DETAIL.

Detail

By Robert Smith

PAGE ONE [5 panels]

Panel 1. A bare left foot hits the dark ground , then

Panel 2. a right foot lands ahead,

Panel 3. left foot advances,

Panel 4. right foot...

Panel 5. High angle behind a half-nude female as she tears ass into darkness, filling out--deliciously--a mini-t-shirt with a gaping hole, and striped boxer shorts. Ominous sounds echo all around...

SFX(OP): Growwwl!!!

SFX(OP): Grrrrrrr!!!
























PAGE TWO
Full-page shot: straight on with a buxom young woman in an Olympic-level run, focused, bosom flopping wildly, two pairs of sinister, red eyes pierce the kettle-black background (b.g), saliva glistening in the slight moonlight from either side.










































PAGE THREE [4 panels]

Panel 1. She pushes the envelope, thighs extra-muscular for a woman, legs pumping. She whishes past adjacent doors, then, suddenly, like a deft professional

Panel 2. she dives…

Panel 3. …off-panel(OP)...

SFX(OP): Cla-Klak!

SFX(OP): Cla-Klik!

Panel 4.Springs up, visible again, now airborne, fine-sculpted legs bent, her body positioned in a sort of aerial ballet. She clutches sexy twin semi-automatic .45's, thrusting them in the direction of those eerie (OP) noises as they close in, even louder.

SFX(OP): Growwwwwwl!!!




























PAGE FOUR AND FIVE
Double full-page shot: Her face is grimaces like a soldier in combat. Midair feat as she blasts both guns, bullets spitting out, steaming shells cart-wheeling.

SFX(OP): BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

WOMAN(thought): HOW COULD YOU?--WHY?!?






































PAGE SIX [4panels]

Panel 1. High angle behind a drove of black-clad gents in chic suits as they bee-line a long, dark corridor. A woman in a skintight gray costume leads the upper group, another in a similar black costume heads the lower.

CAP: About two hours ago...

Panel 2. Straight-on with the lower team, we recognize the focused young woman in the black costume, but not the cocky-grinned guys behind her looking like G-men knockoffs, chatting and school-girl giggling. One of them blurts out, loudening their quiet nonsense:

AGENT: YOU COOL UP THERE, 310, I AIN'T HEARD UH WORD SINCE, LIKE, H.Q.

Panel 3. Close on 310 as she whips around all irate:

310: IF SOMEONE IS IN HERE, THEY SURE HEARD SOMETHING.

Panel 4. All the fellows mock her, pretending to be scared, oohing like kids.

























PAGE SEVEN [4 panels]

Panel 1. We move before the other team, with the middle-aged, still-sexy Agent 76, a petite Black woman, as she looks over her shoulder.

76: LOOK, I KNOW YOUR VIEW IS T&A BLISS, BUT LETS PRETEND THOSE APE-SUITS COME WITH A MODICUM OF DIGNITY—ALRIGHT?

Panel 2. Back to 310, still frowning; the guys shut up.

310: --PSSH. IDIOCY IS RAMPANT.

Panel 3. 76 smiles to herself: 310's got spunk.

Panel 4. Without turning around, 76 gestures everyone to stop.

76: OKAY, WE'RE GONNA SPLIT UP--MY TEAM THE TOP HALF, 310, YOUR CLOWNS THE LOWER, ANYONE SCARED, TOO DAMN BAD, I'M LEAVIN' YOU TO IT.--GRANT MY WISH.




























PAGE EIGHT AND NINE [5 panels]

Note: Each of these panels run across both pages.

Panel 1. 76's team(Team A) searches a floor above: some enter rooms, others exit, some just stand around loafing, 76, arms folded, observes the bustle from the hall.

Panel 2. Similar situation with 310's team(Team B) below, 310 exiting a room.

Panel 3. Team A scours another floor, 76 still aloof.

Panel 4. Team B at work, 310 pointing (OP), directing an agent with a large laser rifle strapped to his back. He snaps to it, "double-timing-it".

Panel 5. Team A continues, 76 is gone.





























PAGE TEN [4 panels]

Panel 1. 310 gets in a Black loafer's face, hot, but trying to keep her cool.

310: AGENT, IF NOTHING'S BROKEN, PLEASE KEEP UP THE PACE—IT’S NOT MY CONJECTURE THAT TEAM A IS LOUNGING ABOUT.

LOAFER: CALM DOWN, BOSS-QUEEN, NOTHIN'S POPPIN' HERE.

310: ”POPPIN’”? THAT THE EXTENT OF YOUR VOCABULARY, AGENT? SIGH. ADDRESS ME CORRECTLY, AGENT, UNDERSTOOD?

LOAFER: UNDERSTOOD...

Panel 2. As 310 walks away, the loafer continues:

LOAFER:...BUT TELL ME THIS: WHY'RE WE WASTIN' TIME ON UH BOGUS SCENE?

Panel 3. 310 stops but doesn’t turn around:

310: SIGH. ORDERS DON'T NEED TO MAKE SENSE, AGENT--JUST SAVE LIVES.

LOAFER: WE BOTH KNOW IF THEY WERE REALLY HERE, AND IF THEY REACTED THE WAY WE BOTH KNOW THEM TO REACT, THEY WOULDA MET US AT THE FREAKIN' FRONT DOOR.

310: …WELL, WE'LL JUST KNOCK ON EVERY DOOR UNTIL WE GET THAT GREETING. BUT EVEN IF WE DON’T, YOU CAN HANDLE A LITTLE RUDENESS, RIGHT, AGENT?

Panel 4. Their attention shifts to Team A, suddenly on the scene. 310 speaks to the lead guy.

310: WHAT'S UP, AGENT?

LEAD GUY: IT'S A BUST.

310: THEN WE'RE PULLING OUT?--WHERE'S 76?
























































PAGE ELEVEN [4 panels]

Panel 1. Head-on with 310, the arrogant loafer behind her, leaning on a door.

LOAFER: WHAT IS THIS, AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WHERE TURDS DON'T FLOAT?--THEY CHECKED ALL THOSE FLOORS THAT FAST, SUPERHUMAN FAST MIND YOU, AND 76 JUST UP AND SPLIT? BULLSH--

310: --LET ME EARN MY PAY, AGENT, IT’S PRETTY HIGH, HOW’S THAT SOUND?

Panel 2. 310 and the lead Team-A guy.

310: ARE YOU SURE ON STATUS, AGENT--ALL FLOORS COVERED?

Panel 3. Close on the loafer as one brow rises.

Panel 4. High angle behind Team A: One guy holds a whopping, semi-automatic .357 behind his back.




























PAGE TWELVE [4 panels]

Panel 1. 310 and the lead guy.

LEAD GUY: THIS FLOOR IS.

Panel 2. 310 with some of Team B behind her. BLAM!, an agent falls, shot in the chest.

SFX(OP): BLAM!

Panel 3. Team A has a slew of guns aimed at us, including the smoking .357.

Panel 4. The loafer joins 310 , clutching two semi-auto .45's drawn.

310(to Team A): WHAT THE F#@K ARE YOU DOING?!?

LOAFER: OH-HO-HO, MAN, I'M BLASTIN' THESE BASTARDS!--

310(to the loafer): --AT-EASE THE NOISE, AGENT, WE'RE GOING TO DIFFUSE THIS.

























PAGE THIRTEEN [4 panels]

Panel 1. Overhead shot of both teams in a standoff.

Panel 2. 310’s face fails to retain stress as she clings to diplomacy.

310(to the lead guy): I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S FLOATING OR WHAT’S MARINATED IN YOUR BRAIN, AGENT, BUT LET THIS SEEP IN: IT'S OVER, PUT--THE--GUNS DOWN.--EVERYONE.

Panel 3. The loafer's itching to fire.

Panel 4. Back to the lead guy, still primed.

LEAD GUY: NEGATIVE.































PAGE FOURTEEN AND FIFTEEN [5 panels]

Note: Each of these panels run across both pages.

Panel 1. 310 hits the dirt, some Team-B guys get hit by a hail of bullets.

SFX(OP): BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Panel 2. Team A takes fire, the guy with the .357 stands bold, blasting away as his surrounding teammates get popped and topple over.

SFX: BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Panel 3. 310's on her stomach, the loafer lying nearby, dead, .45's in his hands. Bullets crowd the air above. We see the shoes of Team-B guys shuffle about, their shells dropping all around 310.

SFX: BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Panel 4. The remaining Team-B agents are mowed down with sheer ease by a sudden uncanny salvo that sweeps the hall.

SFX(OP): BRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

Panel 5. Stretching across page fifteen and most of fourteen, is a monsterous, steaming gatling gun held by an (OP) culprit.

SFX: SSSSSSSSSS


















PAGE SIXTEEN [4 panels]

Panel 1. The culprit brandishes that awesome weapon. He appears to be the only survivor of Team A.

CULPRIT: JUST YOU, MYSELF AND THE CHICK.

Panel 2. Thatr Team-B guy with the laser rifle stands behind 310 who's still on the ground, disturbed by the (OP) culprit's words.

TEAM-B GUY: YUP.

Panel 3. Medium shot on the Team-B guy as he fires on an (OP) 310.

SFX: KA-THOOM!

Panel 4. 310’s unconscious with a big smoky hole in the back of her get-up.




























PAGE SEVENTEEN [4 panels]

Panel 1. 310's worm's-eye-view of the two gents grinning.

Panel 2. Reverse POV(that of the gents) with 310 on the living room floor of one of the raggedy apartments, dressed in familiar bed-time attire, groggy, confused.

Panel 3. Back to 310's POV of the grinners.

TEAM-B GUY: DAMN, YOU MISSED IT, KICKS--JUST LIKE THAT...

CULPRIT: ...WE DIDN'T. AND WE'LL BRING YOU UP TO SPEED…IN JUST A BIT.

TEAM-B GUY:

Panel 4. Reverse POV: we see it in her face, it's dawning on her what's happened, in her enraged eyes.--The cold-blooded carnage wasn't long ago.





























PAGE EIGHTEEN
Full-page shot of an ireful 310 in midair, spin-kicking one guy while belting the s#%t out of the other, all in one deft motion, her bust out of control, barely contained by the scant garment.









































PAGE NINETEEN [3 panels]

Panel 1. The Team-B guy, mouth all bloody, scrambles on the floor, reaching for the laser rifle in the foreground(f.g.).

Panel 2. 310 mushes the culprit's head right into the sidewall of the door, spider-cracking the surface. Her victim loses teeth.

SFX: CRUUUNCH!

Panel 3. Outside the building, the moon is white and full. Charging down the side, on all fours, is a trio of what appear to be extra-hairy cavemen with fangs and dog-like tails—an ugly bunch.


































PAGE TWENTY [6 panels]

Note: All of these panels are crimson.

Panel 1. Close on someone's fear-widened eye.

Panel 2. The culprit's torn apart by an erect werewolf. We see the door is smashed to bits in the b.g.

Panel 3. 310's ambling on her backside, trying to rise even as she takes in what’s happening.

SFX(OP): AHHHHHHHHH!

Panel 4. On all fours, another werewolf peers down from the ceiling, saliva pouring down.

Panel 5. High angle shot before the Team-B guy with his laser rifle aimed at us.

Panel 6. The third wolf, near the doorway, claw-swipes at 310 who, tucked like a ball, flips through the air, up and over the beast. We hear the Team-B guy firing like crazy in her wake.

SFX(OP): KA-THOOM! KA-THOOM! KA-THOOOM!

























PAGE TWENTY-ONE [5 panels]

Panel 1We’re with 310 in a familiar scenario. She's dogging through darkness with red eyes in the dark b.g., a grisly scream from behind.

SFX(OP): ARRRRRRGGGHH!

Panel 2. Time ellipses, bringing us again to 310, airborne, legs bent in a sort of aerial ballet, firing those twin .45's.

Panel 3. Close on the six bullets in flight, the one closest to the f.g. best shows these are in fact silver bullets.

SFX: BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Panel 4. The sole wolf left charges forward like a true predator, hopping over his fallen comrade, saliva taking flight.

WEREWOLF: GROWWWWWWWWL!

Panel 5. 310 speed-climbs a dark staircase.

310 (thought): I WOULDN’T HAVE BELIEVED IT HAD I NOT, IF IWEREN’T STILL FEELING THE THOUGHT SLOGGING AROUND IN MY HEAD…76…YOU MOTHERF#%$IN’ TRAITOR…





















PAGE TWENTY-TWO [5 panels]

Panel 1. 76 is seated in an old wooden chair at the end of another long, dark corridor, looking bored, somewhat impatient, her chin propped up on her fist, just waiting, then...

Panel 2...She, without notice of provocation, emits pure, raging fire (OP) from her bare hand.

Panel 3. 310 ducks just in time for the spiraling blast to miss her and hit its intended mark: the now frying werewolf behind her. It yelps in horrid agony.

WOLF: HOWWWWLAARRRGHHH!!!

Panel 4. Medium shot, head-on, 76 now using both hands, turning up the heat to incalculable degrees, all with a sadistic expression.

Panel 5. 310's on her knees, sweat gushing out of her pores under the ridiculous heat, covered in the smoking ashes of what was once thought to be one of the most ferocious beings in the building.




























PAGE TWENTY-THREE [5 panels]

Panel 1.She stands angry and indignant before an (OP) 76, her damp clothes stuck to her body, guns clinched tightly, stoney-faced. She so wants to drill the bitch.

310: WHY?!?

Panel 2. 76 just smiles.

76: WOW, MEN MUST GO PRESIDENT-CRAZY WHEN YOU JUMP UP AND DOWN.GOOD—NIGHT, AGENT.

Panel 3. 310's grimace holds, but appears to be hiding a lot of vulnerability. The main thought coursing through her consciousness is that this bitch is somehow responsible for her being violated in the worst way, for her being raped.

310: YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DID TO ME--AND I CAN'T EVEN BLAME THEM—YOU GAVE THEM ONE OF YOUR SUGGESTIONS, YOU STUPID BITCH, YOU--

Panel 4. Over-the-shoulder shot: 76’s worm's-eye-view of 310 holding those barrels down at us. They appear extra large, piercing the frame at an angle.

76(OP): --THEY MISHANDLED A GOVERNMENT TOOL A BIT--NOTHING MORE. GROW A LITTLE, 310. GROW A LITTLE. IT ONLY TAKES A SMALL STRETCH OF YOUR IMAGINATION TO SEW TOGETHER THE PUZZLE.

Panel 5. 310's POV : 76 looks up, unshaken, but, instead, with a confident smirk. She continues her condescending-teacher role.

76: TELL ME THIS: HOW DID YOU FEEL WHEN YOU AWOKE ON THAT COLD TABLE? MORE PRECISELY: HOW DO YOU FEEL AROUND MEN NOW, WITH THOSE?...





















PAGE TWENTY-FOUR [5 panels]

Panel 1. Close on 310 visibly absorbing her words--it's as if 76 is plucking images right out of her head.

Note: This following insert is light green, denoting a flashback.

Panel 2. 310 is on an operating table in some white, sterile room, very immaculate, doctors all around.

Panel 3. Close on 76's smile—she’s touching a nerve.

Panel 4. Another flashback: 310, dressed in a normal agent attire: pleated miniskirt, blazer and tie. She looks uncomfortable as the agents in the b.g. carry on like perverted teens.

Panel 5. Back to 76. She leans back in the chair, still smiling, taunting.

76:MISCONCEPTIONS HAVE ABOUNDED SINCE THE AGENCY’S INCEPTION. YOU HAVE TO KNOW THIS.




















PAGE TWENTY-FIVE [6 panels]

Panel 1. 76 hunches over in the chair; 310 keeps her covered.

Panel 2. blood seeps from 76’S nostrils and the corner of her mouth.

76: THIS WORLD WE’RE IN REALLY ISN’T FOR THE IDEALIST.

Panel 3. 310 lowers her guns—76 is just about done.

310: No riddles, no puzzles…what’s happening?

Note: The following panels depict a past event, and are black-and-white.

Panel 4. 310 sits at a table in a cafeteria swarming with off-duty agents. A middle-aged fellow with curly hair stands
at her side with his hands in his pockets. He is agent 41, and she seems noticably comfortable in his presence.

41: GOTTA GIT UH BETTER DIET GOIN', DOE-EYES. I DON'T SEE UH SINGLE BEER.

310: RIGHT.

41: SO, YOU GOIN' WIT 76, RIGHT?--GOOD AGENT.

310: YEAH, BUT YOU'RE NOT PRIVY TO THAT. HOW--

Panel 5. Close on 41 with a cocky grin.

41: --I'MMA VETERAN, KID, REMEMBER?...LYCANTHROPES, THEN. SCARED YET?

Panel 6. 41, cupping his chin, studies her face for the answer. 310 now has her own little cocky grin.

310: OH, THE JOB'LL GET DONE--SIMPLE AS SCIENCE, RIGHT?

41: RIGHT. BUT REMEMBER, SOMETIMES WE CAN'T SEE THE ENEMY. WE GOTTA, YOU KNOW, BE AWARE O' THOSE INVISIBLE SWORDS. FOLLOW?

310: YEAH. YEAH, I DO.