WALKING MY WEASELS BACK HOME
C 2000, Mark Barnard/Terrie Smith

** Extra story for the first HAVOC, INC Trade Paperback **

PAGE ONE:

UPPER TIER RIGHT PANEL (half across the page and half down it): Shooting along the curved length of the Half Moon, the forward landing strut in  the foreground and one of the rear supporting fins in the background at the right. Night exterior shot.

UPPER TIER RIGHT PANEL (ditto dimensions): High shot of Deck at his desk, a sea of jumbled invoices and other bits officialdom strewn around the tabletop. To one side, Chester's stretching and curling his tongue up and back in a profound yawn.

DECK (thinking): $350,00 credits taken IN, $420,000 going out. I think I see a problem here.

CHESTER: <yawwwn> Come ON, Chris! The night is young!

BOTTOM TIER PANEL (across the page): Deck looking up at Chester, who's leaning lightly against the side of the desk, supported by one hand. He's nonchalant to the point of madness. Orb hovers to one side.

DECK: Oh, joy! That just means I have all that much MORE time to try to make some sense of this month's receipts.

CHESTER (this sounds somewhat less than he'd hoped for): Borrrring!

PAGE TWO

UPPER TIER LEFT PANEL: Chester, looking seductive and wheedly, as Orb swings in close.

CHESTER: Wouldn't you rather be hitting the trendy nightspots - proudly showing me off to the dazzled crowds?

ORB: So, it's business as usual, is it?

UPPER TIER RIGHT PANEL: Chester, getting in Orb's "face."

CHESTER: And if YOURE very lucky, maybe we'll take you along. I'm sure at least one of the places we'd stop at would appreciate a good pinata!

ORB: Hmmph!

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL: Deck, reacting to the combatants in the near background. This isn't making his job any easier.

DECK: Quiet, Orb! Ches, things are worse than I've ever seen them.

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: Chester, returning his attentions to wheedling.

CHESTER: Is it really that bad? Nothing my little Man Of Numbers can't fix?

DECK: Well...

BOTTOM TIER LEFT PANEL: Facial of Deck, looking a bit drained.

DECK: ...if we can hold out to the end of the month, we'll start showing a profit again.

CHESTER (beaming): Well, there you ARE!

DECK: BUT...

BOTTOM TIER RIGHT PANEL: Chester, looking concerned, as Deck tokenly organizes a stack of papers.

CHESTER: 'But' what?

DECK: That leaves us penniless for the next four days. No going out, no exotic purchases and, in particular, no...

PAGE THREE:

UPPER TIER LEFT PANEL: Close shot of a pouting Chester, arms crossed.

CHESTER: No FUN!

UPPER TIER RIGHT PANEL: Deck, looking apologetic, as Chester looks slightly perkier.

DECK: Sorry, Ches, but we just can't afford an evening of wild abandon.

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL: Deck sitting and entertained, as Chester is cutely sulky.

CHESTER: <sigh> I had my blue velvet outfit laid out, too. First we'd have stopped for a light dinner and some dancing.

DECK: Do tell.

BOTTOM TIER LEFT PANEL: Chester, visibly getting into his fantasy. This is almost by-rote, from a thousand previous evenings all more-or-less engineered around this formula.

CHESTER: First a little dinner. Something light, yet invigorating.

DECK: Mmm.

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL (to the bottom of the page): Chester, in the foreground, pirouetting in n imagined dance. Deck, enjoying this, watches from his seat n the background.

CHESTER: Then an evening of dancing at the most fashionable nightspot in the city! Naturally, I'd turn heads!

DECK: Goes without saying.

PAGE FOUR:

UPPER TIER LEFT PANEL: Deck, sitting, as a dreamily smiling ringtail bends backwards to gaze up into his eyes.

CHESTER: I might have even let you DIP me!

DECK (in mock shock): No!

UPPER TIER RIGHT PANEL: Chester, settling on the arm of the canine's chair.

CHESTER:  How can you say 'no' to an evening of delights like that?

DECK: It's not me, it's the bank! We'll make do.

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL: Deck, looking helpful, as he proposes the unthinkable. Chester is unconvinced.

CHESTER: How?

DECK: Wellll...you just need to try some cheaper ways to have fun. YOU know! The Simple Joys!

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: Chester, unconvinced.

CHESTER: VASTLY overrated. Any other suggestions?

BOTTOM TIER PANEL (across the page): Deck, leaning back. He knows this is going to be difficult. Chester is ready and waiting.

DECK: Well, read a book...

CHESTER (ready for this): I've read one. The butler did it.

DECK: Spend some quality time in your treasure room.

CHESTER (balloon one): Everything's already triple polished! Which reminds me, I need more silver polish.

PAGE FIVE:

UPPER TIER LEFT PANEL (half down the page): Deck, frowning a bit. Chester is unperturbed.

DECK: Now, that's just what I'm on about!

CHESTER (innocently): I'm sorry. You were saying?

UPPER TIER RIGHT PANEL (half down the page): Deck, one hand to his head, looking slightly weary.

DECK (faintly): I dunno'. I'm starting to get a little vague on that.

CHESTER: Sorry. Continue, Professor!

MIDDLE TIER PANEL (across the page and to the bottom, with an insert of a wincing Chester on one lower corner): Deck is out of ideas. Skit and Scoot gleefully lunge into his lap.

DECK: LOOK, if you're really desperate, you can...OWWW!

SKIT & SCOOT (shared balloon): Whee!

INSERT: Chester, wincing sympathetically.

CHESTER: Ouch!

PAGE SIX:

UPPER TIER PANEL (across page and half way down it): Chester walking through a darkened area of the spaceport. A line of closely set sheds with a couple of oil drums standing in front of them are at scene left. A wire mesh fence extends forward on the right, from the near shed to the edge of the panel. Chester is slowly passing these, looking disgruntled. Before him, loping happily at the end of long leashes, are the weasels.

CHESTER (thinking - balloon one): 'If you're really desperate, you could always take the weasels for a little walk." 

CHESTER (thinking - balloon two): This is NOT my idea of a good time!

BOTTOM TIER LEFT PANEL: Chester, standing slightly off balance and staring at the weasels, who're lined up in the foreground, yapping like small, demented dogs.

SKIT & SCOOT: Yapyapyap!

CHESTER: ?!

NOTTOM TIER RIGHT PANEL: Chester looking uncomfortable. This is all getting a bit TOO weird.

CHESTER (thinking): I know better than to ask! I don't really WANT to ask! But, if I DON'T...

PAGE SEVEN:

UPPER TIER LEFT PANEL (half way down the page): Chester, fists on his hips, staring suspiciously, as one of the weasels turns to offer an explanation.

CHESTER (disbelievingly): WHAT are you to doing?!

SCOOT: We play 'watchdogs'!

SKIT (correcting): Yapyapya....FIERCE watchdogs!!

UPPER TIER RIGHT PANEL (half down the page): Chester, looking pained. This is not something he's at all used to.

CHESTER:  Right. What brought this on?

SCOOT: Is game we play when we alone in office! Someone rattle door knob, we make LOTS of noise!

BOTTOM TIER LEFT PANEL: Chester thinking, close shot.

CHESTER: Well, that would explain why the landlord now MAILS us the rent notices, and why we've suddenly stopped getting special deliveries!

SKIT (off-scene): Yapyapyapyapyapyap!

SOUND EFFECT (off-scene): Grrr?

BOTTOM TIER RIGHT PANEL: Chester in foreground and to one side, looking off to one side and back. The weasels are there, before the wire fence, and a large and peevish dog is now leaning close, on the other side of the barrier.

CHESTER (undertone): Um, guys? I think that'll be enough of that.

DOG: GRRRRRRRRR!

PAGE EIGHT:

UPPER TIER LEFT PANEL: Low POV shot of the happy weasels leading the way along the fence. Chester looking toward the large dog, trails along behind. The fence is still to the right as a barrier.

SKIT (happily - this is great sport): What harm? Is FUN!

SCOOT: Big doggie no match for us!

UPPER TIER RIGHT PANEL: The fence abruptly ends. The weasels are stock still, and Chester, grimacing, is looking at the dog, whose head is protruding through the opening at the extreme right foreground.

CHESTER (thinking): EEP!

MIDDLE TIER LEFT PANEL (to bottom of the page): A harried Chester, weasels gathered in his arms, hurdling an oil drum and upsetting it, as the dog lunges in pursuit from not far behind.

SOUND EFFECT: SNARRRL!

MIDDLE TIER RIGHT PANEL: Chester, largely in silhouette, vaulting a length of fence.

SOUND EFFECT: ROWR-ROWR-ROWR!

BOTOM TIER RIGHT PANEL: Reverse shot, over the dog's head, as Chester sprints along, not all that reassuringly far ahead.

PAGE NINE:

FULL-PAGE PANEL (interior of the bridge): Deck, sitting in his seat, leaning forward in alarm. Chester, shoulders up around his face and his arms extended straight at his sides (hands locked in fists). He's scowling and his clothes are filthy and torn. The weasels' leashes are wrapped criss-cross around him, with the weasels dangling head-down above the deck and swinging slowly from side to side.

DECK: Good lord! What happened to YOU!

CHESTER (balloon one): Don't...say a WORD! I need a hot bath and a VERY stiff drink! 

CHESTER (balloon two): About four hours in bubbles should do the trick, and you're going to wait on me hand and foot!