Showing posts with label script. Show all posts
Showing posts with label script. Show all posts

Monday, July 19, 2010

I Soku. Do You?

During the late 1980s or early-1990s, I wrote a couple of scripts for South American artist Pablo Marcos (famous for his work on Marvel's Conan and just about everything for DC Comics), who packaged Suko, The Eternal Samurai, a Conan rip-off he had created for a Mexican comic book publisher. The script speaks for itself.

(c) respective copyright holders

PAGE ONE
1  (We open with a CLOSE-UP of the window of a bombed out old building, looking out the window at some of the other bombed out old buildings that make up this city, which looks like something out of your basic post-Apocalyptic world.  It’s morning, the sun just coming up.)

2  (SAME AS ABOVE, except now a spider is descending into the scene on a single line of webbing.)

Cap:         The spider spins.

3  (The spider is descending towards the sill, sunlight glinting off the single strand of webbing.)

Cap:         It does not question.  It does not wonder.

4  (The spider has reached the sill and is starting to spin its web in the corner of the window opening.) 

Cap:         That is simply what it does.
Cap 2:         That is its nature.

PAGE TWO
1  (CUT TO: a LONG ESTABLISHING SHOT of a flat, empty field at the edge of a densely grown dark forest of tall, old gnarled trees, a thoroughly threatening looking place.  It’s dawn, the field covered with a thick morning mist.  In the distance, walking towards the reader across the field is SUKO, packing whatever travel gear he carries in his backpack, his sword slung at his side.  He’s partially obscured by the mist, looking like a ghostly figure.)

Cap:         Morning.

2  (SAME ANGLE AS ABOVE, except SUKO has drawn closer to the reader, still shrouded in the mist.)

3  (SAME AS ABOVE, except now SUKO is in the foreground, in MEDIUM-SHOT, and is visible through the mist.  He’s turning in surprise in reaction to an off panel scream, coming from deep within the forest.)

SFX:         AAAIIIIEEEEEEEE!

4  (As the screams continue to come from the forest, SUKO is drawing his sword as he charges towards the trees.)

SFX:         EEEEEEEEEEIIIAAA!

PAGE THREE
1  (SUKO is in the forest now, dashing through the thick foliage that grows on the forest floor...)

2  (... And then stops short, in the SPLASH-PANEL, as his way is suddenly blocked by a horrific sight: a wall of bodies -- both human and animal -- in various states of decomposition, from fresh kills to skeletons.  They’re strung between the trees, hanging from a diaphanous curtain of some fine, silken material, like a gigantic spiderweb, which in fact it is.)

Suko (burst):         GODS!
Title:         THE CULT OF THE SPIDER

3 (CLOSE-UP OF ONE of the faces of the bodies hanging from the web, twisted in a grimace of horror at the moment of death.)

PAGE FOUR
1  (CLOSE-UP of SUKO, his face a cold mask .)

Suko (whisper):         Gods.

2  (But there’s no time for SUKO to figure out what this horror may be all about as the air is torn by yet another scream from off-panel, this one coming beyond the curtain of corpses.)

SFX:         NOOOOOOoooooo

3  (SUKO is slashing through the grotesque tapestry in front of him, charging deeper into the dark, forbiding forest.)

4  (ANGLING FROM BEHIND SUKO as he races towards a clearing ahead of him in the forest, visible through some of the trees.  There’re some shadowy figures visible through the trees, but not clear enough that we can make out who or what they are.)

From clearing (burst):         NO-- S- STOP...

PAGE FIVE
1  (SUKO bursts into the clearing, sword in hand, ready to confront whatever he may find there.  And what he’s found is a small open area with yet more of the webs strung between the trees, holding the bodies of more human and animal victims.  In the center of the clearing are five men and a woman.  The men are WARRIOR members of a Spider Cult, wearing some sort of samurai-like outfit with a spider motif, each wielding a sword of their own.  The woman is young and beautiful, named TOMIKO, and she’s being seriously menaced by these men, who are forcing the struggling young girl up onto the webbing to join the grotesque menagerie already there.)

Tomiko (burst):         ... PLEASE... sob!... DON’T DO THIS!  I’ll do ANYTHING you ask...!
Warrior A:         SHUT UP, woman! 
Warrior B:         You’ve been CHOSEN... ACCEPT your fate.  There’s NOTHING for you now-- except DEATH!
Suko:         If anyone’s going to die here--

2  (Four of the WARRIORS are turning to face SUKO in surprise, drawing their weapons as he walks towards them, pointing at TOMIKO, who’s being held by the fifth WARRIOR.)

Suko:         -- It’s NOT going to be the girl!
Warrior B:         WHO--? 
Warrior C:         What’d you want, stranger?  This is none of your concern.
Warrior A:         Yeah, get lost before you get HURT!

3  (CLOSE-UP of SUKO, a cold, bloodthirsty smile on his face.)

PAGE SIX
1  (Before the WARRIORS can even realize what’s happening, SUKO has attacked, charging into them with his sword flashing, cutting down the first WARRIOR in that split second.)

SFX:         SWIISSSSH!

2  (The others have recovered their wits and are on the defensive against SUKO’S attack as he stands crouched, at the ready, over the body of the downed WARRIOR.  They’re all facing him, swords up.  The fifth WARRIOR is in the background, holding TOMIKO.)

3  (The first of the WARRIORS is charging at SUKO with his sword swinging.)

PAGE SEVEN
1  (SUKO has sidestepped the attack and deflected the WARRIOR’S blade with his own.)

SFX:         KLANGGG!

2  (SUKO is whirling, slashing the WARRIOR across the back.  The other two WARRIORS are charging in to join the fray.)

SFX:         SLISSSSH!

3  (The wounded WARRIOR is starting to turn to strike at SUKO...)

4  (... But SUKO’S faster, driving his sword into the man’s belly to the hilt...)

SFX:         SHOKK!

PAGE EIGHT
1  (... Then whips it out and whirls, trailing blood from the blade in an arc through the air, to face the other two men.  This happens so fast the body of the last kill hasn’t even had time to hit the ground yet.)

2  (SUKO has leapt straight up in the air, over the blades of the two warriors as they move in for what they think is the kill.)

3  (At the height of his leap, SUKO is kicking out his foot, into the face of one of the WARRIORS.)

SFX:         KRAKK!

PAGE NINE
1  (Even as he lands, SUKO is driving his blade at the fourth WARRIOR, who’s countering the stroke with his sword.)

SFX:         CLANG!

2  (SUKO ducks under the fourth WARRIOR’S next slash...)

3  (... And drives his sword up, into the WARRIOR’S chest...)

SFX:         SHIKK!

4  (... Then whirls, to drive the hilt of his sword into the face of the WARRIOR he kicked, delivering the killing blow.)

SFX:         KHRAMM!

5  (SUKO is turning, to look across the clearing towards the last WARRIOR, the one holding TOMIKO.  The bodies of the four fallen men are scattered at his feet.  SUKO has his sword clutched in both hands.)

Suko:         YOUR turn, friend.

PAGE TEN
1  (The WARRIOR is shoving TOMIKO roughly aside as he smiles, preparing to meet SUKO in combat.)

Warrior:         My PLEASURE, swordsman.  Come and GET me!
Tomiko:         Ooooh!

2  (SUKO and the WARRIOR are rushing across the clearing towards one another as TOMIKO cowers on the ground in the background, watching.)

Warrior:         YIIIIIiiiiii

3  (The two men are meeting in the middle of the clearing, swords coming together.)

SFX:         KTANGG!

PAGE ELEVEN
1  (Some fancy swordplay between the WARRIOR and SUKO...)

2  (... The WARRIOR deftly turning his body to avoid SUKO’S sword thrust...)

3  (... Then slashing at SUKO with a backhand thrust, which SUKO blocks with his forearm against the WARRIOR’S forearm...)

4  (... Then pushing WARRIOR backwards, sending him stumbling back, off balance...)

PAGE TWELVE
1  (... And follows through with a roundhouse kick that sends WARRIOR flying backwards, towards the webbing slung between the trees, SUKO coming towards him, for the kill--)

SFX:         KHOK!

2  (-- Which he delivers by grabbing hold of the dazed, downed WARRIOR’S throat...)

Warrior:         GHAKKK!

3  (... And throwing him with a neck-snapping toss into the webbing, where he sticks, alongside the rest of the kill already hanging there.  He’s sailed right over the prone TOMIKO, who’s watching in horror.)

SFX:         SN-NNAP!

PAGE THIRTEEN
1  (SUKO is sheathing his sword as he surveys his handiwork.  TOMIKO is getting to her feet, looking gratefully towards SUKO.)

Tomiko:         Yo- you... SAVED me...!
Suko:         You were in trouble.  I was here. 
Suko 2:         That’s all.

2  (SUKO is kneeling beside one of the slain WARRIORS, examining his get-up as TOMIKO comes up behind him, looking uncertain, not knowing what to do.)

Tomiko:         But you could have been KILLED!
Suko:         Not by THIS bunch.  Who were they?  What did they want?
Tomiko 2:         They’re members of the SPIDER CULT--

3  (CLOSE-UP OF TOMIKO, hugging herself, shivering with fear at what almost happened to her.)

Tomiko:         -- The MASTERS of the city where I live.  Every month... they come... to take one of us to SACRIFICE to their dark gods.
Tomiko 2:         This month they... they chose me...

PAGE FOURTEEN
1  (TOMIKO is looking towards the web-curtain and its grisly assortment of bodies, her eyes wide with fear.  SUKO is rising to look at the girl.)

Tomiko:         ... To join... THAT!
Suko:         Your people just LET them take you?
Tomiko 2:         You talk as if they had a CHOICE! 

2  (SUKO is turning to leave, to be back on his way.  TOMIKO is startled, calling out to him.)

Suko:         I guess that’s just something they’ll have to deal with when you return home.  Good-bye.
Tomiko:         WAIT!  Where are you going...?

3  (SUKO is walking towards the reader, the startled, upset TOMIKO visible behind him, over his shoulder, calling out to him.  There’s nothing on SUKO’S face to betray what he’s thinking or feeling.)

Suko:         Wherever.
Tomiko:         Bu- but you can’t just LEAVE!
Tomiko 2:         PLEASE!  Yo- you’re the FIRST one who’s ever been able to stand UP to them...!

4  (SAME AS ABOVE, except SUKO is closer to the reader in the foreground and the mucho agitated TOMIKO is farther behind him in the background.)

Tomiko:         Did you HEAR me?!  We NEED you...
Tomiko 2:         ... I need you...

PAGE FIFTEEN
1  (SAME AS ABOVE, except now the distant TOMIKO has collapsed to her knees, burying her hands in her face and sobbing.  SUKO is stopping dead in his tracks, starting to turn to look back at her.)

Tomiko:         ... They’ll... sob!... send OTHERS... to bring me back...

2  (TIGHT ON TOMIKO, still on her knees, sobbing into her hands.)

3  (TOMIKO is looking up with a tearstained face as SUKO’S shadow -- with SUKO standing just off-panel -- falls across her.)

4  (SUKO is holding out his hand, helping the disbelieving TOMIKO to her feet.  He doesn’t look at all pleased with himself for giving in to her emotional plea.)

Suko:         Sigh!
Suko 2:         Let’s GO, girl.  I haven’t got FOREVER, you know...

5  (CUT TO: a CLOSE-UP of the spider in the window we saw on PAGE ONE.  The web it’s spinning in the corner of the window is further along than when we last saw it.)

Cap:         The spider spins.
Cap 2:         The intricate weaving of patterns UNIQUE to itself.

PAGE SIXTEEN
1  (The spider is spinning along as we move in closer to it, starting to angle the shot so that we can see out the window, down onto the street.  A common housefly is buzzing into the scene from outside.)

Cap:         There is a purpose to its workings.

2  (CLOSER IN STILL, so that we’re looking down past the web that’s being spun, into the street below.  The area is a slum, that rings the gleaming, towering futuristic city in the center of this city.  This is an old area, of stone and brick buildings, built long before the stainless steel and glass towers at the center.  Along the perimeter of the slum are evenly spaced guard towers, topped by spider-shaped structures at the top, manned by (we’ll later see) more WARRIORS from the cult army.  Think South Bronx.  Walking down the middle of the street are SUKO and TOMIKO.)

Cap:         There is a purpose to EVERYTHING.
Suko:         This is where you live, eh?  A pretty MISERABLE place, isn’t it?
Tomiko:         It wasn’t ALWAYS like this.

3  (Move on down into the street, to tag along with SUKO and TOMIKO as they walk along through the South Bronx-like city streets.  SUKO is looking around in disgust.)

Suko:         Nothing was.  Once.
Tomiko:         We were promised this would be torn down and replaced by LIVEABLE buildings.
Tomiko 2:         But that was BEFORE...!

PAGE SEVENTEEN
1  (MOVE IN for a TIGHT-SHOT of the two, TOMIKO looking very sad.)

Suko:         Before the Spider Cult?
Tomiko:         They KILLED our old leaders and made us all their slaves... the slums are BREEDING FARMS for workers and sacrifice victims.

2  (SUKO is looking up at the nearest guard-tower, the spider looming over the slums.)

Tomiko (off):         They’ve made THEIR spider-demons OUR gods and we must worship THEM or die...
Tomiko (off) 2:         ... Sooner than later...

3  (SUKO is pointing to a half-collapsed old building, turning to enter it.)

Suko:         Why don’t you FIGHT?  You’ve got the superior numbers.
Tomiko:         We’re factory-workers, not warriors.  Besides, what do we use for WEAPONS?
Tomiko 2:         Here.  This’s where we live.

PAGE EIGHTEEN
1  (Inside the building it’s as bad as it looked from outside, basically a big open space interrupted by what remains of a few interior walls.  The ceiling is half collapsed.  A large, extended family lives here: grandfather, his son and wife and their young children, the widow of another son and her DAUGHTER, TOMIKO’S MOTHER and her younger brother, TAKEO.  Also there, among the family, is the sour old maiden AUNT.  They all live in this space, which is furnished with little more than the basic necessities, like sleeping mats, habatchi-type cooking area, crates for their few possessions.  SUKO and TOMIKA are entering the scene.)

2  (INSERT PANEL: SUKO’S MOTHER is looking up from whatever domestic-type thing she’s doing and seeing her daughter come in.  She’s wide-eyed, astonished to see the girl alive.)

Mother:         Gasp!

PAGE NINETEEN
1  (Having dropped whatever she’s holding, MOTHER is racing across the room into TOMIKO’S arms, the two of them sobbing.  SUKO is looking on.)

Mother:         TOMIKO-- my CHILD... sob!... yo- you’re alive!  Sob!  ALIVE!
Tomiko:         It... it’s all right, mother!

2  (TOMIKO is introducing SUKO to her tearful mother, who’s grabbed the WARRIOR’S hand in gratitude.  He looks uncomfortable at the display of emotion.)

Tomiko:         THIS man SAVED me...
Mother:         I... I didn’t think ANYONE could stand up to them... oh, THANK you, warrior...  thank you for my daughter’s LIFE!

3  (MOTHER is pulling SUKO towards the cooking area, furthering his discomfort.  TOMIKO is slightly amused by his embarassment.)

Suko:         I...
Mother:         COME!  Please be SEATED... you must be FAMISHED.  We would be HONORED to share our food with you.

PAGE TWENTY
1  (SUKO is seated on the floor before a low plywood table as MOTHER fuses with the food on the fire to serve him.  TOMIKO is greeting her brother TAKEO and AUNT.  TAKEO’S happy to see him, AUNT is a sourball who saw TOMIKO’S death as meaning more food for everybody else.)

Takeo:         Tomiko... it’s a MIRACLE!  NOBODY’S ever come back from the SACRIFICES!
Tomiko:         Things are going to be DIFFERENT, TAKEO--

2  (TOMIKO is looking towards SUKO with something close to worship in her eyes.  SUKO is reacting to what she’s saying, as close to startled as he ever gets.)

Tomiko:         -- Now that SUKO is here!
Suko:         EH--?!

3  (SUKO has scrambled to his feet, looking grim, speaking harshly to the startled TOMIKO and TAKEO.)

Suko:         I KNOW what you’re getting at, girl... but FORGET it.
Tomiko:         Bu- but... you CAN’T see how we’re made to live and not HELP us!

4  (SUKO is making big strides towards the door, getting his tail out of there.  TOMIKO is racing after him, calling to him.)

Suko:         No?
Tomiko (burst):         SUKO!  WAIT...!

PAGE TWENTY-ONE
1  (TOMIKO is racing after SUKO, who’s well ahead of her, reaching for the door...)

2  (... And yanking open the door as we look towards it from the street outside.  SUKO is stopping cold dead in his tracks.)

3  (And we pull back for a wide shot of the street, showing SPIDER WARRIORS loading men, women, and children into transport-trucks -- whether on wheels or air-jets or whatever mode of transportation is used in this era -- at weapon point.  The people are intimidated into submission as they march with bowed backs to the trucks under the threat of the WARRIOR soldiers.  Their weapons are futuristic rifles.  SUKO is still in the doorway in the foreground, seeing his from his P.O.V.)

PAGE TWENTY-TWO
1  (With a snarl of rage, SUKO is starting to draw his sword to make a move towards the WARRIORS, but a hand is reaching out from the doorway to grab for his arm and stop him.)

2  (SUKO is whirling to face whoever has grabbed him.  It’s GRANDFATHER, a little, wrinkled, washed out old man, tired beyond even his years.)

Grandpa:         No.
Grandpa 2:         Others have tried to STOP them from taking us... the warriors always KILL the prisoners FIRST.

3  (GRANDFATHER has turned to walk back into the dwelling.  SUKO is closing the door, watching the old man.)

Grandpa:         There is ANOTHER way.
Grandpa 2:         Come.

PAGE TWENTY-THREE
1  (CUT TO: the spider in the window, weaving its web, which is growing in size and complexity.)

Cap:         The spider spins.
Cap 2:         Fragile, silken threads grow from the center, spreading outward into beauty...

2  (CUT TO NIGHT: night, in TOMIKO’S home, where we find everybody asleep.  SUKO is alone on a sleeping mat, off in a corner away from everybody else.   His sheathed sword is at hand.)

3  (A TIGHT CLOSE-UP of a booted foot, making its way across the floor, kicking a small pebble of plaster into something else, making a small noise.)

SFX:         klakt

4  (CLOSE-UP OF SUKO, his eyes snapping open as his hand moves to his sword.)

PAGE TWENTYFOUR
1  (SUKO is rising on his side to look towards the door, where he sees a dark, shadowed figure moving cautiously towards the door.)

2  (SUKO is starting to rise but freezes at the sound of an off-panel whisper, coming from the other direction.)

Whisper (off):         Suko...?

3  (TOMIKO, wrapped in a kimono, is walking towards his sleeping mat.  He’s watching her.)

Tomiko (whisper):         I... I’m sorry.  Did I wake you?

4  (TOMIKO is kneeling beside SUKO’S mat, holding her robe closed.)

Suko (whisp):         I hear something...
Tomiko (whisp):         That’s my brother.  He FORAGES for food at night.

PAGE TWENTY-FIVE
1  (SUKO is settling back onto his mat, watching the girl kneeling beside him.)

Suko (whisp):         And for what do YOU forage in the darkness...?
Tomiko (whisp):         It... it occured to me... that I haven’t properly THANKED you.

2  (CLOSE-UP of SUKO, impassive.)

Suko:         No thanks are OWED.

3  (TIGHT ON TOMIKO, starting to pull off her robe.  The darkness and shadow blocks the views of all her naughty parts, but there’s no doubt she’s naked beneath the robe.)

Tomiko:         Yes.
Tomiko 2:         They ARE...

PAGE TWENTY-SIX
1  (CUT TO: the surface of a highly polished piece of wood across which a spider is scampering.)

Priest (off panel):         ... Then they shall just have to work HARDER, won’t they, my dear Prince?

2  (A hand is reaching down into the scene, over the spider.  It’s a man’s hand, soft and pampered, weaking expensive rings, with long manicured, elaborately painted fingernails, silhouettes of spiders painted on them.)

Prince (off panel):         Is that wise?  Those poor devils are dying off fast enough as it is.

3  (The hand has extended a single finger, scooping up the spider on the long nail.)

Priest (off panel):         What matter?  We’ve an AMPLE supply of workers in the slums.
Prince (off):         Still... we can’t push them TOO far, can we?

PAGE TWENTY-SEVEN
1  (We pull back to see we’re in the luxurious penthouse apartments of this city’s titular head, the PRINCE, a frail, soft young man of about 20, dressed in expensive, elaborate robes, reclining on a stack of pillows next to an ornately carved table, holding up the spider before his eyes.  Standing before him is the PRIEST, a middle-aged, hard-faced, cold-eyed mother in black robes and cape, a hood over his head.  There’s some sort of recurring spider-motif everywhere, from the furnishings to their clothing.  A glass cage full of spiders is on the table near PRINCE’S (arf arf) elbow.  A view of the magnificent city and the outlying slums are visible below through the windows of this towering structure.)

Priest:         YOU can do as you PLEASE, Prince Itcho.  Your will is sovereign.  It is so ordained.
Prince:         So you’ve TOLD me.

2  (The PRINCE is rising, carefully balancing the spider on his hand as it scampers around.  He looks bored.)

Prince:         Very well, do what you MUST, priest.  The CITIZENS mustn’t be deprived of their standard of living.

3  (PRINCE is depositing the spider into PRIEST’S hand.)

Priest:         As you WISH, my prince.
Prince:         Well, if there’s nothing else, I think I’ll NAP.  Here...

PAGE TWENTY-EIGHT
1  (CLOSE-UP of PRIEST’S outstretched hand, the spider in his palm.)

2  (TIGHT ON PRIEST’S face as he watches the prince leave.)

3  (BACK TO PRIEST’S hand, closing over the spider, squooshing it.)

4  (CUT TO: an ESTABLISHING SHOT of the roof of an old building in the slums, the following night.  There are two silhouetted figures -- SUKO and GRANDPA -- standing on the roof, all alone.  The modern city is visible in the distance, shining in the night.)

Suko:         That’s your plan, old man?

PAGE TWENTY-NINE
1  (MOVE IN ON THE TWO of them, SUKO regarding the old man with arms crossed over his chest.  GRANDPA is smiling in resignation, shrugging.)

Grandpa:         A meager one, I know, but it’s ALL we have.
Suko:         I seem to be doing all the work.

2  (SUKO is rubbing his chin thoughtfully as the old man reaches out and touches SUKO’S sword.)

Grandpa:         From what my granddaughter told me, you are UP to the job.
Suko:         I wasn’t in the middle of the enemy’s house then.

3  (CLOSE-UP of GRANDPA, dismissing this with a wave of his hand.)

Grandpa:         You can do it, warrior.  I can see it in your eyes.  You’re no stranger to impossible odds, eh?

PAGE THIRTY
1  (CLOSE-UP of SUKO, the briefest hint of a smile curling one side of his mouth.)

Suko:         No.  We’re well acquainted.
Grandpa (off):         Then you’ll help us...?

2  (SUKO is gripping the hilt of his sheathed sword in his fist and walking towards the stairs.)

Suko:         Why not?  Lost causes are a hobby of mine...

3  (CUT TO: later that night, in the streets of the slums, as the WARRIORS have come again to gather more workers.  They’re herding these poor unfortunates out of the buildings into the streets, marching them towards the waiting transports.)

Warrior:         Let’s GO!  Move it along!
Warrior B:         The FACTORIES are waiting for you, dogs!

To be concluded...

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Now THAT'S the Spirit!

The archaeological dig through my past continues as old files are sorted and full closets are emptied, yielding all sorts of wonderful and forgotten (or, in some cases, wonderfully forgotten!) treasures, personal and historic. Including an amazing and previously unknown piece of work by a seminal creator of the comics business; a Google search of said work produced zero results; I'm in touch with the creator's official biographer and we will be pursuing, at some point soon, a way to get this into publication with the family's blessing...but that's neither here nor there! We were, after all, talking about me.

Circa 1987, I apparently wrote up a hunch of ideas and sample scripts to submit to Cracked Magazine, the long-running Mad impersonator. One was a general piece, "What If Everybody Got In On The Max Headroom Craze?" (My guess is the result would have been that they too would be a forgotten pop cultural reference by now.) I also pitched a couple of ideas, "Wrestling From the Dark Side" and "The Cable-Ready World of Skeeter Kornfeld," an ongoing feature that would have allowed for all sorts of TV parodies. AND, "The Spookit," a parody of Will Eisner's The Spirit! My guess is the late-1980s TV movie had recently aired and, being an Eisner fan (although, who isn't?), I probably just went with it.

At any rate, I never did sell to Cracked, but my efforts at funny survive. Here, for you to mock and judge harshly (click on images to view them at a readable size), the unpublished script of "The Spookit":

(c) respective copyright holders







Sunday, June 27, 2010

Vague Memories of Mr. T Past


Another unpublished script found in the files...one appropriate to the month in which we saw the release of the A-Team movie. It's for a 2-page strip called "Mr. T's Commandment". From the address on the manuscript, this was written some time between 1985 and 1987. I only vaguely remember the job, which was for a custom comic but I don't recall in connection to what. I pity the poor fool that hadda write this!!

Click on the images below to see them in a readable size. Everything here is copyright by the people what hold 'em!


Monday, June 7, 2010

I Have No Memory of This Whatsoever...


From sometime before the age of computers (I got my first one, an Apple IIc, circa 1986), a script for a 6-page mini-comic that I apparently wrote, starring Green Lantern. The header reads "GENERAL FOODS Canadian Comics"...one of a series of comics packed in with Canadian Wheaties, eh? Truly, I do not recall...!

Monday, November 9, 2009

...Beware My Power, Green Lantern's Light! Extra

"Eyes of the Beholders!" Continued
© DC Comics

Pal and "Eyes of the Beholders!" penciller Rick Stasi sent me this scan, pulled from eBay, of a page (page 7 to be precise) from our (probably) never-published story, the script for which can be found in the previous three postings. Thanks, Ricky!

Enjoy!

Thursday, November 5, 2009

In Brightest Day, In Darkest Night-Part 1

The following script was written, if memory serves me -- and it seldom does -- in the mid-1980s. DC Comics legendary editor Julie Schwartz was semi-retired from monthly comics, but still working on special projects, like DC's science fiction graphic novel series, and, for a time, on fill-in issues of ongoing titles. Back before continuity was such a harsh mistress, a late-running issue could be substituted with a fill-in prepared well in advance and waiting in a drawer to be slipped into the schedule. Julie was given the job of commissioning and editing a boatload of such fill-in issues for the major DC titles; my friend Rick Stasi was scheduled to pencil this story, but for reasons I forget (if I ever knew 'em), most of these fill-ins never got drawn.

(Update: Pal and artist Rick Stasi dropped me an e-mail to tell me that this story was indeed penciled, lettered and inked and that, possibly, according to what he was told by editor Schwartz, it may have been used in comics albums licensed by German publisher Ehapa, for which I wrote or co-wrote with Bob Rozakis about half a dozen 48-page Superman stories, most unpublished in this country.)

I wrote a Green Lantern fill-in, this 19-page script one of the undrawn issues. Since I got my first computer late in 1986, this story, written on a typewriter (Google it), must pre-date that. The hand-written edits were Julie's work...as you can see, he did not spare the editorial pencil...

"The Eyes of the Beholders"-Part 1
© DC Comics







Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Wheet! Wheet! Part 2

HAWKWORLD: "A Matter of Conscience" Part 2

© DC Comics



PAGE NINE

1 (SCHINDLER is shaking hands with HAWK, still flustered by his presence, as KLEIN makes the appropriate introductions.)


Schindler: Uhm... yes, well... you’re HAWKMAN, aren’t you?

Klein: Yeah. This’s Mel Schindler, of the B’NAI B’RITH ANTI-DEFAMATION LEAGUE.

Hawk: Nice to meet you. Excuse me, but I’m not from around here... what’s a B’nai B’rith...?


2 (CLOSE-UP OF SCHINDLER, recovering his equalibrium as he speaks to Hawk.)


Schindler: Uh, yes... we’re an American Jewish service organization, involved in relief work and vocational training.

Schindler 2: I represent our Anti-Defamation League.

Hawk: I see. Do many people defame the B’nai B’rith, Mr. Schindler?


3 (SCHINDLER is looking at HAWK like he’s from another planet... which, in fact, he is. KLEIN is rolling his eyes to the heavens.)


Schindler: Not the group ITSELF, Mr.... er, Hawkman. Jews. And, yes, quite a few people do just that.

Schindler 2: Which is what I want to talk to YOU about, Lt. Klein. What are your people DOING about the vandalism of the memorial?


4 (CLOSE-UP of KLEIN as he reaches into his shirt pocket to extract a cigarette from the pack there. He looks tired.)


Klein: What’d you WANT from me, Schindler? Some loon takes a can of spray paint to the statue... no witnesses... no NOTHING.

Klein 2: All I CAN do is put a man on patrol in the park so it doesn’t happen again.


5 (SCHINDLER is angry, pointing a finger at KLEIN as HAWK looks on.)


Schindler: I thought you, of ALL people, would understand what vandalism of this sort MEANS. I suppose I was WRONG...

Klein: SAVE the GUILT okay? I KNOW... a damned sight BETTER than you--


6 (CLOSE-UP OF KLEIN, angrilly clamping his teeth down on the cigarette.)


Klein: -- But what I feel doesn’t mean SQUAT here. This sort of crap turns my stomach...


7 (CUT TO: to an ESTABLISHING SHOT of a small, tidy house on a street of similar houses, somewhere in SKOKIE. This is a heavily residential area of quiet streets lined with homes with their neat little patches of lawn out front. Very quiet, very nice... one of those ideal American communities in which to bring up the kiddies. Or live out your retirement years.)


Cap: “... But I can’t materialize a perp out of thin air with nothing to go on but my OUTRAGE...



PAGE TEN

1 (AROUND BACK of the house, by the back door to the kitchen: the light is on in the kitchen and, through the window, we can see old HIRAM moving past the window, carrying a dinner plate. On the wall of the house, we can see the shadows of three men moving towards the back door.)


Cap: “... And no matter how loud you HOWL for me to go rounding up the ‘USUAL suspects,’ I don’t PLAY that way--


2 (INSIDE THE HOUSE, in the kitchen, where HIRAM is just about to sit down at the small kitchen table to eat his dinner. His little dog is sitting on the floor beside the table, looking expectantly up at his master. HIRAM’S back is to the door, so he doesn’t see the silhouettes against the curtains on the kitchen door moving up towards the door.)


Cap: “-- So unless you’ve got some USEFUL information for me, you’re just WASTING my time...”

Hiram: STOP begging, Cassie. You have YOUR dinner, I have MINE.


3 (HIRAM is turning to look towards the kitchen door, brow furrowed, surprised. All he can see through the sheer curtains over the door’s window is a vague silhouette.)


Hiram: Eh? Who’s THERE...?

SFX: KNOK! KNOK!


4 (HIRAM is standing before the kitchen door, hesitant, unsure. The dog is sniffing at the bottom of the door.)

Hiram: I said, who’s there? I... I was just about to sit down to my dinner...

SFX: KNOK! KNOK! KNOK!


5 (Suddenly, a baseball bat is smashing through the door window, sending glass flying at HIRAM who is recoiling, covering his face with his arms in surprise.)


SFX: KRASSSH!


6 (Now the door itself is flying open, kicked in from the outside by a blackbooted foot.)


SFX: THWAMM!


7 (Standing framed in the doorway are three skinhead Nazi punks, dressed in leather and denim, torn t-shirts, and liberally festooned with a wide variety of Nazi symbols. Mean as can be... and meanest of them is the leader, WILKS, who’s at the fore of the group, tapping his baseball bat on the palm of his hand, a nasty smile on his face, directed at the scared, shocked old man.)


Wilks: I got something for you to CHEW on, pops!

Hiram: M- my... god... what... WHAT do you WANT...?!



PAGE ELEVEN

1 (WILKS, with his two goons right behind him, is stepping into the kitchen, pointing at old HIRAM with the baseball bat. HIRAM is backing away, frightened. The dog is snarling and growling at the skinheads.)


Wilks: Wanna TALK to you, old man. We HEARD what you said about us on the news. Didn’t like it.

Hiram: You... you get OUT of my house... right NOW, you HEAR me!


2 (FLASHBACK PANEL: HIRAM -- once as a teenager in the late-30s, early-40s -- is shielding his mother and sister from flying splinters as uniformed and heavily armed Nazis kick open the door to their apartment.)


3 (WILKS is poking HIRAM in the chest with the end of the bat, smiling coldly at the old man.)


Wilks: Not yet, Jew boy. Not till we discuss a few things... like your calling us ANIMALS. We think that’s real FUNNY--

Wilks 2: -- Coming outta a LOWER LIFE FORM like a JEW. Know what I mean?

Hiram: I... I KNOW... I know all ABOUT you... and your KIND...


4 (WILKS is looking over his shoulder at his two friends, smiling. He’s got HIRAM pinned against the wall now, holding the old man there with the end of the bat pressed against his chest.)


Wilks: Hear that? He knows us. That makes it EASY, don’t it?

Punk A: Yeah, Wilks. REAL easy.

Hiram: You... you’re a bunch of THUGS, you hear me?! You imitate a MONSTER... but HE couldn’t kill us all... YOU’LL never do it...


5 (WILKS is shouldering the baseball bat as he returns his gaze to old HIRAM, still smiling his cold-as-ice, hateful smile.)


Wilks: You gotta understand something here, Jew boy. Old Adolph-- he was on the RIGHT track, but he was TOO soft on all of you...


6 (Without warning, WILKS is swinging the bat, at old HIRAM, off panel.)


Wilks (burst): ... JUST TOO DAMNED SOFT!

Cap: “I find this whole situation AND your attitude DEPLORABLE...”

SFX: KRAKK!


7 (CUT TO: back to the police station, where an irate SCHINDLER is storming away from a fed-up KLEIN and a slightly confused HAWK.)


Schindler: ... And you can be sure the mayor and the media’s going to hear about this, Lt. Klein. COUNT on it!

Klein: Yeah, give hizzoner a big WET one for me while you’re at it.

Hawk: What was that all about, Lt.?



PAGE TWELVE

1 (KLEIN is dropping his cigarette to the floor in disgust, shaking his head in annoyance.)


Klein: Ahh, just some LOCAL trouble. You know anything about World War II? The Nazis?

Hawk: Some. But that’s history, isn’t it?


2 (CLOSE-UP OF KLEIN, looking down at his feet as he speaks.)


Klein: Not around HERE it isn’t. Anyway, the short of it is, part of the Nazi gameplan was the eradication of the Jewish race...

Klein 2: ... Mostly in CONCENTRATION CAMPS-- extermination centers where they worked European Jews to the brink of death--


3 (TIGHT ON KLEIN’S foot, as he grinds out the cigarette with the toe of his shoe.)


Klein: -- Then gassing or shooting the one’s who didn’t drop from starvation or exhaustion... 6 MILLION Jewish victims... probably the SAME number of other ethnic or racial UNDESIRABLES...


4 (KLEIN, pain and sorrow showing on his face, is looking up at HAWK.)


Klein: But, you know, try as they might, some of their victims SURVIVED the camps... 45 years later, a lot of them live here in Skokie.

Hawk: I appreciate the history lesson, but I don’t understand what that’s got to do with TODAY.


5 (KLEIN is looking over at a uniformed COP, who’s calling to him from across the room.)


Klein: Because you don’t FORGET something like that...

Cop: LT.! We got a call in... ASSAULT-- victim’s that old guy who reported the vandalism at the Memorial.

Klein 2: HELL!


6 (KLEIN, pissed, is reaching inside his office, grabbing up his jacket from inside. HAWK is looking on, clearly not sure what’s going on here.)


Klein: I don’t like the VIBES I’m getting here, Hawkman. I gotta GO... want to tag along?

Hawk: If I won’t be in the way.

Klein 2: You WON’T be--



PAGE THIRTEEN

1 (CUT TO: an ESTABLISHING SHOT of HIRAM’S house. There are several police cars and an ambulance outside the house, cops all over the place, some keeping the curious neighbors back.)


Cap: “-- And you might just LEARN something about us Earth folk...”

From house: ... ASSAULT, my rosy butt! This is as far past assault as you can get--


2 (INSIDE, in HIRAM’S kitchen, which is full of cops and detectives, including KLEIN and HAWKMAN, as well as a DOCTOR and two emergency medical technicians. The DOCTOR is helping the emergency techs load the battered HIRAM on a stretcher. Some detectives are searching the room for evidence, taking pictures. The table is overturned, the kitchen pretty savagely vandalized, everything smashed up... and the walls and other surfaces covered with spray-painted graphetti: swastikas over a Jewish star, anti-Semitic slogans. KLEIN is surveying the damage, seething with suppressed rage.)


Klein: -- This is TERRORISM, plain and simple.

Klein 2: Bastards!

Hawk: This isn’t just ANOTHER case to you, is it?


3 (The ambulance technicians are lifting up the stretcher with HIRAM on it in the foreground. Beyond this we see KLEIN turning to look at HAWK.)


Klein: You think? Maybe it’s got something to do with my being Jewish, huh?

Hawk: Maybe. But ANY decent man’s going to feel outrage at such a crime, regardless of religious affiliation.


4 (CLOSE-UP OF KLEIN, barely restraining his rage as he bites down on the filter of a cigarette he’s putting in his mouth.)


Klein: Maybe... or maybe not ENOUGH people get angry enough.

Klein 2: I don’t know... I suppose it’s better where you come from?


5 (CLOSE-UP OF HAWK, not looking all too happy himself, looking down, avoiding KLEIN’S eyes.)


Hawk: Uhhh... no...

Hawk 2: No. In some ways, Lt. Klein, it’s a whole lot WORSE...

Cap: “I didn’t tell him about the places BELOW on Thanagar--


6 (CUT TO: an ESTABLISHING SHOT of the park and the Survivor’s Memorial statue. It’s dawn and the park is empty... except for the winged figure of HAWK standing before the statue.)


Cap: “-- The places where living, sentient beings are DISPOSED of once they’ve served their purposes.

Cap 2: “Thanagar’s policy of conquest, domination, and enslavement of alien races.



PAGE FOURTEEN

1 (Move in on HAWK, standing before the statue, grimly looking up at it.)


Cap: “Thanagarians accept it.

Cap 2: “It allows them their lives of luxury and ease.


2 (CLOSE-UP of HAWK, his face shadowed, sad.)


Cap: “If they don’t think about it, they don’t have to DO anything about it.

Cap 2: “And if the price of their privilege is the suffering of a few alien inferiors--


3 (HAWK is walking away from the statue, towards a public telephone that’s conveniently located on the edge of the park.)


Cap: “-- So be it. It’s nothing I can understand or accept... MY race JUSTIFIES the destruction of DIFFERENT species...


4 (SHOT OF THE STATUE.)


Cap: “... While Earthmen destroy their OWN. People whose ONLY difference is the shading of their skin or the gods they worship.

Cap 2: “It’s beyond insanity. BOTH our systems... sheer insanity.


5 (HAWK is at the phonebooth, dailing a number.)


Cap: “How... WHY do they erect monuments to the VICTIMS, rather than the victors, or those who SAVED them from their fates?

Cap 2: “I wish to hell someone could EXPLAIN it to me...”


6 (HAWK on the phone.)


Hawk: Let me speak to Lt. Klein, please.... Hello, Lt. Klein... no, I was just wondering if you had heard about Mr. Wyznowski...

Hawk 2: He’s conscious? That’s good news... yes... yes, thank you, lieutenant. Good-bye.


7 (HAWK is hanging up the telephone, looking back over at the statue)

Cap: “I suppose I’ll just have to find someone to ASK.” -- From Katar Hol’s Personal Journal



PAGE FIFTEEN

1 (CUT TO: an ESTABLISHING SHOT of a CHICAGO neighborhood saloon... kind of like Bucket of Suds, in a residential neighborhood, the next day.)


From bar: ... It was WAY cool, man! Should’a seen how that old man went down. Learned him to lip off, eh, Wilks?

2nd from bar: That’s the TRUTH, man...


2 (INSIDE THE BAR: a real redneck joint, specializing in beers and shots and sports events on the TV set over the bar. Majorly working class. Seated in the back around several tables are WILKS, his buddies from before, and a half dozen other skinheads, all gathered around to hear the story of beating up the old man from WILKS’S own mouth. Bottles of beer litter the table tops, cigarette butts overflow ashtrays, and the bartender and couple other customers are keeping away from the boys in the back.)


Wilks: ... Figure every 40, 50 years, you gotta beat some RESPECT into ‘em. Learn ‘em RESPECT for their white, Christian BETTERS!

Thug: Right ON, man!

Thug B: Sheeny bastard knows who’s boss NOW!

Wilks 2: Yeah, the old man got the message--


3 (TIGHT ON WILKS, looking mean and tough as his buddies look on, hanging on his every word.)


Wilks: -- But what about the REST of ‘em? Man, hitting that old man really opened my eyes.

Wilks 2: I mean, we TALK about the problem, but what’d we DO about it?


4 (WILKS is snarling, holding up a fist in front of his face.)

Wilks: We been slackin’ off something FIERCE, guys!

Wilks 2: Well, no more, y’understand? We’re gettin’ ACTIVE, dig? We’re going HUNTING--

5 (CUT TO: an ESTABLISHING SHOT of SKOKIE GENERAL HOSPITAL, early morning.)


Cap: “-- To put the fear of the WHITE MAN’S GOD into Jew town!”

From hospital: ... Mr. Wyznowski? I hope I’m not disturbing you, sir.


6 (INSIDE THE HOSPITAL: KATAR is standing in the doorway of a private hospital room where old HIRAM is laying in the bed. He’s pretty badly beat up, his face a mass of bruises, one eye swollen closed, bandages on his head, his right arm in a cast. A uniformed COP is stationed outside the door in the hallway.)


Hiram: What else do I have to do? No, no, come right in, Mr....?

Katar: HOL, Mr. Wyznowski. Katar Hol.

Hiram 2: You’re with the police, Mr. Hall?


7 (KATAR is standing awkwardly by HIRAM’S bedside.)


Katar: In a manner of speaking. But I’m not investigating your attack... not exactly. You see, I was there with the police at your house last night...



PAGE SIXTEEN

1 (HIRAM is smiling, pointing the finger on his good hand at KATAR.)


Katar: They tried explaining it to me. The REASON for the attack, I mean. I’m not from here, and...

Hiram: SURE... I THOUGHT you looked familiar! You’re that HAWK fella from outer space, no?


2 (KATAR is sitting down on the edge of the bed, where HIRAM is patting the bed.)


Katar: Yes, sir. I suppose that’s why I can’t quite understand WHY things are as they are.

Hiram: Sit down, sit down.

Hiram 2: Oy. To ME you came for those answers?


3 (HIRAM is smiling gently, patting KATAR’S knee.)


Hiram: Let me tell you something, Mr. Hawk-person... I’ve lived with such hatred all my life, and I couldn’t BEGIN to tell you WHY it exists.


4 (CLOSE-UP of HIRAM’S battered, bandaged face.)


Hiram: Don’t look so glum. Look, who can say why somebody hates? In 1938, I was a young man in Poland and I didn’t hate ANYBODY.

Hiram 2: Then Hitler and his Nazis came in and, suddenly, because I was a Jew, I was no good!


5 (FLASHBACK PANEL: It’s the early-40s and we see young HIRAM, gaunt, half-starved, wearing a ragged striped concentration camp uniform, one of many working with picks and shovels on a road or digging a ditch. They are all under the hostile guard of Nazi soldiers. HIRAM is glaring up at the nearest Nazi as he works.)


Cap: “They locked us in ghettos. They starved us. They whittled away our number. They sent us to their hellish camps...

Cap 2: “... And they taught me how to HATE. Sure, who wouldn’t hate them for exterminating my family, friends... my race?


6 (FLASHBACK: Inside the barbed wire of the concentration camp, a sympathetic teenage German boy in a uniform too large for him is passing the only slightly older HIRAM a hunk of bread.)


Cap: “But even then, not everything was so black and white. In the heart of hell, I found the occasional act of KINDNESS.”

Continued…