2014-06-21

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<div class="post-35 post type-post status-publish format-standard sticky hentry category-graphic-novel category-preproduction category-speculative-fiction tag-indie-comic tag-indie-graphic-novel tag-josei tag-speculative-fiction tag-urban" id="post-35">

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<h2 class="pagetitle">A Proof of the 1st Eight Pages</h2>

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Posted: 10/26/2011 in Graphic Novel, Preproduction, Speculative Fiction

Tags: Indie Comic, Indie Graphic Novel, Josei, Speculative Fiction, Urban </small>

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<div class="postcomments">1</div>

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<div data-carousel-extra='{"blog_id":27721471,"permalink":"http:\/\/redamygdala.wordpress.com\/2011\/10\/26\/a-proof-of-the-first-eight-pages\/","likes_blog_id":27721471}' class="tiled-gallery type-rectangular tiled-gallery-unresized" data-original-width="614"><div class="gallery-row" data-original-width="614" data-original-height="264" style="width: 614px; height: 260px;"><div data-original-width="203" data-original-height="264" class="gallery-group images-1" style="width: 203px; height: 264px;"><div class="tiled-gallery-item tiled-gallery-item-small"><img data-original-width="199" data-original-height="260" data-attachment-id="36" data-orig-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-1.jpg" data-orig-size="686,896" data-comments-opened="1" data-image-meta="{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":""}" data-image-title="Page 1" data-image-description="" data-medium-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-1.jpg?w=229" data-large-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-1.jpg?w=614" src="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-1.jpg?w=199&h=260" width="199" height="260" style="width:199px; height:260px;" align="left" title="Page 1" alt="" /></div></div><div data-original-width="206" data-original-height="264" class="gallery-group images-1" style="width: 206px; height: 264px;"><div class="tiled-gallery-item tiled-gallery-item-small"><img data-original-width="202" data-original-height="260" data-attachment-id="37" data-orig-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-2.jpg" data-orig-size="686,885" data-comments-opened="1" data-image-meta="{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":""}" data-image-title="Page 2" data-image-description="" data-medium-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-2.jpg?w=232" data-large-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-2.jpg?w=614" src="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-2.jpg?w=202&h=260" width="202" height="260" style="width:202px; height:260px;" align="left" title="Page 2" alt="" /></div></div><div data-original-width="205" data-original-height="264" class="gallery-group images-1" style="width: 205px; height: 264px;"><div class="tiled-gallery-item tiled-gallery-item-small"><img data-original-width="201" data-original-height="260" data-attachment-id="38" data-orig-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-3.jpg" data-orig-size="687,887" data-comments-opened="1" data-image-meta="{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":""}" data-image-title="Page 3" data-image-description="" data-medium-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-3.jpg?w=232" data-large-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-3.jpg?w=614" src="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-3.jpg?w=201&h=260" width="201" height="260" style="width:201px; height:260px;" align="left" title="Page 3" alt="" /></div></div></div><div class="gallery-row" data-original-width="614" data-original-height="396" style="width: 614px; height: 392px;"><div data-original-width="307" data-original-height="396" class="gallery-group images-1" style="width: 307px; 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height:392px;" align="left" title="Page 5" alt="" /></div></div></div><div class="gallery-row" data-original-width="614" data-original-height="265" style="width: 614px; height: 261px;"><div data-original-width="205" data-original-height="265" class="gallery-group images-1" style="width: 205px; height: 265px;"><div class="tiled-gallery-item tiled-gallery-item-small"><img data-original-width="201" data-original-height="261" data-attachment-id="41" data-orig-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-6.jpg" data-orig-size="685,886" data-comments-opened="1" data-image-meta="{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":""}" data-image-title="Page 6" data-image-description="" data-medium-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-6.jpg?w=231" data-large-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-6.jpg?w=614" src="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-6.jpg?w=201&h=261" width="201" height="261" style="width:201px; height:261px;" align="left" title="Page 6" alt="" /></div></div><div data-original-width="205" data-original-height="265" class="gallery-group images-1" style="width: 205px; height: 265px;"><div class="tiled-gallery-item tiled-gallery-item-small"><img data-original-width="201" data-original-height="261" data-attachment-id="42" data-orig-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-7.jpg" data-orig-size="685,889" data-comments-opened="1" data-image-meta="{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":""}" data-image-title="Page 7" data-image-description="" data-medium-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-7.jpg?w=231" data-large-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-7.jpg?w=614" src="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-7.jpg?w=201&h=261" width="201" height="261" style="width:201px; height:261px;" align="left" title="Page 7" alt="" /></div></div><div data-original-width="204" data-original-height="265" class="gallery-group images-1" style="width: 204px; height: 265px;"><div class="tiled-gallery-item tiled-gallery-item-small"><img data-original-width="200" data-original-height="261" data-attachment-id="43" data-orig-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-8.jpg" data-orig-size="681,889" data-comments-opened="1" data-image-meta="{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":""}" data-image-title="Page 8" data-image-description="" data-medium-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-8.jpg?w=229" data-large-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-8.jpg?w=614" src="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/page-8.jpg?w=200&h=261" width="200" height="261" style="width:200px; height:261px;" align="left" title="Page 8" alt="" /></div></div></div></div>

<p>These are my preliminary eight pages of the first issue.  I specifically did these without dialog balloons and text to see if the sequence of images tell the story alone.  This was a good exercise for me to see where I need to improve the story visually.  Some standout observations.</p>

There are too many panels per page so I intend to rectify that in the pencil stage.  It is probably going to increase the page count.  If this spreads from eight to twelve pages it will be good.  If so I will have to retool my script which is currently 64 pages long for 40 page graphic novel.

These were done all digitally with a Wacom tablet directly into a graphic art program.  I want more control over my lines so the next stage is pencil on Bristol boards.  Then I’ll scan them in to Ps and ink digitally.

I want more definition in terms of how my characters look these are too generic.

I want to include clearer visual transitions or connections from one page to the next page.   To my eye the story seems to jump around and not flow linearly.

I  am exploring example of how to distort panel sequences of my characters’ memories, looking at my fav artists Dali, Kara Walker, Peter Chung (animator)

<div>Additionally I’ll work on some prelim cover ideas for the first issue and post up my ideas as I narrow in on the one I want.  I plan to ink and color all my covers by by hand.  My plans for this story is very ambitious for one person so the interior pages will be pencil, then scanned, inked and colored on computer.</div>

<div>Whew!  Go me!</div>

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<h2 class="pagetitle">Working on the first eight pages of my graphic novel</h2>

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Posted: 10/10/2011 in Comic, Graphic Novel, Josei, Preproduction, Speculative Fiction

Tags: Indie Comic, Indie Graphic Novel, Josei, Speculative Fiction, Urban </small>

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<p style="text-align:center;">SOMETIMES LIFE IS LIKE A TUBE OF PASTE, </p>

<p style="text-align:center;">WITH ENOUGH PRESSURE APPLIED IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION, </p>

<p style="text-align:center;">YOU EVENTUALLY END UP WHERE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE </p>

<p style="text-align:center;">- ROBERT HUGHES</p>

<p style="text-align:left;">I sketched out some ideas of the first page, introducing the world of Red Amygdala and the people who inhabit it.</p>

<p>Here is a more finalized inking of how the first pages will appear in the book.</p>

<div data-carousel-extra='{"blog_id":27721471,"permalink":"http:\/\/redamygdala.wordpress.com\/2011\/10\/10\/working-on-the-first-eight-pages-of-the-novel\/","likes_blog_id":27721471}' class="tiled-gallery type-rectangular tiled-gallery-unresized" data-original-width="614"><div class="gallery-row" data-original-width="614" data-original-height="429" style="width: 614px; height: 425px;"><div data-original-width="317" data-original-height="429" class="gallery-group images-1" style="width: 317px; height: 429px;"><div class="tiled-gallery-item tiled-gallery-item-large"><img data-original-width="313" data-original-height="425" data-attachment-id="24" data-orig-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/better-e1318277038658.jpg" data-orig-size="2023,2750" data-comments-opened="1" data-image-meta="{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":""}" data-image-title="Third Inking of Page One" data-image-description="<p>This is a digital inking of the initial ideas I had to start the story off. </p>

" data-medium-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/better-e1318277038658.jpg?w=220" data-large-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/better-e1318277038658.jpg?w=614" src="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/better-e1318277038658.jpg?w=313&h=425" width="313" height="425" style="width:313px; height:425px;" align="left" title="Third Inking of Page One" alt="The Citadel; the Jumping Tower; the Zone of Bones" /><div class="tiled-gallery-caption">These ideas are closer to final panels of first page of Red Amygdala.</div></div></div><div data-original-width="297" data-original-height="429" class="gallery-group images-1" style="width: 297px; height: 429px;"><div class="tiled-gallery-item tiled-gallery-item-large"><img data-original-width="293" data-original-height="425" data-attachment-id="28" data-orig-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/idea1-e1318277065899.jpg" data-orig-size="2210,3201" data-comments-opened="1" data-image-meta="{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":""}" data-image-title="Initial Ideas of Page One" data-image-description="<p>Initial Pencil Idea of the first pages of the graphic novel, Red Amygdala</p>

" data-medium-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/idea1-e1318277065899.jpg?w=207" data-large-file="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/idea1-e1318277065899.jpg?w=614" src="http://redamygdala.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/idea1-e1318277065899.jpg?w=293&h=425" width="293" height="425" style="width:293px; height:425px;" align="left" title="Initial Ideas of Page One" alt="The Citadel; Elaine Black" /><div class="tiled-gallery-caption">Initial Sketch Ideas of Page One</div></div></div></div></div>

<p>I’ve been working on conceptualizing this world and on the characters which I’ll share next time.</p>

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<h2 class="pagetitle">1st Draft of Issue One Script is Done</h2>

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Posted: 09/25/2011 in Comic, Graphic Novel, Josei, Preproduction, Speculative Fiction

Tags: Indie Comic, Indie Graphic Novel, Josei, Speculative Fiction, Urban </small>

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<p>Finished the complete 40 page outline for issue one in five days and finished the first draft of the script for the first issue in two days.   I started the outline two days before the start of class.</p>

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<h2 class="pagetitle">Creating an Indie Graphic Novel</h2>

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Posted: 09/21/2011 in Comic, Graphic Novel, Josei, Preproduction, Speculative Fiction

Tags: Indie Comic, Indie Graphic Novel, Josei, Speculative Fiction, Urban </small>

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<p>Taking a course at SVA to get my graphic novel out of my head and onto the page (PLEASE DON’T SUE ME PILAR!)  First class was this past Monday, September 19.</p>

<p>My Core Project is <span style="text-decoration:underline;">Red Amygdala</span></p>

<p>Synopsis:  <span style="text-decoration:underline;">Red Amygdala</span> is a story of a cursed book in which six people are imprisoned.</p>

<p>I’ll post ideas and sketches, updating my progress as I go along this adventure while keeping the demons of procrastination at bay as I focus on the end game, where ever that takes me.</p>

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<h2 class="pagetitle">My next graphic novel: Urban Follies</h2>

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Posted: 06/18/2014 in Comic, Graphic Novel, Preproduction

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<p>After a lot of work on my novels I am currently drawing my graphic novel short: URBAN FOLLIES. I will be finished this Fall 2014. I will post my pencil sketches later this summer. Here is the script I wrote that the graphic novel is based on. It was originally going to be a short film but I think the short stories translate better to graphic novel format.</p>

<p> </p>

<p>URBAN FOLLIES “The road less traveled probably has more potholes.” by RE Lee Registered WGAW No. 1211872</p>

<p> </p>

<p><b>FADE IN:</b></p>

<p>URBAN FOLLIES “The road less traveled probably has more potholes.”</p>

<p><b>ACT I:</b></p>

<p>EXT. ESTABLISHING CITY STREET – MORNING </p>

<p>PEDESTRIANS are hurrying to and fro in the dizzying morning rush hour. On top of a metal grate, an OLD WINO (50) awakes to the new day.</p>

<p>NARRATOR (V.O.) Let’s try a stab at honesty shall we? We’re all going to work too early, for too little pay, to jobs that don’t really matter. All of us deserve a seat as much as the next guy. But sometimes, that outcome doesn’t fall in our favor and the seating is limited. So when we walk, run, saunter, stumble or crawl into a subway car or bus, please take a moment to look at your options. A brief moment to internalize the situation before you. I have to stress brevity in this self reflection because the people waiting behind you will, given the opportunity, kill you with anything they can get their hands on. (Beat) The choice you must ponder is between standing for awhile or taking the seat between two people who are already seated, drinking their coffee and happily reading their papers. Please take that special moment to consider your body mass. We’ve all taken high school physics. At least those of us fortunate to go to schools in communities with a solvent tax base. No one is fooling Archimedes here.</p>

<p>The OLD WINO with a half eaten donut.</p>

<p>The Old Wino grabs his breakfast from the top of a garbage cup of discarded coffee and the remnants of an wipe clean and pockets the empty coffee cup.</p>

<p>NARRATOR (V.O.) (CONT’D) If you decide that you must be rude anyway, realize that you should be the one to lean forward the whole trip in order to provide oxygen to everyone you’ve inconvenienced… not the other way around. I would never assume that sitting in your lap was an option so I expect the same courtesy. Have a nice day.</p>

<p>A CITY BUS AD PLACARD ON CITY BUS WITH WHITE LETTERING: NOT A DROP TO DRINK </p>

<p>EXT. STREET – VESTIBULE OF CITY BANK – MOMENTS LATER The Old Wino stands inside the bank in the doorway. </p>

<p>A WELL DRESSED YOUNG COUPLE: A MAN AND A WOMAN (20s) walk to the bank’s entrance.</p>

<p>Before the MAN can pull out his ATM card to unlock the door, the Old Wino opens the door with a greeting, as though he worked for the bank.</p>

<p>The Man and his FEMALE COMPANION breeze by the Old Dirty Wino as though the door opened by itself. When the Man finishes his transaction at the ATM machine, the Old Wino forces them to acknowledge his presence by standing partial in their way.</p>

<p>The WOMAN grimaces with disdain.</p>

<p>OLD WINO Could your spare some change, Sir? Ma’am??</p>

<p>The Man and the Woman uncomfortably ignore the Old Wino. The Old Wino moves out of their way as the Young Couple dash past him out of the bank.</p>

<p>OLD WINO (CONT’D) You dropped something.</p>

<p>The Man and the Woman stop and turn around.</p>

<p>OLD WINO (CONT’D) Oh you heard that!</p>

<p>The Two sheepishly hurry off down the street.</p>

<p>EXT. SUBWAY STATION – AFTERNOON</p>

<p>The Old Wino stands near the entrance panhandling unsuccessfully for money.</p>

<p>He holds an empty, paper coffee cup for any contributions- -ignored by all.</p>

<p>THREE YOUNG MEN with instruments: a guitar, a flute and a bongo drum, set up near the Old Wino and begin playing music.</p>

<p>A RAIN OF DOLLARS falls into a cardboard box in front of the Musicians.</p>

<p>The WOMAN with a Kazoo lays her green shopping bag open in front of their makeshift set-up. She plays a tune.</p>

<p>A RAIN OF COINS falls into the Kazoo artist’s bag.</p>

<p>The Old Wino watches all in frustration.</p>

<p>AN ELDERLY FEMALE MIME slowly waltzes over to the melody of the music.</p>

<p>The Mime annoys everyone listening to the music but manages to “wrangle” a few dollars out of the crowd.</p>

<p>The Old Wino desperately tries to get attention from the crowd forming, playing on their sympathy.</p>

<p>The Female Mine begins to mimic the Old Wino to get even more money from the crowd.</p>

<p>Disgusted the Old Wino, walks away stuffing his paper coffee cup in his pocket.</p>

<p>OLD WINO Shoulda learnt how to play an instrument back in the day. (Beat) Naw shoulda kicked that Mine. That woulda gotten me a least a dollar. At least.…</p>

<p>EXT. DESERTED ALLEY – LATE AFTERNOON</p>

<p>The Old Wino enters the alley, grabs a milk crate and sets it up right to sit upon. He looks around at the garbage around him and sweeps some of it away from his milk crate.</p>

<p>He finds another milk crate and sets it beside the first one. He pulls a paper coffee cup from his pocket. He blows the lint from out of it.</p>

<p>EXT. DESERTED ALLEY – NIGHT</p>

<p>Under a street light, the Old Wino sits impatiently with his clean paper coffee cup waiting for someone.</p>

<p>THE PROFESSOR, a middle-age African-American man wearing a jacket, sweater and twill pants and carrying a cloth briefcase enters the alley.</p>

<p>The Professor, a scholar of literature and the arts up at the community college, which looms in the distance over looking the alley.</p>

<p>PROFESSOR I don’t know how these students graduate from high school. None of the miscreants even knew what a haiku was!</p>

<p>OLD WINO Young people do their own things these days. That they do. (Beat) I was wondering why you were taking so long with the drinks?</p>

<p>PROFESSOR I may decide to open it now. I may wait until later and drink it by myself. When you buy it then you can decide when and where to drink it.</p>

<p>OLD WINO Don’t be like that, Cousin. Don’t be like that.</p>

<p>The Professor holds the bottle in the brown bag up in front of the Old Wino’s face.</p>

<p>PROFESSOR You can’t wait to get it in your mouth, feel it going down your throat, making you feel warm inside. Look at you shaking, you need this wine so bad, don’t you? Don’t you?</p>

<p>The Old Wino turns his back on the Professor. He tries to steady himself to rise from the milk crate. He slowly rises.</p>

<p>OLD WINO I wouldn’t mind a small one.</p>

<p>The Professor smiles back and opens the wine bottle. He takes a large swig from the bottle.</p>

<p>When he finishes, he wipes his mouth with a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and holds the bottle out to his drinking companion.</p>

<p>The Old Wino reaches out for it.</p>

<p>Suddenly, the Professor pulls it back and hides the bottle under his jacket when he hears a POLICE SIREN whiz by.</p>

<p>A series of police cars flash by with lights and SIRENS.</p>

<p>PROFESSOR You know, that there is the biggest gang in the city. Protect and serve my ass. They only look out for themselves.</p>

<p>OLD WINO You ain’t wrong there. They always busting me ‘bout where I rest my bones for a spell.</p>

<p>PROFESSOR We’re no different to them… you and me.</p>

<p>The Old Wino looks off in the street still watching for police cars which are long gone.</p>

<p>The Professor, deep in thought, looks at the Old Wino.</p>

<p>PROFESSOR I’m sorry Old Folks here I go talking on and on… The Professor pulls the bottle out from under his jacket cautiously.</p>

<p>OLD WINO You got much to deal with being a busy man, I’m sure. Pay no mind ‘bout me.</p>

<p>The Professor looks curiously at the Old Wino. With his arm outstretched, he hands the bottle over to the Old Wino.</p>

<p>The Old Wine steadies his paper cup on his knee while he reaches out for the bottle.</p>

<p>Just when the Old Wino is about to take the bottle from him, the Professor deliberately lets the bottle go-</p>

<p>THE BOTTLE falls slowly-</p>

<p>Shocked the Old Wino tries to catch the bottle.</p>

<p>SMASH, glass and wine everywhere.</p>

<p>PROFESSOR We share a harmless little vice not a relationship. (Beat) A vice to which you don’t contribute a thing.</p>

<p>The Old Wino breathes heavy then pushes the Professor hard into the ground.</p>

<p>The Professor tosses and turns away from the blur of fists striking him.</p>

<p>Blood oozes from the Professor’s mouth mixing with the spilled wine on the ground.</p>

<p>Ashamed, the Old Wino stops punching the Professor and backs away.</p>

<p>PROFESSOR Help me Old Folks! Please. There’s devilment at my job and it just got into me.</p>

<p>The Old Wino hesitates.</p>

<p>He stands and looks around to see if there are any witnesses.</p>

<p>PROFESSOR Help an old… friend.</p>

<p>The Old Wino reluctantly extends a hand to aid the Professor to his feet.</p>

<p>The wily Professor bites the Old Wino’s hand.</p>

<p>The Old Wino yanks his hand away, sinks to this knees in pain, looks at his hand…</p>

<p>Deep red teeth marks on the back of the Old Wino’s hand.</p>

<p>The Professor slams the Old Wino across his back dropping him to the ground.</p>

<p>The Old Wino and the Professor tear at each other’s clothes.</p>

<p>The Old Wino grabs a metro card and a few dollars from the Professors’ torn jacket pockets.</p>

<p>The Professor tries to get his money back but the Old Wino shoves his hands away as he scrambles to his feet.</p>

<p>PROFESSOR Help me you– damn you!</p>

<p>OLD WINO (Recites) Ice tastes bitter… in the mouth of a rat… quenching his thirst. The Professor looks up aghast.</p>

<p>PROFESSOR Basho. Matsuo Basho. How… how do you know his work?</p>

<p>The Old Wino hurries off into the night leaving the Professor laying in the blood and wine cocktail in a deserted alley.</p>

<p>OLD WINO Haiku’s are best recited – sharing wine.</p>

<p><b>END OF ACT I</b></p>

<p>FADE TO BLUE DENIM:</p>

<p><b>ACT II:</b></p>

<p>BACK POCKET OF BLUE JEANS WITH WHITE LETTERING: HAROLD </p>

<p>EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING – FOLLOWING DAY</p>

<p>HAROLD (40) leaves the building, wearing neatly pressed blue jeans, perfectly shaped Afro, wearing gloves and carrying a rather large gift package.</p>

<p>EXT. STREET – DAY Harold walks many blocks past a few subway stations.</p>

<p>EXT. BUS STOP – MOMENTS LATER He stands waiting for a bus.</p>

<p>To Harold’s dismay, the first bus is covered with graffiti.</p>

<p>The FEMALE BUS DRIVER opens the bus door at looks at Harold who refuses to embark with negative shake of his head.</p>

<p>The Female Bus Driver rolls her eyes, closes the door and drives off.</p>

<p>A puff of dirty exhaust smoke.</p>

<p>Harold puts a blue respirator over his nose and mouth looking down the street for the next bus.</p>

<p>INT. BUS – DAY </p>

<p>Harold gets on the bus and dips his METRO CARD.</p>

<p>Harold wipes his gloved finger on a seat and one adjacent to it.</p>

<p>He inspects the clean gloved digit.</p>

<p>Satisfied, Harold sits down and places the large package on the seat next to him.</p>

<p>The bus pulls away from the bus stop.</p>

<p>INT. BUS – THE NEXT BUS STOP </p>

<p>A VERY FAT LADY carrying a magazine gets on the bus.</p>

<p>She walks straight to the seat with the package besides Harold.</p>

<p>FAT LADY Would you mind moving the package?</p>

<p>Harold ignores her.</p>

<p>FAT LADY (Repeats) Would you mind moving the package so I can sit down?</p>

<p>Harold looks around the bus.</p>

<p>It is completely empty, except for himself and the Fat Lady.</p>

<p>HAROLD There are plenty of other seats.</p>

<p>FAT LADY I paid my fare and I can sit anywhere I want. I want to sit there. So just move that package so I can sit down. (Beat) You can’t take two seats for one fare.</p>

<p>Harold grudgingly moves the package to other empty seat beside him.</p>

<p>The Fat Lady squeezes into the seat next to him.</p>

<p>After she has settled herself, Harold gets up and moves to another seat.</p>

<p>The Fat Lady stares at him, shrugs her shoulders, and proceeds to read her magazine.</p>

<p>Harold gla

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