Post by rachelevil on Aug 20, 2006 14:37:58 GMT -5
Okay. So, I decided that I needed to write something new, in the midst of adapting a couple old short stories of mine (which I've kinda let fall by the wayside due to personal problems I've been having lately. I promise to get back to them.), and that I wanted to get the sort of insane, manic, bizarre, nigh-incomprehensible feel that my favorite things I've written have. In order to do this, I drank a whole bunch of coffee and listened to Polysics or Die! (a superb cd) on repeat for a while. What I've come up with so far, is this. I plan on this being the first of several short bursts of what will form something almost resembing a coherent short story. I'm certainly enjoying writing it, that's for sure.
For the art, I imagine it should have a somewhat cartoony look. Perhaps somewhat similar to the style of Berkely Breathed. At least, that's how it looks in my head.
Anyway, here's the first part of the script.
... And That’s Why I Was Absent on Tuesday.
a completely credible tale by RachelEvil
This is pretty much every really dumb idea I’ve had for a story thrown together. Because, as anyone who’s ever seen Dude, Where’s My Car? knows, if you put enough bad ideas together, they add up to a good idea. Or something.
PAGE ONE
In the first panel, we meet Hannah. She sits on a rocky cliff in a wooded area, with a notebook in her lap and a pen in her hand. She’s about 19 or 20 years old, and is wearing a hooded sweatshirt and cargo pants. Her hair is dirty blonde and is done up in dreadlocks. The cliff is some fifteen feet above a tiny creek. This is set somewhere in Ohio. Probably near Dayton, probably right near Wright State University. But this isn’t exactly a story set in reality, so exact accuracy is hardly needed. It should be around early fall. The leaves haven’t turned yet, but they’ve made up their minds to do so any time now. This panel should probably take up most of the page, if for no other reason than the rather lengthy caption (or captions, depending on what looks better laid out). The next two panels can just be very small indeed.
CAPTION: (This should be in boxes that look kinda like notebook paper if at all possible, and in a scripty-looking font)
Love Poem My Writing 102 Teacher is Forcing Me To Write
by Hannah Sanders
My love for you
Is like a waffle iron
As it burns hot
But may produce
Gooey golden-brown goodness...
In panel two, Hannah is visibly frustrated with the utter crap she’s writing.
HANNAH: Damn it!
In panel three, we see Hannah suddenly turning around, surprised.
VOICE FROM OFF-PANEL: Hello.
PAGE TWO.
In my mind, this should be two itty bitty panels on top of a big-ol’ full-page panel. The first is a little one at the top of the page. In it we see an orange tom cat. He looks like a regular housecat. In fact, he’s wearing a flea collar. Let’s call him Slays.
HANNAH (off-panel): What the shit?
In the second (big) panel, we see Hannah and Slays facing each other. It would probably look really cool if this were in silhouette, at the very bottom of the panel, with the dialogue filling the air above them.
SLAYS: I said hello.
HANNAH: Yeah, I was just wondering if that actually happened, or if that was just the sound of my brain going bye-bye.
SLAYS: Can’t it be both? My name is Slays Many Small Rodents In The Gentle Evening Breeze, by the way.
HANNAH: I’m Hannah.
SLAYS: I know, I read that on your paper.
HANNAH: You were reading my paper?
SLAYS: Yes.... “Waffle iron”?
HANNAH: I was hungry at the time.
SLAYS: It’s awful.
HANNAH: I know. And it’s due in half an hour.
SLAYS: Sounds like you’re hosed.
HANNAH: Yeah. Maybe I can get an extension or something... Uhm... Cats say “hosed”?
SLAYS: Why not?
HANNAH: So, what are you up to out here?
SLAYS: Oh, you know... stuff. Cat stuff.
HANNAH: Fair enou...
SFX: BOOM!
In the third panel (the second tiny one, this one at the bottom of the page, naturally), we see Hannah and Slays looking over the cliff, while some smoke wafts up from below.
PAGE THREE
This one should have more panels than the previous two. I have no specific layout in mind, so the artist is invited to do whatever the heck they feel like. In fact, screw panels and page numbers. I’m just gonna wing it from here on out.
Hannah climbs down the cliff, to find out what’s going on, and carries Slays with her (a situation he seems quite content with). At the bottom of the cliff, we find, in a little circle of scorched ground, a robot. A girl robot. A very human-looking girl robot (except that her “skin” is blueish plastic (think “Realdoll”, if you can think that word without then having to bleach your brain) and she’s got blinking lights in her head). She’s wearing a metallic tube-top and matching miniskirt. Her creator has obviously not had even a little sex, ever.
HANNAH: Uhm... Hi.
ROBOT: Hello. I am Unit Delia Seven.
HANNAH: Of course you are.
ROBOT: You can call me Delia.
HANNAH: I’m Hannah, and this is Slays Many Small Rodents In The Gentle Evening Breeze.
DELIA: I am pleased to meet you.
SLAYS: Charmed, I’m sure.
HANNAH: So...Delia... Where are you from?
Delia points to a big hole in the side of the cliff.
HANNAH: Oh. Right. Uhm... So, what are you doing out here?
DELIA: I ran away from my creator. I believe he was going to deactivate me. He was already almost finished with creating Unit Delia Eight, and has used Units Delia One through Six as spare parts.
HANNAH: I see.
DELIA: I have a question.
HANNAH: Yes?
DELIA: What is “love”?
HANNAH: I beg your pardon?
SLAYS: It’s sort of like a waffle iron...
DELIA: Query: What is “waffle iron”?
HANNAH: Don’t mind him.
DELIA: I have heard of this “love”. I do not understand this “love”. Can you teach me “love”?
SLAYS: Hee hee!
HANNAH: (to Slays): You shut up. (to Delia) Well, uhm, it’s... er.. Can a robot even...
DELIA: I am fully functional.
HANNAH: Oh, good lord!
VOICE FROM OFF-PANEL: What are you people doing here? Don’t you know it’s dangerous out here?
HANNAH: Oh, what now?
As you can tell, I'm playing it fast and loose with... pretty much everything. I'll try to get more done this week (but you've heard that one from me before...). I'm pretty excited about writing this. Trust me, it only gets crazier from here.
For the art, I imagine it should have a somewhat cartoony look. Perhaps somewhat similar to the style of Berkely Breathed. At least, that's how it looks in my head.
Anyway, here's the first part of the script.
... And That’s Why I Was Absent on Tuesday.
a completely credible tale by RachelEvil
This is pretty much every really dumb idea I’ve had for a story thrown together. Because, as anyone who’s ever seen Dude, Where’s My Car? knows, if you put enough bad ideas together, they add up to a good idea. Or something.
PAGE ONE
In the first panel, we meet Hannah. She sits on a rocky cliff in a wooded area, with a notebook in her lap and a pen in her hand. She’s about 19 or 20 years old, and is wearing a hooded sweatshirt and cargo pants. Her hair is dirty blonde and is done up in dreadlocks. The cliff is some fifteen feet above a tiny creek. This is set somewhere in Ohio. Probably near Dayton, probably right near Wright State University. But this isn’t exactly a story set in reality, so exact accuracy is hardly needed. It should be around early fall. The leaves haven’t turned yet, but they’ve made up their minds to do so any time now. This panel should probably take up most of the page, if for no other reason than the rather lengthy caption (or captions, depending on what looks better laid out). The next two panels can just be very small indeed.
CAPTION: (This should be in boxes that look kinda like notebook paper if at all possible, and in a scripty-looking font)
Love Poem My Writing 102 Teacher is Forcing Me To Write
by Hannah Sanders
My love for you
Is like a waffle iron
As it burns hot
But may produce
Gooey golden-brown goodness...
In panel two, Hannah is visibly frustrated with the utter crap she’s writing.
HANNAH: Damn it!
In panel three, we see Hannah suddenly turning around, surprised.
VOICE FROM OFF-PANEL: Hello.
PAGE TWO.
In my mind, this should be two itty bitty panels on top of a big-ol’ full-page panel. The first is a little one at the top of the page. In it we see an orange tom cat. He looks like a regular housecat. In fact, he’s wearing a flea collar. Let’s call him Slays.
HANNAH (off-panel): What the shit?
In the second (big) panel, we see Hannah and Slays facing each other. It would probably look really cool if this were in silhouette, at the very bottom of the panel, with the dialogue filling the air above them.
SLAYS: I said hello.
HANNAH: Yeah, I was just wondering if that actually happened, or if that was just the sound of my brain going bye-bye.
SLAYS: Can’t it be both? My name is Slays Many Small Rodents In The Gentle Evening Breeze, by the way.
HANNAH: I’m Hannah.
SLAYS: I know, I read that on your paper.
HANNAH: You were reading my paper?
SLAYS: Yes.... “Waffle iron”?
HANNAH: I was hungry at the time.
SLAYS: It’s awful.
HANNAH: I know. And it’s due in half an hour.
SLAYS: Sounds like you’re hosed.
HANNAH: Yeah. Maybe I can get an extension or something... Uhm... Cats say “hosed”?
SLAYS: Why not?
HANNAH: So, what are you up to out here?
SLAYS: Oh, you know... stuff. Cat stuff.
HANNAH: Fair enou...
SFX: BOOM!
In the third panel (the second tiny one, this one at the bottom of the page, naturally), we see Hannah and Slays looking over the cliff, while some smoke wafts up from below.
PAGE THREE
This one should have more panels than the previous two. I have no specific layout in mind, so the artist is invited to do whatever the heck they feel like. In fact, screw panels and page numbers. I’m just gonna wing it from here on out.
Hannah climbs down the cliff, to find out what’s going on, and carries Slays with her (a situation he seems quite content with). At the bottom of the cliff, we find, in a little circle of scorched ground, a robot. A girl robot. A very human-looking girl robot (except that her “skin” is blueish plastic (think “Realdoll”, if you can think that word without then having to bleach your brain) and she’s got blinking lights in her head). She’s wearing a metallic tube-top and matching miniskirt. Her creator has obviously not had even a little sex, ever.
HANNAH: Uhm... Hi.
ROBOT: Hello. I am Unit Delia Seven.
HANNAH: Of course you are.
ROBOT: You can call me Delia.
HANNAH: I’m Hannah, and this is Slays Many Small Rodents In The Gentle Evening Breeze.
DELIA: I am pleased to meet you.
SLAYS: Charmed, I’m sure.
HANNAH: So...Delia... Where are you from?
Delia points to a big hole in the side of the cliff.
HANNAH: Oh. Right. Uhm... So, what are you doing out here?
DELIA: I ran away from my creator. I believe he was going to deactivate me. He was already almost finished with creating Unit Delia Eight, and has used Units Delia One through Six as spare parts.
HANNAH: I see.
DELIA: I have a question.
HANNAH: Yes?
DELIA: What is “love”?
HANNAH: I beg your pardon?
SLAYS: It’s sort of like a waffle iron...
DELIA: Query: What is “waffle iron”?
HANNAH: Don’t mind him.
DELIA: I have heard of this “love”. I do not understand this “love”. Can you teach me “love”?
SLAYS: Hee hee!
HANNAH: (to Slays): You shut up. (to Delia) Well, uhm, it’s... er.. Can a robot even...
DELIA: I am fully functional.
HANNAH: Oh, good lord!
VOICE FROM OFF-PANEL: What are you people doing here? Don’t you know it’s dangerous out here?
HANNAH: Oh, what now?
As you can tell, I'm playing it fast and loose with... pretty much everything. I'll try to get more done this week (but you've heard that one from me before...). I'm pretty excited about writing this. Trust me, it only gets crazier from here.