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View Full Version : The character I created for the Hope book is a real bastard...



Angel of Distraction
09-08-2005, 02:19 AM
I outdid myself. Putting people's eyes out with cigarettes and extorting poor people; it's hard to beleive he's humanity's best defense against the more unsavory types of the spirit world!

Tell me what you guys think of the script so far...Ronin is getting someone to draw...and everybody get this, it's a great cause!


A NEW ORLEANS GHOST STORY

PAGE 1

Panel 1
A man sits at a bar stool in a seedy tavern, thirties style. He is slightly unkempt, wearing what appears to be an unwashed trenchcoat and looking like it has been some time since his last haircut. There are whiskey stains on his wrinkled, gaudy tie, and he is drinking a shot of whiskey. Close up on him.

Panel 2
The shot pulls back. The man is drinking amidst a storm of chaos. Glasses are flying everywhere. The mirror behind the bar is cracked. The bartender is trying to catch flying bottles.

Panel 3
The bartender, a fat, red-faced man, growls into the face of the drinker, who doesn’t flinch.
“I hired you to stop this, not sit there!”
Man: “Let me finish my beer.”

Panel 4
The man chugs the last of his beer.

Panel 5
Standing up and cinching up his worn out belt, he calls out. Bottles are floating in the air on front of him.
“All right, let’s see what we’re dealing with here!”

Panel 6
A ghost appears from out of nowhere, holding the bottles.
Ghost: “Well, this is inconvenient.”

PAGE 2

Panel 1
Ghost: “Well, this is just the best. You’re the odd one I’ve heard about.”

Panel 2
Close-up of the two, face to face.
Man: “Odd? Likely.”
Ghost: “Well, you don’t scare me. NOTHING can hurt me, jerk, I’m a gho…”

Panel 3
The man headbutts the ghost. See-through ectoplasmic blood flies from his nose.
Man: “Nothing except me.”
The ghost is lying at his feet.
Man: “I’ll take my pay now.”
Bartender, very angry: “I ain’t payin’ you! Look what he did to my bar, while you sat there and drank!”

Panel 4
Close-up.
The man lights up a cigarette.
“Well, I suppose I could ask several of my somewhat undead friends to take his place. They might be a bit more…creative.”
Bartender: “What is this, some kind of …of…of…ghostblaster protection racket???”

Panel 5
Man: “Just a guy trying to make a living, pal.”

PAGE 3
Full-page. The man walks down an alleyway after exiting the bar, the bartender still bitching at him from the back door. Drunks in the alley belch out booze and the trash is piled high by dumpsters that can’t hold it. One of the homeless people is holding his head. The man is rolling a wad of bills in his hand.
Narration, main character:
“The streets of “The Big Easy” are wet from the rain last night. Sometimes, like today, the rain in a coastal city is straight from the ocean, and the flavor is so salty I’d swear I could feel it as much as taste it. I can imagine it crunching underneath my feet, but that might just be a busted bottle of cheap beer. Alleyway Randy insists he’s possessed. Again. Maybe pretending to be homeless to welch off rich tourists causes it. I give him a crack upside the head with my lighter and make him hand over five bucks he ripped off from some poor bitch with a heart too soft, to pay for all the times I’ve “exorcised” him just to keep him from breaking into retirement homes and fucking the dialysis machines.”

Another day like any other in the REAL “City that never fucking sleeps.”

Somebody better get a language filter on this... :D

Thomas Mauer
09-08-2005, 02:50 AM
Ya, well, you still have to work on the local color. ;)

TonyFleecs
09-08-2005, 03:02 AM
pay for all the times I’ve “exorcised” him just to keep him from breaking into retirement homes and fucking the dialysis machines
That's a well crafted line, sir.

mario
09-08-2005, 03:06 AM
Are you trying to out-Ellis Warren Ellis?