The start of the comic is done in silence, with only background sounds being heard. Maybe have a frame of sunrise over the abode about to be described. A man and a woman lie in bed asleep an equal distance from its centre. The cock-a-doodle-doing of the cliche/d cockeral wakes them up and they spend a little time trying to work out if the other is awake (without moving too much). When they simultaineously realize that the other is awake, they both spring up and rush to get out of the bed first. The woman wins and it then becomes apparent that the bed they have has a sort of pivot along the centre, and if someone has all their weight on one edge with no one on the other end, they drop a couple of feet. As the bloke does.
Not much of a way to get up, but attempt to make it clear that this ritual goes on every morning. Maybe a consolidatory cup of tea appears after a while, or if you're feeling a bit of a git, make the bloke get the teas in.
Pay as much attention to washing, dressing and eating breakfast as you can be bothered with. Good job I'm not doing it.
The bloke opens the chicken hut before he leaves for work.
Show the simple house they live in with well maintained vegetable garden.
The house should be set in a beautifully naff country scene with trees,
and maybe a lake, or a grassy barren moor. Follow him cycling across the
countryside. Gradually the landscape becomes more industrial, and he ends
up joining about twenty other people who are waiting outside a highly insulated
and clean portable cabin in a yard with an accummulation of construction
equipment. They are all similarly dressed in earthy, home made and coloured
clothes. Before long one geezer comes out of the cabin and another goes
in. After a short while it's our little chappie's turn. Leave the veiw
for a frame or two from the outside. He then hurrys out of the cabin onto
his bike and heads backs off post haste.
A/B 2 Historical Soap
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Miranda is sat in her sitting room with her two housemates. They are watching 'Kinkie Queenie' - the wacky historical soap opera. The screen takes up most of one wall, and the girls don't appear to be dressed too differently to the actors on the screen from what you can see of them now like, I'm not trying to tell you what their contemporary fashions are. God forbid. All this is just so we can get one up on Joey Bonehead reader 'cos he's going to think that the actors are just part of the next scene. Our belles are sort of completing the semi circle that the actors make. Well see what you can do. You're the blinkin artist.
The scene on the tele is King Richard's tent. You could of course put everyone out onto the battlefield but I reckon the girlies would look a tad out of place there. 'Oh sorry Dick, did you want us? We just thought we'd have our picnic now. You couldn't ask that group to stop fighting could you? Their spoiling our veiw of the canal.' 'canal?' Any road.
Richard: .. Get a grip you git.
Knock Knock on the tent door?
Richard: Come in. How's it hangin'?
Spy: Could be better Guv'. Well the Stanleys are there, but they seem to be standing back a slot.
Other geezer in tent: And you're not jesting either are you? S'pose they're waiting to see who comes out on top. Then get in with them, just like the waps, bless em.
Spy (looking at the camera): You'll have to stay watching 'Kinkie Queenie' for some time before you get that joke. Unless you know all about it all ready. If so what are you watching this crap for smartarse? Nik off round the back and do some gardening.
Richard: Oh get real Grandma. The boyz Stanley'll come up trumps for us. Let's get stuck in and they'll join in when they know we're going for it.
Posse: Oh yeah. Reckon.
Richard: Oh. Well, the boy Tudor got a grip then eh?
Spy: Looks link he's heading around the west side of the marsh. Should be a piece of winkle to get them with the hill behind us.
Geezer: Now I know you're not exactly God's gift to psycology like, but even you can see that our so called friends are acting quite as chummy as the might be?
Richard: Oh I? (Then offering comment) Boyz?
Frame or two of silence and everyone looking around to see if anyone's going to talk.
Ugly looking bonehead whose maybe been sharpening a knife, or is messing with a mace perhaps like: Go for it.
A nice dramatic page break now wouldn't go a miss.
A/B 3 Alternatives meet Miranda
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<Door Bell> Oh yeah. These <> stupid brackets indicate a sound effect. Well they do until I forget I've written this like.
Miranda's in the centre of the girls. By raising her eyebrows to girl 1, she gestures - well go on then. Girl 1 replys with a hand behind the ear, a squint, and a slight shift towards the door - well I didn't hear anything.
So Miranda turns to girl B, eyebrows aloft. Girl B just catching her glimpse suddenly becomes totally consumed by the intense drama on the box.
Miranda gets the door. There's the man and woman we just saw getting up. Ah it's all starting to piece itself together quite nicely. Bit of luck 'n I could have finished writing this crap by closing time. But Woody, it's the most important piece of socio-physical-econo-fictional-autobiography this week. Surely (don't go for it) you'd best put a tad more work into it than that. Alright, I'll carry on until I get bored then.
Man: Hello, is Miranda in?
Miranda: Yeah, that's me.
Man: Hi, I'm a friend of your sister's. She said you might be able to help us.
Miranda: Well I'll try. Come in and have a lovely cuppa.
The three of them troop through the lounge, past the housemates.
Woman: 'right?
Girl B: 'Cha!
Miranda: Oh, I would introduce you to them, but quite frankly they're just not worth the time or effort. We're all big fans of 'Kinkie Queenie' here. Do you watch it? Earl Grey?
Both nod alike. And Miranda sets about making the tea. All the cooking is electric, and all the food and that comes in sturdy reuseable containers. If you liked, you could have Miranda using the last teabag in the container. She can tip all the crap into the sink, flushing it down with some water, then drop the container down the shute (for collection and reuse), get a new container out from the cupboard and get some more Earl Grey out. All a very everyday occurence. The containers have a fancy printing on them saying what they are, and what's in them. But this printing is permanent, so that it can be returned to the manufacturer, refilled, and used again. All the containers in the cupboard are robust, and are resealable like.
Woman: Is that the one where they play out all of history and the actors just take on new ro^les when their characters get killed.
Man: But they all keep their catchphases though don't they.
Miranda: Yeah. All seriously low budget. It's ace.
Man: We don't use screens, so we don't really see it.
Miranda: Oh right. So how d'you know my Sis them?
Woman: Well we used to live in the same commune as her. Then this one thought we should nik off. So we settled down outside Leicester. In fact it's about our home that we've come to see you. You know they're starting to build that pretend spaceship to see who would be good to live on the real one?
Miranda: Yeah, Gensim.
Woman: Yes, that's it. Well he often does conservation stuff to earn us some hard shod, and they obviously needed quite alot of clearing to be done. So he turns up to work there the smorning only to find out that they're going to build this Gensim on our house. They've given us a couple of weeks to leave.
Miranda: They can't do that. They can't do that. How long you been living there?
Woman: We found what's now our chicken house about three years ago. It took us about six months to build the place before we could move into it, and about another six months before it was in good nick.
Miranda: And they just think they can come in and get you to move in two weeks.
Man: Well they just don't think most of them. I mean, you get people having picnics in our garden. I suppose they just don't really understand how alternatives exist.
Woman: He's a bit too understanding really. Alot of them just do it out of spite, just to piss us off and laugh at the backward or something.
Miranda: I wouldn't be surprised. What have you done so far?
Man: Well they offered 2,000 francs to help with moving house and the use of some department to help find us a new place.
Miranda: I'll bet they did.
Man: I thought that if I took their money then it'd be easy to trace.
Miranda: Yeah, you're right there. They could try to claim
that you've accepted their deal by that, but it's not going to hold much
weight really. We'll get them.
A/B 4 Miranda calls James's work
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Miranda's bedroom is plastered in girlie prints like black and white adverts of georgeous men and women, and impressionist paintings. Pretty indistinguishable from the rest of the house or any other girlies' house. She walks in and sits at the desk infront of the screen that runs along the wall by the desk. There's also some cosmetics and scraps of paper and pens on the table. Behind her (just so everyone she calls can see it) is her selection of favourite posters.
Screens are used extensively throughout everyone's life. They have a wide bandwidth and act as a terminal for information. Not only broadcast TV, but all the programs you've videoed can be viewed. Buses are ordered from them. You can instantly find out almost anything from the screen just by asking it. All the music and books that you've bought are stored 'somewhere out there'. Your bank holds all your rights to music and books etc. as well as your money. All of these services cost shod, and the price for these calls (playing some sounds or finding out who succeeded Henry VIII to the throne) is always displayed to give you a chance to fold. Each screen has a set of about four buttons which are labeled with suitable options depending on what you've just asked the screen. Say you want to get up to Worcester ASAP, the screen will already know that you like to listen to very loud Thrash Metal on your journeys around the place. There might be a Metal Bus going, but it will get you in ten minutes later than the Cribbage bus. Some of the buttons might be labeled 'Mind-buckle', 'One for his Knob', and 'Nick off' in this case. So you can choose what you want to do without having to actually say everything explicitly, actually. You can (of course) just say it if you can't be naffed to push the button.
You, the artist, are now quids up on Jo Git on what's going on in this society. You're sadly mistaken if you think your getting owt for nowt, you've got to provide the screen's button labels for the rest of the show. Alright?
Miranda: Hello James! Who's Progen bank with ah?
The screen (answering to 'James') turns itself on and displays the logo.
Screen: Medialock.
Miranda: Oh right. See if you can get their nearest branch with a PO on the blower.of her chosen hold music comes on.
James prints up: Loughborough market place branch.
A window appears on the screen with the receptionist (smooth git) in it.
Receptionist: Good evening. Medialock Loughborough, how can I help you?
Miranda: Hello I work for Contempary News. I'm doing a report on one of your clients. Could I speak to your press officer please.
Then another window appears just overlapping the one with the receptionist declaring: 37% matchup. High scores for: going down pubs, dancing and dance music. Lows: walking, education and sex.
Receptionist: Fortunately she's busy at the moment, so I'll get a chance to push my 'Lurve Button'. There she goes. Ah, I see you haven't pushed yours yet. No time like the present is there Miranda?
Miranda (thinks): Oh pleeese.
Miranda: I'm sorry I've got a pretty good date, so I'll have to pass.
Receptionist: Yeah, but you ain't been out with me. I think you owe it to yourself to have a bit of fun. Push it quickly 'cos she's just free now.
Miranda: Does she know you use your job to solicit yourself a social life? Just pass me on please.
The window switches from the receptionist to the press officer and her name (and other details?) is printed up.
Jill: Hello I'm Jill. How can I help you?
Jill has Miranda's details in a window infront of her too.
Miranda: Hello. I'm looking into a financial transaction that Progen did yesterday. It seems that it was used for quite a different purpose from that it was supposed to.
Jill: I see. Well we'd better exchange some keys and encode the line then. Alright Jack? (her screen's name)
Miranda: You too James! That's told them.
Jill: I just don't understand why it takes them so long to recognise a voice and a face.
Miranda: You'd be surprised how complicated it is. I did a short course on it once. There's a fair bit to it.
Both screens flash 'Identification guarenteed. Encoding guarenteed' up. It stays there for about 20 secs give or take. All these times and formats and that are all user changable. Miranda might have said in a fit of rage two years ago 'don't leave those bloody windows up so long' and not mentioned it since, so it only stays up for 10 now.
Miranda: Right. A couple of alternatives claim that Gensim is being built on their land and both Progen and Land Allocation failed to realize they lived there. Someone at Progen tried to keep them quiet with the offer of a new site and some cash. They got the money yesterday, and hopefully you've got some record of it.
Jill: Well, we can certainly confirm the transaction. I'll just get someone who'll tell you all you want to know, just a sec.
Miranda gets her hold music played to her. She's got a selection of favorites, or a radio station. Any road, a serious current fav comes up.
Miranda: Oh, get in.
A/B 5 Miranda and James talk on the dog
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This is James's office. Design it as wacky as you like. Basically all that is required is a seat which is good for your back (maybe one of these new fangled Japanese-Yoga-kneely thingies), a desk with a long screen to allow lots of separate windows for all your guff, a small draw for notepads, pens and personal effects, and a coat stand, natch.
Some Bloke is at his desk talking to his screen and writing odd notes and thinking. James (our hero) passes him and gives him a serious clout around the earhole. It's quite a hard hit, but not hard enough to knock him off his seat. But he falls heavily to the floor none the same.
Bloke: Oh cheers mate.
James: Yo, Kickin'.
Bloke: What do you think you're wearing eh? Did you chuck on that tie over the weekend or what?
Fully spammy head shaking and any other abserd gestures you can think of.
James: Jest ye not. I'll have you know that this tie is dead smart actually. No. Yes. The same goes for the strides which I bought with the aforementioned tie apperale not six weeks former from a kicking shop they wouldn't let you sweep the forecourt of matey. And while I'm at it, how long have you known owt about fashion? You recon old Rainbow Cheif Hatstand's kickin!
Bloke gestures (with his eyes) that the particular cauc who mistakenly thinks he's an African chef, and dresses accordingly, whom James is describing is well within earshot, and is fast approaching with a steaming cup of coffee.
James (having to think on his feet): Err. Have you seen him taking that footrug for a walk round the park? Why he can't ...
Rainbow Cheif Hatstand walks past the boys.
Bloke: Bob.
James: Right Bob. Why he can't get a dog like anyone else I'll never know. You ask me, it's worse than them grannies walking cats.
Short pause while Rainbow Chief Bob Hatstand gets out of earshot and round a corner. Cue raucous uncontrollable laughter.
Other Bloke (Who's sitting at his desk nearby, and is slightly older than the boys): I don't know what you reckon's so side splittingly funny, but have a goosy at this.
They saunter over thinking 'What?' A blank window gradually fills with small dots, apparently randomly. James and Bloke look at eachother and burst out laughing.
James: Cheers for sharing that with us. If you've got anything else interesting you'd like us to see? ...
Bloke: There's only one thing marginally sader than old Captain Chromo, and that's this inkblot. Ha, Ha.
Other Bloke: Oh yeah mock why don't ya. I'm stealing bandwidth here sonny. Every one in ten thousand bits from the management channel of that lunar link's making this.
They start taking a bit of notice now with a quizzical look. (How literary Woody. Keep it up Woody, you might fool someone.)
Other Bloke: That's loony Lol there in a photo that's worth a weeks wages! (Cackle, cackle.)
James and Bloke look at it again slightly stunned. Its got a bit clearer and you can just make out a face now. If they were laughing uncontrollably earlier, then now they're, well they're still laughing uncontrollably and falling about all over eachother, and looking up every now and then at the picture getting clearer.
Quick as you like, up flashes a message on Other Bloke's screen saying: 'Oi, James. Get to your desk smartish and do a smidgeon of work you idle get.'
At his desk.
James: Yo.
The screen springs to life.
Jill: Yo James!
James: Oh, err, hello Boss (slightly cheekily - what a monkey!)
Jill: Can you help this woman. She's a journalist and she wants to know something about the Progen account. Anyway, she'll tell you.
James: OK.
The screen changes to Miranda from Jill. Work out some cool transition if you can be naffed, or just switch them if you want (lazy git.)
James: Hello, I understand I'm to grant you your every wish.
Miranda: Well I don't know about that, but the suss on Progen wouldn't go a miss. Do we need to pass keys James?
Both the screen and our James reply simultaneously.
Screen: No it's cool, I've got that covered.
James: Hope not. I hate....
Miranda: Oh shut up you stupid computer. I'm sorry he's called James too and he should have worked out that you were too. Now don't do it again.
James: Oh, sorry. I'll try not to.
Miranda (laughing): Not you.
James: It's yout own fault for giving him such a stupid name. Can you hold for a second.
Miranda: Sure.
James then pushes a button on his screen and a choice of both their music is played to them. James slouches back in his seat and foulds his arms and makes it quite clear that he's relaxing and listening to his music. Miranda starts off with a puzzled look like, as she tries to work out what he's doing. After a couple of frames she breaks out into giggly laughter at James more than with him. James times it to perfection pushing the button and then coming in with...
James: Ooooh, that's better.
Then they both get the window coming up with '68% match up. Especially: dancing, music, socializing and travel.' Miranda's reaction is to push one of the buttons on her desk fairly conspicuously.
James thinks: Did she really just push the button? Oh God. That must be her button to take the window off the screen.
He now clams up completely from his happy go lucky self, to a milksop (I got that word from a Theasauras. Get in!) barely able to string sentances together without reference to a Theasauras. From here on he only really speaks when spoken to.
Miranda: Yeah I suppose I should change it, but I do like the name.
She starts off trying hard. Frame silence. But then she gives it up as a lost cause and carries on as if nothing has happened. James can't act in the same way.
Miranda: Anyway, some cash was drawn from your Sheepy Magna office yesterday out of the Progen account. Can you give me some verification of it or something like that.
James: Yeghgh. (Then a cough.) Yes, I think so. Puter?
Puter: On the case.
James's screen comes up with the right one, and he pushes some buttons.
James thinks: Oh my God, I can just feel myself going really red. I just want out of this situation now, It's just so naff.
James: I think this is the one.
Miranda (with the info on the screen): Yeah that looks like it.
James: Eh? This account should be for payment to alternatives over an eight week period, and it's nearly empty already.
Miranda: Can I have a copy of that too?
James: OK.
Miranda: Great, well I don't think there's anything else.
Frame silence.
Miranda: Bye then.
James (unenthusiastically): Bye.
The window closes on Puter.
James lets out a sigh of releif.
Frame silence.
James thinks: What have you done? All you had to do was push the button. Are you really that afraid of the embarressment of being rejected? No, it's more than that. It's the fear of fancying someone and being exposed. Whatever, you are a serious git James.
Bloke: Hey Jue. Why so blue?
James: Oh. I just had a great beaver come up for me, but I didn't push the button. Heh heh. (Poor attempt at an ironic laugh.)
Bloke: Oh don't worry about that. That's no trouble. Simply ring her back. Oi Puter, get that beaver of James' back on the dog!
James titters.
Bloke: Who was she?
James: A journalist looking into Progen's account.
Bloke: Well tell her you've found something new. What did she want?
James: She's found an odd cash withdrawal.
Bloke: Lets look for some more then. We'll have you grumping her grimes in no time.
James (trying to appear uncooperative, but quite wanting to go along with it all): That was the first withdrawal from that account matey, but I think you'll have to try a bit better than that me old plate.
Bloke: Oh just tell her that that was the first withdrawal from that account at that branch. Gitface. Get James's beaver back on the dog for him will you.
Gitface: Right oh Chef. Who was she?
Bloke looks on James's screen and finds her info window still up.
Bloke: Miranda Aardvark-Wood, a journalist. And while you're at it, why are there so many Aardvark-Woods about.
James: Oh get real grandma. (But not putting up much of a fight.)
Bloke: And don't hangup if James says so, I'll speak to her - he'd hate that. Just sit down and talk to her.
Gitface: Got her. (Prints up 'Ringing her.') Wood used to be quite a common name, then a craze got started to get them to the top of lists. It was considered quite a career move. Then it got really cool for about five months, and nearly one percent of the whole of England (most of them not originally called Wood even) changed their names to Aardvark-Wood in that period. Got quite a ring to it hasn't it?
Bloke and James look at eachother, pull the sides of their mouths down, nod their heads down and go 'Ummmm' in a 'well isn't that interesting' sort of way.
Miranda then appears on in a new window. Bloke shuffles out of the way and walks away leaving James alone with her.
Miranda: Hello.
James: Err, Hello.
Miranda: Oh, hello again. What shakes?
James: Urm, something I didn't notice at the time about the account.
Miranda: Oh yes?
All the guff comes up and he pushes the Ace Date button quasi discretely, she doesn't.
James: It was the first cash withdrawal from that branch out of that account.
James thinks: Aaghgh you tit. What are you saying?
Miranda: Oh right. Well actually I don't think that's that important really.
James: Oh right oh.
Frame of silence.
Miranda: Well thanks for thinking about it anyway. Bye the.....
James thinks while Miranda's talking: Now James. Now.
James: Miranda?
Frame's silence.
James: Errr. You don't need anything else?
Miranda: That should be enough cheers.
James: Oh.
James thinks: She'll be nice. Honest.
Miranda: OK then...
James very red now: Well aren't you going to push the bloody button then?
Miranda laughs: I didn't think you were interested. Ha, ha.
Miranda pushes the button: Oh, you sweetie.
James: Sorry about all that first cash withdrawal guff. Tee Hee.
Miranda: Bless you. Where do you live then?
James: I'm out in Haslingfield.
Miranda: Oh right. I'm just off Mill Road. D'you wanta hit the Arms some night then?
James: Get a grip. All me mates'll be there. How about somewhere a tad more remote?
Miranda: Dah, we can think about that on the night. Tommorrow, eight?
James: Ahh, I've got my evening class on Wednesdays.
Miranda: Thursday then?
James: Could you not make it in about five minutes. (Giggles)
Miranda: But looking forward to it's half the fun.
James: Is it? I'm dreading it already. If it's all downhill from here maybe I won't bother.
Titters all round.
James: Nah, that's cool.
Miranda: Give James my address James so he knows where to come to.
James: So I'm picking you up then am I?
Miranda: Well the girls in the house'd laugh if I called a tank out the stix.
James: Oh cheers. Thursday at eight then.
Miranda: Yeah. See ya.
James: See ya.
The window closes.
James sitting back contented like, thinks: Get in.
A/B 7 James calls Dill, just to tell him
like.
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James: Get Dill for us Puter.
Blank frame. Do what you like with it.
Dill: Hey ma man. What shakes?
James: Guess.
Dill: Those short slitty eyed yellow people from Scruby have decided to get there own back for no one taking them seriously by opening a juvenile court where children are pulled in off the street to either stand trial, be a member of the jury, or perform one of the sundry executions that they deal out?
James: Nop.
Dill: Your boss caught you peeking at that specialist video she did a couple of years ago?
James: SHHHHH. She could well be within earshot.
Dill: Err.
James: You're never going to guess.
Dill: What's the most unlikely thing that could possibly happen? No, you haven't got a date have you?
James: The old silver tongue's still on top form.
Dill: I should bloody hope so, you haven't used it yet. In fact I'm surprised it hasn't atrophied. (Big smile comes over his face.)
James: Heh, heh, heh. Nice one.
Dill: Souperiour model you see. Lick that.
James: Miranda, a journalist.
Dill: She looking into some form of deception involving money?
James: Yeah, how'd you know?
Dill: Miranda you say. I thought it rang a bell. Of course you do know she's only going out with you to get close to me.
James: Yeah, yeah.
Dill: Oh yeah. She come round the other week trying to sell me some ivory and gold leaf.
James: At's funny you should say that cos she tried to sell me sommut too. Some enormous flowers.
Dill: What Elephant Chysanthemums?
Both Spontaineously fall into uncontrollable laughter.
James still giggling whilst Dill's gone to fetch his brown trousers: The boy Dill chips it right over, quick one two from James. Lovely finish by the boy Dill.
Dill: Isn't that a fast food equivalent of a brothel?
Continue the laughing, zoom on James falling off his chair, Dill sympathetically doing likewise. Top of both heads on screen, and cut.