Friday, December 31, 2010

The Joker - You Call This Insanity? - Matt Duarte

The Joker in “You Call This Insanity?” by Matt Duarte

Seven panels in this page, the first six in a normal two by three grid, with the last panel being small and wide across the page.

Panel 1

Description: Ra’s al Ghul is talking with one of his soldiers inside a big cave. Ra’s looks a bit concerned and with a curious look on his face. In the background, we can see a Lazarus Pit that is bubbling, as if there were someone inside.

SOLDIER: ...and that’s when we contacted you sir, before we approached the intruder.

RA’S AL GHUL: And you said all the guards were killed?

SOLDIER: Affirmative, sir. They are all dead.

RA’S AL GHUL: So it is not the Detective. It must be someone else...

Panel 2

Description: Ra’s is now standing defiantly next to the Lazarus Pit and shouting. Inside of it, there is a man submerged.

RA’S AL GHUL: To trespass my property and kill my men is the gravest of insults. Stop hiding, come out, and face me. The Demon’s Head is the last thing you shall ever see, I guarantee it.


Panel 3

Description: The Joker’s head is emerging out of the Lazarus pit, the liquid just reaching his chin, with a huge grin.

JOKER: Oh, Razzie! A game of hide and seek? You KNOW I am always up for that?

Panel 4

Description: Ra’s reaction face of shock and surprise at the man who has just come out of the pit. Meanwhile, Joker is swimming leisurely in the pit.

RA’S AL GHUL: Joker? Why are you here?

JOKER: I was bored.

Panel 5

Description: The Joker is now floating comfortably on his back in the Lazarus Pit. Ra’s is still standing next to it, with his back to the reader.

JOKER: You know, Razzie, I was expecting an eight alarm chili of insanity from an infamous Lazarus Pit, but this is more like a mild Tabasco sauce.

Panel 6

Description: Joker is now walking out of the Lazarus pit. He is wearing a set of Batman swimming trunks.

JOKER: I have to say, immortality is quite refreshing though!

Panel 7

Description: The Joker is now grabbing Ra’s, with one of his arms around his shoulder. He is extending the other one directly at the reader with his palm open. As always, he is grinning maniacally, while Ra’s has a look on his face as if he would want nothing else but to kill The Joker.

JOKER: SO! Razzie, I think I’m going to start coming here on the weekends. You don’t mind right? We’ll make great neighbors!

JOKER: Oh, and don’t put any more guards, I’ll just have to kill them again.


Next: Pool party!

Thursday, December 30, 2010

The Joker - Who's Laughing Now? - Sime McDonald

1. Maggie Sawyer is staring dead ahead towards us, the reader. Her expression is pained and her hand is bunched into a fist, pressed against the transparent wall of the prison cell she's looking into. We can't see the inmate from this angle. Batman - entirely cloaked in shadow, only his piercing white eyes visible - is behind her, looking in the same direction.

Commissioner Gordon is alive.
We stopped the Joker from releasing his toxin into the water supply.
You got him back here, to Arkham.
Standard day for the GCPD, am I right?

So what's brought this on?
What's changed?

2. Change of angle. We can now see the inmate. It's the Joker (?) - albeit a very muscled, broad-shouldered Joker, unlike any we've seen before. Because it's not him. It's not the Joker. It's Bruce Wayne. He's propped up against the far wall, drugged up to his eyeballs to keep him quiet. He's bruised and battered from his earlier confrontation. Standing over him is a squad, rotund fellow in a long trench coat. He's got a leather case open beside him. Meanwhile, Maggie Sawyer is still looking at him from outside.

Herr Brauer comes with quite the reputation.
I read his file. Specializes in electrotherapy.
Instigates what many consider torturous methods to acquire questionable results.

Why're we using him? Why now?

3. Inside the cell, Herr Brauer leans over the Joker, a syringe in his hand. The Joker is barely conscious. 

Mmmnot... mmnot jokerrrrr...

Hush, my friend.
I'm going to fix you.

4. Maggie Sawyer turns away from the cell, glaring at Batman, still in the shadows, non-responsive.

(off panel)

You're not going to answer me, are you?
Screw you.

5. She storms off, away from Batman.

Don't know why we put up with you crap...

6. And now, the big reveal. Tight on Batman, on his lips, on those scarred, horrible lips stretched into a recognizable grin. This isn't Batman - this is the Joker, dressed as Batman.


Wednesday, December 29, 2010

The Joker – Can You Help Me, Doctor? – Ryan K Lindsay

1. The Joker sits across a long table in a dark room. There’s some strange lighting on him coming from the other side of the table, it’s where Dr Phosphorus sits though we can’t see him yet.
Joker: I want you to take over. Aren’t you happy?

2. Dr Phosphorus sits opposite Joker, he’s right down the other end of the table. He’s wearing a shirt with sleeves rolled up and a vest over the top. His burning body glows out the sleeves and the open collar.
Dr Phosphorus: Why the fuck would you want to walk away now and leave me all your stuff?
Dr Phosphorus: You’re about the only clown in this business, no pun intended, who I actually respect and now you’re going, and you’re going to give it all away.

3. Joker smiles.
Joker: I’m not giving it all away.
Joker: There’s always method to my madness.

4. Dr Phosphorus leans back in his seat.
Dr Phosphorus: Forgive me if I don’t see it. Losing traction is always a bad idea; letting others work your gristle and hard work is even worse.
Dr Phosphorus: I don’t get it.

5. Joker stands up, buttons his suit jacket, a grim smile on his lips.
Joker: I’m not giving it away, I’m merely storing it in a safe place.
Joker: I’ve chosen you because I’m absolutely certain if things go sour I can still take everything back from you with minimal muscle.

6. Joker walks over to a girl sitting in the corner, she is in a wheelchair. She doesn't look like a picture of perfect health.
Joker: And rest assured I will be back.
Joker: Business should only take me nine months. Maybe a few extra weeks if I’m feeling happy.

7. Joker walks out of the room, pushing the girl in front of him, we see her cradling her belly like there’s a bubbling bog within her.
Joker: Keep my seat warm, Doctor. I’ll call you if there are any…complications.
Girl: When she comes, I want laughing gas…can I have some?

Monday, December 27, 2010

The Joker - The Reason - Ben Rosenthal

The Joker has just caused the deaths of hundreds of innocent people. Batman has him cornered in an alley, pinned to the wall.

1. A close up of The Joker’s face, a large smirk on his face as he talks to Batman. A thin line of blood trickles from the corner of his mouth.

Heh heh. So do it already. C’mon Bats, I’ve killed hundreds this time. Be a man, end it.

2. A close up of Batman’s stoic face.

You can’t though, can you? I’ve worked it out. Wanna know why?

3. Same as Panel 1, with The Joker looking more riled up, eyes becoming more excitable, as he prepares for his big reveal.

Not because of some supercilious moral code of the hero. Not because you don’t have it in you. No, you’ll never kill me because...

4. Batman’s stoic face, lips tighter than usual.

You love me.

Heh, heh, heh...


Sunday, December 26, 2010

The Joker - Coffee Is For Closers! - Rol Hirst

I’m thinking 9-panel grid in homage to Killing Joke and because, damn it, I need 9 panels if I’ve only got one page of Joker.

Panel One.

Close up of a coffee vending machine. Liquid pours into a plastic cup, making a coffee.

HARVEY BULLOCK (off-panel): New coffee machine’s even worse than the old one.

Panel Two.

We’re in a corridor in Gotham City Police Headquarters. Harvey Bullock is talking to Commissioner James Gordon. Bullock offers Gordon a coffee from the machine.

GORDON: Is he talking?

BULLOCK: Nothing that makes no sense. About what you’d expect from this freak.

BULLOCK: Want one?

GORDON: (Sigh.) I suppose I’m going to need it.

Panel Three.

They stand outside an interview room, preparing to go inside. Gordon takes a sip of his coffee and cringes – it tastes horrible.

GORDON: That really is disgusting.

BULLOCK: Not as disgusting as what’s in this room. You ask me—

GORDON: I don’t. No time for that old debate now, Harvey…

Panel Four.

Gordon pushes open the door for them to enter. Inside, the Joker sits at a table wearing prison whites, handcuffed.

GORDON: Let’s just get this over with, shall we?

JOKER: Conditioner! Just what I needed! My hair’s been so dry and flyaway today…

Panel Five.

Still holding his coffee, Commissioner Gordon stares at the Joker. He’s got no time for games. He just wants answers.

GORDON: Where is he, Joker?

GORDON: What have you done with Batman?

Panel Six.

The Joker looks mock-thoughtful as if he's giving the question serious consideration.

JOKER: Batman? Bat…man? Oh… Batman! Why, Commissioner, the answer’s been on the tip of your tongue…

JOKER: Where’s Batman?

Panel Seven.

Gordon spits out the coffee he’s been drinking as he runs from the room. The Joker throws his head back and starts laughing.

JOKER: You’re drinking him!

JOKER: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Panel Eight.

Harvey and the Commissioner struggle to pull the front off the coffee vending machine as the Joker’s laughter echoes down the corridor.

JOKER (off-panel): Hahahahahahahahahahaha!

HARVEY: No… Commish… You don’t really think—

GORDON: Just get it open!

Panel Nine.

Sure enough, when they pull open the vending machine they discover Batman inside. Batman isn’t dead, but he has been drugged so he’s helpless and immobile. Tubes are strapped to the veins on his wrists and in his neck, pumping his blood out and into the GCPD’s coffee whenever anyone buys a drink. The Commissioner stares in horror. Bullock starts to dry heave. The Joker keeps on laughing.

JOKER (off-panel): Hooohahahahahahahahahahahahaaa! (Snicker!)

Why The Joker?

Why The Joker?

Why... The Joker...?

Ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight?

Hoo hahahahahahahaaa!



Why The Joker...?

Why so serious?

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Santa Claus - Dressed For The Occasion - Danial Carroll

PAGE ONE (seven panels)

PANEL 1. Marc Spector and his close friends are sitting in the living room of his expensive penthouse apartment, all in high spirits. Jean-Paul and Rob are snuggling up on one sofa, Crawley is laying back on a recliner, and Marlene is on the adjacent sofa from which Marc has just risen. In the background is a large Christmas tree.

I'll be right back. This egg nog is going right through me.

PANEL 2. Side view of Marc washing his hands in the bathroom sink.

It's a nice setup you've got out there, Killer.

I'm pretty sure you weren't invited.

Don't be like that...

PANEL 3. Marc is looking in the mirror at Khonshu standing behind him, looking like Santa.

... I even dressed for the occasion.

Can't you just leave me alone for this one day?

PANEL 4. Marc has turned around and is facing Santa-Khonshu.

Why do you even care? You don't believe in that stuff.

But they do.

Have you seen how happy they all are out there?

I do it for them.

PANEL 5. Marc is walking past Santa-Khonshu towards the door.

Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to them.

But I haven't given you your present yet.

PANEL 6. Close up of Marc's hand, reaching for the door-knob.

Whatever it is, I doubt I'd want it.

PANEL 7. Marc is standing alone in the bathroom. He is in shock, having just pulled the door off its hinges.


Oh, I think you will.

[NOTE: For those who don't know, Marc Spector (aka Moon Knight) once had powers, but they were taken from him for not doing Khonshu's bidding... so I thought I'd give them back! :P]

Friday, December 24, 2010

Santa Claus - Frank Miller's Santa - Matt Duarte

Santa Claus in “Frank Miller’s Santa” by Matt Duarte

Six panels, all in black and white, with one exception at the end. The first three on the same row, followed by the next two, and the final one being the largest panel of the whole page. This works better if you imagine it being drawn by Frank Miller in his Sin City style (as if the title wasn't enough of a hint).

Panel 1

Description: Detective Grynch (new character) is looking at the readers, holding a gun with both hands near his head. His face is grizzled and weary, a cop that is on his twilight years in the force. He has bushy eyebrows and a wide mouth. His hairlines is receding, though a peak of wet hair falls on his forehead. Heavy snow is falling all around him.

GRYNCH: I thought I’d seen everything working all these years in the Sin City police force. I’ve seen my share of crazy murdering perverted bastards, but this...

Panel 2

Description: Grynch is walking along a snowed field, with trees around him. He is following two sets of steps in the snowy path before him.

GRYNCH: I’ve never seen such determination and bat-sh*t insanity. Not a good mix. All these years, none of us though someone would be capable of this...

Panel 3

Description: Grynch is looking closer at the set of steps, one of them which is wide and deep and the other is small, like that of a kid. Fresh snowflakes fall on top of it, threatening to erase the path.

GRYNCH: Every year, on Christmas Eve, he lures a small child away from his family. On a normal city, someone might have noticed the trend. But a lost kid in Basin City? Just one small drop in an ocean...

Panel 4

Description: Grynch has now come up to a house in the middle of nowhere, only surrounded by trees. He stands some distance away, defiant and determined. The snow storm blows as hard as ever.

GRYNCH: Until I made it my business. Even if have to work an extra shift on Christmas Eve while my family carves the turkey back home. Even if I have to hunt this crazy psycho myself...

Panel 5

Description: Seeing it from the outside, Grynch is moving closer to the house, sneaking and half crouching, gun in his hand as he makes it closer to a window.

GRYNCH: He lured little Kevin Geisel with promises of gingerbread cookies and lots of presents. But he’s getting sloppy. Or overconfident. I found the trail and followed him here...

Panel 6

Description: Grynch is looking through the window. Inside, a little kid (probably around seven or eight years old at most) is laying down on his stomach playing with a set of toy soldiers. In the room, there’s also many other gift wrapped boxes and a rather big Christmas tree. More importantly, there’s a big fat man with a big white beard. He is dressed in striking red bath robes with a white fur outline, with his hands in his pockets. He is grinning ominously as he watches the boy Kevin on the floor.

GRYNCH: And now...

GRYNCH: Now I’m going to kill that red fat bastard.

Next: A Holiday to Kill For.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Santa Claus - The Christmas Joke - Sime McDonald

Written by James (aged 7)
[without whom there would be no script]

with a tip 'o the hat to Sime McDonald (aged 23)
[any mistakes are his, and his alone]

1. Inside the Justice League Watchtower. Inside the ‘boardroom.’ You know; the one with the circular table with ‘JLA’ inscribed atop it, with the insignia’s of each member inscribed on the seats. Batman is speaking in front of the JLAers on Christmas Day duty; Plastic Man, Booster Gold, STEEL ... and we’ll throw Matter Eater Lad in there too, because we can, because this is out of continuity, and that guy could use some spotlight, y’know? These are ‘reserve’ Leaguers; called in because it’s the holiday season and everyone else is taking time off. Booster Gold is admiring his reflection, STEEL is polishing his helmet, and Plastic Man has twisted his body into the shape of a chair; Man Eater Lad is sitting on him, seemingly oblivious.

Christmas Day.

- - need to find these explosive toys before they detonate.
Thankfully I ... persuaded ... the Joker to talk and he produced a map of their locations.

2. A map of Metropolis lights a screen, dots placed in sporadic locations. The JLAers stare at it wide-eyed. Matter Eater Lad appears particularly distressed.

The toys are disguised as Christmas presents.
We're got three hours to search these homes and deactivate the devices.

We can't just storm into these people's homes and ruin their Christmases!

3. Tight on Batman. Smiling.

Matter Eater Lad.
I'm the Goddamn Batman.
I plan for all contingencies.
We'll blend right into Christmas.

4. Cut to a shot of the JLAers walking purposefully towards us. Their outfits have been amended - - to mimic Santa's outfit. They look quite ridiculous - fake beards, red and white suits, etc - but their expressions are deadpan, serious, focused on the job at hand... apart from Plastic Man, who is beaming.

Why are these not standard Justice League attire?
I love the colours!
Let's take a vote!

5. Cut to a prison cell, where the Joker is bunking with Two-Face. They're watching television, although the panel is angled so that we can't see the screen.

So there were no bombs?


Then why - - ?!

6. And now we see the screen; the JLAers, still dressed in their Santa Suits, walking away dedjectly as people point and laugh.

There's never anything good on television at Christmas!

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Santa Claus - The Terrible Truth About Father Christmas - Rol Hirst

Panel One.

The Punisher stands at the edge of a building, taking aim with a high powered rifle at some unseen victim round the corner, down a snow-covered, Christmas light bedecked city street.

CAP: Punisher War Journal 12/24/10…

CAP: It was inevitable this would happen one day.

CAP: After all those years delivering presents to ungrateful brats the world over, most of whom don’t have the decency to even believe in him anymore…

Panel Two.

Through the viewfinder of Punisher’s rifle we see his intended victim. Father Christmas. He stands in the middle of the street, holding a screaming child high above his head and laughing while demonic, red-eyed reindeer look on and grin fiendishly. Shocked, frightened and horrified members of the public watch helplessly. Other bodies (children and parents) lie scattered across the street. The snow is turning red.

CAP: …Santa Claus has snapped.

Panel Three.

The Punisher fires at his target, but the bullets just bounce off Santa.

CAP: I’d give anything not to have to take this guy down…

CAP: But what choice do I have?

SFX: Putt! Putt! Putt!

Panel Four.

Close on Santa, holding one of the squashed bullets the Punisher just fired at him in his big red mitten. He laughs as he drops the screaming child.

SANTA: Ho ho ho!

Panel Five.

Suddenly, Santa is standing in front of the Punisher, crushing Frank’s weapon like it’s a cheap Christmas cracker. The Punisher looks scared.

SANTA: Who do we have here? Frank Castle? You’ve been a naughty boy again, haven’t you, Frank?

Panel Six.

The Punisher gasps as a sharp object thrusts out through his chest, blood everywhere. He’s been stabbed from behind. Santa shakes his head, mock disappointed.

SANTA: And really, Frank, do you honestly expect to stop me with bullets? Haven't you heard...


Panel Seven.

Frank’s body is impaled on reindeer antlers. Santa looks on, chortling again now.

SANTA: …I don't actually exist! Ho ho ho!

Panel Eight.

Close on the Punisher's face: a single tear creeps from the corner of his eye as an awful truth is revealed to him.

CAP: Punisher War Journal 12/24/10…

CAP: The night I learned the terrible truth about Father Christmas.

Santa Claus - A True Tale of Christmas - Max Barnard

A Pre-amble: Um... Merry Christmas? This is a tale that TOTALLY happened and if you tell me I'm wrong I'll totally... Do... Nothing about it.

(Oh and this is the first time I've specifically changed the model of my scripts, using a bastardised version of Kieron Gillen's scripting style shown HERE. Let me know whether this is better or worse (or even close to the model followed!) in the comments!)


Page 1 - X Panels

We open in a dimly lit bedroom, containing a king-sized mattress in a corner (with a television propped at the end of it), a sound system in another and a bedside table with a laptop atop it against one of the walls. Seated in front of it is Max Barnard, our portly protagonist, with his glasses crooked and his hands tugging at his hair in frustration as he fails to type anything on his computer. I'll leave angle and shot placement to your discretion, and will happily provide photo-reference for the elements in the room if needed. Oh and photo-reference of myself, because EVERYONE needs a bit of my face in their lives. ;)

CAPTION: It was the night before Max's script and all through his room

CAPTION: There was nothing of interest but a feeling of DOOM

MAX: OH MY, whatever am I to do?

Perhaps a two-shot for this panel would be best. Next to Max, to his surprise, pops up Santa Claus, clad in his iconic costume, save for one important difference. Instead of the standard BIG BUSHY BEARD normally associated with the man, Santa has the memorable facial hair of Ambrose Burnside.

CAPTION: With a veritable silence, a man had appeared!


CAPTION: Why, it was Santa Claus, with a wholly different beard!


Santa Claus is pointing at Max, smiling widely as Max leans away from him, slightly perturbed.

CAPTION: In a booming voice, Santa did say:

SANTA: I hear you're struggling with your Thought Balloons day!

Max is pleading, tears in his eyes and pulling at Santa's jacket.

MAX: Why, Santa, of course, I am but a hack!
Can you help me before I have a panic attack?

Santa punches me in the face, whilst he still smiles madly.

CAPTION: With a swing of his fist, Santa did strike!

SANTA: NO! Frankly your style's a pile of old SH**E!

Santa has disappeared as mysteriously as he appeared, as Max rubs the huge bruise on his face.

CAPTION: So Santa was gone and Max was out of time...

MAX: What the bloody F**K?! That didn't even rhyme!

CAPTION: Merry Christmas, one and all. The end.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Santa Claus - Twas the Night Before X-Mas - Ben Rosenthal

I have changed the format of this week's script purely for you, the reader. Here's hoping it doesn't make your brain melt. Much.



'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

A non-descript man sits in bed reading by the light of his bedside lamp.


When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

I ran down the stairs, to see the cause of the sound;

As down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

To the right of panel we see the back of the man, stopped just before the staircase ends. He is looking into his lounge room, where a large Christmas Tree is set up. Underneath are many wrapped presents. In front of an old style chimney is the recognisable fat bearded man known as Santa Claus.


He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;


A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

He looked like a junkie, addicted to crack.

His eyes – they were small! His mask how merry!

Twas Deadpool Santa, drunk on sherry!

A close up of Santa. He is actually Deadpool dressed as Santa. And he’s drunk.


He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, he’d let himself go,

And I laughed when I saw him, he called me a ‘Mo’;

A full shot of Santa-Pool standing in the lounge room. He is giving our narrator the thumbs up.


A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had something to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

But tripped over the tree, like some jerk.

Santa-Pool tripping over some electrical cords, which we can see will result in him falling into the brightly lit Christmas tree.


The cords that were laid, to power the lights,

All of the sudden they caught alight.

The fire did spread, to the curtains and floor,

So jolly St Deadpool, ran out of the door.

The entire lounge room is on fire, with Santa-Pool running through the open door to outside.

7. Santa-Pool’s sleigh is in the air, getting smaller in the distance.


He slumped to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good OH CRAP MY PANTS ARE ON FIRE!”

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Santa Claus – Be Vigilant – Ryan K Lindsay

1. Thomas Halloway, The Angel, stands at his bar inside his mansion in the den; he is pouring two short scotches. A fire is crackling softly in the background.
Halloway: You cannot be serious. I’m sure you are aware how preposterous this all sounds.

2. Halloway is turning with his two drinks. We can see part of a figure in a chair but we only see their arm. The arm is in a nice suit sleeve, the hand dangles over the arm rest. This is Jólnir.
Jólnir: It might seem strange to you, but as someone who has lived for eons I can assure you much stranger has taken place over time.
Jólnir: My tale is peculiar but not unusual.

3. Halloway is handing his drink across, Jólnir is still obscured.
Halloway: Peculiar or unusual, I still doubt it is true.
Jólnir: You will see soon enough, just remember...

4. We finally see Jólnir in the seat. He looks rather refined, his beard is large but neat, his eyes wise. His suit is respectable.
Jólnir: I have been many names in my existence, Síðgrani, Síðskeggr, Langbarðr, but the one you need know for now is Jólnir.
Jólnir: My power is split and someone else is using it.
Jólnir: There are safeguards to such abuse but they have not been placed into effect yet.

5. Closer up on Halloway’s face.
Halloway: What would you have me do?

6. Namor comes crashing through the window, snow drifting down behind him. This is an iconic villain Namor moment, he looks ripped, angry, powerful. We can see in his hand a very familiar hammer, but with no inscription on the side. Jólnir is in panel as well.
Jólnir: Be vigilant.
Namor: Old friend, I would have words with thee.

Why Santa Claus?

Because it is Christmas time.

As a kid, I always loved when Santa was included in a comic or TV show. It’s goofy and dumb but nearly always enjoyable. I thought in this week-long build up to Xmas it wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of goofy, dumb fun around here.

I think you can just about do anything with Santa because he’s not an entity so clearly defined. He’s different from country to country, and can be from household to household within the one neighbourhood. You make of Santa what you will, so long as you believe. He can be powerful, sweet, misguided, terrible, whatever you like can be projected onto the jolly red fat man.

Hell, if you want to put someone else in the suit that’s just as cool. A Venom Santa, or Wilson Fisk in the suit, the possibilities are truly endless. But hopefully, they’re all fun.

I am extremely excited to see how my fellow tenures handle this character and ring in the new year. A Santa for every genre.

So, Merry Xmas to all, and to all a good script.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Gambit - Terrigenesis - Danial Carroll

PAGE ONE (seven panels)

PANEL 1. A shadowy figure is in the foreground, standing in the bushes, holding an M32 grenade launcher. In the background is a resort-like pool with various X-Men sitting around, just enjoying the sun on a rare break in action. The pool itself is empty, though Gambit is standing on the edge. He is wearing only swimming shorts.

What, no one want to join ol' Remy for a dip?

Très bien.

PANEL 2. A very wide view of the area showing Gambit diving into the water on one side, and a gas-grenade, trailing blue smoke, being launched from the bushes on the other.


PANEL 3. Close-up on Gambit under the water, his eyes and mouth open wide as the gas-grenade, bubbling the blue smoke, sinks slowly down before him.


PANEL 4. Gambit has surfaced, the blue smoke swirling all around him.

What ->koff<- is dis?

PANEL 5. An aerial view of the pool area showing three more gas-grenades being fired amongst the panicking mutants.




PANEL 6. Close-up of Gambit, still in the pool. The gas has mostly dispersed, but now water around him is beginning to glow pink.

Ô merde.

PANEL 7. In the background, amongst the blue smoke, the various X-Men are having their powers go haywire (such as Cyclop's entire body blasting an energy beam and Iceman having formed into a large, crystalline ice-block). In the foreground, Gambit is jumping from the pool as the whole thing is blasting skyward with pink kinetic energy!


Gambit - Among Thieves - Matt Duarte

Gambit in “Among Thieves” by Matt Duarte

This is probably a page that would work better if you saw the whole finished product, but I tried to make it an interesting script too. Layout wise, I think you could do some very neat things with the scene, but I will leave it to your imagination how this would play out better. In my mind, this page would be drawn by Daniel Acuña.

Panel 1

Description: A woman is standing inside a music venue, turning around as there is hand on her shoulder (this is Gambit, trying to get her attention). She is wearing a striking blue cocktail dress, her hair is straight, long, and black as a raven, and in her neck hangs a shinning choker necklace with a big and bright red ruby in the center. The lights are low, and there’s a band playing in the back.

CAPTION: New Orleans, Louisiana.

GAMBIT (off panel): A dance, mon cheri?

WOMAN: Remy? I didn’t really expect you here...

Panel 2

Description: Gambit is wearing a tuxedo, smiling as he pulls the woman closer to him. There is a hint of resistance from the woman, but it’s too late, as they are in the center of the dance floor already.

GAMBIT: Really, now? How’s one expect the crawfish not be found in the bayou?

WOMAN: Alright, alright, I’ll dance with you, but PLEASE drop your Pepe Le Pew act.

GAMBIT: ...very well.

Panel 3

Description: The woman is now dancing closely to Gambit. There is a look of frustration an annoyance on her, as if she didn’t want to be there. Gambit, on the other hand seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

WOMAN: You never told me... why do you keep up with it anyway? I KNOW that’s not really how you talk.

GAMBIT: Ah, it’s long tale, my love! Misdirection gone awfully right, I’m afraid. The “Ragin’ Cajun” is what most of the X-Men know, so that is what they get.

Panel 4

Description: The couple continues to dance, this time more wildly, as they attract the attention of everyone else around it.

WOMAN: Most?

GAMBIT: The Frost woman knows. Logan too. Ororo likes to pretends she doesn’t.

WOMAN: Ah, of course.

GAMBIT: Besides...

Panel 5

Description: Gambit is now holding the woman in a vertiginous Tango-like dip (see reference).

GAMBIT: We both know that the ladies love it.

Panel 6

Description: Gambit and the woman are now holding their arms together, as a crowd has formed around them and is applauding their now-finished dance routine. Gambit is closely whispering to her ear.

GAMBIT (whisper): I’m in town for business, but I can always make some time for you.

GAMBIT (whisper): You know the rules, though...

Panel 7

Description: Gambit is walking away from the woman as the crowd disperses. She is in the background, holding an arm to her neck, which is now empty. In the foreground, Gambit is holding the choker necklace she was wearing throughout the dance sequence.

GAMBIT: No one steals in my town, Felicia.

GAMBIT: I’ll be back in the hotel in an hour. First I have to return this to New Orleans Museum of Art.

The End.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Gambit - Into the Oblivion - Sime McDonald

1. Gambit is cradling the body of a young girl as he kicks open the doors of a hospital emergency room. His trademark trench coat is blackened with soot and his leggings are torn. He’s slightly older than the Gambit we know. The girl in his arms is bleeding, her body limp and lifeless. It may already be too late...

The girl was still breathing when Gambit got her to the hospital.


2. Gambit peers into an operating room. The girl has flatlined. Nurses are pulling a sheet over her. The mother – who we cannot clearly see, somewhat obscured by the medical staff – has collapsed onto the floor. A doctor is attempting to help her to her feet.

She wasn’t when her mother arrived.

I’m so sorry...

3. Gambit pounds the wall with his fist, forming cracks. He is a broken man.

For years Gambit had been fighting the darkness of his soul.
The part of his being that Apocalypse had forever tainted.
She had been his strength. His rock. His inspiration.

4. Tight on Gambit. His eyes glow red. His mouth has become a hard line. All that emotion he was feeling in the previous panel is gone. Replaced.

Now, he reached out and embraced it.
5. Gambit steps out into the night, charred coat flapping in the wind.

(off panel)
She’s gone, Remy...
6. The mother is Rogue. She steps out of the OR, cheeks wet with tears. She’s dressed in civvies, and like Remy, has aged.
Our daughter is ...


Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Gambit - Cherchez La Femme - Rol Hirst

I'd just like to apologise to Max, and all other Gambit fans, from the bottom of my heart. I tried to write something else, but ultimately I am an abject failure...

To be drawn in the style of an old Warner Bros Merry Melodies cartoon. You'll soon work out which one.

Panel One.

Cartoon Rogue is walking down the street, singing a song. In the other direction comes cartoon Ms. Marvel. Cartoon Rogue’s hair is all brown.

Rogue: Honey - ah, sugah sugah…

Panel Two.

Rogue bumps into Ms. Marvel and there is a zap of energy as Rogue absorbs Carol’s powers and personality.

Rogue: Ahh! Shucks!

Ms. Marvel: Owwch!

Panel Three.

Ms. Marvel lies passed out on the floor while Rogue, still bursting with energy, examines her hair in a cartoon shop window. It’s an Acme shop, of course. Rogue’s hair now has the familiar white streak in it.

Rogue: Darn! Now I need Grecian 2000 on top of everything else!

Cut to…

Panel Four.

Cartoon Gambit is playing Solitaire and drinking Kool Aid through a straw in a superhero bar. Other cartoon heroes sit at different tables, but he’s drinking alone. Suddenly he’s alert… his senses are in overdrive.

Gambit: Maintenant… what eez zis?

Panel Five.

Gambit exits the bar in a cloud of cartoon dust. Playing cards explode in the air around him.

SFX: Biff! Baff! Boff!

Panel Six.

Gambit is out on the street with Rogue. He has her in an passionate clinch, from which Rogue is squirming to free herself.

Gambit: Ah, mon cheri, our love in zee stars is wreetten, non? I am zee mutant l’amour, zee Cajun Casanova, les amoreux de stupid trenchoat… and you, you are zee southern belle du jour, zee Mississippi Magnifique, la fille aux weird white streak in your ‘air!

Gambit: I want to keez you all over...

Panel Seven.

Gambit kisses Rogue’s cheek – she’s still struggling, with a big “eurgghhhh!” on her face.

Gambit: Mwah! Mwah! Mw—

Panel Eight.

Gambit’s face goes gaunt and blue as Rogue’s cheek sucks all the life out of him via his lips.

Gambit: --ahhhhhhhhhh!

Panel Nine.

Gambit drops to the floor, an emaciated corpse. Rogue stands wiping at her face, ridding herself of Gambit’s foul slobber.

Rogue: Eeeeeeeukk! Stinky skunk!

Rogue: Erm… I mean…

Panel Ten.

Close on Rogue: a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Rogue: “Le steenky skunk!”

CAP: Th-th-th-th-that’s all, folks!

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Gambit – Bartender’s Special – Ryan K Lindsay

1. Gambit is pulling bartender duties at a seedy club, he is putting two drinks down on the bar, his hands are warming them up.
Gambit: Here you go, ladies. The special, on the house.
Mary(op): Thank you, kind sir.

2. Two ladies; Mary lifts the drink to her lips, Jo is behind her, looking away, downing hers.
Gambit: The same pretty lady, the same day each week, the same drink. You don’t get bored?
Mary: I don’t think with a pa-

3. Jo’s lower jaw and throat blow open in a dazzling display of blood and alcohol.
SFX: Kapfk!

4. Gambit is holding Mary’s wrist and warming her bracelet.
Gambit: Now why don’t you tell me who sent you two to kill me?

5. Mary’s face looks upset.
Mary: Ow, I don’t know what you mean.
Gambit: Of course you don’t. You didn’t even know you were going to kill me, did you? But you were.

6. Gambit is squinting and there’s blood popping. We don’t see Mary, maybe just the stump of her arm.
Gambit: Now you won’t.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Gambit - La Fin - Ben Rosenthal

1. A badly beaten Gambit is slumped on his knees, in the middle of rubble. His face bruised, swollen and bloody. His fingers and hands are visibly broken.

2. A tighter shot of Gambit’s face as a large hand grabs him by the throat. He doesn’t try to resist.

3. Apocalypse is holding Gambit in front of him, effortlessly. He is staring at Gambit with a look of curiosity, even though an evil smirk lines his face. Gambit appears limp in Apocalypse’s grasp.

Now, allow me show you what it means to bring death

GAMBIT (in a weak voice – he’s obviously dying)
Oh, I remember. *cough*

4. We are looking at Gambit’s face, with Apocalypse’s hand visible has t chokes the remaining life from Gambit. Gambit has a smile on his almost unrecognisable face, his clothes having a light pink shade to them.

Je suit mort. I am now dead...

5. Back to the framing of panel 3, however Gambit now has both hands around the wrist of Apocalypse. Gambit’s clothes is now glowing a bright pink, as he charges them with kinetic energy, as is the metal body armour of Apocalypse.

...and so are you.

6. A mostly white panel, with the etched outline of both Gambit and Apocalypse being torn apart by the explosion.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Gambit - Années Passées - Max Barnard

Gambit - Années Passées - Max Barnard

A preamble: They use this title as a way of saying "years gone by", or so I'm told. And that's kinda where the focus is here. This script is a weird one though. It turned out how I wanted despite not allowing me to use all the research I had. Just shows that you can try and fit stuff in, but if it doesn't feel natural.... Well... Just don't.

So anyway, here we are with a story set in the current marvel universe, where Gambit is travelling with X-23 as she tries to forge her own path in the world.


Page 1 - 8 Panels

1-- X-23 and Gambit are sitting around a small fire at night, surrounded entirely by darkness. With them is Gambit's motorcycle and some various camping equipment (sleeping bags, pans and such) laid out.

SPEECH BUBBLE/GAMBIT - So I'm thinkin', maybe we don't go too far east. There ain't nothing much to see that way now.

SPEECH BUBBLE/X-23 - ......

SPEECH BUBBLE/GAMBIT - Vous bien? Laura?

2-- X-23 is jabbing absent-mindedly with a stick at the fire, with a blank expression on her face.

SPEECH BUBBLE/X-23 - Don't... Don't you have a home? A place you belong to. So... Why aren't you there?

3-- Close-up on Gambit as he looks surprised at X-23's statement.

4-- Another close-up of Gambit as he looks down and smiles to himself wistfully.

SPEECH BUBBLE/GAMBIT - Heh, that's what I was just talkin' about, girl. See, there's not many there that would welcome ol' me in New Orleans, and I got no desire to return there myself.

5-- X-23 is leaning forward as Gambit speaks, paying rapt attention as he continues to just look on.

SPEECH BUBBLE/GAMBIT - I miss some of the times, sure, and ALL the food (you know we got about a million dishes? Good stuff) but that's the thing about places you come from, cherí. They all look a lot better in the past than if you were to go back there.

6-- Gambit is now leaning back, ready to lie on the ground.

SPEECH BUBBLE/GAMBIT - New Orleans, she not the same place anymore. Been through a real wringer. And those like me, who speak all the old cajun, we on the way out.

7-- Gambit is now lying on the ground, looking up at the night sky (whether we can see that or not is largely unimportant, mind you. As long as he's lying on his back looking up it should have the right feel to it). X-23 is getting her sleeping bag and preparing to sleep herself now too.

SPEECH BUBBLE/GAMBIT - And me? I don't even sound the same as I did back then. You know more than anyone that we change over time, and usually for the better. And so the places we're at home change with us.

8-- Both characters are now lying down as the fire has dimmed, illuminating them far less than before.

SPEECH BUBBLE/GAMBIT - Now we got some ground to cover tomorrow, so you sleep well now, okay?

SPEECH BUBBLE/X-23 - Okay. And... Remy?


SPEECH BUBBLE/X-23 - Thank you... For coming with me.

SPEECH BUBBLE/GAMBIT - Think nothing of it, cherí. Fais do-do.

Why Gambit?

Let's be honest, all of you save a few have just rolled your eyes, grunted in dismay, made a joke about gumbo or spoke in that *hilarious* mockery of an accent that has laboured this character has for most of his life in comics. And for that I tut at you and hit you on the nose with a newspaper. Because Gambit is a character with so much more to him, and that's what we're here to show.

Created by Jim Lee and Chris Claremont, Remy Etienne LeBeau is the smooth talking Cajun mutant without peer, capable of charging any inorganic matter with a distinctive purple-looking kinetic energy that more often than not makes the object explode in an extravagant manner.

Originally a thief on the streets of New Orleans, a series of tragic events resulted in him cast out from his guild and his city, leading him to wandering the world, becoming a master thief, albeit a master thief whose powers were wildly out of control, something that thrust him into the icy grip of Mister Sinister.

From there he was involved in the Mutant Massacre, joined the X-Men and various dramas followed, from his on-again-off-again relationship with Rogue, something made difficult by how uncontrollable her powers were back then, to being blinded or even TURNED INTO DEATH, ONE OF APOCALYPSE'S HORSEMEN. Which let me tell you, would be a pretty intense thing to endure.

In recent years he's continued to suffer for his willing conversion into death, which appears to have awoken a dark and evil thing inside of himself, one that in the recent Second Coming crossover almost eliminated a whole group of X-Men.

So... Yeah, tragedy kind of follows him everywhere. But over the years he has grown, matured, lost the more humiliating parts of his accent and become of the more riveting characters in the X-titles. Which certainly seems to be paying off, if you've noticed how he's one of the headlining characters in the new alternate dimension epic Age of X, out in 2011.

But still, that's just glossing over who he is. Now for the WHY part of the whole Why post. Gambit is a character that can have, and indeed has had, endless amounts of different stories surround him, simply due to how many changes he's been through over the years. And there's a certain spark and charm to the handsome git that makes people drawn to him, despite the few that speak of how much they loathe him.

If you don't get Gambit, or simply haven't read much with him in it, I implore you to check out John Layman's (of Chew fame) 2-volume series from earlier this decade, which painted a picture of a very different man than the racial stereotype of the Claremont era. It's probably one of my favourite ongoings of all time, and I'm sure that it could give you all the same love for the character that I have. And if that doesn't work read Becky Cloonan's short story starring Gambit in Nation X (issue 2), which will literally make you fall in LOVE with him (damn Cloonan and her sexy, sexy Gambit).

Gambit is a character who can give you 100 ideas off the bat, and hey, you only have to use ONE OF THEM here on the site. So dig in, have fun and learn some french!


Saturday, December 11, 2010

Faiza Hussain - Silver's Anatomy - Danial Carroll

PANEL 1. Faiza Hussain and Pete Wisdom are watching a flaming trail cut across the sky.

What is that? A meteor?

Whatever it is, it looks like it's going to land in Surrey. We'd better move.

PANEL 2. In the bottom of a smoking crater lays the Silver Surfer. A crowd, including media, has gathered around the crater's edge. Pete and Faiza are at the front.

Oh, my.

This can't be good.

PANEL 3. Faiza and Pete have moved to the Surfer's side. He has a gaping wound across his torso.

What could have possibly done this to... him.

It doesn't matter--I have to try and heal him.

PANEL 4. Faiza is leaning over the Surfer, her hands on his wound. A look of intense concentration is upon her face.

Can you even--


PANEL 5. Close up on the Surfer, sitting up.

Thank you, friends. I owe you a great debt. I--

I feel... different.

PANEL 6. The Surfer is looking to Faiza, confused.

I apologise. Being unfamiliar with your race's physiology, I had to alter it in order to heal you.

For all intents and purposes, you're now--


[Did anyone happen to catch the little sci-fi nod?]

Friday, December 10, 2010

Faiza Hussain – At The Centre, Lies The World – Ryan K Lindsay

1. Faiza is sitting back in a chair at a table in a kitchen.
Faiza: You know what I can do, right?
Voice (op): Yes, of course.

2. Doctor Doom stands in front of Faiza, a cup of tea in his hand.
Doom: Do you mean to threaten Doom?
Doom: That would be a drastic and fatal course of action to take, girl.

3. Faiza leans forward, she doesn’t want to waste time with Doom’s posturing.
Faiza: Not what I was intonating, good Doctor.
Faiza: What I wanted to discuss was what we each do with our powers. It’s probably rare that any of us have ever sat down and tried every little combination of what we can do.

4. Doom sits down, sipping his cup.
Doom: I seriously hope there is a point here or I will have missed an opportunity to whip a stablehand for no good reason.
Faiza: Doom, I could rearrange you into a pretty little candelabra, so just pipe down.
Faiza: What I’m saying is, I guess sometimes there are happy little miracles.

5. Faiza is walking towards the kitchen bench.
Faiza: I didn’t think I’d be able to do this.

6. Faiza turns with the point of Excalibur aimed at Doom’s throat.
Faiza: But I’ve unlocked a very old mystery, within this weapon, and your mother is at the heart of it.
Faiza: Care to stop being an arrogant prick long enough for us to help each other?

The Profile - What Others Are, What I Am - Ryan K Lindsay

1. Profile stands before Captain America, Cap’s fists are clenched, Profile’s hand holds a lady’s handbag.
Around Cap we get the following reads:
is perfect but knows he’s not perfect, always flosses, surprisingly worries about grey hairs, consummate gentleman, only listens to music from 1967 and before, awkwardly adopting boxer briefs, once used his shield as a pillow
Caption: Meeting someone like Captain America is boring.
Caption: And you only leave feeling worse about yourself. That’s the ideal he spreads, that you aren’t good enough.

2. Profile is on his knees before Power Man and Iron Fist on a rooftop. Rain is drizzling down.
Around Power Man we see the following reads:
strives for more but will accept slightly less, loves Jessica unconditionally, doesn’t mind that he misses chasing the old capes, once beat up a car, is considering getting a tattoo of a golden tiara somewhere on his arm, carries a lucky comb in his back pocket at all times, once beat up a dog, never carries money
Around Iron Fist we get the following reads:
doesn’t miss a day to think of his parents, hates spiders, doesn’t miss a day to do a thousand crunches, wonders what he’d look like with long hair and a beard, knows he’ll always come back to Misty, favours his left foot for kicking
Above them both we see a big read, in pretty colours, that reads:
true brotherhood
Caption: Then you meet a duo like this and you suddenly feel alone.

3. Profile is running from Wolverine. Logan stands with his claws out and his trademark jacket and hat on.
Around Wolverine we see the following reads:
what he does isn’t very nice, has killed before, will kill for what he knows is right, will kill because he knows you’re wrong, probability of killing today: 78%, will only punch you for drinking light beer, is the best there is at what he does, keeps the pickles on his burgers
Caption: Murdering psychos like this lunatic make you want to be alone.

4. Profile sits amongst the trash of an alley in Hell’s Kitchen. We see a shadowy figure of Daredevil walking away.
His reads are faint but we can make out:
loves Elektra, loves Karen, loves Dakota, loves too much, hates himself
Caption: But eventually you see that there’s always someone worse than you.
Caption: And maybe you should start to do some good with what you can do.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Faiza Hussain - Call of Duty - Sime McDonald

1. Completely red.

It was seven forty when the street exploded.

2. Faiza Hussain is propped up against an overturned bus. The London street around her is in ruins, bodies strewn about, the dead and the dying. Faiza appears relatively unharmed; a few cuts and bruises but nothing obviously life threatening. She's holding her hand to her head, as though ensuring it's still there.

It was seven forty-three when I woke up in Hell with something buzzing in my ear.

No, not buzzing.

3. Close-up of Faiza's ear, blood dripping from a wound just above it. There's a small communication-device planted there; her connection to MI-13.

(from comm-link)

Pete Wisdom.

4. From Faiza's perspective. A young child is trapped under debris, unconscious. We can't tell if the child is dead or alive, but the outlook doesn't look good.

(from comm-link)
We need you!
We need Excalibur, damn it!

5. Faiza dashes towards the child. Unbeknownst to her, towering above, is a Sentinel, its arm raised, fingers splayed, ready to fire another blast at the London street. Targeting who? Why? If only we had another page... 

And these people need a doctor.

(from comm-link)
Faiza, you don't understand.
We need y -