model IX.

SFX: ZZZZAAAAATTTTT

PAGE 4

PANEL 1

The Rocker walks away from the tank as it explodes behind
him. As he goes, he smashes the butt of the Gibson Maser Cannon into the face
of a convenient soldier.

SFX: BOOM!!!

PANEL 2

The Rocker reaches a low concrete bunker.

PANEL 3

Close up of the Rocker’s head showing his cool wrap-around
shades.

CAPTION: Sensor Head-up Ambient Display Enhancement System.
Colloquially: “Shades”.

PANEL 4

A “SHADES view” of the bunker (the panel shaped to mirror
the profile of the shades). We can see “x-ray” outlines of two men inside. Data
scrolls down the side of the display as follows:

RANGE: 3.5m

COMPOSITION: 200mm FERROCONCRETE

LIFEFORMS: 2

RECOMMENDATION: PYRO CHARGE

PAGE 5

PANEL 1

Close-up of the Rocker taking a small square block out of a
pouch on his bandolier.

PANEL 2

The Rocker slaps the block onto the wall of the bunker,
where it sticks.

CAPTION: “Pyro”: Pyroclastic thermite explosive charge

PANEL 3

The Rocker turns his back on the bunker and shields his head
as the charge explodes spectacularly.

SFX: BOOM!

PANEL 4

The bunker has a neat hole blasted in the side.

PANEL 5

The Rocker enters the bunker. Two humanoid aliens are here.
One cowers by some equipment, the other confronts the Rocker. This one is
dressed in some impressive dress uniform decorated with campaign ribbons, etc.
(We’ll label his captions as “General”.)

PAGE 6

PANEL 1

A “SHADES view” of the General, showing his face next to a
“mug shot” and the scrolling text displays:

POSITIVE IDENTIFICATION

GENERAL BRAN LUPO

PANEL 2

The Rocker has drawn his pistol and is aiming at the
General.

ROCKER: General Bran Lupo, under the authority of
Retribution-Oversight-Control, I am arresting you for war crimes and taking you
to stand trial on Nuveau Hague.

CAPTION: Nuveau Hague: Centre of justice for the
Confederated Colonies.

PANEL 3

The General tries to bluster his way out.

GENERAL: I do not recognise the authority of the
Confederated Colonies! Tomahh IV.is seceding–

PANEL 4

The Rocker fires his pistol. The General is surrounded in a
lightning-filled bubble (like those glass discharge globes).

SFX: ZZZZGGGTTTT!

CAPTION: Neural stun charge. Colloquially: “AMP”.

PANEL 5

The Rocker has the General slung over his shoulder and is
walking back out of the bunker.

THE END.


#2

Guess what the next MillarWorld release will be?


#3

That’s a really interesting challenge. I do something similar as a writing warm-up. It’s the challenge to write a story from scratch with a beginning, middle and an end in one page.

And please, please post some more. I really enjoyed that.


#4

Thanks :smile:

I can already see things I should have done differently. For example random-sf-name general should have been something like GENERAL JARVIZ KOKKER and be wanted for CRIMES AGAINST ROC. Etc. Also, I can’t believe I missed the obvious dogfight scene between STRATOCASTER and FLYING-V aircraft.


#5

Another one from April 2010 (though I’m not convinced that’s the right date). I don’t recall if I ever had a story for this, it seems more like an interesting concept that was hoping a story would turn up.

COVEN

ISSUE 1

PAGE 1

PANEL 1

Open with a vision of a bleak landscape: a featureless heath
rolling away to the horizon; dark, forbidding clouds; slanting rain; everything
looks grey and gloomy.

CAPTION: When I was last here, it was beautiful.

PANEL 2

Close up on a man’s foot splashes into a patch of mud. He is
walking next to a weed-choked, slimy pond. He is wearing light casual shoes and
thin trousers, not at all suitable for the terrain.

CAPTION: We picnicked by this pond.

PANEL 3

Now we see the man standing and looking around the heath. He
is alone in the desolation. The rest of his clothing is just as inappropriate:
short-sleeved shirt, no coat. His hair and clothing is being soaked by rain and
blown by a strong wind.

CAPTION: This should not have happened.

PANEL 4

Identical panel but he’s now wearing suitable clothing:
walking boots and a heavy coat. There is no other change in the scene or in his
stance.

CAPTION: We control every element of this place. It looks
how we want it to look.

PAGE 2

PANEL 1

Same scene. A woman is now standing behind the man. She
wears a long cloak that covers her to ankle level (footwear is suitable for the
environment) with a hood that covers her head. You can’t see her arms beneath
her cloak. The cloak seems unaffected by the wind.

WOMAN: Hello, Nicholas.

PANEL 2

The man turns to face her.

NICHOLAS: Kristina! What happened here? Who did this?

KRISTINA: You really don’t know?

PANEL 3

Kristina turns her back and starts to walk away from
Nicholas.

KRISTINA: I thought you would feel it. I felt it instantly.

NICHOLAS: Felt what?

PANEL 4

Stopping some yard away from him, she half turns back to him
and lowers her hood so we can see her face. She is beautiful, with immaculate
make-up and her hair in an elaborate style (untouched by the wind). The arms
that are raised to lower her hood are bare. She looks like she’s at a cocktail
party, not walking on a blasted heath.

KRISTINA: Peter is dead.

PANEL 5

Close up on Nicholas, shocked by the news.

NICHOLAS: What? No… no, that’s not possible.

PAGE 3

PANEL 1

Close up on the woman, smiling slightly.

KRISTINA: Oh, Nicholas. You were always the naive one. Of
course it’s possible. Despite our gifts, we are not immortal. We can be struck
down by superior power.

PANEL 2

Back to Nicholas, who is frowning.

NICHOLAS: Superior… power…?

KRISTINA (off panel): This plane reflects our shared
consciousness. It was beautiful when the coven was in harmony. When the harmony
is broken…

PANEL 3

Kristina spreads her arms to indicate the surroundings, leaving
her statement unfinished.

No dialogue.

PANEL 4

Back to Nicholas.

NICHOLAS: Broken…?

NICHOLAS: One of US did this? Killed Peter?

PANEL 5

Back to Kristina, still smiling.

KRISTINA: Yes.

NICHOLAS (off-panel): Who?

KRISTINA: Poor, stupid, Nicholas.

PAGE 4

PANEL 1

A wide view of the two of them. Kristina has flung back the
cloak (she IS wearing a cocktail dress beneath it) and stretched one arm
towards Nicholas. Bolts of energy streak from her fingers and strike him,
hurling him back and to the ground. In the background, forked lightning splits
the sky.

No dialogue.

PANEL 2

Nicholas struggles to rise from the ground, his eyes on
Kristina. His coat and boots have gone, he’s back to the thin clothes we first
saw him in, and the front of the shirt is in tatters. He seems essentially unharmed,
however.

NICHOLAS: Why…?

KRISTINA: Because I can.

PANEL 3

Another bolt lances from her fingertips. But Nicholas has
vanished and it strikes the ground harmlessly.

PANEL 4.

Close-up on Kristina, looking irritated.

KRISTINA: Hmm. More powerful than he lets on.

PAGE 5

PANEL 1

The bedroom of a wealthy man. Nicholas lies on the floor,
struggling to rise, just as we last saw him. His clothing is intact and dry and
free of mud.

The floor is bare wood, and where he sits he is surrounded
by a white painted circle with “mystical” symbols painted around it. (The
symbols don’t need to be anything real; this is a story, not an exploration of
real magic.) In the background, a phone is ringing.

SFX: riiiiing

PANEL 2

Nicholas sits on the bed. A phone is on the bedside table,
along with a bottle of scotch and a glass. He is pouring a glass while reaching
for the phone.

SFX: riiiiing

PANEL 3

He is speaking into phone.

NICHOLAS: Hello.

VOICE: Nick! It’s Peter. He’s… he’s…

NICHOLAS: I know.

CAPTION: Andrew. Our leader.

PANEL 4

Nicholas is knocking back the scotch.

VOICE: I’m summoning the coven. I’ve told everyone, except I
can’t get hold of Kristina.

VOICE: My house. One hour.

PANEL 5

Nicholas is hanging up the phone.

CAPTION: Andrew wouldn’t gather us at his own house without
a good reason.

CAPTION: It means he’s scared.

CAPTION: Because that’s where he feels safest. On his own
turf, surrounded by his own wards.


#6

Good morning Dave. The biggest complement that I can give you is that I came to the end and wanted to know more.

On separate note, I read this while having breakfast. So, if you are ever looking for someone to contribute a blurb for the collected edition, I will be happy to offer something like “David Meadows: A talented writer and perfect accompaniment to Poached eggs on toast and Coffee” :wink: No need to thank me.


#7

Great stuff, David. Makes me nostalgic for the SFL… you had some fun scripts then as well.


#8

I dunno what this one was all about, except I clearly liked the idea of a Wonder Woman clone wearing the Union Jack. “Britannia” was going to be the name of the character, of course.

BRITANNIA

PAGE 1

PANEL 1

Close up of a hand writing on a yellowed page with a quill
pen. The hand is that of an old man. The text he’s writing on the journal page
will continue as captions throughout the remainder of the issue, and this panel
shows the journal itself to illustrate this.

JOURNAL: Today is 20th March 2078. I am sure about the date,
as I know how to observe the Equinox.

PANEL 2

Now a full-shot of the old man as he sits writing. He is
sitting on a box and using a larger box as his table. There is a pot of ink on
the table, but no other features of his room need to be shown. Behind him (basically
the entire panel background) is a large expanse of white glass – white, not
transparent, so we can’t see through it but we can see light flooding through
it to illuminate the man. In fact, we don’t need to show him in detail – he can
be a silhouette against the white of the window. The window itself is a huge
(like, 20 feet across) clock face, but seen in reverse. Thus we can probably
see parts of black Roman numerals “V” and “VI” behind the man, but reversed. Also
black lettering running along the base of the glass: “DOMINE SALVAM FAC REGINAM
NOSTRAM” but again in reverse. There may have been other lettering once but it
has become erased or obscured. There are several cracks running through the
glass.

JOURNAL: I am less sure about the year. But 2078 seems
correct.

PANEL 3

Now we see the clock face from the other side, i.e. the
exterior. And it should be obvious to anybody that it’s Big Ben in London. But
just the top of the Big Ben tower, sticking up from what seems to be a pool of
swampy water. The tower shows signs of damage to the masonry, as well as the
cracks in the clock face, and the clock hands are missing. The iron spire from
the top is missing, too.

JOURNAL: That would make it 66 years after the End.

PANEL 4

Now a panoramic view of the surroundings. A few things
become apparent. First, it’s a swamp. London has become a swamp, patches of
solid ground and vegetation amid pools of open water. Second, the swamp isn’t
200 feet deep with the Big Ben tower sunk all the way into it. Instead, the
tower has been smashed and what we see is just the clock section which has
somehow fallen right-side-up and remained intact. We can tell that the clock is
at ground level because the ruined – and I mean, completely ruined, bombed-out
and overgrown by the swamp’s vegetation – Palace of Westminster is standing
next to it. Other ruins lie in the background.

JOURNAL: The End was not what my father’s generation thought
it would be. Humanity did not blow itself up in nuclear Armageddon, or poison
its planet with industrial pollution. They did not drown themselves in melting
ice, nor die of man-made diseases running amok. The End came from…

PAGE 2

PANEL 1

Splash page showing a road running along the bottom of a
shallow cutting, with slopes rising either side to wooded crests. The road is
paved, but the surface is broken with bits of vegetation growing through it.

Moving along the road is a line of what are obviously prisoners,
20 or 30 men and women, dressed in rags and chained together.

Escorting these prisoners are what appear to be “lizard
men”, humanoid creatures but with scaly green skin (probably like alligator
skin) and wearing strange silvery garments. Their weapons include metallic
whips and metal staves, which they are using to chivvy the prisoners along.
These weapons are obviously a hi-tech design, because where one of them is
applying his whip to a human we can see a flash of energy at the impact. There
are probably half a dozen of them.

At the head of the line is a giant robot, or maybe a giant
mech, ok, not that giant, but say twice as high as a man and pretty bulky. Its
armoured bulk gives the impression of it being a war machine but the weapons
are not obvious at the moment.

JOURNAL: Beyond this world.

JOURNAL: Humanity stood no chance. Our technology was
neutralised in the first strike. Nobody even understood how. Our people were
subjugated within weeks. We had nothing that could stand against an alien invasion.

JOURNAL: Where was Dan Dare when we needed him? Where was
King Arthur? Robin Hood? Where were our heroes?

PAGE 3

PANEL 1

Close up on the face of a young woman. Long, dark hair, blue
eyes. Her only make up is a stripe of blue “war paint” running horizontally
under her eyes and over the bridge of her nose. She is screaming a war cry.

JOURNAL: After searching for my entire life, I believe I
have found our hero.

WOMAN: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

PANEL 2

A wider view shows the woman is standing on one of the
hilltops above the road, lofting a spear above her head and screaming her
challenge at the alligator men down below. The spear is maybe four feet long
and its head is a long and broad metal blade so it can be used as a slashing
weapon as well as a stabbing one. It appears to be her only weapon. She wears a
leather tunic that reveals bare arms and legs muscled like an athlete. On her
feet are sandals with lacing up her calves. She wears a cape that seems to be
made of a large Union Jack flag (perhaps tattered at the edges). Flanking her
are a dozen men, dressed in a mixture of skins, leather, and maybe the odd
piece of “old” 20th-century clothing – one might wear a hoodie, etc. Each
wields a primitive weapon: axe, mace, spear, etc.

PANEL 3

This bunch is charging down the hill towards the lizards.

PANEL 4

The lizards start fighting back. Their staff weapons fire
bolts of energy, and a couple of the human attackers go down in the first
volley.

PAGE 4

PANEL 1

The surviving attackers reach the lizards and it’s a
confused melee. The lizards fire their staffs when they can, and use them as
hand-to-hand weapons where they can’t. Plus they have the whips, which give
them a longer reach. The humans are not doing very well against them. Note that
the attack has been at the back of the line of prisoners, so we can ignore the
robot for now. Also note that the chained prisoners don’t do much except cower.

The next few panels of the fight will focus on the woman.
Where we see her companions in the background, they are generally being killed
by lizards.

PANEL 2

She dodges under the blast of a staff weapon at point blank
range.

PANEL 3

Spinning and swinging the spear, she slices open the belly
of the lizard who blasted at her. Whatever their shiny, hi-tech clothing is, it
isn’t blade proof.

PANEL 4

Another lizard is raising his whip, and a swing of the spear
slices his hand clean off.

PAGE 5

PANEL 1

Another lizard man falls, this one with the spear point
through his throat. But as he falls backwards, the spear is pulled from the
woman’s hands.

PANEL 2

Unarmed, she steps inside the reach of a lizard who was
attempting to blast her, grabbing his weapon arm…

PANEL 3

…And twists the arm so that the weapon blasts the robot,
which has finally lumbered into view. (It’s the lizard actually firing the
weapon, the woman is only directing his aim.) The blast hits the mech squarely
in the chest and melts its armour but doesn’t stop it.

PANEL 4

The mech has raised an arm, which has morphed into a weapon
and blasts a spray of energy at the woman, who is diving forward under its
fire. The blasts actually kill the lizard she was grappling with.

PAGE 6

PANEL 1

Tucked into a somersaulting ball, she smashes into the
mech’s leg.

PANEL 2

Unbalanced, the mech topples to the floor.

PANEL 3

She pulls a huge mace out of the dead hand of one of her
former comrades who has fallen nearby.

PANEL 4

Hefting the mace in both hands, she swings with her full
strength and weight and smashes it down on the weakened chest armour. She
smashes right through and something explodes deep within the chest.


#9

Another supernatural thingy. I think I can remember what all this was about and I’m sure it would have all made sense around… issue 20 or so…

ENCLAVE

ISSUE 1

PAGE 1

PANEL 1

A man lies asleep in a bedroom. A clock on the nightstand
reads 4:00.

SFX: THUD THUD THUD THUD.

PANEL 2

The man is stumbling towards the door. We can see it’s a
one-room apartment, or maybe a hotel room because there are very few personal
possessions around. The man is youthful, maybe 30, and in his semi-dressed
state we can see a trim but ordinary physique. This is JON.

SFX: THUD THUD THUD THUD.

JON: Coming. Coming!

PANEL 3

The man opens the door and squints into the lighted
corridor. We can’t see the person he is looking at yet, we just see Jon’s
dumbfounded expression.

JON: How the hell did you find me here?

PANEL 4

View of the man in the corridor. He’s middle-aged, maybe 20
years older than Jon, also trim and fit and otherwise undistinguished. He’s
wearing a heavy coat, as if he’s come in from a cold night. This is GREG.

GREG: We can find you anywhere.

GREG: Get dressed. You’re coming with me on a 7 A.M. flight
back to England.

PANEL 5

Jon begins to shut the door.

JON: Go to hell.

PANEL 6

Before the door can shut, Greg holds up a newspaper. It’s a
provincial English paper called MIDDLETON GAZETTE. The headline reads LOCAL
COUNCILLOR DEAD. The story starts “Popular local councillor Andrew Mills was
found dead at his home on Tuesday. He died peacefully of a heart attack” and
the rest of the text can be greeked after this. There’s a photo of a smiling
middle-aged man in a business suit. He looks like an older version of JON, a
definite family resemblance. Elsewhere on the page, a smaller column heading
reads COUNCILLOR OPPOSES RETAIL DEVELOPMENT.

JON (off panel): Bloody hell.

PAGE 2

PANEL 1

In the room, Jon is fully dressed and packing clothes in a
suitcase. Greg sits on a chair, watching him.

JON: We don’t HAVE heart attacks, Greg.

GREG: I know.

PANEL 2

Same scene, Jon fastening the lid of the suitcase.

JON: Who did it? Hell, HOW did they–

GREG: We don’t know. Either answer. That’s why you need to
come back, Jonathan.

PANEL 3

Jon stands, holding the suitcase.

JON: Let’s go.

PANEL 4

In the corridor, Jon is locking the room door after them.
Greg has put a hand on his arm.

GREG: Jon… I’m sorry.

JON: About what? About my father dying?

PANEL 5

Jon walks away from Greg (and our POV).

JON: Or about dragging me back to the village after all that
happened before?

PAGE 3

PANEL 1

A different scene. It’s the office of a well-off
businessman. The middle-aged businessman in question, JACK PINTER, sits behind
his desk wearing an immaculately tailored
suit and a carefully neutral expression. In front of him is another man,
younger, this one wearing an off-the-peg suit and shabby raincoat. This is BOB SUMMERS.

PINTER: I’m a busy man, mister…

SUMMERS: Summers. And I know you are, Mr Pinter. I won’t
take more than a few moments of your time. It’s about Andrew Mills.

PANEL 2

Close up of Pinter’s composed face.

PINTER: Yes, I read about it. Tragic. But hardly anything I
can comment on.

PANEL 3

Summers has produced a large brown envelope and is removing
some photographs from it.

SUMMERS: And yet, Mr Pinter, it appears you were the last to
see him alive.

PINTER: Really? I hardly think so…

PANEL 4

Summers has laid down a photograph on the desk. It shows
Pinter and Andrew Mills standing by a car somewhere on a road in open country.
It is late at night.

SUMMERS: I took these the night before he… mysteriously
died.

PINTER: Oh yes. I recall now. We were discussing…

PANEL 5

Summers has laid down a second photo. This shows Pinter
meeting with another man, this one indoors, possibly a hotel lobby.

SUMMERS: …Your retail development, which he was strongly
opposing. Yes. Do you recognise this one?

SUMMERS: Let me save you the effort. Howard Randall. A
business rival. Taken two days before he died… of a heart attack.

PANEL 6

Pinter and Summers face each other over the desk. Pinter’s
mask has cracked and he’s looking pissed.

SUMMERS: People who oppose you have an odd habit of dying
through… remarkably similar “natural” causes.

PINTER: Oh dear.

PAGE 4

PANEL 1

Close-up on Pinter. His eyes are glowing red.

PINTER: This is most unfortunate.

PANEL 2

The remaining photos are falling from Summers’ hand as he
staggers and clutches his chest.

SUMMERS: Aaaa–

PANEL 3

Summers crumples to the floor.

PINTER: Moving the bodies is always SO inconvenient.

PAGE 5

PANEL 1

Jon and Greg are in a car, Greg driving. They are driving through
southern English countryside. It’s a bright, sunny, spring morning.

GREG: Do you want to go home first?

JON: Is that where he is?

GREG: No. Funeral parlour.

JON: I’ll go there first.

PANEL 2:

The car turns down a narrow road signposted MIDDLETON.

PANEL 3

The car is driving through a built-up area, a small town centre,
full of people shopping. The street contains a funeral parlour.

GREG: Damn it, Jon, you’ve not said more than ten words in
the last 12 hours.

PANEL 4

The car is parked outside the funeral parlour and they are
both on the pavement.

JON: What the hell do you want me to say? “It’s nice to be
back”? I spent ten years trying to forget all this existed!

PANEL 5

The two of them stand in a room in the funeral parlour. An
open coffin lies on a table.

GREG: Do you want me to stay?

JON: No. I’ll do it on my own.

PAGE 6

PANEL 1

Alone, Jon is standing by the coffin. He looks down at the
corpse of Andrew Mills.

JON: Hello, Dad.

PANEL 2

Close-up of Jon’s face. His eyes are glowing red.

JON: I said HELLO, DAD.

PANEL 3

In the coffin, Andrew Mills’ eyes are open. They also glow
red.

ANDREW: Hello, Jon.

ANDREW: Oh.

ANDREW: Bugger.

ANDREW: This is a coffin, isn’t it?

PANEL 4

Mills senior is still in the coffin. Mills junior looks down
at him.

ANDREW: Well, this is a shocker. Who did me in?

JON: That’s what I’m hoping you’ll tell me. They say it was
natural causes. Heart attack.

ANDREW: But we don’t have heart attacks…

PANEL 5

Close up of Jon.

JON: I know. Perfect health. The only good thing we get out
of the deal.

ANDREW (off-panel): I would say the ONLY good thing, son. Being
able to talk to your old man’s ghost when he’s dead… you can’t complain about
that, can you?

PANEL 6

Close-up of Andrew, winking lewdly.

ANDREW: And there’s that thing with the ladies. Can’t
complain about that, can you?

PAGE 7

PANEL 1

Jon has his hands balled into fists.

JON: God damn it, shut the hell up and tell me how you died
so we can get this over with.

PANEL 2

Close-up of Andrew again.

ANDREW: Sorry, son. Don’t know. Something powerful hit me.
Powerful like us, I mean, but not from the village… Someone new.

ANDREW: But it’s blank. Like it ripped the memory out when
it killed me.

ANDREW: You’ll need to find out who, Jon. For everyone’s
sake.

PANEL 3

Jon is walking out of the room.

JON: Sleep well, Dad.

ANDREW: Thanks, son. I’ll see you around…


#10

It’s not going to be like the end of Lost is it? Please don’t tell me it’s going to be like the end of Lost.

I really liked it though.


#11

This one is a pretty standard superhero idea. I think the fact that I rattled through nearly 8 pages shows not a lot of thought went into it…

NEON KNIGHT

ISSUE 1

PAGE 1

Panel 1 runs along the top of the page and panels 2-5 are
tall narrow strips that run the remaining length of the page, tall and thin
because we want to show vertical movement.

PANEL 1

The interior of the UN council chamber, packed with UN
delegates in debate over some issue. The Secretary General is on the podium. (The
S.G. will be a woman, elderly, short greying hair. Probably would be played by
Judy Dench in a movie.)

CAPTION: THE UNITED NATIONS, NEW YORK.

PANEL 2

A view of empty blue sky (ok, maybe a couple of wispy
clouds) showing a bright light at the top of the panel.

PANEL 3

Same view (though tracking down, so the clouds have moved
(aha, that’s why we need clouds). The glow is descending down the panel,
leaving a streak of light behind it. Like a shooting star heading straight
down.

PANEL 4

Same view, still tracking down, the “shooting star” still
plummeting down.

PANEL 5

Same view. The view has tracked down far enough for the UN
building to be visible at the bottom of the panel. The shooting star is heading
straight for it.

PAGE 2

PANEL 1

The UN council chamber. The ceiling in front of the podium
is exploding inwards.

PANEL 2

Same view, but now we can see what is crashing through the
ceiling – not a missile or a bomb, but a man. He is falling uncontrolled among
the rubble, so this isn’t an attack it’s more of a crash. He wears a skin-tight
white suit with glowing metal plates protecting chest, forearms, metal boots,
metal half-helmet leaving his face exposed (so it’s kind of a cut-down suit of
armour). Falling next to him is a plain staff weapon, about four feet long and
also glowing. Delegates are beginning to rise to their feet in panic.

PANEL 3

The glowing man hits the floor in front of the Secretary
General’s podium.

PAGE 3

PANEL 1

The S.G. and a couple of aides are rushing towards the
motionless man.

AIDE 1: Security!

AIDE 2: Madam secretary, get back!

PANEL 2

The S.G. is kneeling next to the man.

S.G.: Never mind security, get a medic in here!

PANEL 3

The man’s eyes open and he is speaking to her. His words are
in an alien language, which we should represent in his captions by a made-up
squiggly alphabet.

MAN: squiggle squiggle squiggle.

PANEL 4

The S.G. touches the earpiece in her ear.

S.G.: What did he say?

PANEL 5

Cut to a room full of dozens of people sitting at desks. The
UN’s corps of interpreters, who instantly translate every speech into the
hundred languages of the UN delegates. They are all looking puzzled, shrugging,
whispering to each other, etc. We should get the picture – none of them have a clue what he said.

PAGE 4

PANEL 1

Close on one interpreter who is looking at a camera view of
the drama being played out on the UN floor and speaking into her headset
microphone.

INTERPRETOR: Madam Secretary…

PANEL 2

Back to the council chamber, where a ring of people have
formed around the threat (some are obviously armed security, others are diplomats
or flunkeys trying to get an idea of what is happening). The Secretary General
is still kneeling next to him.

VOICE (from earpiece): …we don’t believe it is a human
language.

S.G.: Gott in Himmel.

PANEL 3

Paramedics are now on the scene and working over the fallen
figure. The S.G. has stood to face the assembled cloud.

S.G.: Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we may be witnessing
the first alien landing on Earth.

PANEL 4

Close up on the “alien”. He is feebly trying to stop a
paramedic from putting an oxygen mask over his face.

ALIEN (soft voice, in English): Not the first…

PANEL 5

The alien seems unconscious again and the paramedics are
carefully lifting him onto a gurney.

PAGE 5

This is a page of TV screens (a 3x4 grid on the page). Each
one shows a different reporter for a different network (not all American – we
should see the BBC, Al Jazera, something from China, etc.).

SCREEN 1

NEWSREADER: No official word from the United Nations on

SCREEN 2

NEWSREADER: the identity of the man who crashed through the
council chamber

SCREEN 3

NEWSREADER: roof. But one thing seems sure: it

SCREEN 4

NEWSREADER: wasn’t human!

SCREEN 5

NEWSREADER: Eyewitnesses have variously described,

SCREEN 6

NEWSREADER: “An armoured man, like a knight,” and

SCREEN 7

NEWSREADER: “A man glowing like a neon sign.”

SCREEN 9

NEWSREADER: What is the origin of this… this…

SCREEN 10

NEWSREADER: “Neon Knight,” and, more importantly,

SCREEN 11

NEWSREADER: what are his intentions?

SCREEN 12

NEWSREADER: The world waits for the response of the
politicians as…

PAGE 6

PANEL 1

The White House, exterior.

VOICE (from within): Mr President, this being needs to be in
a military facility not a civilian hospital!

VOICE (from within): General, I understand your concern, but
if we make this a military matter then the international community…

PANEL 2

Chinese government building, exterior.

VOICE (from within): We cannot allow the Americans to gain a
military advantage from this!

Panel 3

The Kremlin, exterior.

VOICE (from within): He is in a civilian hospital and barely
guarded!

VOICE (from within): The Americans are not so stupid. They
know that no nation will dare call down the wrath of an alien people by harming
an ambassador.

PANEL 4

A cave mouth, possibly in Afghanistan.

VOICE (from within): We shall destroy this creature before the Americans can corrupt him! Allah be
praised!

VOICES (from within): Allah be praised!

PAGE 7

PANEL 1

A meeting room. The S.G. of the UN sits at a table with five
men – the senior representatives of the Security Council.

S.G.: Gentlemen, this matter MUST be dealt with
transparently by the United Nations. If any country believes any other country
is profiting unequally from an alien contact–

RUSSIA: Very good, but our sources tell us that the
Americans have already confiscated his weapon.

AMERICA: There is absolutely NO proof that it is a weapon…

CHINA: So you ADMIT you have it?

AMERICA: Gentleman, we have merely secured it for study.

BRITAIN: Study by whom?

RUSSIA: We DEMAND equal access to it!

PANEL 3

The interior of an armoured vehicle. Four American marines,
fully armed, sit guarding the glowing staff --except, it’s no longer glowing.
It’s chained to a metal plate in the middle of the vehicle and the marines have
their eyes riveted to it.

MARINE 1: This is a hoax isn’t it?

MARINE 2: Search me. But they want this thing in the deepest
hole in America, that’s where it’s gonna–

PANEL 4

Same view. The staff is now glowing.

MARINE 3: Holy crap!

PANEL 5

The chains binding the staff are melting.

MARINE 4: Whatdowedo? Whatdowedo?

PANEL 6

The staff suddenly takes flight and smashes out through the
armoured hull of the vehicle.

MARINE 1: Uh…I don’t think it’s our problem any more.

PAGE 8

PANEL 1

A busy hospital corridor. Our attention will focus on two
uniformed cops, as their conversation is going to fill us in on what’s
happening with the alien.

COP 1: Man, guarding aliens! I would never have believed it.

COP 2: I don’t know who we’re guarding. Us from him, or him
from the mob downstairs.

COP 1: Yeah, have you seen that? Every crazy in New York
wants a piece of him.


#12

There seems to have been a gap in production, as this file is dated 2011.

I don’t have much memory of this. Clearly I was setting up something with an epic background but where it would have gone is anybody’s guess.

PRIMORDIAL

ISSUE 1

PAGE 1

Single panel. This is a representation of the early seconds
of the universe. Of course nobody knows what that looks like, so we’ll just
have it be a big swirl of abstract shape and colour, like if Picasso was
painting the universe.

The voices on this panel are disembodied, so we need speech
bubbles without tails. Every voice will be in a different colour (different
coloured lettering on the standard white background) , so I will identify them here
only by their colour.

RED VOICE: Behold our work!

BLACK VOICE: It is good!

YELLOW VOICE: And it will continue for eternity, unfolding automatically
according to the laws we have set.

RED VOICE: Eternity?

BLACK VOICE: Automatically?

YELLOW VOICE: Yes! We need labour no more!

BLACK VOICE: Then…

RED VOICE: What are we going to do now?

PAGE 2

Panel 1

This is an ordinary teenage boy’s bedroom on 21st-century
Earth. It’s got Posters on the wall, a Play station heaps of clothes spilling
out of the wardrobe, etc. Nothing unusual at all.

Stretched out on top of the bed lies our protagonist, MATT. He’s
an ordinary teenage boy in every respect, slim build, seventeen years old, average
height, brown hair of indifferent length and indifferently combed, wearing unremarkable t-shirt, jeans and
sneakers. His eyes are closed.

CAPTION: 13.75 billion years
later.

Panel 2

Closer view on Matt. He hasn’t moved but his eyes are now
open – and are solid yellow, with no visible irises of pupils.

VOICE (OFF PANEL): Matt! School!

Panels 3-6 or whatever

The rest of the page is a montage of Matt going downstairs,
grabbing a piece of toast from the kitchen, kissing his mother (she is dressed
for the office), arguing with his younger sister (9 years old, same hair colour
as Matt and his mother, completely average), grabbing a school bag, leaving the
house, walking down an unremarkable suburban street. Or whatever fits the page.
Basically as much as is required to show that he’s an ordinary boy with an
ordinary family in an ordinary house doing ordinary things. His eyes are a
normal brown colour throughout this sequence.

PAGE 3

Panel 1

Matt sits at a desk in a classroom, surrounded by his
class-mates. Rather than paying attention to the lesson, he is staring out of
the window at the sunny spring day. The teacher is off panel.

TEACHER (off-panel): Matt Gravin. Mister
Gravin!

Panel 2

Now we see the teacher, a peevish-looking middle-aged man.
He stands in front of a blackboard that has a diagram of orbiting planets on
it. Other students are looking at Matt with various expressions of amusement,
scorn, and glee. We can see this because we are obviously looking at the
teacher from Matt’s POV at the back of the class so we can see the students who
have turned round. (Some of these students will be the friends we see in later
pages, so their appearances should match.)

TEACHER: As you clearly don’t need to listen to my
explanation, perhaps you can tell
the class how we would calculate the gravity acting on this object.

Panel 3

Close view of Matt. His eyes are solid yellow again, and let’s letter
his speech in yellow, too.

MATT: Force equals mass of the first body times the mass of
the second body divided by distance squared, multiplied by the gravitational
constant, which is approximately 73.6687 times 10 to the minus 11, when the
units are metres, kilograms and seconds.

Panel 4

The other student look at Matt with surprise and awe. The
POV of this scene should be contrived to show us his face again, so that we can
see his eyes are normal.

TEACHER (off-panel): Yes… well clearly Mr Gravin has been
reading ahead. Well done. Now let us turn to…

PAGE 4

Panel 1

Lunch time, Matt is sitting on the grass outside his school with
some fellow students. He is taking a plastic sandwich box out of his bag. There
are three guys with him: JASON, MIKE and ANDY (I’m not going to give their
names in dialogue, but they will be recurring characters so we’ll learn them
eventually). We should have seen them already in the classroom. Their
appearances are unimportant to the story, so whatever the artist feels looks
right. But basically they are a bunch of unremarkable kids that you wouldn’t
look twice at in the street.

ANDY: I got peanut butter again.

MIKE: Want to trade?

ANDY: For your
mom’s sandwiches? No way!

JASON: Hey, Matt—

Panel 2

They stop their banter and turn to look at Matt, who is
staring at a sandwich in his hand but has not yet taken a bite out of it.

JASON: Why’d you read all that extra science stuff?

MATT: I didn—

ANDY: It’s to impress Marcie Brockman, isn’t it?

Panel 3

Matt’s friends find this hilarious, but Matt doesn’t join in
the laughter a distant look.

MATT: Cut it out!

MATT: I’ve been remembering weird stuff. Like…

Panel 4

His friends have stopped laughing and now look at him
curiously.

MATT: Have you ever felt that you remember things that
couldn’t possibly have happened?

ANDY: Yeah, it’s called making
stuff up!

MATT: No! I mean—

JASON: What sort of stuff, Matt?

PAGE 5

Panel 1

Complete change of scene, to an alien landscape. A red sun
is in the sky and wisps of yellowish-green fog (chlorine gas?) drift across a
bone-dry desert. A huge hulking barbarian warrior swings a massive battle axe
and decapitates a smaller opponent. Both fighters are humanoid but obviously
not human: the barbarian has horns like a ram’s horns; his decapitated foe has
an extra pair of knees so that his legs bend oddly. From this POV, we shouldn’t
see a front view of the barbarian’s face.

Panel 2

A close-up on the barbarian’s face. And apart from the horns
and the fanged jaws, we should see that his eyes are a solid yellow.

PAGE 6

Panel 1

Back to Matt in the school grounds.

MATT: Oh…nothing.

Panel 2

From a distance, a figure watches the boys. This view should
be from behind the watcher, so we don’t see his face. We can tell it’s a man,
and he’s wearing a heavy coat (maybe too heavy for the sunny day, considering
how the boys are dressed). There are several groups of students in the scene he
is observing, but it should be plain that it’s Matt’s group that he is
interested in.

Panel 3

Same scene. The man turns away, and we plainly see his
face—a non-descript, ordinary face, apart from the solid red eyes.


#13

Finally, after superheroes and mystical rubbish, some science fiction! I really like this one, and if I had to pick one of the bunch as an ongoing it would be this one. Though I’m not sure how much story I could get out of purely internal conflict (as the premise calls for them to be cut off from the rest of the universe – though I think I had some ideas of how to get round that. Or if I didn’t, I’ve just thought of some).

Anyway, here it is:

DRIFTERS

ISSUE 1

The issue is set on board a space ship. Imagine something
out of Star Trek – interiors have clean lines, everything is shiny and clean
and functional, corridors are bland, etc.

But the people should be in sharp contrast to this. Their
uniforms (nondescript grey jumpsuits) are rumpled, grimy. Some of them have
abandoned the uniform entirely and wear t-shirts. They have long, unkempt hair.
Most of them have stubble. It’s like a bunch of students took over the ship.

PAGE 1

Splash page of the USS DWIGHT D. EISENHOWER drifting through
hyperspace. Hyperspace consists of a white page with multi-coloured “speed
lines” disappearing to a vanishing point.

The Eisenhower is a large saucer. We should get an idea of
the scale by the irregular rows of tiny windows covering the hull: the saucer
is several (a dozen?) decks high and proportionately broad. The hull is a dull
grey colour.

We should clearly see that the ship has taken massive
damage. At one point, near the rim, a massive, gaping, ragged hole punches
clear though the thickness of the saucer. If the saucer fills maybe half of the
panel, the hole would be maybe an inch across. Yes, pretty significant. Apart
from this major damage, the hull is scarred and pitted with surface damage and
scorch marks. It’s been through a major battle. We should clearly see the
ship’s name painted on the upper surface of the hull, but it would be cool if
positioning could be contrived so that the hole obliterates the first letter.
“WIGHT D. EISENHOWER”.

CAPTION: Acting Captain’s log. Day 147. Lieutenant Marshall recording.

CAPTION: We continue to drift through hyperspace.

CAPTION: Surviving ship’s systems continue to function at
nominal efficiency.

CAPTION: Work on the replacement Heisenberg generators that would
allow us to re-enter the real universe has… stalled.

CAPTION: Crew morale is…

CAPTION: Ah, hell.

PAGE 2

Panel 1

Lieutenant Marshall sits alone in a chair in the centre of a
circular bridge. He is alone. The ring of consoles which surround him are all
active (plenty of glowing lights and schematic displays) but every chair but
his is empty.

Marshall is young for his role, possibly still in his early
20s. His jumpsuit shows a name tag on his breast and some kind of rank
insignia. He has short-cropped blonde hair.

MARSHALL: Who am I kidding?

Panel 2

A man sits hunched over a command console in a cramped space
– the cockpit of a small shuttlecraft. He sports a full, bushy beard and a wild
look in his eyes.

CAPTION: This morning, Crewman Higgs locked himself in
number 2 shuttle, claiming he was going to fly it back to Earth.

Panel 3

A young, woman, no older than Marshall, with braided blonde
hair and a regulation uniform, sits with her back against a big, airtight door.
The door has a big number “2” painted on it. The woman has a sidearm in her
hand, her arm resting casually on her raised knees. Her head is raised and
turned, as if she’s listening or talking to somebody on the other side of the
door.

CAPTION: I sent Lieutenant Grayson to talk him down.

Panel 4

A tall, thin man with long hair held back by a flowered
headband stands in a corridor and writes equations on the wall with a marker
pen.

CAPTION: Meanwhile, Science Officer Bream continues to
insist that the computer is plotting against us and refuses to perform his
duties normally.

Panel 5

A brawny red-haired older man, whose jumpsuit is pulled down
around his waist (revealing a string vest and a tattoo saying “MOTHER”), works
with a wrench at attaching an arm to a humanoid robot.

CAPTION: Chief of Engineering Ross pursues his duties with
great diligence and has kept ship’s systems working in the face of great
difficulties.

Panel 6

A man crouches over what must be a missile of some sort
(long, thin, tapered, fins at the base), painting flowers on it. He’s wearing
white shorts and t-shirt (looks like it might be sleep wear).

CAPTION: Which is more than I can say for Ensign Roberts.

PAGE 3

Panel 1

Back to the bridge, with Marshall still in his command
chair. Somewhere, a console is bleeping.

MARSHALL: Sergeant Chen is—

SFX: BEEP BEEP BEEP

Panel 2

Marshall is standing by a console and looking at a flashing
light with a mystified expression.

SFX: BEEP BEEP BEEP

MARSHALL: I have no idea what that means.

MARSHALL: Don’t record that. I mean, end log entry.

Panel 3

Marshall touches a button.

MARSHALL: This is the Acting Captain. Can I have a member of
the bridge crew… on the bridge?

MARSHALL: Please?

SFX: BEEP BEEP BEEP

Panel 4

Lieutenant Grayson (who we saw last page) comes running onto
the bridge. Her sidearm is holstered.

GRAYSON: Captain!
Higgs is launching the shuttle!

MARSHALL: That’s insane!

SFX: BEEP BEEP BEEP

Panel 5

Grayson points to the flashing light.

SFX: BEEP BEEP BEEP

GRAYSON: That’s the number 2 undocking sequence.

MARSHALL: Can you abort it from here?

GRAYSON: Not in time.

PAGE 4

Panel 1

An exterior view of the ship, close in on the rim of the
saucer. A large docking bay door marked “2” is sliding open. Within, we may see
the snub nose and cockpit lights of the shuttle. (The bay isn’t much bigger
than the shuttle. Room to move around it for maintenance, but that’s all.)

CAPTION (MARSHALL): “A soon as he’s away from the mass of
the ship he’ll make an uncontrolled drop out of hyperspace.”

CAPTION (GRAYSON): “I know. He knows too.”

Panel 2

The shuttle is now clear of the docking bay and moving away
from the ship.

CAPTION (GRAYSON): “I think he doesn’t care anymore.”

CAPTION (MARSHALL): Can we do anything?

PAGE 5

Splash page. The shuttle is torn apart in a spectacular
explosion.

No dialogue.

PAGE 6

Panel 1

Back to a reaction shot of the two on the bridge. They both
look sad. Not surprised or horrified, just sad.

MARSHALL: I’ll have to make an announcement to the crew.


#14

I think this is the last one I wrote, and it’s a bit cringe-worthy. I have no idea what I was thinking…

SEMPER PORTENTIS

ISSUE 1

“BOOT CAMP”

PAGE 1

Panel 1

Upper body (only!) shot of a DRILL SERGEANT. He’s in a
modern military uniform, but we shouldn’t be able to tell which military. It looks vaguely like an American uniform but there
is no flag or other insignia to tell us this for sure. The only obvious
insignia is the sergeant’s stripes on his arms. That, plus the way his mouth is
open in a huge drill-sergeant shout, is the only indication that he’s a drill
sergeant. Well, and that he’s just about to announce it.

SARGE (shouting):

Welcome to boot camp, recruits. Or, as you will come to know
it, HELL! I am Sergeant Equus, or, as you will come to know me, THE LORD
ALMIGHTY MASTER OF YOU ALL!

Panel 2

Sarge is moving down a line of hapless recruits as he
continues to shout. As he pauses by each one, we see Sarge and the recruit in
upper-body view. We can probably see part of the recruits to either side in
each panel, to show us that it is a line, but the focus should be on the one
main character we are introducing in each panel. The recruits are all in
non-descript fatigues, again vaguely military but not from an identifiable
army.

In this panel, Sarge is shouting at a very plain-looking young
man with a sullen, angry look in his eyes.

SARGE (shouting):

You must be the SORRIEST bunch of recruits I have ever seen.
What prompted you to sign up for this MAN’S army is beyond me.

Panel 4

Next guy in line is tall with long, straight blonde hair,
piercing blue eyes, and a regal-bearing. The way his hair falls completely
hides his ears (this is actually important!).

SARGE (shouting):

I ask for FIGHTERS and they send me long-haired hippy GIRLS!

Panel 4

The next guy is very overweight, and I don’t mean with
muscle. We can tell from the slope of his shoulders, round pudgy face, and
greasy hair that he’s seriously out of condition. He’s smiling in a vacant sort
of manner.

SARGE (shouting):

You’re SOFT! Pathetic!

Panel 5

This guy has short brown hair and wears round glasses and a
perpetual nervous look.

SARGE (shouting):

And don’t think that your fancy private school education
will count for SQUAT here!

Panel 6

Sarge stops at a gap in the line. Actually, it’s not a gap,
it’s just a very short recruit, so short that he doesn’t appear in the panel.
Sarge looks down at him.

SARGE (shouting):

And what in HADES do we have HERE?

VOICE (coming from below the panel border):

If you don’t ask, I won’t tell!

SARGE (shouting):

WHAT???

PAGE 2

Panel 1

The view now pans down to the “short” recruit. He’s at most
three feet tall. He’s not wearing the regulation fatigues. He’s wearing a green
tunic, leggings, pixie boots, and a cap with a feather in it. His round,
cheerful face grins up at the Sarge (who isn’t visible in the panel).

RECRUIT:

I mean, I’m bound to tell ye, but if ye don’t ask then I’m
not tellin’, Sarge.

Panel 2

Back to a “high” view of the Sarge. This view includes the
nervous guy with glasses, who looks at the Sarge. Note that we’re still only
seeing an upper-body view of the sergeant.

GLASSES GUY:

He’s a leprechaun, Sergeant.

Panel 3

Sarge is right in glasses-boy’s face.

SARGE:

Did I give you permission to SPEAK?

GLASSES-GUY:

Uh, no, Sergeant.

SARGE:

You speak when you’re spoken to, recruit!

GLASSES-GUY:

Uh, yes, Sergeant. I mean, no Sergeant. I mean—

VOICE (off-panel)

Is there a problem, Sergeant?

Panel 4

Sarge turns to face the speaker (we still only see Sarge’s
upper body). The newcomer is tall, handsome, carrying an air of authority. Oh
yes, he’s also wearing a long purple cloak over his uniform and a gold crown on
his head. And a big sword at his side. Yes, he’s like King Arthur or something.
Well, not really. Well, maybe really.

SARGE:

Sir! No, sir! I was inducting the new recruits and—

SIR:

Very well, but I have other matters for you. Dismiss the
recruits to their quarters.

SARGE:

Yes, sir!

Page 3

Panel 1

Full-page panel as we see Sergeant Equus fully for the first
time – and the reason we’ve been hiding him is because he’s a CENTAUR. Yes,
he’s half horse. Nobody seems to find this unusual. He addresses the recruits,
and we again see angry-boy, hippy-boy, overweight-guy, glasses-guy, the
leprechaun, and a few more recruits including one girl, one tall guy with a
single eye in the middle of his forehead (a Cyclops), and one bipedal wolf.
(Plus a few others, but they are unimportant.)

SARGE:

Recruits… FALL OUT!

Page 4

Panel 1

In the barracks. The recruits we have been introduced to so
far are in the process of settling in: dropping kit bags, bouncing on the beds,
unlacing boots, etc.

In the foreground, the nervous looking boy is sitting on his
bead, polishing his glasses, and looking at the leprechaun who is reclining on
the bed next to him.

BOY:

You shouldn’t have antagonised the Sergeant.

LEPRECHAUN:

Heh, he’s a blowhard. An’ I don’t need the likes o’ye
sticking up for me. Who d’ye think ye are anyway?

BOY:

I’m—

Panel 2

The girl we saw in the line-up is standing between their
beds, looking down at the boy.

GIRL:

You’re Horace Parker, aren’t you?

Panel 3

The boy looks absurdly pleased with this cute girl talking
to him and actually knowing him.

PARKER:

Yes… yes I am. You’ve heard of me?

GIRL:

My brother was in the wizard’s Academy with you…

Panel 3

The girl is walking away. In the bed opposite we can see the
overweight guy having a laugh at Parker’s expense.

GIRL:

…He said you were a complete ass.

OVERWEIGHT GUY:

Haaa haaa haaa haaa! Put you in your place, wizard boy!

Panel 4

Parker is on his feet and suddenly there’s a magic wand in
his hand. It’s glowing.

PARKER:

Are you laughing at me?

OVERWEIGHT-GUY:

What do you think?

LEPRECHAUN:

Careful, laddie, he’s a—

PAGE 5

Panel 1

Parker shots a beam of energy from his wand, straight at the
overweight guy. It bounces off (with no apparent affect) and blasts a hole in
the barracks’ ceiling.

SFX:

SHRAMMMMM!

LEPRECHAUN:

–Troll. Oh well, never mind.

Panel 2

The “troll” stands up. there is no sign that he’s just been
hit by a blast big enough to take out the ceiling. He doesn’t seem bothered by
it, either. He’s still smiling.

TROLL:

Ouch, that hurt!

TROLL:

Nah, I’m kidding. Never felt a thing.

Panel 3

The troll claps Parker on the back, in a friendly-enough
manner buy hard enough to almost knock the boy wizard off his feet, and at
least dislodge his glasses.

SFX:

CLAP!

TROLL:

You’ve got spunk, wizard boy. I think you and me are gonna
be pals!

PARKER:

Eep! Uh… great!

PAGE 6

Panel 1

The girl sits on her bed. On the next bed is the blonde
hippy guy who is watching her intently.

HIPPY GUY:

You set that up deliberately.

GIRL:

What if I did, Elf?

Panel 2

The boy pushes his hair behind one pointed ear.

ELF:

I can see the magic in you but I can’t tell what you are…

GIRL:

Good.

ELF:

…a mortal, but not a human…

Panel 3

The leprechaun suddenly materialises between them.

SFX: POOF!

LEPRECHAUN:

She’s a—

Panel 4

The girl’s hand claps over the leprechaun’s mouth.

GIRL:

He doesn’t need to know!

LEPRECHAUN:

Mmph mmph mmph! Mmph!