Alan

Moore’s
outline
for the
entire
series
Issue One
Issue One
Issue Two
Issue Two
Issue Three
Issue Three
Issue Four
Issue Four
Issue Five
Issue Five
Issue Six
Issue Six
Issue Seven
Issue Seven
Issue Eight
Issue Eight
Issue Nine
Issue Nine
Issue Ten
Issue Ten
Issue Eleven
Issue Eleven

The Great Fire of Northampton occurred in 1675 in the town of

Northampton in Northamptonshire, England. The blaze was caused by
sparks from an open fire in St. Mary’s Street near Northampton Castle,
and devastated the town centre, destroying about 700 buildings [out of
850] including All Saints church, in six hours. Three quarters of the town
was destroyed, 11 people died and about 700 families were made home-
less. Many people escaped the fire by going through Welsh House on the
market square to safety.
Issue Twelve
Issue Twelve
Script
extract
for
Issue 3
BIG NUMBERS
THREE (EXERPT - TWENTY PAGES)
PAGE 1
PANEL 1
“ONLY ON PAPER HAS HUMANITY YET ACHIEVED GLORY, BEAUTY, TRUTH,
KNOWLEDGE, VIRTUE, AND ABIDING LOVE.” – GEORGE BERNARD SHAW.
HELLO, BILL. THE RECURRENT VISUAL THEME RUNNING THROUGH THIS
ISSUE IS THAT OF PAPER GETTING SCREWED UP. IN THIS LIGHT, I’M NOT
ENTIRELY SURE OF THE RELEVANCE OF THE ABOVE SHAW QUOTE..IT WAS
JUST THE ONLY ENTRY UNDER “PAPER” IN MY DICTIONARY OF QUOTATIONS.
PERHAPS ITS MEANING WILL BECOME LESS OPAQUE AS WE PROGRESS WITH
OUR NARRATIVE. LET’S HOPE SO.
THIS FIRST PAGE HAS TWELVE PANELS, IN WHICH E ARE BASICALLY LOOKING
AT CHRISTINE’S SISTER JANICE AS SHE SITS IN HER CHAIR BY THE WALL OF
THE HOSPITAL SIDE-WARD DURING HER VIGIL OVER THE AS YET UNSEEN
FORM OF HER COMATOSE BOYFRIEND KEITH. I WANT YOU TO IMAGINE WE
ARE LOOKING AT JANICE FROM THE FRONT AS SHE SITS AGAINST THE WALL
FACING US, AND THAT SHE IS READING FROM AN ILLUSTRATED AND
LAVISHLY PRINTED SURVEY FORM. THE FORM CONSISTS OF A SINGLE SHEET,
PRINTED FRONT AND BACK, IN WHICH BRIGHT, SIMPLE IMAGES OF
CONSUMER LIVING SURROUND A LIST OF QUESTIONS THAT ARE BRIGHTLY
NUMBERED. AS JANICE SITS READING, THE TOP OF THIS FORM HAS FLOPPED
OVER BACKWARDS SO THAT IT IS VISIBLE UPSIDE DOWN AS WE LOOK AT
HER. NOW, FOR THIS FIRST PANEL, I WANT YOU TO IMAGINE THAT WE HAVE
ZOOMED RIGHT IN UPON THE UPSIDE DOWN FOLDED FLAP OF THE SURVEY
FORM. MORE PRECISELY, WE HAVE ZOOMED IN UPON THE COLUMN OF BIG,
RINGED NUMBERS THAT MARK THE QUESTIONS, ALTHOUGH WE ARE SO
CLOSE TO THESE THAT WE CANNOT SEE THE QUESTIONS THEMSELVES. ALL
WE SEE HERE ARE TWO OR THREE BIG, UPSIDE DOWN NUMBERS, PROBABLY
BEING NUMBERS BETWEEN ONE AND FOUR SINCE THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO
RELATE TO THE QUESTIONS AT THE VERY START OF THE SURVEY. THESE
INVERTED DIGITS FILL THE ENTIRE FIRST PANEL, LEADING US INTO THE ISSUE
FROM THE FIELD OF NUMBERS THAT FILLS THE INSIDE FRONT COVER.
JANICES SPEECH BALLOON ISSUES FROM OFF PANEL ABOVE.
JANICE (OFF, ABOVE): ...gave Mum two extra forms, but Chris was sulking
about her novel, so she wouldn’t DO here.
PANEL 2
NOW WE PULL BACK A LITTLE FROM THE INTENSIVE CLOSE UP OF THE
UPSIDE DOWN NUMBERS. IN THIS SHOT, WE CAN SEE THE QUESTIONS (ALSO
UPSIDE DOWN) THAT ARE APPENDED TO THE RINGED NUMBERS, THESE
BEING SIMPLE THINGS LIKE NAME? ADDRESS? DO YOU OWN THE ABOVE
PROPERTY? AND SO FORTH, WHICH NEEDN’T BE LEGIBLE HERE UNLESS YOU
WANT THEM TO BE. WE CAN ALSO NOW SEE, PULLING BACK, THAT WE HAVE
BEEN LOOKING AT THE FLOPPED OVER TOP OF A SURVEY FORM, AND WE
CAN PERHAPS GLIMPSE A LITTLE OF JANICE’S HAND..HER THUMB OR
SOMETHING..ENTERING THE PANEL FROM OFF TO ONE SIDE AS SHE HOLDS
THE PIECE OF PAPER. HER BALLOONS STILL ENTER THE PANEL FROM OFF PIC
ABOVE.
JANICE (OFF, ABOVE): Anyway, this spare form, I thought “Oo! Keith would
like that. I’ll…”
JANICE (OFF, ABOVE): Keith? Are you listening?
PANEL 3
PULL BACK A LITTLE FURTHER, SO THAT WE CAN NOW SEE THE WHOLE OF
THE SHEET WITH ITS TOP FOLDED BACK AND A LITTLE OF JANICE AS SHE SITS
THERE IMMEDIATELY BEYOND IT, HOLDING IT UP BEFORE HER AS SHE READS
IT OUT TO THE OFF-PANEL KEITH. SHE’S PROBABLY SITTING THERE IN HER
RAINCOAT, AND IF WE CAN SEE ANY OF HER FACE ENTERING THE PANEL
FROM ITS UPPER REACHES THEN WE SHOULD ONLY SEE THE LOWER FACE,
WITH HER EYES NOT YET VISIBLE.
JANICE (FROM ABOVE): Good.
JANICE (FROM ABOVE): Well, anyway, it’s to do with a new shopping centre
and I’ve filled in the first four already..
PANEL 4
OKAY, IN THIS PANEL WE PULL BACK JUST A LITTLE FURTHER SO THAT WE
NOW HAVE A COMFORTABLE HALF FIGURE TO HEAD AND SHOULDERS SHOT
OF JANICE AS SHE SITS FACING US IN HER HOSPITAL CHAIR, HOLDING THE
SURVEY FORM UP IN FRONT OF HER, HER EYES DOWNCAST TOWARDS IT AS
SHE READS FROM IT. HER EXPRESSION, AS USUAL, IS FAIRLY NEUTRAL. ALSO,
WE STILL CAN’T GET MUCH IDEA WHERE SHE IS FROM HER IMMEDIATE
VISIBLE SURROUNDINGS, JUST LIKE ON THE PREVIOUS OCCASIONS WHEN
WE’VE SEEN HER SITTING WITH KEITH AT THE HOSPITAL. KEITH, AS EVER, IS
OFF PANEL SOMEWHERE IN THE FOREGROUND..ITS ALMOST AS IF WE WERE
LOOKING AT JANICE THROUGH HIS COMATOSE EYES, ALTHOUGH WE WON’T
REALIZE THAT UNTIL LATER ON IN THIS ISSUE.
JANICE: “Name: Keith Peach
              Address: Hospital
              Do you own the above property?: No I don’t.
              Job or trade: Plumbing.”
PANEL 5
OKAY, NOW FOR THE REST OF THIS TWELVE PANEL PAGE WE HOLD ON THE SAME
SHOT OF JANICE, JUST SITTING THERE FACING US IN A HEAD AND SHOULDERS TO
HALF FIGURE SHOT. ONLY JANICE MOVES THROUGHOUT THIS PAGE, AND THEN
ONLY SLIGHTLY. HERE, SHE STILL ISN’T LOOKING AT US, BUT STILL HAS HER
LOWERED EYES FIXED UPON THE FORM. HERE, SHE IS FROWNING SLIGHTLY AS IF
IN MILD PUZZLEMENT AT THE WORDING OF THE NEXT QUESTION.
JANICE: Then it says “Are you currently functioning in the above trade?”
             So that’s, like, “Are you in plumbing?”
PANEL 6
SAME SHOT. HERE, HOWEVER, JANICE LOOKS UP FROM THE FORM AND
DIRECTS A COOL AND QUESTIONING GLANCE DIRECTLY AT US, LOOKING
DIRECTLY INTO OUR EYES. OH, INCIDENTALLY, I SHOULD HAVE MENTIONED
THAT JANICE IS HOLDING A BALL-POINT PEN IN HER OTHER HAND. SORRY
ABOUT THAT. HERE, THE PEN IS PAUSED, POISED ABOVE THE FORM AS
JANICE DIRECTS HER QUESTIONING GLANCE TOWARDS THE OFF PANEL KEITH
BEFORE CONTINUING.
No Dialogue
PANEL 7
SAME SHOT. HERE, JANICE HAS RETURNED HER GAZE TO THE FORM, AND IS
WRITING UPON IT WITH THE BALL-POINT. HER EYES ARE ONCE MORE
LOWERED, AND SHE IS NO LONGER LOOKING AT US OR KEITH AS SHE
CONTINUES TO FILL OUT THE FORM.
JANICE: I’ll put “Sort of”, shall I?
PANEL 8
SAME SHOT. ALTHOUGH SHE HAS ONCE MORE STOPPED WRITING, JANICE
STILL HAS HER EYES LOWERED TO FOCUS UPON THE FORM AS SHE READS
FROM IT, STILL WEARING THE SAME NEUTRAL EXPRESSION.
JANICE: Now, following on, are you VERY interested, QUITE interested or
             NOT AT ALL interested in purchasing the following items…
PANEL 9
SAME SHOT. AS SHE FINISHES READING HER LIST OF ITEMS FOR PURCHASE
SHE LOOKS UP AT BOTH US AND KEITH WITH A POLITE AND INQUIRING
SMILE THAT SHE HAS PRESUMABLE LEARNED DURING HER TENURE BEHIND
THE DESK AT THE SOCIAL SECURITY OFFICES.
JANICE: Luxury bathroom fittings, Do-It-Yourself power equipment, freshly-
blended coffee, or sporting accessories?
PANEL 10
SAME SHOT, WITH JANICE IN MORE OR LESS EXACTLY THE SAME POSITION
AND STILL LOOKING AT US. HERE, HOWEVER, THE LITTLE SMILE THAT SHE
HAD ON HER FACE LAST PANEL DIES AWAY, TO BE REPLACED BY A LOOK OF
DULL AND RESIGNED DISAPPOINTMENT AS SHE STARES AT THE OFF PANEL
FORM OF HER COMATOSE BOYFRIEND.
No Dialogue
PANEL 11
SAME SHOT. STILL WITH HER EYES LOOKING DIRECTLY TOWARDS US, JANICE
STARTS TO TUCK THE SURVEY FORM ABSENTLY INTO HER HANDBAG,
STARTING TO RISE SLIGHTLY FROM HER SEAT AS SHE DOES SO. AS SHE LOOKS
TOWARDS US, HER EXPRESSION IS FAIRLY NEUTRAL, BUT STILL TINGED WITH
THE RESIGNED AND DISAPPOINTED LOOK THAT WE GLIMPSED LAST PANEL.
SHE JUST LOOKS ROUTINELY FED UP WITH LIFE IN GENERAL AS SHE BEGINS
TO RISE FROM HER SEAT, LOOKING TOWARDS US.
JANICE: Well, look, I’ll leave you to mull that over while I fetch meself a cup
of tea out of the machine, alright?
PANEL 12
NOW WE JUST SEE THE EMPTY CHAIR STANDING AGAINST THE WALL,
PERHAPS WITH JANICE’S HANDBAG RESTING UPON IT. JANICE HAS GONE,
AND OTHER THAN THE CHAIR, THE HANDBAG AND THE WALL, THE PANEL IS
COMPLETELY EMPTY. IT IS THE EVENING OF SATURDAY, THE 24TH OF
SEPTEMBER, 1988.
No Dialogue
PAGE 2
PANEL 1
THERE ARE TWELVE PANELS AGAIN ON THIS SECOND PAGE, BUT HERE WE
CHANGE SCENES AND JUMP BACK IN TIME TO SHOW CHRISTINE
ATTEMPTING TO GET STARTED ON HER NOVEL, ON THE MORNING OF
SATURDAY THE 24TH. ALL THE PANELS ON THIS PAGE ARE FROM A STATIC
SHOT, WHICH I WILL ATTEMPT TO SET UP AS FOLLOWS: WE ARE IN THE
UPSTAIRS BEDROOM AT AUDREY GATHERCOLE’S HOUSE THAT WE SAW
BRIEFLY TOWARDS THE END OF ISSUE ONE, THIS BEING THE ROOM THAT
CHRISTINE IS USING WHILE SHE STAYS AT AUDREY’S. I FIGURE THAT
CHRISTINE HAS A SMALL TABLE SET UP SOMEWHERE TO ONE SIDE OF THE
ROOM, UPON WHICH SHE HAS A SMALLISH MANUAL TYPE WRITER, A BOX
OF CROXLEY SCRIPT TYPING PAPER AND A BOTTLE OF CORRECTION FLUID
RESTING. THERE IS ALSO A SPIRAL BOUND NOTEBOOK AND A BALL-POINT
PEN. CHRISTINE IS DRESSED SLOPPILY AND CASUALLY, AND WE SEE HER IN
PROFILE HERE, PROBABLY FULL FIGURE, AS SHE SITS THERE AT HER
MAKESHIFT DESK WITH THE TOOLS OF HER TRADE ARRAYED BEFORE HER.
SHE WEARS A NEUTRAL EXPRESSION HERE HAS SHE REACHES OUT TO WIND
A SINGLE SHEET OF CROXLEY SCRIPT INTO THE ROLLERS OF THE MANUAL
TYPEWRITER, AND AS WE LOOK BEYOND HER INTO THE NEAR BACKGROUND
WE CAN SEE THE OPEN DOOR TO HER ROOM, WHICH LEADS OUT ONTO
AUDREY’S SMALL UPSTAIRS LANDING. THE DÉCOR IN THIS ROOM,
INCIDENTALLY, IS NOTHING THAT CHRISTINE WOULD HAVE CHOSEN FOR
HERSELF, CONSISTING MAINLY OF AN INAPPROPRIATE WALLPAPER DESIGN
AND A CONTRADICTORY PAINT SCHEME UPON ALTERNATING WALLS.
CHRISTINE LOOKS COMPOSED AND PROFESSIONAL AS SHE ROLLS THE PAPER
INTO HER MACHINE, READY TO BEGIN.
No Dialogue
PANEL 2
SAME SHOT, ONLY HERE CHRISTINE SITS BACK SLIGHTLY IN HER CHAIR,
HAVING SUCCESSFULLY FITTED THE PAPER INTO THE ROLLERS OF THE
MACHINE. AS WE SEE HER HERE SHE HAS REACHED OUT AND PICKED UP HER
SPIRAL BOUND NOTEBOOK FROM THE DESK TOP, FROWNING SLIGHTLY IN
CONCENTRATION AS SHE READS FROM IT, CHECKING HER NOTES ONE LAST
TIME BEFORE SHE EMBARKS UPON THE FIRST CHAPTER. THE TEXT THAT
CHRISTINE IS READING LETTERED IN A LOOSE BUT LEGIBLE BALL-POINT
SCRAWL IS MAYBE LETTERED UPON RULED LINES UP AT THE TOP OF THE
PANEL SOMEWHERE, TO SUGGEST THAT THIS IS WHAT CHRISTINE IS
READING AS SHE READS THROUGH THE SPIRAL BOUND NOTE-PAD. UP TO
YOU WHETHER THE SIMULATED BALLPOINT WRITING IS ENCLOSED IN A
CAPTION BOX OF ANY KIND…MAYBE IT COULD JUST BE FLOATING IN THE AIR
IN A VAGUELY CLOUDY AREA OF THE PICTURE. SEE WHAT LOOKS BEST AND
DO ACCORDINGLY, ANYWAY. THE CROSSINGS OUT AND ROUGH
UNDERLININGS IN THE BALL-POINT TEXT IMMEDIATELY BELOW SHOULD BE
LEFT INTACT, BY WAY OF VERISIMILITUDE, INCIDENTALLY.
BALLPOINT WRITING (UPPER PANEL): THE NEW ELECTRIC HEART
                 Chapter 1: Establish Cynthia, post-Terry: Age 34; despairing;
devastated. Make funny, not depressing!
PANEL 3
SAME SHOT. HERE, CHRISTINE HAS REPLACED THE PAD UPON HER DESK-TOP
AND HAS NOW TURNED HER ATTENTIONS TO THE TYPEWRITER ITSELF.
LEANING FORWARD OVER THE KEYS SHE STARTS TO PECK AT THEM, TWO-
FINGERED. UPON HER FACE THERE IS AN ALMOST CHILDISH LOOK OF
CONCENTRATION. THE TEXT THAT SHE IS TYPING APPEARS, IN A SUITABLE
TYPEWRITER TYPE-FACE, UP IN THE SAME CLOUDY AREA OF THE UPPER
PANEL REACHES THAT THE BALL-POINT WRITING APPEARED IN LAST PANEL.
HERE, OBVIOUSLY, THE TYPE IS AGAINST AN UNLINED BACKGROUND, JUST
FLOATING IN NEAT LINES ABOVE CHRISTINE’S HEAD AS SHE TYPES.
TYPE (UPPER PANEL): CHAPTER 1
              Named after her father’s favourite aunt and her mother’s favourite
chocolate, Cynthia Praline Pike had not been an
PANEL 4
SAME SHOT. CHRISTINE CONTINUES TO TYPE, HER CONCENTRATION
DEEPENING. SHE DOESN’T MOVE MUCH FROM HER POSITION OF LAST
PANEL, EXCEPT THAT HER BEHIND SHIFTS FAINTLY UPON THE HARD CHAIR
THAT SHE IS SITTING UPON AND HER FINGERS MOVE UNCERTAINLY OVER
THE KEYBOARD. OTHER THAN THAT THE IMAGE IS ALMOST IDENTICAL. THE
CONTINUING TYPE STILL APPEARS IN THE MURKY AREA ABOVE CHRISTINE’S
HEAD.
TYPE (UPPER PANEL): optimist since her christening, some thirty-four years
earlier: An optimist would say that the bad was half full. Sprawling
PANEL 5
SAME SHOT. HERE, CHRISTINE’S FINGERS SEEM TO PAUSE OVER THE KEYS IN
MID SENTENCE AND SHE LOOKS UP FROM HER WORK WITH A LOOK OF
SURPRISE. AS IF SHE HAS HEARD SOMETHING. IN FACT, SHE HAS HEARD THE
TELEPHONE RINGING DOWNSTAIRS, BUT SINCE WE DON’T HAVE ANY SOUND
EFFECTS IN THIS STRIP, THIS WILL NOT BE CLEAR UNTIL THE DIALOGUE
MAKES IT OBVIOUS IN A COUPLE OF PANELS TIME. HERE SHE JUST LOOKS UP
AND SWEARS BENEATH HER BREATH. THE TYPED WORDS THAT SHE IS JUST
COMPLETING HERE STILL FLOAT ABOVE HER HEAD HERE, IN THE CLOUDY
AREA TOWARDS THE MIDDLE OF THE PANEL’S UPPER REACHES.
TYPE (UPPER PANEL): alone, what Cynthia said mostly consisted of “Oh
Terry”, or “Oh shit.” This went on for months. Occasionally
CHRISTINE: Oh shit.
PANEL 6
SAME SHOT, ONLY HERE CHRISTINE HAS PUSHED HER CHAIR BACK FROM THE
DESK AND HAS RISEN FROM HER SEATED POSITION. AS WE SEE HER HERE
SHE IS JUST RUNNING OUT OF THE ROOM AND ONTO THE SMALL LANDING
THROUGH THE OPEN DOOR. I DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH OF THE LANDING
WILL BE VISIBLE HERE, BUT IF WE CAN SEE THE TOP OF THE STAIRS THEN
CHRISTINE IS RUNNING OUT OF THE ROOM IN SUCH A WAY THAT IT’S
OBVIOUS THAT SHE IS RUNNING TOWARDS THEM, ABOUT TO RUN
DOWNSTAIRS AND ANSWER THE PHONE IN THE HALL. SHE LEAVES THE
TYPEWRITER AND THE PARTLY-TYPED PAGE THAT STICKS OUT OF IT RESTING
ON THE TABLE UP IN THE FOREGROUND.
CHRISTINE: HANG ON! Hang on. I’m coming..
CHRISTINE: Shit.
PANEL 7
SAME SHOT, BUT HERE CHRISTINE HAS RUN DOWN STAIRS AND IS NO LONGER
VISIBLE. WE JUST SEE THE NEGLECTED TYPEWRITER UP IN THE FOREGROUND
AND THE EMPTY LANDING VISIBLE THROUGH THE OPEN DOOR BEHIND IT.
CHRISTINE’S BALLOONS, VISIBLE THROUGH THE OPEN DOOR, SEEMS TO BE
ISSUING UP INTO VIEW FROM DOWNSTAIRS SOMEWHERE.
CHRISTINE (OFF, DOWNSTAIRS): Hello?
CHRISTINE (OFF, DOWNSTAIRS): Yeah, speaking. The Hampton..? Oh, the
ADVERTISER. Yeah, I know it. What do..?
CHRISTINE (OFF, DOWNSTAIRS): Hmm. Well, if it isn’t a LONG interview..
PANEL 8
SAME SHOT EXACTLY AS OUR LAST PANEL. THE SEAT IS STILL VACANT IN THE
FOREGROUND AND CHRISTINE IS STILL NOT VISIBLE THROUGH THE OPEN
DOOR THAT LOOKS OUT ONTO THE CRAMPED LANDING. HER BALLOONS
STILL ENTER INTO THE PANEL FROM OFF-PIC AT THE BOTTOM, DRIFTING UP
FROM THE HALL DOWNSTAIRS.
CHRISTINE (OFF, DOWNSTAIRS): Yeah, yeah, later this morning’s fine.
Incidentally, how did you know I was back in .?
CHRISTINE (OFF, DOWNSTAIRS): Yeah, yeah, small town. I suppose so.
CHRISTINE (OFF, DOWNSTAIRS): Okay. See you later.
PANEL 9
SAME SHOT, ONLY NOW, THROUGH THE OPEN DOOR, WE SEE CHRISTINE
TRUDGING BACK UPSTAIRS AND ONTO THE LANDING. HER FACE LARGELY
EXPRESSIONLESS AFTER HER BRIEF PHONE CONVERSATION. THE EMPTY SEAT
AND THE TYPEWRITER WAIT FOR HER IN THE FOREGROUND.
No Dialogue
PANEL 10
SAME SHOT. HERE, CHRISTINE IS ONCE AGAIN SEATED BEFORE HER
TYPEWRITER. LEANING FORWARD AND PULLING THE TOP OF THE PARTLY
TYPED PAGE UP A LITTLE WITH ONE HAND SHE SQUINTS AS SHE READS
WHAT SHE HAS WRITTEN. IN THE CLOUDY SPACE ABOVE HER HEAD WE SEE
THE WAY HER WRITING LOOKS TO HER NOW AS HER EYES SCAN ACROSS IT,
JUST PICKING OUT WORDS HERE AND THERE. THEY WAY WE REPRESENT
THIS IS TO CUT UP THE LINES OF TYPE THAT WE USED EARLIER AND SET
THEM AT SLIGHTLY JUMBLED ANGLES TO EACH OTHER TO SUGGEST THE
DISJOINTED QUALITY OF CHRISTINE’S RAPID READ-THROUGH. THE
DIFFERENT PHRASES AND DIVIDED BY SPACES BELOW, AND IN THE FINISHED
PANEL THEY SHOULD BE SHOWN AS SEPARATE CUT-UP STRIPS OF TYPE, SET
SLIGHTLY AT ANGLES TO EACH OTHER TO SUGGEST A MENTAL JUMBLE OF
PHRASES. HOPE THAT MAKES SENSE TO YOU. THE ORDER OF THE PIECES
SHOULD BE SOMETHING LIKE THE ORDER BELOW, WITH “SHIT” BEING ONE
LITTLE WORD ALONE ON THE BOTTOM ROW, SO THAT THE CLUTTER OF
TYPED PHRASES LOOKS SOMETHING LIKE AN INVERTED TRIANGLE.
CHRISTINE STARES AT THE PAGE WITH A NEUTRAL EXPRESSION AS SHE RE-
READS WHAT SHE’S WRITTEN AND TRIES TO PICK UP THE THREADS AFTER
HER PHONE CONVERSATION.
JUMBLED TYPE (UPPER PANEL): her father’s favourite
                                              chocolate         Pike          had not been
                                                  since     four years earlier  :  An
                                                         optimist would say that
                                                                   was half full
                                                                          of
                                                                           shit
PANEL 11
LOOKING DISGUSTED WITH WHAT SHE HAS WRITTEN CHRISTINE YANKS THE
PAGE FROM THE TYPEWRITER AND STARTS TO CRUMPLE IT INTO A BALL.
INCIDENTALLY, I SHOULD HAVE MENTIONED IN MY DESCRIPTIONS FOR PANEL
ONE THAT THERE IS A METAL WASTE-PAPER BIN STANDING SOMEWHERE
NEAR CHRISTINE’S DESK, ALREADY FAIRLY FULL OF SCRAP PAPER. THIS
SHOULD HAVE BEEN VISIBLE THROUGHOUT THE PREVIOUS TEN PANELS, BUT
I FORGOT TO TELL YOU ABOUT IT. SORRY. ANYWAY, IT’S VISIBLE IN THIS
PANEL AS WE SEE THE PISSED OFF AND SCOWLING CHRISTINE START TO
CRUMPLE HER MANUSCRIPT, WRENCHING IT FROM BETWEEN THE ROLLERS
AS SHE DOES SO.
No Dialogue
PANEL 12
IN THIS LAST PANEL, WE JUST HAVE A SHOT CLOSING IN UPON THE WASTE-
PAPER BIN. THE BIN ITSELF ENTERS FROM THE RIGHT OF THE PANEL. NOT
ENTIRELY VISIBLE HERE, AND LYING ON THE CARPETED FLOOR NEXT TO THE
BIN WE SEE THE CRUMPLED BALL THAT IS ALL THAT REMAINS OF
CHRISTINE’S MANUSCRIPT. THE WORDS “CHAPTER 1” ARE PERHAPS STILL
VISIBLE UPON ONE OF IT’S CRUMPLED SURFACES. IT JUST RESTS THERE ON
THE FLOOR WHERE CHRISTINE HAS THROWN IT, INERT AND MOTIONLESS
NEXT TO THE METAL WASTE-PAPER BIN. UP TO YOU WHETHER WE SEE A
GLIMPSE OF CHRISTINE’S SNEAKER-GARBED FEET IN THE BACKGROUND OR
NOT HERE, BUT THE CRUMPLED BALL OF TYPING PAPER SHOULD BE THE
MAIN FOCUS OF ATTENTION IN EITHER EVENT.
No Dialogue
PAGE 3
PANEL 1
THERE ARE NINE PANELS ON THIS THIRD PAGE, WITH FOUR PANELS UPON
EACH OF THE UPPER TWO TIERS AND THEN ONE BIG WIDE PANEL ON THE
BOTTOM-MOST TIER. IT IS STILL THE MORNING OF THE 24TH, AND WE CUT
ACROSS TO BRAMBLE HILL ESTATE AND THE HOME OF COLIN AND HILARY
WORDSWORTH WHERE WE FIND HILARY SUBMITTING TO SOME DOORSTEP
RESEARCH BY ANSWERING A NUMBER OF QUESTIONS FOR ONE OF THE
YOUNG WOMEN EMPLOYED BY THE MALL’S ADVANCE MARKET ANALYSIS
TEAM. ALL WE SEE IN THIS FIRST PANEL IS AN EXTREME CLOSE UP OF THE
COLUMN OF LARGE RINGED NUMBERS THAT ARE SET OUT OF THE FORM TO
INDICATE THE DIFFERENT QUESTIONS. THIS PANEL IS VERY SIMILAR TO THE
FIRST PANEL ON PAGE ONE, EXCEPT THAT HERE THE TWO OR THREE
NUMBERS THAT WE CAN SEE ARE RIGHT WAY UP. THE RESEARCHER’S
BALLOON ISSUES FROM OFF PANEL ABOVE.
RESEARCHER (OFF, ABOVE): “Hilary…Anne…WORDSWORTH.” Lovely. Now,
I’ve got your address, lets see…
RESEARCHER (OFF, ABOVE, SEPARATE BALLOON): “Do you own the
property?”
PANEL 2
WE PULL BACK A LITTLE SO THAT WE CAN SEE SOME OF THE QUESTIONS
APPENDED TO THE NUMBERS AND MORE OF THE ILLUSTRATED AND
LAVISHLY PRODUCED FORM THAT THEY ARE SET UPON. WE CAN ALSO SEE
ONE OF THE RESEARCHER’S THUMBS AS SHE HOLDS THE FORM UP IN FRONT
OF HER WHILE SHE READS. FOR YOUR INFORMATION, WE ARE READING THE
FORM OVER THE RESEARCHER’S SHOULDER, BUT WE HAVEN’T PULLED BACK
FAR ENOUGH FOR THIS TO BECOME APPARENT YET. THE RESEARCHER’S
BALLOON IN OUR LAST PANEL SHOULD HAVE ISSUED FROM SOMEWHERE
TOWARDS THE UPPER RIGHT CORNER OF THE PANEL WHILE IN THIS
CURRENT PANEL HILARY’S RESPONDING BALLOON ISSUES FROM THE UPPER
LEFT CORNER.
HILARY (OFF, UPPER LEFT): Course not, else we’d have repainted the front
door.
RESEARCHER (OFF, UPPER RIGHT): “We”. Married, then. Is he in work, your
husband?
PANEL 3
WE CONTINUE TO PULL BACK SO THAT HERE WE CAN SEE THE WHOLE OF
THE FORM, SOME OF THE HAND OF THE RESEARCHER ENTERING FROM OFF
PANEL AND A LITTLE OF HILARY WORDSWORTH AS SHE STANDS ON HER
DOORSTEP, FACING US FROM THE IMMEDIATE BACKGROUND. WE CAN’T SEE
MUCH OF HER HERE, ALTHOUGH WE CAN PERHAPS SEE PART OF HER
PERPETUALLY SCOWLING LOWER FACE AS SHE STANDS THERE WITH HER
ARMS FOLDED DOGGEDLY, ENDURING THE STREAM OF QUESTIONS AND
GRUFFLY SUPPLYING HER ANSWERS. THE RESEARCHER STILL ISN’T VISIBLE,
OTHER THAN HER HAND HOLDING THE FORM AND PERHAPS ANOTHER
HAND HOLDING A PEN, BOTH ENTERING FROM OFF PANEL TO ONE SIDE OF
THE FOREGROUND.
 
HILARY: Yeah..building. His firms’ after that Yank shopping centre contract.
That what this survey’s about?
RESEARCHER (OFF): Well..yes, actually.
RESEARCHER (OFF): Hilary, do you have children?
PANEL 4
NOW WE CONTINUE TO PULL BACK SO THAT WE CAN SEE JUST A LITTLE
MORE OF THE RESEARCHER IN THE FOREGROUND BUT SO THAT WE CAN
MOSTLY SEE THE STOICAL AND GRIM FIGURE OF HILARY AS SHE STANDS
ROUGHLY HALF FIGURE FACING US FROM THE BACKGROUND WHILE SHE
SPEAKS. HER FACE IS SULLEN AS SHE REPLIES. IF WE CAN SEE THE
RESEARCHER’S HANDS THEY ARE BUSY SCRIBBLING ANSWERS DOWN UPON
THE SURVEY FORM IN RESPONSE TO WHAT HILARY IS SAYING.
HILARY: Three. Damien’s thirteen; Sigourney, she’s ten; and William Henry,
he’s two.
HILARY: Contraceptive failure.
PANEL 5
WE CONTINUE TO PULL BACK NOW SO THAT WE ARE STILL LOOKING AT
HILARY BUT SO THAT WE CAN NOW SEE MORE OF THE BACK OF THE
RESEARCHER UP IN THE FOREGROUND..SAY THE HEAD AND SHOULDERS AS
SHE STANDS THERE FACING AWAY FROM US AND PATIENTLY READING THE
FORM TO HILARY. HILARY STANDS THERE WITH HER ARMS FOLDED
AGGRESSIVELY ACROSS HER CHEST, BUT THE EXPRESSION ON HER FACE IS
SOMEWHAT SOFTER THAN THE SCOWL WE SAW LAST PANEL, GAINING A
SLIGHTLY WISTFUL QUALITY AS SHE TALKS ABOUT HER CHILDREN (WHO,
YOU’LL REMEMBER, WE LAST SA MAKING MOLOTOV COCKTAILS IN ISSUE
TWO.) THE RESEARCHER, IF WE CAN SEE ANY OF HER FACE, LOOKS UP AT
HILARY WITH FEIGNED SIMPERING INTEREST AT HILARY’S MENTION OF
CHILDREN.
HILARY: Smashin’ kids: I’d all these empties, ready for the bottle bank, they
said “Don’t worry, Mum. We’ll take ‘em.”
RESEARCHER: They DIDN’T!
PANEL 6
WE CONTINUE TO PULL BACK SO THAT NOW WE SEE HILARY AND THE
RESEARCHER, BOTH ROUGHLY THREE QUARTER TO HALF FIGURE AS THEY
STAND THERE FRAMED BY HILARY’S FOUNT DOOR, THE RESEARCHER WITH
HER BACK SLIGHTLY TOWARDS US AND HILARY STANDING FACING US AND
THE RESEARCHER FROM HER DOORSTEP. THE RESEARCHER SIMPERS AS
HILARY CONTINUES TO BRAG MILDLY ABOUT HER CHILDREN.
HILARY: And her next door, they took her bottles too. AND Mr. Oldshaw’s,
down the street.
RESEARCHER: Aaa.
PANEL 7
SAME SHOT BUT WE PULL BACK STILL FURTHER SO THAT WE ARE NOW
SOME DISTANCE FROM HILARY’S FRONT DOOR, LOOKING BACK AT HER AND
THE RESEARCHER AS THEY STAND THERE, THE RESEARCHER IN HER RAIN
COAT AND HILARY IN HER SKIRT AND CARDIGAN. THE RESEARCHER IS A
FAIRLY SMART YOUNG WOMAN OF ABOUT TWENTY FIVE. SHE SMILES AT
HILARY AS SHE SPEAKS TO HER. HILARY’S FACE IS FLAT AND EXPRESSIONLESS
AS A NAIL HEAD AS SHE REPLIES.
RESEARCHER: They sound lovely. Now, would your family be VERY interested,
QUITE interested or NOT INTERESTED AT ALL in purchasing the following
items…
HILARY: No.
PANEL 8
SAME SHOT, BUT WE CONTINUE TO PULL BACK. WHEREAS IN OUR LAST
PICTURE WE COULD ONLY SEE A GLIMPSE OF THE IDENTICAL HOUSES
SURROUNDING HILARY’S, IN THIS PANEL WE HAVE PULLED BACK FAR
ENOUGH TO SEE A FEW MORE OF THEM. THEY STAND, IDENTICAL AND
HOMOGENEOUS, IN THEIR ORDERED ROWS, WITH HILARY STILL STANDING
FRAMED IN THE DOORWAY OF HER OWN HOME, FACE SET AND ARMS
FOLDED. THE RESEARCHER, STANDING FACING HILARY WITH HER BACK TO
US, LOOKS UP AT HILARY WITH AN EXPRESSION OF EXTREME PUZZLEMENT
ALTHOUGH WE’RE PROBABLY TOO FAR AWAY TO SEE EXPRESSIONS HERE.
THE FIGURES ARE BOTH VERY SMALL HERE, GRADUALLY BECOMING LOST IN
THE HOUSING ESTATE LANDSCAPE THAT SURROUNDS THEM.
RESEARCHER: No?
RESEARCHER: No what?
PANEL 9
NOW WE HAVE A WIDE, PANORAMIC SHOT WITH WHICH TO END THE PAGE
AND THE SCENE, STRETCHING THE PAGE’S FULL WIDTH. THE SHOT
CONCLUDES OUR GRADUAL PULL-BACK BY SHOWING A WIDE ANGLE VIEW
OF THE ESTATE IN ALL ITS MONOTONOUS AND OPPRESSIVE GLORY, WITH
THE CLONED HOUSES SPREADING OUT ALL AROUND LIKE ENVIRONMENTAL
CANCER. WE NEEDN’T EVEN BE ABLE TO SEE HILARY AND HER HOUSE HERE,
UNLESS YOU WANT TO SHOW THEM VERY SMALL. THE WAY I SEE IT, WE’VE
PULLED BACK SO FAR THAT WE JUST SEE A LONG SHOT OF THE ESTATE WITH
HILARY’S SOLITARY BALLOON ISSUING FROM SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE
OF IT, FLOATING WEIGHTLESSLY ABOVE THE DRAB COUNCIL HOMES BELOW.
HILARY (FROM ESTATE): No thank you.
PAGE 4
PANEL 1
THIS PAGE HAS TWELVE PANELS, AND WE CUT ACROSS TO A LOCAL
DEPARTMENT STORE, PROBABLY SOMEWHERE LIKE BOOTS THE CHEMISTS. THE
BASIC SHOT ONCE MORE REMAINS THE SAME FOR THE WHOLE PAGE, AND IS
SET UP AS FOLLOWS: WE ARE BEHIND THE COSMETICS COUNTER OF THE STORE,
LOOKING OUT ACROSS IT AT ROUGHLY COUNTER-TOP LEVEL. RIGHT UP IN THE
FOREGROUND WE SEE AN ARRAY OF COSMETICS STANDING UPON THE GLASS
COUNTER-TOP, INCLUDING SOME YARDLEY EYE-LINERS AND LIPSTICKS OVER TO
THE LEFT AND SOME EXPENSIVE LOOKING INDIVIDUAL COMPACTS OVER TO THE
RIGHT. THE STORE’S STRIP LIGHTING GLINTS ROMANTICALLY UPON THE GLASS
OF THE COUNTER AND THE SILVER CAPS OF THE VARIOUS COSMETICS. LOOKING
ACROSS THE COUNTER-TOP AND ACROSS THE CARPETED AISLE BEYOND WE
CAN SEE THE COMPUTER DEPARTMENT, PERHAPS WITH A HANGING SIGN THAT
READS COMPUTERS TO LABEL IT AS SUCH. PERHAPS THE FIGURE OF A MALE
ASSISTANT IS OCCASIONALLY SEEN DRIFTING ABOUT BEYOND THIS FAR
COUNTER, JUST DOING SOME MINOR TASK THAT IS TOO FAR AWAY HERE TO
PROPERLY DISCERN. THE COMPUTER COUNTER AND THE SOMETIMES-VISIBLE
MAN BEHIND IT ARE REALLY ONLY USED AS BACKGROUND DETAIL
THROUGHOUT THIS PAGE, BUT WE CLOSE IN UPON WHAT’S HAPPENING AT THE
COMPUTER COUNTER ON OUR NEXT PAGE, SO IT WOULD BE NICE TO ESTABLISH
THEM HERE BEFORE-HAND. IN THIS FIRST PANEL ALL WE SEE IS THE SCENE AS
DESCRIBED ABOVE, WITH THE COUNTER IN THE FOREGROUND, THE EMPTY
AISLE BEYOND THAT AND THEN THE COMPUTER COUNTER RIGHT IN THE
BACKGROUND WITH THE INDISTINCT FIGURE OF THE COMPUTER DEPARTMENT
MANAGER FUSSING ABOUT BEHIND IT. ALL THIS PANEL REALLY TELLS US IS THAT
WE’RE IN A STORE, AND THAT WE’RE IN THE COSMETICS DEPARTMENT.
No Dialogue
PANEL 2
SAME SHOT. IN THE FOREGROUND, THE COUNTER WITH ITS ARRAY OF
COSMETICS REMAINS UNDISTURBED. LOOKING PAST THIS AT THE AISLE
BEYOND WE NOW SEE THE RAIN-COATED FIGURE OF MONICA BEARD, THE
SHOP-LIFTER, AS SHE ENTERS FROM THE RIGHT OF THE PANEL. SHE WALKS
SLOWLY AND WEARILY, LIKE ANY OTHER SHOPPER, AND HER EXPRESSION IS,
AS USUAL, COMPLETELY DEADPAN. AS SHE SHUFFLES INTO THE PANEL FROM
THE RIGHT SHE SEEMS TO BE DIRECTING HER EXPRESSIONLESS GAZE
TOWARDS THE YARDLEY COSMETICS IN THE LEFT OF THE FOREGROUND.
BEYOND HER, IN THE BACKGROUND, WE PERHAPS SEE THE MANAGER
TURNING AND STARTING TO WALK OFF PANEL, AWAY ON SOME MINOR
ERRAND. WHATEVER LOOKS WORKABLE TO YOU, BASICALLY. HERE, THE
MAIN FOCUS IS UPON THE SUDDEN ARRIVAL OF MONICA ON THE SCENE,
ENTERING STAGE RIGHT AND GLANCING TOWARDS THE COSMETICS IN THE
LEFT OF THE FOREGROUND.
No Dialogue
PANEL 3
SAME SHOT, ONLY HERE, MONICA HAS DISCREETLY CROSSED TO THE
COUNTER IN THE FOREGROUND AND IS STANDING FACING US ACROSS ITS
LEFT-MOST SIDE. SHE LOOKS DOWN AT THE YARDLEY COSMETICS BEFORE
HER WITH SEEMING DISINTEREST UPON HER DEADPAN FACE. LOOKING
ACROSS THE AISLE BEHIND HER TOWARDS THE COMPUTER DEPARTMENT IN
THE BACKGROUND WE CAN PERHAPS JUST SEE THE BACK OF THE MANAGER
AS HE VANISHES OFF-PANEL RIGHT, AWAY ON HIS ERRAND. MONICA LOOKS
AT THE YARDLEY COSMETICS AND THEY GLINT RIGHT BACK AT HER.
No Dialogue
PANEL 4
SAME SHOT. IN THE BACKGROUND, THE COMPUTER DEPARTMENT
MANAGER IS NOW COMPLETELY OFF PANEL AND THUS NOT SEEN HERE. AS
IF TO CONFIRM THAT THERE IS NO-ONE WATCHING HER, MONICA GLANCES
ROUND TO ONE SIDE, LOOKING BACK SLIGHTLY OVER HER SHOULDER.
OTHERWISE, NEITHER HER POSITION NOR HER EXPRESSION CHANGE, AND
SHE REMAINS STANDING EXACTLY WHERE SHE WAS LAST PANEL WITH THE
SAME DEADPAN LOOK UPON HER FACE. ONE OF HER HANDS BEGINS TO
REACH CASUALLY OUT TOWARDS THE YARDLEY COSMETICS BEFORE HER.
No Dialogue
PANEL 5
SEEMINGLY SATISFIED THAT SHE IS NOT BEING WATCHED, MONICA RETURNS
HER GAZE TO THE JOB IN HAND. WITH ONE HAND SHE IS GATHERING UP ON
IMPRESSIVE FIST-FULL OF THE ASSEMBLED EYELINERS AND LIPSTICKS, SO
THAT THERE ARE ONLY A FEW LIPSTICKS REMAINING AND NO EYE-LINERS AT
ALL. WITH THE OTHER HAND, SHE STARTS TO PULL OPEN HER RAINCOAT, TO
FACILITATE TRANSFERRING THE COSMETICS TO AN INSIDE POCKET. SHE IS
UTTERLY ENGROSSED IN WHAT SHE IS DOING, AND HER EXPRESSION
REMAINS DEADPAN AND PROFESSIONAL. LOOKING PAST MONICA INTO THE
MID-GROUND, WE SEE THE FIGURE OF THE RENTBOY, KEVIN SORRY, AS HE
ENTERS FROM THE RIGHT HAND SIDE OF THE PANEL JUST AS MONICA DID
BACK IN PANEL TWO. ALTHOUGH MONICA HASN’T NOTICED KEVIN’S
ARRIVAL, KEVIN HAS NOTICED HER. HIS SHARP AND INTELLIGENT EYES
GLANCE ACROSS AT HER TURNED BACK, STUDYING HER SHREWDLY. MAYBE
KEVIN WALKS ALONG WITH HIS ARMS FOLDED IN FRONT OF HIM, TAKING
SMALL, QUICK STEPS, UNLESS THAT LOOKS WRONG TO YOU, IN WHICH CASE
JUST DEPICT HIS GAIT AS WHATEVER SEEMS NATURAL FOR THE CHARACTER
TO YOU. HERE, HE JUST GLANCES SHREWDLY ACROSS AT MONICA AS SHE
PREPARES TO POCKET THE COSMETICS.
No Dialogue
PANEL 6
SAME SHOT. TOWARDS THE LEFT OF THE FOREGROUND, ACROSS THE NOW
PARTIALLY-DENUDED COUNTER-TOP, WE SEE MONICA. KEEPING HER EYES
DOWNCAST AS SHE BECOMES AWARE OF THE PRESENCE STANDING NEXT TO
HER. MONICA IS SEEN HERE REMOVING HER NOW-EMPTY HAND FROM
INSIDE HER OPEN COAT. THE COSMETICS HAVE VANISHED. KEVIN SORRY HAS
BY NOW ALSO CROSSED TO THE COSMETICS COUNTER AND IS STANDING
NEXT TO MONICA. OVER TOWARDS THE RIGHT OF THE FOREGROUND. HIS
HEAD IS TURNED SLIGHTLY AND HE IS QUITE OPENLY WATCHING MONICA
WITH DISAPPROVAL AS SHE REMOVES HER HAND FROM HER COAT. MONICA
DOES NOT LOOK AT HIM, AND HER EXPRESSION REMAINS DEADPAN.
LOOKING PAST THEM AND INTO THE BACKGROUND WE CAN PERHAPS SEE
THE COMPUTER DEPARTMENT MANAGER RE-ENTERING THE PICTURE FROM
THE RIGHT, HIS ERRAND COMPLETED. THIS IS JUST BACKGROUND DETAIL,
HOWEVER, AND SHOULDN’T BE ALLOWED TO DETRACT FROM THE SILENT
INTERPLAY BETWEEN MONICA AND KEVIN IN THE FOREGROUND.
No Dialogue
PANEL 7
SAME SHOT. HERE, KEVIN IS NO LONGER LOOKING AT MONICA, ALTHOUGH
HE OTHERWISE IS STANDING BY THE COUNTER IN JUST THE SAME POSITION
AS HE WAS LAST PANEL. HERE, HE HAS SWITCHED HIS GAZE TO THE
EXPENSIVE LOOKING INDIVIDUAL COMPACTS ARRANGED BEFORE HIM ON
HIS SIDE OF THE COUNTER. HIS EXPRESSION IS ICY AND DISDAINFUL AND
SNOTTY. NEXT TO HIM, ON THE LEFT, MONICA HAS FINISHED POCKETING THE
MAKE-UP AND HAS SLOWLY TURNED HER HEAD TO LOOK AT KEVIN,
WITHOUT OTHERWISE CHANGING HER POSITION MUCH. AS SHE COLDLY
REGARDS THE RENTBOY HER EXPRESSION IS DEADPAN, FILLED WITH NO
MORE OR LESS DISDAIN THAN SHE OFFERS THE REST OF THE WORLD,
ALTHOUGH THAT’S GENERALLY QUITE SUFFICIENT. SHE LOOKS AT KEVIN
HERE, HER FEATURES MASK-LIKE, WHILE HE LOOKS AT THE COMPACTS,
PERHAPS ALREADY STARTING TO REACH HIS HAND OUT TOWARDS ONE IN
THE CASUAL AND OFF-HAND MANNER OF A CUSTOMER PICKING UP GOODS
TO INSPECT THEM BEFORE POSSIBLE PURCHASE. CONTEMPTUOUSLY, HE
IGNORES MONICA AS HE SPEAKS.
KEVIN: Tt.
KEVIN: I suppose that was the LAST of the Yardley eye-liner, was it?
PANEL 8
SAME SHOT. NOW MONICA HAS RETURNED HER GAZE TO THE COUNTER TOP
BEFORE HER AND IS NO LONGER LOOKING AT KEVIN. SHE RE-BUTTONS THE
TOP BUTTON OF HER COAT AS SHE SPEAKS, OTHERWISE IGNORING THE
YOUTH BESIDE HER. KEVIN, ON THE OTHER HAND, HAS TURNED HIS HEAD TO
GLANCE AT HER WITH SOME SURPRISE, THE HARDNESS AND DISLIKE IN HIS
FEATURES MELTING AWAY. ONE OF THE COMPACTS IS NESTLED IN HIS HAND,
HALF RAISED FROM THE COUNTER. LOOKING BEYOND THE PAIR, WE CAN
PERHAPS SEE THE SMALL FIGURE OF SAMMY PORTUS ENTER THE PANEL
FROM ONE SIDE. HE APPEARS TO BE HEADING IN THE GENERAL DIRECTION
OF THE COMPUTER DEPARTMENT AND DOES NOT SO MUCH AS GLANCE AT
THE COUPLE IN THE FOREGROUND, NOT THEY AT HIM.
MONICA: Y’wanna try the end of the counter. They’ve got Charles of The Ritz
down there.
PANEL 9
SAME SHOT. HERE, MONICA HAS TURNED AND IS STARTING TO WALK OFF
THE LEFT OF THE PANEL, UP IN THE FOREGROUND. PROBABLY HER FACE IS
ALREADY OFF PANEL HERE AND WE CAN ONLY SEE HER BACK AS SHE EXITS.
KEVIN SORRY, OVER TOWARDS THE RIGHT OF THE FOREGROUND, IS
LOOKING AT HER WITH A NEW LOOK OF RESPECT AND GRATITUDE AS SHE
LEAVES WITHOUT A BACKWARD GLANCE AT HIM. KEVIN, AS HE SPEAKS TO
MONICA, IS SLIPPING THE COMPACT INTO THIS COAT POCKET, APPARENTLY
WITHOUT BEING AWARE OF WHAT HE IS DOING..OR AT LEAST, NOT
BETRAYING THAT AWARENESS WITH ANY CHANGE OF EXPRESSION. HE
SEEMS GENUINELY GRATEFUL TO MONICA FOR THE INFORMATION AND
ANXIOUS TO MAKE UP FOR HIS EARLIER COLDNESS.
KEVIN: Ooh, well, thanks very much. I’ll try down there, then.
KEVIN: Thanks again.
MONICA: You’re welcome.
PANEL 10
SAME SHOT. ONLY HERE MONICA IS COMPLETELY OFF PANEL AND OUT OF
SIGHT. KEVIN, STILL STANDING TOWARDS THE RIGHT OF THE FOREGROUND
BUT TURNED SO AS TO FACE AFTER THE DEPARTED MONICA, STILL HAS THE
SAME CHIRPY AND GRATEFUL EXPRESSION ON HIS FACE AS HE RAISES ONE
HAND TO HIS MOUTH IN A PARTIAL-MEGAPHONE EFFECT, CALLING OUT
LIGHTLY AFTER MONICA AS SHE EXITS. LOOKING BEYOND HIM AND INTO THE
BACKGROUND WE CAN SE THAT SAMMY PORTUS HAS WALKED OVER TO THE
COMPUTER COUNTER. THE MANAGER, TURNED AWAY FROM THE COUNTER
TO DO SOMETHING BEHIND IT, ISN’T PAYING SAMMY ANY ATTENTION, JUST
AS SAMMY ISN’T PAYING ANY ATTENTION TO KEVIN, OVER IN THE
FOREGROUND.
KEVIN: Have a look in Dorothy PERKINS. They’ve got some GORGEOUS
blouses, and the store detective’s near-sighted.
PANEL 11
SAME SHOT. HERE, KEVIN EXITS OFF THE RIGHT OF THE FOREGROUND SO
THAT WE CAN ONLY SEE THE BACK OF HIM HERE AS HE WALKS OFF PANEL.
THE COUNTER, IN THE FOREGROUND, SEEMS TO HAVE MUCH LESS STUFF ON
IT THAN IT DID WHEN WE SAW IT IN IT’S VIRGIN STATE BACK IN PANEL ONE.
AS KEVIN WALKS OFF IN THE FOREGROUND WE LOOK ACROSS THE AISLE
TOWARDS THE COMPUTER DEPARTMENT, WHEN WE SEE SAMMY STILL
WAITING PATIENTLY FOR THE DEPARTMENT MANAGER..A MAN IN HIS
MIDDLE FORTIES, INCIDENTALLY, TO LOOK UP FROM WHATEVER HE IS
DOING. OTHERWISE, THE MAIN FOCUS OF OUR ATTENTION IS STILL KEVIN AS
HE WALKS OFF PANEL IN THE FOREGROUND.
No Dialogue
PANEL 12
SAME SHOT, BUT NOW THERE IS NOBODY IN THE FOREGROUND. KEVIN AND
MONICA HAVE BOTH GONE THEIR SEPARATE WAYS AND LEFT ONLY THE
PARTIALLY STRIPPED MAKE-UP COUNTER GLINTING PLAINTIVELY IN THE
FOREGROUND. LOOKING BEYOND THIS AND ACROSS THE AISLE WE SEE
SAMMY PORTUS JUST STANDING CALMLY BY THE COMPUTER COUNTER AND
WAITING. I SHOULD HAVE MENTIONED THIS BEFORE, BUT SAMMY IS
DRESSED HERE IN THE FAIRLY WILD AND LOOSE ACID HOUSE GEAR THAT HE
WEARS ON SATURDAYS RATHER THAN IN THE SCHOOL UNIFORM HE WEARS
DURING THE REST OF THE WEEK. THIS CONSISTS OF LONG, BRIGHT
PSYCHEDELIC SHORTS AND A SORT OF LOOSE, HOODED TOP WITH ETHNIC/
PAISLEY/MAYAN/PSYCHEDELIC PATTERNS ALL OVER IT. ON HIS FEET HE
WEARS BRIGHT SNEAKERS. I SHOULD ALSO HAVE MENTIONED THAT
BENEATH HIS ARM HE IS CARRYING THE BIZARRE, DECORATED SKATEBOARD
THAT WE’VE SEEN HIM WITH PREVIOUSLY. AS HE WAITS BY THE COMPUTER
COUNTER HE IS GAZING COOLEY AT THE MANAGER, WEIGHING HIM UP
EXPRESSIONLESSLY. FINALLY THE MANAGER LOOKS UP FROM WHATEVER
PETTY TASK HE’S BEEN ENGAGED IN BEHIND THE COUNTER AND GIVES
SAMMY A CONDESCENDING SMILE. WE MAY WELL SEE THIS MANAGER
AGAIN. ALTHOUGH HE ISN’T A FEATURED PLAYER IN THE WAY THAT OUR
OTHER CHARACTERS ARE. AS I SEE HIM, HE’S IN HIS MID FORTIES, PERHAPS
SLIGHTLY BALDING AT THE FRONT, AND IS PROBABLY QUITE A BIG, SOLID,
RED FACED KIND OF GUY WHO WILL SUCCUMB TO HEART DISEASE IN HIS
MIDDLE FIFTIES. HERE, DRESSED FOR WORK, HE WEARS A SOBER AND DARK
TIE AGAINST HIS PLAIN WHITE SHIRT, THE CUFFS OF WHICH ARE ROLLED UP
TO THE ELBOWS IN A BUSINESS-LIKE AND HARD WORKING FASHION.
LOOKING UP HE GIVES SAMMY A GRUFF, BARELY-PATIENT LOOK.
MANAGER: Yes, son, what can I do you for?
PAGE 5
PANEL 1
OKAY, NOW THERE ARE TWELVE PANELS ON THIS PAGE, WITH THIS FIRST TIER
BEING A CONTINUOUS BACKGROUND SHOT. I SHOULD POINT OUT BEFORE
WE GET TOO FAR IN THAT THIS PAGE REQUIRES SOME TECHNICAL
INFORMATION AND POSSIBLY SOME VISUAL REFERENCE THAT WILL HAVE TO
WAIT UNTIL I CAN CONTACT THE GUY I KNOW WHO WORKS IN A COMPUTER
SHOP. WHAT I’VE DONE, THEREFORE, IS TO MAP OUT WHAT THE PANELS
WILL LOOK LIKE GENERALLY, LEAVING THE FEW FINE VISUAL DETAILS UNTIL
WE CAN GET THE PROPER INFORMATION. THE RELEVANT DIALOGUE I’VE
LEFT BLANK, BUT I’LL INCLUDE PROVISIONAL DIALOGUE IN WITH THE PANEL
DESCRIPTIONS SO THAT YOU AT LEAST KNOW ROUGHLY WHAT THE
CHARACTERS ARE SAYING AND SO THAT YOU CAN GIVE THEM APPROPRIATE
FACIAL EXPRESSIONS. OKAY THEN..IN THIS FIRS TIER WE HAVE CLOSED IN
UPON THE COUNTER OF THE COMPUTER DEPARTMENT THAT WE SAW A
LITTLE OF IN THE BACKGROUND ON OUR LAST PAGE. THE COUNTER HERE
RUNS FROM LEFT TO RIGHT FOR ALMOST THE FULL WIDTH OF THIS
CONTINUOUS-BACKGROUND TIER, WITH THE LEFT-MOST END OF IT OVER IN
PANEL ONE AND THE RIGHT-MOST END OVER IN PANEL FOUR. WE SEE THE
GLASS COUNTER/DISPLAY-CASE WITH VARIOUS SMALL COMPUTER-RELATED
GOODS DISPLAYED INSIDE IT. BEHIND THE COUNTER THERE ARE SHELVES
UPON WHICH STAND VARIOUS LARGER PIECES OF COMPUTER HARDWARE,
EITHER IN THEIR LABELED CARDBOARD BOXES OR UNPACKED FOR DISPLAY
PURPOSES…PROBABLY A MIXTURE OF BOTH WOULD BE MOST REALISTIC.
OVER IN THIS FIRST PANEL, STANDING IN THE FOREGROUND BETWEEN US
AND THE GLASS COUNTER WE SEE SAMMY. HE STANDS THERE IN HIS EYE-
BRUISING GARB, LOOKING TOTALLY COOL AND RELAXED AND DIGNIFIED
WITH HIS SKATEBOARD BENEATH HIS ARM. HE IS FACING SLIGHTLY AWAY
FROM US SO THAT WE SEE HIM ROUGHLY HALF-PROFILE AS HE GAZES
TOWARDS THE MANAGER WHO WE SEE BEHIND THE COUNTER. THE
MANAGER, BULKY AND FLORID IN HIS SHIRT-SLEEVES, IS NOT LOOKING AT
SAMMY AS THE BOY SPEAKS, BUT IS CONCENTRATING UPON PICKING UP A
LARGE AND HI-TECH PIECE OF COMPUTER HARDWARE (THIS IS WHERE THE
VAGUENESS COMES IN, AS I DON’T YET KNOW WHICH PIECE OF COMPUTER
HARDWARE THE MANAGER IS PICKING UP) FROM THE SHELVES
IMMEDIATELY BEHIND HIM. HE GRUNTS A LITTLE WITH THE EXERTION AND
GENERALLY LOOKS SORT OF BAD TEMPERED AND HARASSED, AS IF THERE
ARE THINGS HE’D MUCH RATHER BE DOING ON A SATURDAY MORNING
THAN HUMPING BITS OF COMPUTERS ABOUT. SAMMY SEEMS TOTALLY
UNRUFFLED BY THE MAN’S DEMEANOR.
SAMMY: Well, it’s more what I can do for YOU.
SAMMY: I wondered if you had any Saturday jobs going?
PANEL 2
NOW WE PAN ACROSS OUR CONTINUOUS BACKGROUND FROM LEFT TO
RIGHT, FOLLOWING THE MANAGER AS HE RUDELY TURNS HIS BACK UPON
THE MOTIONLESS SAMMY, AND STARTS TO CARRY THE PIECE OF COMPUTER
HARDWARE ALONG FROM LEFT TO RIGHT BEHIND THE COUNTER TOWARDS
THE OTHER END, OVER IN PANEL FOUR. SAMMY, WHO REMAINS STATIONARY
BACK IN PANEL ONE, IS NOT VISIBLE HERE. ALL WE SEE HERE IS THE GLASS
COUNTER-CUM-SHOWCASE UP TOWARDS THE FOREGROUND AND THEN
THE MANAGER IN PROFILE BEHIND IT AS HE WALKS FROM LEFT TO RIGHT
ACROSS THE TIER, AWKWARDLY HOLDING THE BULKY PIECE OF HARDWARE
IN FRONT OF HIM AS HE DOES SO. HIS FACE ASSUMES A SORT OF SNOTTY
AND INDIFFERENT LOOK..THE EYELIDS ARE LOWERED CONDESCENDINGLY,
THE NOSE IS TILTED UPWARDS DISMISSIVELY AND THE LIPS HAVE A SLIGHTLY
PURSED AND SNOBBISH LOOK TO THEM AS THEY FORM AROUND THE
WORDS THAT THE MANAGER IS SAYING. HE SPEAKS WITHOUT SPARING
SAMMY A BACKWARD GLANCE, CARRYING ON WITH HIS WORK HUMPING
THE COMPUTER PARTS AROUND.
MANAGER: Job? What ARE you, thirteen? Fourteen?
MANAGER: Nah. I need somebody older, who could pull their weight.
PANEL 3
WE CONTINUE TO TRACK ACROSS NOW, FOLLOWING THE MANAGER AS HE
PROGRESSES FROM LEFT TO RIGHT ACROSS OUR CONTINUOUS
BACKGROUND, STILL WITH THE GLINTING GLASS COUNTER BETWEEN HIM
AND US. HE STILL DOES NOT LOOK BACK AT SAMMY AS HE TRUDGES ALONG
BEHIND THE COUNTER, CARRYING HIS CHUNK OF HARDWARE, WHICH HE
SEEMS TO BE ABOUT TO PUT DOWN UPON A SECTION OF GLASS COUNTER
OVER TOWARDS THE RIGHT OF THE PAGE IN PANEL FOUR. HIS FACE STILL
WEARS THE SAME DISMISSIVE EXPRESSION, COLOURED BY HIS GENERAL
LOOK OF OVER-WORKED HARASSMENT.
MANAGER: Besides, I can’t waste time training somebody up.
MANAGER: I need somebody who could SAVE me time.
PANEL 4
WE COMPLETE OUR PAN ACROSS NOW, AND SHOW THE MANAGER
STANDING STILL AT THE RIGHT MOST END OF THE COUNTER AS HE
ATTEMPTS TO CONNECT THE PIECE OF HARDWARE THAT HE HAS BEEN
CARRYING WITH ANOTHER PIECE OF HARDWARE THAT IS ALREADY SITUATED
AT THE COUNTER’S RIGHT-MOST END. LIKE I SAY, I DON’T KNOW WHAT PIECE
HE’S CONNECTING TO WHAT, OR HOW HE’S CONNECTING IT, BUT WHATEVER
HE’S DOING HIS BASIC POSTURE AND EXPRESSION HERE IS THE SAME: AS HE
FUMBLES CLUMSILY WITH THE CONNECTION OF THE TWO PIECES OF
HARDWARE HE SORT OF FREEZES, PAUSING SIGNIFICANTLY IN THE MIDST OF
WHAT HE IS DOING AS HE HEARS SAMMY SPEAK FROM OFF PANEL TO THE
LEFT BEHIND HIM. HIS EYES WIDEN SLIGHTLY IN AFFRONT AND SURPRISE
AND HE SEEMS TO SWIVEL THEM BACK AS IF IN A FUTILE ATTEMPT TO
GLANCE BACK OVER HIS SHOULDER AT THE SOURCE OF THE SUDDEN VOICE
FROM BEHIND HIM. SAMMY’S BALLOON ISSUES FROM OFF PANEL LEFT,
WITH SAMMY HIMSELF NOT VISIBLE.
SAMMY (OFF, LEFT): You’re setting that up wrong.
PANEL 5
THIS SECOND TIER HAS FOUR SEPARATE PANELS THAT ARE ALL SHOT FROM
THE SAME ANGLE: WE ARE NOW DOWN AT THE MANAGER’S END OF THE
COUNTER, BEHIND THE COUNTER WITH HIM AND LOOKING ACROSS AND
ALONG THE LENGTH OF THE COUNTER TOWARDS SAMMY, AS HE STANDS
OVER THE SIDE OF THE COUNTER AT THE END FURTHEST AWAY FROM US. UP
TO THE RIGHT OF THE FOREGROUND WE SEE THE MOTIONLESS BULK OF THE
MANAGER (OR AT LEAST PART OF IT) AS HE TURNS TO LOOK INCREDULOUSLY
AT SAMMY, WHO IS OVER TOWARDS THE LEFT OF THE NEAR BACKGROUND
ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COUNTER’S FAR END. TO THE LEFT OF THE
FOREGROUND, RESTING ON THE GLASS COUNTER-TO BEFORE THE
MANAGER WE SEE AT LEAST PART OF THE TWO COMPUTER UNITS THAT HE
IS TRYING TO CONNECT TOGETHER. LOOKING BEYOND THIS, AS WE SEE
SAMMY HERE HE IS LOOKING TOWARDS US, STILL WITH THE SAME COOL
AND DIGNIFIED EXPRESSION DESPITE HIS RIOTOUS CLOTHING. HE IS JUST
PROPPING HIS SKATEBOARD AGAINST THE COUNTER HERE, PREPARING TO
COME DOWN TO OUR END OF THE COUNTER AND SHOW THE MANAGER
HOW TO FIT HIS COMPUTER UNITS TOGETHER. UP IN THE FOREGROUND WE
NEED ONLY SEE A LITTLE OF THE MANAGER AS HE FACES ROUGHLY AWAY
FROM US..JUST HIS SHOULDER OR A LITTLE OF THE BACK OF HIS HEAD OR
SOMETHING. HE DOES NOT MOVE THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE FOUR PANEL
SEQUENCE, AND OUR ATTENTION MOVES PAST HIM TO THE MOVING FIGURE
OF SAMMY, FURTHER INTO THE PANEL. I’VE LEFT SAMMY’S BALLOONS
BLANK BELOW, BUT A ROUGH APPROXIMATION OF WHAT HE IS SAYING
COULD BE CONTAINED IN TWO SPEECH BALLOONS, THE FIRST READING
“EASY MISTAKE TO MAKE. THAT’S THE AMSTRAD 1512, ISN’T IT? ONLY OUT A
COUPLE OF WEEKS?” AND THEN A SMALLER SECOND BALLOON LINKED TO
THE FIRST THAT READS “FUNNY MODEL.” THIS IS APPROXIMATELY WHAT
SAMMY IS SAYING AS HE PROPS HIS SKATEBOARD UP AGAINST HIS SIDE OF
THE GLASS COUNTER, LOOKING TOWARDS US AND THE HARDWARE THAT
RESTS ON THE COUNTER IN THE FOREGROUND AS HE DOES SO.
SAMMY:
SAMMY:
PANEL 6
SAME SHOT AS PANEL FIVE, BUT NOW SAMMY HAS STARTED TO WALK
DOWN THE LENGTH OF THE COUNTER TOWARDS US, LEAVING THE
SKATEBOARD PROPPED UP AGAINST THE FAR END WHERE WE SAW HIM
PROP IT LAST PANEL. AS HE WALKS TOWARDS US HE REMAINS CALM AND
WITHOUT A TRACE OF ARROGANCE. WITH ONE FINGER HE POINTS
TOWARDS A CONNECTING POINT UPON ONE SIDE OF ONE OF THE
COMPONENTS AND SAYS SOMETHING ALONG THE FOLLOWING LINES:
“Y’SEE, WITH THESE, THE CONNECTION FOR THE MODEM IS OVER THERE,
NEAR THE MOUSE.” I KNOW THIS IS GIBBERISH, BUT I’LL BE ABLE TO REPLACE
IT WITH MORE ACCURATE AND AUTHENTIC COMPUTER REFERENCES ONE
I’VE TALKED TO THE NECESSARY PEOPLE. THE ABOVE SHOULD GIVE YOU THE
ROUGH FLAVOUR OF THE EXCHANGE THOUGH, AT LEAST FOR THE MOMENT.
AS SAMMY COMES TOWARDS US, THE BULK OF THE MANGER, PARTLY
VISIBLE TO THE RIGHT OF THE FOREGROUND, DOES NOT MOVE AT ALL. NOR
DO THE COMPUTER PARTS THAT SAMMY IS POINTING AT, RESTING ON THE
COUNTER-TOP TO THE LEFT OF THE FOREGROUND IN FRONT OF THE
MANAGER.
SAMMY:
PANEL 7
SAME SHOT, WITH THE MANAGER AND THE COMPUTER PARTS STILL
UNMOVED UP IN THE FOREGROUND. FROM THE BACKGROUND SAMMY HAS
WALKED RIGHT UP CLOSE TO US SO THAT HE’S NOW ONLY ON THE OTHER
SIDE OF THE COUNTER. WITHOUT ASKING FOR PERMISSION HE REACHES
OUT AND STARTS TO CONNECT UP THE TWO PIECES OF HARDWARE IN A
DIFFERENT WAY TO THAT ATTEMPTED BY THE LESS-ADEPT MANAGER. AS HE
DOES THIS HE REMAINS TOTALLY COOL AND COMPOSED, AND DOES NOT
GIVE THE IMPRESSION OF BRAGGING OR SHOWING OFF. HIS DELIVERY IS
VERY PLEASANT, INFORMATIVE AND MATTER OF FACT. THE MANAGER JUST
STANDS MOTIONLESS, WATCHING HIM, AND MAKING NO MOVE TO
INTERFERE. SAMMY HAS TWO BALLOONS IN THIS PANEL, WITH THE FIRST
READING SOMETHING AS FOLLOWS: “IT’S TO MAKE ROOM FOR THE SECOND
DRIVE, WHICH IS A NEW FEATURE.” THE SECOND BALLOON READS “YOU JUST
CONNECT IT LIKE THIS…AND LIKE THIS…” HE IS LOOKING DOWN AT WHAT HIS
HANDS ARE DOING AS HE SPEAKS, RATHER THAN UP AT THE MANAGER.
SAMMY:
SAMMY:
PANEL 8
SAME SHOT. IN THE RIGHT OF THE FOREGROUND THE MANAGER’S PARTLY
VISIBLE FORM HAS NOT MOVES, STILL FACING MOSTLY AWAY FROM US AND
ACROSS THE COUNTER AT SAMMY. UPON THE COUNTER TOP TO THE LEFT OF
THE FOREGROUND, THE TWO PIECES OF HARDWARE ARE NOW CORRECTLY
AND EFFICIENTLY FASTENED TOGETHER. LOOKING BEYOND THIS WE SEE
SAMMY. HAVING FINISHED CONNECTING THE PIECES OF HARDWARE HE
LOOKS UP AT THE MANAGER AND SMILES WARMLY, GESTURING TO THE
CONNECTED COMPUTER COMPONENTS AS HE DOES SO. THE MANAGER
DOESN’T MOVE OR RESPOND IN ANY WAY.
SAMMY: There.
PANEL 9
NOW WE CHANGE ANGLES, SO THAT WE ARE OVER ON SAMMY’S SIDE OF
THE COUNTER NOW. WE SEE PART OF SAMMY OVER TO THE LEFT OF THE
FOREGROUND AS HE STANDS THERE FROM BEFORE THE COUNTER. I FIGURE
WE ONLY SEE A LITTLE OF HIS MID SECTION, AS IF WE WERE LOOKING UP
PAST HIM SLIGHTLY FROM A SLIGHTLY DEPRESSED ANGLE. WE CERTAINLY
CAN’T SEE HIS HEAD OR SHOULDERS HERE. OUR ATTENTION IS FIXED UPON
THE BULKY MANAGER AS HE LEANS UPON HIS COUNTER TOP WITH THE
SUCCESSFULLY CONNECTED COMPUTER PARTS BEFORE HIM. MAYBE HE
LEANS ON THE COUNTER WITH HIS BEEFY ARMS FOLDED, AND HIS
EXPRESSION IS SET INTO A BELLIGERENT SCOWL OR GLARE OF RESENTMENT
AS HE STARES ACROSS THE COUNTER TO THE POINT OFF PANEL ABOVE
WHERE SAMMY’S HEAD AND SHOULDERS ARE PRESUMABLY SITUATED. HE
DOESN’T LOOK AT ALL PLEASED WITH SAMMY’S PERFORMANCE. NEITHER HE
NOR THE PARTLY VISIBLE SAMMY IN THE FOREGROUND MOVE EVEN
SLIGHTLY. NOBODY SAYS ANYTHING.
No Dialogue
PANEL 10
SAME SHOT EXACTLY AS PANEL NINE: NOTHING HAS MOVED. SAMMY IS
STILL PARTLY VISIBLE UP TO THE LEFT OF THE FOREGROUND AND WE ARE
STILL LOOKING PAST HIM AT THE MANAGER AS HE GLOWERS AT US ACROSS
HIS COUNTER TOP, HIS BURLY ARMS FOLDED RESENTFULLY AND HIS FACE SET
INTO A SCOWL. THE ONLY SLIGHT DIFFERENCE HERE IS THAT THE
MANAGER’S SCOWLING AND RESENTFUL MOUTH IS HERE OPEN SLIGHTLY AS
HE SPEAKS. OTHER THAN THIS NEITHER HE NOR SAMMY MOVE A MUSCLE.
MANAGER: You can start next Saturday.
MANAGER: Only for Christ’s sake smarten yourself up!
PANEL 11
SAME SHOT, WITH SAMMY REMAINING MOTIONLESS IN THE FOREGROUND.
THE MANAGER, VISIBLE ACROSS THE COUNTER TOP, HAS MOVED ONLY
SLIGHTLY: HE IS NOW LOOKING DOWN WITH A WARY AND SUSPICIOUS
SCOWL AT THE LINKED PIECES OF HARDWARE IN FRONT OF HIM, PRODDING
AND POKING AT THE CONNECTIONS PERHAPS TO SEE IF THEY’RE LOOSE OR
PERHAPS TO WORK OUT HOW SAMMY DID THEM. HE IS GLARING AT THE
MACHINERY RATHER THAN AT SAMMY AS HE SPEAKS, LOOKING GRUDGING
AND SURLY. SAMMY DOESN’T MOVE OR SPEAK.
MANAGER: And think yourself LUCKY. It’s only because we’ll need staff for
that American shopping centre.
MANAGER: We’re opening a branch there.
PANEL 12
NOW ALL WE HAVE IS A HEAD AND SHOULDERS CLOSE UP OF SAMMY AS HE
REPLIES TO THE MANAGER. HIS FACE IS UTTERLY DEADPAN AND
EXPRESSIONLESS…SO MUCH SO, IN FACT, THAT THE READER WILL KNOW
THAT SAMMY IS LYING. HIS EYES HAVE A SORT OF LIDDED AND SECRETIVE
AND SHREWD LOOK IN THEM AS HE REPLIES TO THE OFF PANEL MANAGER.
SAMMY: Really?
SAMMY: I had no idea.
PAGE 6
PANEL 1
THERE ARE NINE PANELS ON THIS PAGE, AND THIS FIRST ONE IS A BIG WIDE
ONE THAT RUNS THE FULL WIDTH OF THE UPPER TIER. WHAT WE SEE IS A
GLORIOUSLY HAPPY AND EXHILARATED SHOT OF SAMMY AS HE SKATES
HOME DOWN THE ROLLING, SLOPING PATH THAT RUNS THROUGH THE PARK.
STANDING UPON HIS MOVING BOARD HE LOOKS HAPPY AND GRACEFUL,
ARMS SPREAD OUT FOR BALANCE AND A BIG WIDE GRIN ON HIS FACE. HE’S
ALMOST DANCING WITH DELIGHT UPON HIS BOARD AS IT MOVES. LOOKING
BEYOND HIM AND UP THE PATH A LITTLE WE CAN SEE THAT HE HAS JUST
PASSED BETWEEN A COUPLE OF VAGUELY SURPRISED AND STARTLED-
LOOKING PENSIONERS WHO LOOK AROUND AT US AND AT SAMMY AS HE
ZIPS BY THEM. UPON THEIR FACES THERE ARE STILL VAGUE EXPRESSIONS OF
MILD ALARM, BUT SAMMY DOESN’T APPEAR TO PAY THEM ANY ATTENTION,
WRAPPED UP IN HIS OWN WORLD OF SPEED AND EXUBERANCE. AROUND
THE PATHWAY THAT RUNS FROM BACKGROUND TO FOREGROUND THE PARK
STRETCHES AWAY TO EITHER SIDE WITH ITS ROLLING AREAS OF GRASS AND
ITS ELDERLY ROWS OF TREES GATHERED ABOUT THE PARK’S EDGES.
No Dialogue
PANEL 2
THIS SECOND TIER IS A CONTINUOUS BACKGROUND SHOT DIVIDED UP INTO
FOUR PANELS. WE CUT TO THE INTERIOR OF SAMMY AND HEALDIE’S HOUSE
NOW, TO SHOW SAMMY AS HE ARRIVES HOME WITH HIS SKATEBOARD NOW
TUCKED BENEATH HIS ARM. TAKEN AS A WHOLE, THIS CONTINUOUS
BACKGROUND TIER SHOWS US A WIDE-ANGLE VIEW OF THE PORTUS FAMILY
LIVING ROOM, WITH SAMMY JUST BURSTING THROUGH THE DOOR OVER
ON THE LEFT IN THIS FIRST PANEL OF THE TIER. AS HE BARGES INTO THE
ROOM SAMMY LOOKS HAPPY AND UNCHARACTERISTICALLY EXCITED, HIS
BRIGHT SKATEBOARD TUCKED BENEATH HIS ARM. THE ROOM, AS USUAL, IS
FAIRLY DARK AND GLOOMY, TO FIT THE MOOD OF SAMMY’S FATHER, WHO
WE CAN’T SEE IN THIS PANEL. SAMMY IS ADDRESSING HIS COMMENTS TO A
POINT OVER IN PANEL FIVE, AT THE OTHER END OF THE TIER, WHERE
HEALDIE IS SITUATED.
SAMMY: Dad? Hey, guess what?
SAMMY: I got a Saturday job, in Berringham’s computer department.
PANEL 3
TRACKING ACROSS NOW, WE FOLLOW SAMMY AS HE TAKES A COUPLE OF
PACES INTO THE ROOM, BOARD STILL BENEATH HIS ARM, AND THEN STOPS
IN HIS TRACKS. THE HAPPY AND EXUBERATE LOOK FADES FROM HIS FACE AS
HE REALIZES THAT THERE IS SOMETHING UPSETTING HIS FATHER, WHO IS
STILL OFF PANEL RIGHT AND NOT VISIBLE HERE. HEALDIE’S BALLOON ISSUES
INTO THE PANEL FROM OFF-PIC ON THE RIGHT HAND SIDE.
SAMMY: They’re opening a new premises soon, at the..
SAMMY: What’s the matter?
HEALDIE (OFF): Aa, it’s just dis letter a got…
PANEL 4
WE TRACK ACROSS STILL FURTHER TOWARDS THE RIGHT AS SAMMY TAKES A
COUPLE MORE UNCERTAIN STEPS, FURTHER INTO THE ROOM. AS WE SEE
HIM HEAR HE IS JUST PROPPING HIS SKATEBOARD UP AGAINST THE WALL OR
THE TABLE OR SOMETHING. AS HE DOES SO HE IS LOOKING ROUND
TOWARDS THE FOREGROUND, WHERE WE SEE ONE OF HEALDIE’S BIG BLACK
HANDS REACHING INTO VIEW FROM OFF PANEL RIGHT, HOLDING A SHEET
OF COUNCIL-HEADED PAPER UPON WHICH A LETTER APPEARS TO HAVE
BEEN NEATLY TYPED. AS SAMMY PROPS UP HIS BOARD HE LOOKS ROUND IN
PUZZLEMENT AT WHAT HEALDIE IS HOLDING, UNCERTAIN WHY IT SHOULD
UPSET HIS FATHER SO. HEALDIE’S BALLOON STILL ISSUES FROM OFF PANEL
RIGHT.
HEALDIE (OFF, RIGHT): De Social Services, dey found me a new social worker.
Dey comin’ here in t’ree weeks time..
PANEL 5
COMPLETING OUR PAN ACROSS, WE FINALLY COME TO REST ON HEALDIE AS
HE SITS THERE MOTIONLESS AND DEPRESSED IN HIS BAGGY ARMCHAIR. I
KNOW HEALDIE ALWAYS LOOKS DEPRESSED WHEN WE SEE HIM, BUT HERE
HE LOOKS ANXIOUS AS WELL, ALMOST SWEATING WITH WORRY AT THE
PROSPECT THE LETTER HAS ALERTED HIM TO. FRANKLY, AS HE SPEAKS TO HIS
OFF PANEL SON, HE LOOKS SCARED SHITLESS. SAMMY IS NOT VISIBLE HERE,
BEING OFF PANEL TO THE LEFT OVER IN PANEL FOUR. THIS IS WHERE
HEALDIE’S GAZE AND DIALOGUE ARE DIRECTED AS HE SPEAKS.
HEALDIE: It’s a woman.
PANEL 6
THIS NEXT FOUR PANEL SEQUENCE IS SORT OF A GRADUAL CLOSE-IN UPON
SAMMY. IN THIS FIRST PANEL WE SEE BOTH HEALDIE AND SAMMY. HEALDIE,
RISING AGITATEDLY FROM HIS CHAIR, IS SLIGHTLY CLOSER TO US HERE THAN
SAMMY, WHO WE SEE FULL FIGURE IN THE NEAR BACKGROUND, STARING
WITH A SYMPATHETIC GAZE AT HIS FATHER. HEALDIE, RISING FROM HIS
CHAIR, IS STILL CLUTCHING THE ACCURSED LETTER FROM THE SOCIAL
SERVICES IN HIS SUDDENLY-CLAMMY HAND, AND HIS EYES ARE STARTING OT
TAKE ON A WILD, TRAPPED, FRIGHTENED LOOK. HE LOKS NEAR TO TEARS,
BARELY ABLE TO LOOK AT SAMMY AS HE SPEAKS AND TALKING DOWN AT
THE FLOOR INSTEAD. SAMMY WATCHES HIS FATHER, PITYINGLY AND WITH
REAL CONCERN.
HEALDIE: Aa, Sammy, I don’t know what am gonna do.
HEALDIE: A can’t talk to no woman; A get meself embarrassed..
PANEL 7
NOW WE START TO CLOSE IN UPON THE PAIR, SO THAT HEALDIE IS ABOUT
HALF FIGURE IN THE FOREGROUND AND SO THAT SAMMY IS ABOUT THREE
QUARTER FIGURE IN THE BACK GROUND AS HE STANDS THERE STARTING
SYMPATHETICALLY TOWARDS BOTH US AND HIS FATHER. HEALDIE, NEARER
TO US, HAS TURNED AWAY FROM SAMMY AS HE BEGINS TO PACE UP AND
DOWN, WAVING THE LETTER IN HIS HAND AGITATEDLY TO UNDERLINE THE
POINT HE IS INARTICULATELY TRYING TO MAKE. SAMMY JUST LOOKS ON
FROM THE BACKGROUND, FULL OF SYMPATHY AND UNDERSTANDING FOR
HIS FATHER’S CONDITION.
HEALDIE: It’s like, since y’Mam passed away…
HEALDIE (SEPARATE BALLOON): A mean, LOOK at de place! A can’t ‘ave
nobody ‘ere…
PANEL 8
CLOSE IN STILL FURTHER, SO THAT NOW ALL WE CAN SEE OF HEALDIE IS ONE
OF HIS HANDS ENTERING THE PANEL FROM THE RIGHT OF THE
FOREGROUND, STILL WAVING THE LETTER FROM THE SOCIAL SERVICES. HIS
BALLOONS ISSUE FROM OFF PANEL RIGHT. LOOKING PAS HIS HAND AND THE
WAVING PIECE OF PAPER WE SEE SAMMY AS HE STAND THERE, HIS EYES
FULL OF SYMPATHY BUT HIS FACE OTHERWISE EXPRESSIONLESS. WE HAVE
CLOSED IN UPON SAMMY SO THAT HE IS ROUGHLY HALF FIGURE HERE. HE
STANDS WITH HIS EYES FIXED UPON THE PIECE OF PAPER THAT HIS FATHER IS
WAVING IN THE FOREGROUND.
HEALDIE (OFF, RIGHT): A don’t WANT nobody ‘ere! Nobody but y’Mam, an’
she’s...
HEALDIE (OFF, RIGHT): Aa, a wish a’d not opened dis bloody t’ing.
PANEL 9
IN THIS LAST PANEL WE HAVE CLOSED RIGHT PAST HEALDIE’S
OUTSTRETCHED HAND AT THE PIECE OF PAPER TO COME TO REST UPON
SAMMY IN A HEAD AND SHOULDERS SHOT AS HE STANDS FACING US,
GAZING AT HIS OFF PANEL FATHER. ALTHOUGH THERE IS SYMPATHY AND
CONCERN IN HIS EYES HIS FACE IS OTHERWISE CALM AND EXPRESSIONLESS
AS HE SPEAKS.
SAMMY: Dad?
SAMMY: Did you ever hear of the second-and-a-half dimension?
PAGE 7
PANEL 1
THIS PAGE ALSO HAS NINE PANELS, AGAIN WITH A BIG WIDE ONE TAKING UP
THE TOP TIER AND THEN FOUR PANELS ON EACH OF THE TWO TIERS
BENEATH THAT. IN THIS FIRST WIDE PANEL WE HAVE A FAIRLY SIMPLE AND
STRAIGHTFORWARD SHOT OF HEALDIE AND SAMMY, WITH A WIDE-ANGLE
VIEW OF THEIR GLOOMY FRONT ROOM STRETCHING OUT AROUND THEM IN
THE BACKGROUND. HEALDIE, MORE TO THE LEFT HERE AND FACING RIGHT,
IS HOLDING UP ONE HAND IN PROTEST AND FROWNING IN
CONSTERNATION. IN THE OTHER HAND, HE STILL HOLDS THE LETTER.
SAMMY HAS ALSO TAKEN HOLD OF THIS LETTER AND IS ATTEMPTING, NOT
WITHOUT SUCCESS, TO WREST IT FROM HIS FATHER. WITH THE HAND THAT
ISN’T HOLDING THE LETTER, SAMMY IS GENTLY PRYING HIS FATHER’S
FINGERS LOOSE FROM THEIR GRIP UPON THE PAGE. SAMMY IS SMILING
QUIETLY AND REASSURINGLY AS HE DOES THIS, EFFORTLESSLY DEFLECTING
HIS FATHER’S PROTESTS WITH SHEER CHARM.
HEALDIE: Aa, c’mon, you know am not up to your mathematics an’ your
figurin’. A got too much to t’ink about at de moment…
SAMMY: Aah, come on, it’s EASY.
SAMMY: Look, gimme that letter and I’ll send it into the second-and-a-half
dimension for you.
PANEL 2
THIS SECOND TIER HAS FOUR PANELS THAT ALL HAVE THE SAME
COMPOSITION AND ARE SHOT FROM THE SAME ANGLE. WHAT WE SEE,
BASICALLY, IS A HALF TO THREE QUARTER FIGURE SHOT OF SAMMY AND
HEALDIE, WITH HEALDIE SLIGHTLY CLOSER TO US AND MORE TOWARDS THE
LEFT OF THE PANEL, FACING SLIGHTLY AWAY FROM US AT ANGLE TOWARDS
SAMMY, WHO IS JUST SLIGHTLY FURTHER AWAY AND FACING US FROM OVER
TO THE RIGHT OF THE PANEL. HERE, WITH THE CALM AND PROFESSIONAL
EXPRESSION OF A STAGE CONJURER, SAMMY HOLDS UP THE FLAT SHEET OF
PAPER FOR HIS FATHER’S INSPECTION, HOLDING IT BY BOTH EDGES AS IF TO
DEMONSTRATE ITS PERFECT FLATNESS. HEALDIE JUST STARES DOWN AT THE
PAPER WITH AN ALMOST COMICAL LOOK OF BLANK INCOMPREHENSION
UPON HIS FEATURES. HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL SAMMY IS
TALKING ABOUT, BUT THE VERY STRANGENESS OF SAMMY’S STATEMENT
SEEMS TO HAVE TAKEN HEALDIE’S MIND OFF THE IMPENDING VISIT FROM A
WOMAN SOCIAL WORKER THAT HE WAS SO ALARMED ABOUT A FEW PANELS
AGO. SAMMY, COOL AND UNRUFFLED, LAUNCHES INTO HIS FRACTAL SPIEL.
SAMMY: Now, this sheet of paper’s got LENGTH and WIDTH, but no
THICKNESS. So we say it’s TWO DIMENSIONAL, right?
PANEL 3
SAME SHOT. NOW, STILL WITH THE SAME CALM AND UNRUFFLED
EXPRESSION, SAMMY STARTS TO CRUMPLE THE PRISTINE SHEET OF PAPER
UP INTO A BALL. HEALDIE WATCHES HIM DO THIS, STILL WITH THE SAME
LOOK OF ABSOLUTE BLANK BEWILDERMENT UPON HIS FEATURES. I FIGURE
HEALDIE REMAINS MORE OR LESS MOTIONLESS THROUGHOUT THIS FOUR
PANEL SEQUENCE, WITH SAMMY AS THE ONLY MOVING ELEMENT AS HE
STANDS THERE DEMONSTRATING FRACTAL MATHEMATICS WITH A SHEET OF
PAPER ON WHICH IS INSCRIBED A LETTER FROM THE SOCIAL SERVICES.
SAMMY: But a BALL, on the other hand, that’s got THREE dimensions.
SAMMY: So, if we take our paper and we do THIS…
PANEL 4
HEALDIE STILL STAND STARING BLANKLY AT WHAT SAMMY IS DOING. SAMY
NOW STANDS WITH ONE HAND RAISED IN FRONT OF HIM, THE PALM
UPWARDS. RESTING IN SAMMY’S PALM IS THE CRUMPLED BALL THAT IS ALL
THAT REAMAINS OF THE SOCIAL SERVICE’S LETTER TO HEALDIE. SAMMY
LOOKS AT THE BALL IN HIS PALM WITH INTEREST AND SATISFACTION.
HEALDIE LOOKS AT IT WITH INCOMPREHENSION.
SAMMY: There.
SAMMY: Now it’s got more than TWO dimensions, but it hasn’t quite got
THREE:
PANEL 5
SAME SHOT AGAIN, BUT HERE, SAMMY NONCHALANTLY FLIPS THE BALL OF
CRUMPLED PAPER BACK OVER HIS SHOULDER WITHOUT SPARING IT A
GLANCE. HIS EYES ARE FIXED CALMLY UPON HIS FATHER’S FACE, WATCHING
FOR ANY REACTION. HEALDIE, FOR HIS PART, HAS MOVED HIS HEAD SLIGHTLY
TO FOLLOW THE TRAJECTORY OF THE WADDED=UP BALL WITH ITS EYES AS IT
SALES BACK OVER SAMMY’S SHOULDER INTO THE GLOOMY AND CLUTTERED
DEPTHS OF THE ROOM BEYOND.
SAMMY: The second-and-a-half dimension.
PANEL 6
NOW, THIS LAST TIER IS ANOTHER CONTINUOUS BACKGROUND SHOT. TAKEN
OVER ALL, WHAT WE SEE IN THIS TIER, ALBEIT DIVIDED UP INTO FOUR
PANELS, IS A SHOT OF HEALDIE’S FRONT ROOM AS SEEN ROUGHLY FROM
FLOOR LEVEL, LOOKING UP, DOWN IN THE BOTTOM FOREGROUND, LARGE
AND LOOMING AND SPREADING OVER AT LEAST THREE OF THE FOUR PANELS
HERE WE SEE THE CRUMPLED LETTER FROM THE SOCIAL SERVICES THAT
SAMMY DISCARDED LAST PANEL. IF YOU NEED ANY DUMMY TYPE-WRITTEN
TEXT TO MAKE THE LETTER LOOK AUTHENTIC THAN I SUGGEST SOMETHING
LIKE THE FOLLOWING: FIRST, THE SOCIAL SERVICES HEADING AT THE TOP FO
THE PAGE (WE’LL SEE IF WE CAN GET YOU A COPY OF THE RELEVANT LETTER
HEADING) AND THEN THE LETTER AS FOLLOWS:
“Dear Mr. Portus,
    Following our letter of August 19th, we are pleased to inform you that a
new social worker has been assigned to deal with you personally. She will be
calling on October 17th at approximately 3:00 p.m.
    If for any reason you are unable to keep this appointment, please do not
hesitate to contact the department at the above number so that a
subsequent date can be arranged.
Yours sincerely,
Joyce Wilcox”
PLEASE UNDERSTAND THAT I’M NOT ASKING YOU TO FIT ALL THAT IN..IT’S
JUST IN CASE YOU WANT TO HAVE SOME OF THE TYPE ON THE CRUMPLED
LETTER STILL VISIBLE AND WONDER WHAT WORDING TO USE. ANYWAY, IN
THIS FIRST PANEL OUT OF THE FOUR THAT COMPRISE THE CONTINUOUS
BACKGROUND HERE WE ARE LOOKING UP FROM FLOOR LEVEL AT SAMMY
AND HEALDIE. CALMLY AND GENTLY, SAMMY PLACES ONE HAND UPON
HIS FATHER’S SHOULDER AND STARTS TO GENTLY STEER HIM TOWARDS
THE RIGHT OF THE TIER, HEADING TOWARDS THE DOOR THAT LEADS OUT
INTO THE HALLWAY AND THE KITCHEN BEYOND, VISIBLE OVER IN PANEL
NINE AT THE RIGHT-MOST END OF THIS TIER. AS SAMMY ATTEMPTS TO
LEAD HIS FATHER AWAY, HEALDIE IS STILL LOOKING DOWN AT THE FLOOR IN
THE FOREGROUND. I DUNNO IF THE CRUMPLED PAPER WILL BE VISIBLE IN
THIS FIRST PANEL…PROBABLY NOT, IN WHICH CASE HEALDIE’S FASCINATED
GAZE SHOULD BE DIRECTED TOWARDS THE BOTTOM OF PANEL 7, WHERE
ONE EDGE OF THE CRUMPLED BAL IS ACTUALLY VISIBLE. HEALDIE FROWNS
SLIGHTLY AS HE GAZES, LOOKING INTERESTED AND INTRIGUED DESPITE
HIMSELF WITH WHAT SAMMY HAS JUST DEMONSTRATED TO HIM, EVEN IF
HE CAN’T QUITE FIGURE IT OUT YET. AS HE GENTLY STEERS HEALDIE AWAY,
SAMMY APPEARS TO HAVE PUT THE BALL OF PAPER COMPLETELY OUT OF
HIS MIND, RESUMING HIS NORMAL CALM MANNER.
SAMMY: Now, you come and sit down and I’ll make you a cup of tea. How’s
that sound?
PANEL 7
NOW, AS WE TRACK ACROSS, WE SEE SAMMY LEADING HIS DAD FURTHER
AWAY FROM US, HEADING DIAGONALLY ACROSS THE ROOM TO WHERE
THE DOOR WAITS OVER IN THE BACKGROUND OF PANELS EIGHT AND NINE.
NEITHER OF THEM ARE LOOKING BACK AT THE FLOOR HERE, BUT RIGHT UP
IN THE FOREGROUND WE CAN SEE THE LEFT-MOST EDGE OF THE CRUMPLED
BALL OF PAPER LOOMING IN CLOSE-UP. LOOKING UP PAST THIS WE SEE
HEALDIE AND SAMMY AS THEY WALK AWAY FROM US. HEALDIE LOOKS
MUCH CALMER NOW, HIS EARLIER AGITATION FORGOTTEN. HE LOOKS
DOWN AT HIS SON WITH SAD AND LOVING EYES. SAMMY’S ONLY VISIBLE
RESPONSE IS A SORT OF SELF-DEPRECATING SHRUG, BOTH PHYSICAL AND
FACIAL AS HE WAVES AWAY HIS FATHER’S APOLOGY.
HEALDIE: Sounds pretty good t’me.
HEALDIE: Sorry about all de frettin’ an’ mopin’.
SAMMY: S’okay. We all have bad days.
PANEL 8
CONTINUING TO TRACK ACROSS WE CAN NOW SEE THE MIDDLE OF
THE CRUMPLED BALL OF PAPER LOOMING UP CLOSE IN THE BOTTOM
FOREGROUND. LOOKING UP PAST THIS WE SEE HEALDIE AND SAMMY AS
THEY REACH THE OPEN DOOR WAY, THE BULK OF WHICH IS OVER IN THE
NEXT PANEL. THEY ARE ABOUT TO GO THROUGH IT HERE. AS THEY DO SO,
HEALDIE SHOOTS ONE LAST THOUGHTFUL AND WONDERING GLANCE BACK
OVER HIS SHOULDER TOWARDS THE CRUMPLED BALL OF PAPER ON THE
FLOOR IN THE FOREGROUND. SAMMY, AS HE CASUALLY REPLIES TO HIS
FATHER, IS NOT LOOKING AT EITHER US OR THE CRUMPLED PAPER, SO THAT
WE CANNOT SEE HIS FACE AS HE SPEAKS. ALL WE CAN SEE IS THE BACK OF
HIS HEAD AS HE STARTS TO ENTER THE KITCHEN THROUGH THE OPEN DOOR.
HEALDIE: Y’know, dat’s a useful place, dat secon’-anna-half dimension.
SAMMY: Oh, it’s more than just a PLACE.
PANEL 9
IN THIS LAST PANEL WE COMPLETE OUR PAN ACROSS SO THAT UP IN THE
BOTTOM FOREGROUND WE NOW SEE THE RIGHTMOST EDGE OF THE
CRUMPLED BALL OF PAPER, LOOKING UP BEYOND THIS WE CAN JUST
GLIMPSE HEALDIE AND SAMMY AS THEY DEPART OUT OF THE DOOR IN THE
BACKGROUND, PERHAPS PULLING IT CLOSED BEHIND THEM AS THEY DO SO,
SO THAT WE ONLY CATCH A GLIMPSE OF THEM AS THEY VANISH THROUGH
THE CLOSING GAP, SAMMY BALLOONS ISSUING BACK TO US AS THEY DO SO.
IN THE FOREGROUND, THE CRUMPLED BALL OF PAPER LIES MOTIONLESS.
SAMMY: More like a new planet. Perhaps one day we’ll go there, eh?
SAMMY: Just for a holiday.
PAGE 8
PANEL 1
THERE IS ONLY ONE BIG PANELS FILLING THIS ENTIRE PAGE, THIS BEING OUR
SPLASH PAGE FOR THE ISSUE. ALL WE SEE IS A CLOSE UP OF THE CRUMPLED
BALL OF PAPER RESTING THERE ON THE FLOOR, IT’S FOLDS AND CONTOURS
BUNCHED TOGETHER IN CRUMPLED COMPLEXITY, A PIECE OF SPONTANEOUS
AND ABSTRACT ORIGAMI STRANDED SOMEWHERE BETWEEN THE SECOND
DIMENSION AND THE THIRD. WHATEVER TYPING MAY BE VISIBLE UPON THE
CRUMPLED SURFACES IS SO TWISTED IN UPON ITSELF THAT THE SNATCHES
OF WORDS AND PHRASES THAT WE CAN DISCERN NOW READ MORE LIKE
ONE OF WILLIAM BURROUGHS’ WILDER CUT-UPS THAN AN INNOCENT
LETTER FROM THE SOCIAL SERVICES. THE BALL OF PAPER JUST RESTS THERE,
WHITE AND CRUMPLED AGAINST THE DARKNESS, A CHAOTIC PAPER ROSE.
THIS ISSUE’S TITLE IS SUPERIMPOSED SOMEWHERE UPON THE PAGE EITHER
TOWARDS THE TOP OR BOTTOM, WHICHEVER LOOKS BEST. FOR THE BALL OF
PAPER ITSELF , PLEAS FEEL FREE TO ZOOM RIGHT IN CLOSE AMONGST THE
PAPER CREVASSES AND CANYONS, IF THAT LOOKS MORE INTERESTING.
TITLE: THREE
Final
Words
Eddie Campbell
Here’s what Eddie Campbell wrote about the end
of Big Numbers in his “Alec: How to Be an Artist.”
He asked Moore to let him complete Big Numbers
after he finished From Hell, but Moore declined.
Alan Moore
Q: [Laughs] …I’ve only got #1 of Big Numbers

A: There were two that actually came out. Yeah, that was going
to be a masterpiece, a magnum opus. I still think those first two
issues are among some of the best comic work of that period. I
mean, I got five scripts written.

Q: Right, ’cause I wish I knew where it was going.

A: Yeah, well, I mean, I’ve got the whole thing plotted. I’ve got
an enormous sheet of A1 paper with the whole plot on it, almost
like a graph. The idea was that we were going to produce a really
good comic, publish it ourselves, we were really committed to
it and it was my money that was kind of supporting the entire
thing. What happened was that Bill Sienkiewicz, after promis-
ing to do it, he did a brilliant job on the first two episodes and
then just seemed to stop working upon it and all the money was
kind of pouring down a black hole, because we’d still got over-
heads but we couldn’t actually get a comic out, because the artist
wouldn’t – and we kept saying “Look, Bill, if you don’t want to
do this work, just tell us and we’ll think about something else,
get a replacement in or something but just tell us so that we’re
not just having all of our money pouring down a drain” and
Bill still didn’t get up the nerve to tell us that he didn’t want
to do it for another few months, by which time our situation
was desperate. Then Kevin Eastman, of Teenage Mutant Ninja
Turtles fame, he stepped in with his brave but doomed publish-
ing venture Tundra and he was trying to produce Big Numbers.
We tried to get Al Columbia, who’d been Bill Sienkiewicz’s as-
sistant, to continue with the strip. Now, I heard that Al did an
issue of it but then, depending on which story to believe, either
he destroyed the artwork or took it away or I don’t know what
happened but it meant that we’d had two artists sort of back out
on the project.

Q: So, it’s permanently unfinished, do you think?

A: I don’t see any way that I can resurrect it as a comic strip. I

mean, what do I do? Do I actually sort of say “Yeah, we’ve got
a great new artist, are we going to start from #1 again but this
time, no, buy it, because this time we really will get to issue #12.”
I mean, I wouldn’t buy that if I heard it from somebody who’d
kind of failed twice to do what he said he was going to do.
Al Columbia
Big Numbers was a Joycean look at life in a
small English town as a big-box retailer pre-
pared to set up shop. But this grand fiction-as-
fractal-geometry experiment only managed to
produce two published issues in 1990 before
hitting a massive delay during work on issue #3,
losing Sienkiewicz, moving from Moore’s Mad
Love publishing imprint to [Teenage Mutant
Ninja Turtles co-creator] Kevin Eastman’s
Tundra, tapping Sienkiewicz’s then-teenaged
assistant (and current reclusive Pim & Francie
creator and alt-horror superstar) Al Colum-
bia to take over, losing Columbia and all the
pages he’d completed, and finally shuddering
to a halt….[N]othing has been seen of the all-
Columbia fourth issue, long rumored to have
been destroyed in its entirety by the perfection-
ist artist.
In his fascinating conversation with McConnell,
Columbia first tells the story of how he landed a
gig as Sienkiewicz’s assistant (a portfolio full of
Sienkiewicz knockoffs apparently helped) and
then how he was tapped to take over the strug-
gling Big Numbers series (by Eastman’s request,
some time after Columbia’s relationship with
Sienkiewicz had ended on unpleasant terms).
But the difficulty of working out the arrange-
ments between all the parties involved led to
lengthy delays even after Columbia agreed
to take over, which in turn gave him ample
time to realize he really hated working in the
photorealistic style he’d been asked to use to
mimic what Sienkiewicz had done in the two
published issues (the third, unpublished one
was done in Sienkiewicz’s trademark scratchy
style) — not to mention sour on the contract
he’d signed with Tundra. He also grew skeptical
of the quality of the script, with which, he says,
he felt Moore was setting himself up for failure
by telling people it was his magnum opus: “I
know that I got real bored with it quick, and
whatever cleverness [it had], it might have been
too clever.”
Then, one fateful day:
“I was roommates with all the guys in this band
called Sebadoh, which were particularly large
back in the day — Lou Barlow, Eric Gaffney,
and Jason Loewenstein, they were all hanging
out. And Eric Gaffney was gonna put out this
single, this little split single with somebody,
and he wanted artwork for it and he wanted me
to do something. He was big into collages and
stuff like that, and we got the idea that I would
chop up all this Big Numbers artwork and make
a collage out of it for his album cover. I don’t
know how I got the idea, but I just hated [Big
Numbers] — I didn’t want anything to do with
it, I had already quit it or I was going to, I knew
I wasn’t going to have anything to do with it. So
we put every page on a chopping block, one of
those big slicers, and I just chopped it up madly
for about a half hour — just sliced the whole
thing up with a chopper. And Marc Arsenault,
who’s the Wow Cool guy — I don’t know if
anyone knows who he is, the minizine guy —
he was a good friend of mine, he came over and
just looked horrified. He stood in the doorway
and watched me chopping up all the artwork
and just went “Oh my God!” I think he must
have told somebody I’d done it, and that’s how
that [story] got started. But I think even before
that, there was something [going around] to
that effect. That might have been what influ-
enced me to do it: “Well, they’re saying I did
this, I might as well.” I can’t remember, though.
But it wasn’t like “Oh my God, I’m gonna flip
out, I can’t stand this!” It wasn’t this breakdown.
It was just like, ‘Oh, this’ll make a cool record
cover.’ That’s it. That’s all it was.”
Bill Sienkiwcz
I’ve been getting emails and links sent to me
with a fair degree of regularity since the ‘Big
Numbers issue’ over Big Numbers #3 hit the
spotlight... again. I say ‘again’ because quite a
few pages of issue #3 emerged a few years ago.
There was speculation surrounding the pages
then and, if anything, I’ve discovered that the
ensuing years have done little to assuage, or
diminish, that conjecture. And in the interest of
full disclosure, I should note that having heard
just about every conflicting ludicrous reason,
every single link of spaghetti in the chain of
events (somehow since miraculously renamed
stainless steel rather than pasta), that no matter
how inane the reasons given were, ultimately,
each and every one - without exception - came
from absolutely unimpeachable authorita-
tive sources. Heeuuge air quotes around that
phrase, if not actual boldface ones. By now if
you haven’t yet gleaned my admittedly sarcastic
incredulity - yes, even at this late date - well, so
be it.
The situation is still rife with speculation. Some
folks who have been emailing me ask directly
about the provenance / pedigree / credits /
yayas regarding those recently resurfaced art
pages from that issue. It certainly seemed to
me that there are quite a few readers who are at
least moderately curious as to what portion of
issue #3’s artwork is mine and what portion was
drawn by Al Columbia, who was my assistant at
the time. I’ll clarify as best I can, in part because
this matter of speculation has exceeded critical
mass; it exceeded it ten years ago, but that’s one
guy’s opinion.
So: Though only ten pages have been seen of
Big Numbers #3, the entire issue was drawn
and completed. All of it. Not merely the ten
pages circulating. Now as to who drew what:
Except for a few minor backgrounds (and to
be completely honest, I don’t think he drew
anything in that issue at all - but I will admit I
may be hazy on that point - I’ll simply say that
I’m erring on the side of generous caution, or
cautious generosity) that except for perhaps a
few possible backgrounds, that ALL of issue
#3 - repeat: ALL of the artwork on Big Num-
bers issue #3 was drawn by yours truly. Or, for
those who prefer the obverse: NONE of Big
Numbers #3 was drawn by Al Columbia (and
again I add the caveat - except for possibly a
couple of backgrounds). Certainly Al drew no
figures in the background or anything story-
related. I can’t imagine he’d want to take credit
for my work any more than I would covet credit
for work drawn by him. I imagine he’d want to
take credit for - and rightly so - the work that
is completely his own: meaning that of issue #4
(I personally have never seen any of the issue.
I hear Al destroyed it in its entirety, but I can’t
say I witnessed this destruction firsthand). So
I freely admit that, except for the cover - I had
done covers for approximately half the series at
this point - I drew nothing at all in issue #4.
Perhaps the question as to who did what in is-
sue #3 may have arisen due to the change in art
style from the first two issues. Issues #1 and #2
were done in a more photographic, soft focus
atmospheric airbrushed painterly style. While
I loved the style and enjoyed working within
those parameters immensely, I came to realize
that by choosing to work that way for twelve
issues, I was almost literally painting myself
into a corner. This approach was incredibly
time-consuming and ultimately proved over-
whelming and unfeasible. Things were changing
from issue to issue and becoming, by nature of
the story, more interwoven and chaotic - the
series was to have been painted completely in
colour by issue #12, with each issue introducing
more variables and approaches, colour being a
dominant element. Adding to the workload for
each issue was the necessity to thumbnail Alan’s
script thoroughly.
At this point I’d like to say that everything
you’ve heard about Alan’s scripts is true, and
then some. Alan’s a genius, an absolute gentle-
man. Plain and simple. Yes, his scripts are dense.
They’re brilliant, layered, nuanced, variegated,
textural, beautiful and daunting. Simultaneously
so. And although Alan is incredibly deferential
and generous as to allowances for alterations
made by the artist, the scripts veritably beg, no,
demand, to be adhered to in their totality. It’s
practically sacramental.
So, I admit I found Alan’s scripts a challenge of
incredible dimension and beauty. Every page
was a gauntlet of ornate opulence tossed at my
feet, if not swung abruptly at my face, thwacking
me a bloody good one. If I cursed him for this,
I’m sure it was due to outright awe. Working
with Alan was like going from the multiplication
table to the periodic chart to quantum physics
all in the space of one panel border. Concentrat-
ing only on the work Alan and I did collabora-
tively, foregoing for the moment his impressive
oeuvre, just think of the depth and differences
between his Shadowplay (Realpolitik via Kafka)
and (though only a few issues), his Big Numbers
(Reality via Schrödinger’s Kafka.)
So I’d do the thumbnails. I’d then use those
thumbnails to choreograph, and then photo-
graph, on average, forty five different people
as characters, both primary and secondary. (I
should mention that only one of these models
was an actual model model. The rest of this
Dickensian (Mooresian) cast was comprised
of real people with real lives, many of whom,
though not all, had little or less than zero in-
terest in comics. Primarily, they held the pre-
conception that comic books were Betty and
Veronica, Superman or The Hulk. To them,
The Avengers was less Captain America and
more Emma Peel, bowlers and brollies. And
some didn’t even register comics to that minute
extent. Some had never given a single solitary
thought about comics. They had no relevance
or import whatsoever in their lives. That said,
I don’t want to give the impression that this
multi-ethnic ensemble was in any way some sort
of artistically disinclined Diaspora. No, pretty
much everyone actually seemed very open to
this ‘comic book experiment.’ They were de-
cidedly game, God love ‘em, but that’s not to
say there weren’t speed bumps and downright
caldera-sized potholes en route. Several of the
folks - like the sweet Indian gentleman, who
posed for the role of the store owner /model
train aficionado, wanted to make sure he wasn’t
being portrayed in any way contrary to his
religious beliefs; the black father wanted to be
portrayed with dignity. I understood his con-
cerns but I tried to explain - and thus came up
with a release form, that basically laid out that
if the characters they were posing for did less
than savoury things, it in no way reflected upon
the models as people. I know this sounds exotic
and extreme, but we have to remember that a
great percentage of the populace have no clue
as to what posing for another character means.
They’re simply who they are. It was an interest-
ing adjustment. Time consuming, too.
Then there were the parents who were under-
standably less than thrilled by the prospect of
some crazy comic-book punk taking photos of
their little darlings making Molotov cocktails.
Can’t say I blamed them. But the fact that the
town where I lived and worked - Westport,
Connecticut - and environs, happened to be the
inspirational setting for the novel The Stepford
Wives did seem particularly apropos. The con-
trarian in me loved the wicked irony.
And the ‘little darlings’ learned a skill.
I was certainly in the thick of it, awash in ac-
tual ‘big numbers,’ where coordinating this
monstrous and increasingly time-consuming
photographic schedule would have been - in
and of itself - more than enough lunacy for any
sane individual to deal with. The key word here
is ‘sane.’ My favourite local watering hole was a
way-station for folks in a variety of entertain-
ment and news arenas. Everyone knew every-
one. Or knew someone who knew someone. It
was two degrees of separation, not six. There
were amazing illustrators (Bernie Fuchs, Al
Parker, Bob Peak, Robert Fawcett), actors (Paul
Newman, Joanne Woodward, Chris Walken,
Keir Dullea), artists like Charlie Reid, Bob
Baxter, writers like Erica Jong, and many comic
book and comic strip artists and writers - too
many to name. It was Heaven. An incredible ar-
tistic hub. I mention this because I realized that
with the huge chunk of reference-gathering I’d
bitten off with regards to the photography of so
many people, I was negotiating my way around
myriad potential landmines. I came incredibly
close to calling the driving force of the Westport
theatre scene - Joanne Woodward herself - with
a plea to recommend actors-people who knew
what it entailed to act a part. The only double-
edged sword would be in paying so many people
for their expertise, and as importantly: for their
time. Financially, Big Numbers started to be-
come a money pit. Too much time and effort
was involved in getting the reference, leaving
very little time to create the artwork. Time. The
ultimate tool. The ultimate foe.
Still, as it was, many friends made themselves
available as models, gratis. One, the phenom-
enal cartoonist Stan Drake, who was my father-
figure, my dear friend, and artistic mentor,
posed as Christine’s father, the gent eating his
dinner whilst seated on the porcelain throne.
A helluva thing. But Stan thought it was great.
Odd, bizarre, but fun. John Prentice also posed.
He was the abused wife’s landowner dad. Frank
Bolle Jr. was the traumatized cabby. And at the
watering hole, I’d asked a regular, a gent I’d occa-
sionally drink with, a gent named Harry Rea-
soner, to play a newsman on the English telly.
He laughingly demurred. C’est la vie.
Another friend of mine - the one who played
the architect - actually was an architect. He’d
formerly been a Navy Seal, and true to form, he
brooked no shit. Here was as militaristic a guy
as one could ever fret to meet in a dark alley
or beachfront, and then there was yours truly:
the most liberal confrontative wiseass comic
book guy in a town of young republican bank-
ers - needless to say, Mr. Seal and I got along
famously. He loved comics. And it was he who
suggested that I photograph his two sons as the
architect’s sons. Their ages were exactly as Alan
had written. Order from chaos, indeed. (The
architect’s daughter was played by a friend of the
woman from whom I was splitting, so tensions
there were high).
Things seemed to escalate in direct inverse
proportion to levels of sanity... More, they actu-
ally degenerated: Horribly, sadly, two of the
models died. One good friend drowned in a
freak boating accident. His passing was horrible
on so many levels. Both he and his girlfriend
worked at the watering hole. The entire town of
Westport mourned. It was a death in the family.
Another friend, Ray, and I were fellow mem-
bers of the Loyal Order of Raccoons - yes, those
Raccoons - with a nod to the great Gleason. Our
once-monthly meetings were really an excuse
for fifteen guys to get together to play pool,
cards, darts, embarrass our fellow Raccoons by
holding wildly inappropriate bachelor parties
etc, all done under the influence of the demon
rum. Ray died from pancreatic cancer and left a
wife and a four year old daughter... Art and life
were distilling to a quintessence of extremes.
Chaos, love, loss, overwhelmingly intense expe-
rience of going through a war together. So many
people, so many lives, intersecting as lives and
under the rubric of the Big Numbers family...
The biggest challenge to the series was yet to
come. The main character, my friend who
modelled for Christine, chose that particular
time period to get married. Now, that shouldn’t
have been a real problem, right? Well, normally,
probably not, except that she married into the
military, and her newly-minted husband was
stationed in Germany. So, after the newlyweds
cut the wedding cake, and washed it down with
champagne, it was auf wiedersehen Christine.
I couldn’t very well deride her by exclaiming,
“How could you do this to me?! To US? After all
we’d been through?!” Even I’m not that much of
a narcissist. But come on, how dare she presume
to have a real life?
Additionally, the backdrop for this time period
was chockablock with huge personal changes in
my life, such as it was: the fairly well known rift
with Al Columbia - well, in the comics universe,
it was Peyton Place meets All about Eve . Out-
side of that arena, no one gave a damn, thank
God. - which again only served to fuel greater
levels of wild speculation. I should point out
that Al and I have long since made our peace.
I bear him no ill will. Chalk the feud up to the
folly of youth.
Oh, and I just remembered: the musical
soundtrack for this period was The Cure’s bril-
liant album, Disintegration. Coincidence? The
cut The Same Deep Water as You seemed to
become a spooky mantra. In his lyrics, Robert
Smith seemed to acknowledge the coexistence
of entropy and resignation. I freely admit
listened to that album for weeks on end, and
tossed in a fair amount of hope and redemption,
just because the music was too beautiful to be
so overwhelmingly bleak. To this day, the song
takes me back.
Anyway - Things couldn’t continue to get more
bizarre, I thought. No way.
Until they did: i.e., between issues #2 and #3, the
Seal’s youngest son grew six inches in height.
Got very lanky. Endured the awkwardness a
breaking voice engenders. Entering puberty
will do that to you. He was hardly a ‘little kid’
anymore. More, he was hardly the ‘little kid’ I
needed to pose for pix of the youngest son of the
architect. I just had to roll my eyes.
Another digression: I should explain at this
point that I’m not at all a slave to photography. I
hate being a slave to anything that could become
a crutch. Photos are tools to be used and modi-
fied for any specific need of any specific gig.
I myself have posed as everyone from an old
crone to a teenage alien. I would use the photo
as basic position and proportional guide. Then
I’d change things based on my accumulated
knowledge from drawing from life - around for-
ty sketchbooks of life drawings. Other times I’d
simply ‘make shit up’. Artist’s prerogative. As Al
Williamson once remarked to me about when
he was trying to draw scenes from his imagina-
tion, rather than using photographs. He referred
to it as having to ‘fall back on talent’.
But with Big Numbers one of the demands –
prerequisites - I’d placed upon myself was to
work almost exclusively from the model as
possible. I was going for as great a degree of il-
lustrative photographic verisimilitude as I could
muster. Dammit, I was going to adhere to the
accurate reference no matter what. It was, in
retrospect, a vain attempt to control everything
- everything - completely, as things swirled and
collided in midair all around. This was my Stan-
ley Kubrick period. Of course, the more I tried
to control everything, the more Real Life kicked
my ass. Up and down the Route 95 corridor.

So, the more time flew by, the more detritus was
spawned, the thicker the sorghum got. I real-
ized, after reading issue three, that a stylistic
alteration seemed appropriate, as I’d done in
Elektra: Assassin. The benefit would be show-
ing the increasingly chaotic milieu that the
characters inhabited, AND it would also speed
up the process and output of pages. (Or so I’d
hoped: I needed to gain - as I said - a semblance
of control of this runaway behemoth.) So, I
switched to doing the pages in pen and ink, with
additional airbrushing, spatter, and pencil on
Craftint board. The stylistic - or rather techni-
cal - switch felt incongruous to some, but I was
determined to make the stylistic shift work in
the contextual Gestalt of the series. Big Num-
bers was about finding Order in Chaos. And
things couldn’t have been more chaotic than
they were right then and there. And besides,
my work has always been about trying to make
order out of messes. Or simply making messes
- only messes - and nothing more than messes
to my detractors’ perceptions as in: “What’s with
all his scritchy-scratchy shit? UGH!” But I just
did what I do. It was like breathing to me: mak-
ing artistic corrections out of what to me were
screaming errors begging to be addressed, mak-
ing silk purses out of a sow’s ear or cow sphinc-
ter, or creating a sow’s ear out of silicone, molly
bolts, and matchsticks... but you get the point.
Somewhere along the way, this secular book
on mathematics and chaos had blurred the
boundaries between religion, and real life – or,
rather than religion, more appropriately, say,
spirituality - like the Gnostic gospels and pagan
idolatry being co-opted for political expediency
by nascent religions of Christianity and Judaism
(at the time they were probably the equivalent
of ‘cults’ - until they went nova for the masses.)
Art bled into commerce. Commerce just bled
and bled, exsanguinating like crazy. Chaos as
Theme met Chaos in Reality... and the clock
continued to tick down, calendar pages whirled
in a parchment-based purée around my draw-
ing board - as if from some bad film mon-
tage. Deadlines were blown. To smithereens. I
couldn’t sleep, and it served me right. It was en-
trusted to me to pull it off, to ‘suck it up’, grow a
sack, and I was going under for the third time...
Money got tighter and tighter. Productivity
suffered severely. Big Numbers became my life.
Not just the series Alan and I were attempting,
but Big Numbers the actual Petri dish of real life
chaos. I’d lost a parent, a relationship, began a
new one, went through the art assistant debacle,
and realized just how far behind the proverbial
eight-ball I’d placed myself. And placed Alan,
Big Numbers, and the folks at Tundra - and of
course, the all-important readers.
So in plain English, between issues #2 and #3,
my so-called life went to complete Hell person-
ally: I’m not saying this as a ‘Woe is me’ scenar-
io. Screw that pansy bullshit. I’m reporting it for
another self-serving reason: I want to confront
the speculators and all these ‘excellent unim-
peachable authorities’ - who, please remember,
weren’t even there! - and who are still actually
taking it upon themselves to - quite frankly, as
I see it - talk out of their asses (which is a nifty
parlour trick, but as a stand-in for expository
accuracy it’s, well, like talking out of one’s ass.
Things can get pretty rotten in Denmark. Or
in Oz. Or in...) Yes, I know, I’m probably spit-
ting into the wind, stressing all this stuff in an
effort to end, once and for all, the speculation,
presumption, and ‘he said - he said - she said’
innuendo. As if.
So - All this finally leads to the moment I fin-
ished up issue #3 in its entirety, after agreeing to
release the reins on the series - and so I handed
all the art for Big Numbers #3 to Paul Jenkins
and Kevin Eastman, and moved on to doing
advertising and illustration work... A break that
was imperative... and in doing so, I effectively
passed the torch to Al.
I thought that was the end of it.
In many ways it was only the beginning. The
‘behind the scenes’ tumult of Big Numbers
was an amazing correlative to Alan’s script. It
became Art imitating Art imitating Life imi-
tating... well, at the very least, severely blown
synapses.
For those of you not inclined to take this in any
sort of light of awareness, okay. I’m not looking
for absolution. I’m not looking to duck respon-
sibility, or to make excuses. I’m simply present-
ing the chain of events to the best of my recol-
lection. To give my responses (good, bad and
mezzo-mezz) to each situation that arose. I take
full responsibility for losing control of things
that should have been in my control. I was the
de facto adult in my studio. My assistant was a
kid, in many ways ill-equipped to handle certain
responsibilities. I’m sure he’d agree things were
pretty off the wall back then. We were all riding
a wild bull-dragon that hated spurs in its ribs.
I’m hoping Al and his family have a tranquil and
happy life.
I’m blessed to count Kevin Eastman, Paul Jen-
kins and Alan Moore as my friends, and gener-
ous ones at that. I love these guys. They make
my world brighter, both in comics and in life.
If I may be narcissistic for a moment (‘only a
moment?’ some of you are no doubt thinking.
‘He’s been writing a self-serving treatise since
word one.’). Nevertheless, here goes: I pride
myself on being a professional, - more than ever
these days - and I felt like Big Numbers became
my Moby Dick - the great white metaphysical
whale that had gotten away from me.
To this day, I’ve lamented that Alan and I never
finished the series. I actually literally can’t stom-
ach the thought of it remaining a hole in our
creative lives, certainly in mine. And honestly,
there’s not a week that goes by that I don’t think
about completing it, about contacting Alan and
saying, “Adult here. What say you? Let’s kick out
the jams!” I understand his great disappoint-
ment, though I’ve no doubt he’s moved on. And
gotten even more brilliant, if that’s possible. I’ve
apologized to Alan personally, and to the oth-
ers, for my part. And I apologize to you - the
readers. You’re each and every one of you a
diamond, a clear reason to strive, to give some-
thing back - a something that makes some small
difference - via my limited abilities and in spite
of my human failings. I’m by no means religious
(as spirituality and religion aren’t synonyms).
Even so, I’m praying I’m older, wiser, perhaps
even better, than I was those many years ago.
That cooler, more mature heads have prevailed.

I’ve simply tried to present my side, the POV of

one guy who was at the epicentre of the quake.
I really doubt that what I’ve written will end
speculation, or alter other folks’ agendas. I’m
not naive. I think that in hindsight, that there
were simply many many factors that played a
part in the Big Numbers implosion. I was but
one. A big part, but only one.

I know what it would take to make completion

of Big Numbers a reality. But whatever ultimate-
ly happens, this will stand as my own Chaos
Theory.

Thanks for your time.

Bill Sienkiewicz
Somewhere in Connecticut