Forty-Eight

Forty EightForty Eight

1. Wide. A four piece punk/hardcore band plays on a shoddy stage somewhere in the dark depths of a dive bar - the kind of place that doesn’t turn the lights on in fear of revealing exactly how bad it looks. In the middle of the panel stands the singer, SHERROD. He’s in his mid 20s with wild hair and a Roman nose that has been broken at least once. He wears skinny jeans, a pair of pale blue Chuck Taylors, and a faded Bad Brains t-shirt. The rest of the band whirl about the stage with restless energy whilst Sherrod stands solemnly singing into the microphone. Below them the small crowd weave around and crash into each other. Those near the stage clamour to try and touch Sherrod, their hands thrust upward like starving children.

SHERROD (NARRATION): Through the crowd, I know you're there. 

SHERROD (NARRATION):  Cutting your way through the dervish...

2. Tight on Sherrod, somehow looking bored amongst all this chaos. He looks off into the distance, looking past the crowd.

SHERROD (NARRATION): ...like a hot knife through butter. 

3. From Sherrod’s POV we see a woman standing at the back of the room. This is FRANCES. She’s in her early 20s, a bob haircut and dark makeup. Theda Bara in ripped jeans and a Fugazi t-shirt. She holds a single hand up in a creepy wave towards Sherrod.

SHERROD (NARRATION): You wave like you haven't been missing for a year. 

4. Back on Sherrod, similar to panel 2, but his head is tilted quizzically.

SHERROD (NARRATION): Like this is what normal people do. 

5. Nothing but black.

SHERROD (NARRATION): Then it hits me...

6. Wide. Similar staging to the first panel, but now Sherrod is dressed in a strange looking armour (as per the picture) and cloak. He’s slumped backwards in a steampunk-looking boat as he cruises through a throng of the clamouring undead, firing a PISTOL at the figures beneath him. The only piece of normalcy in this grim tableau is Sherrod’s pale blue Chuck Taylors peeking out from beneath his cloak.

CAPTION: 2 hours later.

SHERROD (NARRATION): ...the worst is still to come.
February 26, 2017 · 1page1shots


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