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Rated: 18+ · Other · Western · #1252224
Based on an idea of single-issue story arcs, the series focusses on two mercenary cowboys.
HIRED GUNS
Issue 1
By John Alexopoulos
jkrealm@rogers.com

PAGE ONE: (4 Panels)

Panel 1:
Super high aerial shot looking down at the ground. It is the middle of relatively flat, rocky and dusty desert. It is desolate with no animal or plant in sight. Everything is baking in the noonday sun. A tiny trail of dust is kicked up behind an unknown number of riders.

Panel 2:
Shot of galloping hooves, booted and spurred feet in stirrups, dust billowing out around them.

CAP:
They say we’re living in a dangerous world.

Panel 3:
Shot from just inside a rustic town of a pair of riders splitting up. One rider (FLASH) continues towards us, while the other (El Doble) pulls off supposedly riding around the town.

Panel 4:
Shot of Flash low over his horse, riding at full speed. He is grizzled, unshaven, with grimy locks of hair winding out of his dusty and rumpled cowboy hat. His face is covered with hours of dust and dirt. Sweat runs not-so-clean tracks down his face.

CAP:
They say the only way to protect yourself, is to get a gun…




PAGE TWO: (4 Panels)


Panel 1:
Shot from behind Flash as he rides into a small western town. Scattered around the main street are up to ten Posse, mounted and on foot. They are distinguishable by their black hats and the red bandanas they wear on their faces or arms. They are all armed, and staring menacingly at Flash as he rides into town.

CAP:
… and join a posse.

Panel 2:
Flash leaps out of his saddle and off the side of his horse, pulling hard on the reins. He is in a crouch in mid-air as the scenery whizzes past.

Panel 3:
Flash is skidding along the ground, while his horse is stopping as quickly as possible. They are kicking up dust.

Panel 4:
Dust clouds around Flash and his horse as he leans forward with the reins, tying them to the watering post in front of the building they have stopped in front of.  A couple of Possemen stand on either side of the saloon doors, one with a shotgun on his shoulder, the other with a hand on the grip of his pistol.

FLASH:
Drink up Sultan.






PAGE THREE: ( 5 Panels)

Panel 1:
Shot from inside of the saloon. We can see the entire room. A frail looking man in a white apron stands behind the bar, polishing glasses. A waitress is picking up a tray of drinks. A couple dirty men, maybe mineworkers, sit at the bar heads down. One table in the corner near the door has a couple Possemen seated at its benches, three prostitutes seated with or on them. Five men are playing cards at a circular table furthest from the door. At the table are two regular Possemen, a man who looks like he may be the town baker, a thin man with a tinted green visor over his eyes, and monocle dangling from a chain, maybe a banker. The last man is a large man in a trench coat. He wears his red bandana over one eye.

Panel 2:
Flash is walking towards the bar, holding a hand up, single finger extended to the barkeep, the other patting the butt of the passing waitress, who has her head turned winking at him. 

FLASH:
Whisky.

Panel 3:
The bartender has and empty hand poised over a shot glass, as though to pour from a bottle. Flash has grabbed the bottle out of the bartender’s hand, and has already turned, tossing a gold coin over his shoulder.

CAP:
The problem is…

Panel 4:
Flash has walked up to the poker table.

FLASH:
I see you have a little game going on here boys.

CAP:
…being in a gang ain’t good for your health.

Panel 5:
Flash has slouched into a seat, and tossed a wad of brown bills on the table. Eyebrows shoot up at the thickness of it.

FLASH:
What say I buy in?





PAGE FOUR: ( 4 Panels)

Panel 1:
Exterior shot of ‘Frank’s General Goods’ store.

Panel 2:
Interior shot of the general store. There are no customers, and Frank is walking through his store, ledger in hand, doing inventory.

Panel 3:
Frank has bent over inspecting goods on a shelf.

FRANK:
hmmm, looks like were missing a little of that beef jerky. Damn kids…

Panel 4:
Frank stands upright,  and is scared shitless by El Doble’s voice. El Doble is standing directly behind him, but is off-panel.

EL DOBLE (OP):
We heard y’all had bigger problems than pilferin’ kids.






PAGE FIVE: ( 6 Panels)

Panel 1:
Standing behind Frank, is EL DOBLE. He is a dark, intimidating figure, hat low, throwing shadows across his face, body covered in a black poncho with white trim, with black spur-less boots. Under his hat is black shoulder length hair. Prominently displayed over each shoulder is a shotgun stock. Frank is looking back at him, encouraged by the hope that this man brings, but still intimidated.

FRANK:
Thank God you made it. It’s getting’ worse each day. Just yesterday, they took Donald’s eldest, and--

Panel 2:
Frank is looking at El Doble in embarrassed by his babbling, and eager to please this dark figure. El Doble’s face is still in shadow.

EL DOBLE:
--We’ll take care of that.

EL DOBLE 2:
The money?

FRANK:
The money. Of course. It’s been here quite a while, as we were expecting y’all last week.
Crow’s Hill and Dry Creek each came up with the requested sum…

Panel 3:
Frank is motioning El Doble to follow him behind the counter.

FRANK:
We’ve been quite anxious, having all this money about. It’s dangerous with those motherless curs out there.

Panel 4:
Shot over their shoulders, as Frank is peeling back a rug, revealing a trap door behind the cash register.

FRANK:
I’ll tell you, I sweat something awful when them posse walk in here, with all this here beneath my feat.

Panel 5:
Shot up out of the hatchway, Frank face is illuminated by the golden reflection coming from inside the hole. The face of El Doble, who is standing further back, is still in shadow.

Panel 6:
El Doble is reaching over Frank’s shoulder, handing him a folded sheet of paper.

EL DOBLE:
Send this to the saloon…






PAGE SIX: ( 5 Panels)

Panel 1:
Frank kneeling in front of a young teenage boy, handing him El Doble’s message.

CAPTION:
…then take the people you love and hide…

Panel 2:
Boy running through the empty streets, his shadow cast far behind him. Sundown is only an hour or two away.

Panel 3:
Flash is slumped over the table drunkenly, cards in hand, empty bottle and pile of bills in front of him.  One Posseman and the baker have left the game. One of the Possemen at the other table is passed out. There is no sign of his friend or the prostitutes. The man with the one eye is close to losing it, and the Posseman and banker are grumbling over their dwindling chips.

CAPTION:
…you’re problem will be gone by sundown.

FLASH:
Awe Lordy, I don’t mean to be a sore winner, but I was actually hoping for some sort of contest here… hehe…

Panel 4:
Flash has thrown back his head, tipping his chair back precariously, as he laughs aloud.

AFX: HAHAHAHAhaha

Panel 5:
A young teenage boy has entered the saloon and is apprehensively approaching the card table. Flash is back down safely on all four legs of his chair, head resting on the table. One hand rests on his head, the other is holding forth the empty bottle of Dr. McGill’s Restorative Whiskey Health Tonic.

FLASH: So sorry fellas, I’m ashamed to say I’ve had a bit too much of Dr. McGill’s tonic water, and, most embarrassingly, it has affected my good judgement and greater social skills, and for this I seek your pardons.

Pftt…







PAGE SEVEN: (6 Panels)

Panel 1:
The boy hands the message to the seemingly sleeping Flash, whose head is resting sideway on the table.

CAP:
Posse’s have changed. Used to be that they’d ride randomly, from town to town, looting, raping, and killing, leaving a trail of human devastation behind it…

Panel 2:
Still resting his head on the table, Flash opens the note, and reads it sideways. The three others, the Acountant, One-eye, and the Posseman are looking at him impatiently, furiously, and coldly.

CAP:
Nowadays, these new posses’ll stake their territory, say two or three small towns.
Then they’ll just patrol them, slowly sucking them dry…

FLASH:  haha-hunh. That figures.

Panel 3:
Flash pulls the boy’s head close to his, and whispers to him

CAP:
…and only killing when it’s necessary…

Panel 4:
Flash sits upright, and looks bleary and red eyed at the men off-panel. The boy is going full speed out the front doors.

CAP:
…or pleasurable.

FLASH:
Well, I’m sorry partners, but my accountant is calling, and I’m afraid I gotta go--

Panel 5:
Shot of One-Eyes disbelieving face.

ONE_EYE:
What? You ain’t leaving the table like that. We have gambling to finish.

Panel 6:
Flash is holding his hands up, mockingly surrendering to the pressure. He has a big smile on his face.

FLASH: Your right my friend, it would be an insult if I left with this game when the outcome is still in the balance--

BWAAAHAAA!







PAGE EIGHT: (5 Panels)

Panel 1:
Cards have been dealt to the players, while Flash, apparently bored with the end of the game, talks on.

FLASH:
After this here game, it’s the open dessert for me. I’m not a fan of travelling these part in the dark, but what my accountant wants, my accountant gets.

We hear-- my accountant and myself that is-- that there’s whole flocks of gangs out west where we’re headed.

Panel 2:
Flash is collecting the pot from the last hand, talking away without really looking at the others.

FLASH:
What a sorry bunch they are, the Posses. Bunch of baby killing thieves they are.

Panel 3:
Flash slaps his hand into the pile of money, sinking it down, until his entire hand is easily covered by the paper bills. Some puff in the air and trickle on the ground

FLASH 1:
But the boss tells me to ride, I ride… he’s the one who controls the money.

FLASH 2:
Pee-yew boys, I don’t know which stinks worse, yer poker games, or yer asses, but I’m leaving here rich either way.

Panel 4:
One-Eye is looking smugly at Flash, perhaps thinking of how it will feel to kill this man tonight, in his camp in the desert. Him and his accountant. Flash still has his hand in the pile of bills.

FLASH: You know, my accountant was telling me about this one Posseman, this head honcho, real tough guy with a chip on his shoulder. Lost his eye to a man, and had a grudge to settle…

Panel 5:
One-Eye is staring at Flash in angry disbelief.  But Flash, looking at his cards, is oblivious.

FLASH:
… so this Honcho, this one-eyed GIMP, decides to go to the man’s home while he’s out. Once he’s there, he kills the man’s children, then  puts a bullet in his wife’s skull. Then that petty FREAK gets his ball-less posse and waits outside for the man to come home. They wait for him to discover his family dead, and then, like the yellow bellied cowards they are, they kill him from the shadows.






PAGE NINE: ( 5 Panels)

Panel 1:
One-Eye has stood up, knocking his chair back. His face is distorted with rage. He has drawn his revolver and is pointing it at Flashes head. The Posseman is standing up, and has pulled out his revolver. The accountant , his few remaining bills in hand, heads for the door.

ONE-EYE 1:
ENOUGH!

ONE-EYE 2:
I don’t know who sent you here to make a fool of me, but all you’ve done is bought your plot. You stupid drunk. You’re full as a tick, and disrespecting the man who controls everything from here to Dry Creek.

ONE-EYE 3:
Fool.

Panel 2:
Staring straight up the barrel and at One-Eye’s face.

One-Eye:
Anything to say before I paint the walls with your brains?

Panel 3:
Close-up of Flash’s face. He is smiling confidently.

FLASH 1:
Yeah.

FLASH 2:
Click.

Panel 4:
One-Eye, leans forward, sneering at Flash, and his wasted ‘last words’. He has pulled up his gun a bit, pointing it at the ceiling. The Posseman is totally baffled.

ONE-EYE:
Click?

Panel 5:
One-Eye’s eye is wide in surprise, gun still aimed in the air. Comprehension is just dawning on the Posseman, as the click from the cocking of a hammer sounds from Flash’s hand, buried under the pile of money.

AFX:
Click




PAGE TEN: (1 Panel Splash)
Title Page
HIRED GUNS
WRITER: JOHN ALEXOPOULOS

Panel 1:
Paper money has exploded from on top of Flash’s hand, as he fires his gun, previously hidden under his winnings. One-Eye, shot in the head, is falling backwards in his chair, blood spraying into the air from his head. The  Posseman looks on in shock.

AFX:
BAM







PAGE ELEVEN: (6 Panel)

Panel 1:
Flash kicks up the table, knocking the Posseman’s gun arm to the side. Coins, bills, cards and drinks fly everywhere.

Panel 2
Flash is pistol-whipping the large Posseman in the nose. The man is falling backwards.

Panel 3:
Flash, as he walks past the fallen man (op), points his gun down and pulls the trigger.

Panel 4:
Thin panel sandwiched between panels 3 and 5. Panel filled completely by AFX

AFX: BAM

Panel 5:
Panel is similar in shape and composition as to panel 3. As he steps past the body, a stream of blood shoots straight into the air, head height.

Panel 6:
Called from behind, Flash twists to see the previously passed out Posseman, leaning on his table, gun pointing drunkenly in Flash’s direction Flash.

POSSE:
HEY--







PAGE TWELVE: ( 4 Panels)

Panel 1:
Behind Flash, a bottle on the bar shelf  and the mirror behind it are shattered by the stray shot of the drunken Posseman. Flash’s quick response sends the man falling down, clutching at his fatal wounds.

AFX:
BANG  (Posseman’s gun)

SMASHHHHHHHHHH  (bottle)

BAM 
BAM  (Flash’s gun)

Panel 2:
Close up of Flash looking over his shoulder alarmed at the call. AFX sandwiched between panels 2 and 3.

NUDE POSSEMAN: (op)
HENRY--

AFX:
BAM
BAM

Panel 3:
The fat Posseman that had been with the prostitutes had appeared naked out of a doorway along the overlooking second floor with his gun. Shot in the head by Flash’s quick reaction, he is crashing through the banister above the barroom, leaving a cloud of bloody mist in his head’s wake. His gun is gripped in his hand as he falls.

Panel 4:
Zoomed in closer to the top floor. Standing in the doorway, covered in a light spray of blood is one of the prostitutes that were at the table. Her jaw is dropped and she looks ‘shell-shocked’. Inside the open doorway, the other prostitute is looking out from atop bed.







PAGE THIRTEEN: (4 Panels)

Panel 1:
Large shot of the devastation in the saloon, similar in composition to Page 3 Panel 1 . One table in the corner, is knocked aside, cards, money and broken drinks cover two dead Posse who lie near it. A broken and bloodied banister on the second floor begins a trail of dripping blood that ends on the faceless, naked Posseman, slumped in an unnatural pile on a shattered table in the barroom. In the middle the chaos is Flash, and reloading his six-shooter as the spent shells are still falling to the floor.

Raising his head enough to look over the bar top is the bartender. He is looking shaken and surprised to be alive.

AFX: (Outside)
BOOOOM

Panel 2:
Flash holsters his pistol, and stands tall, almost hero-like… almost.

Panel 3:
Flash kicks open one of the swinging doors, as he stands at the doorway. Behind him the bartender sinks down once again behind the bar.

Panel 4:
Flash has exited and the bartender is once again completely protected beneath his bar.






PAGE FOURTEEN: (6 Panels)

Panel 1:
Looking from the Saloon towards bakery directly across the street. The bakery is a two story building with a large stone chimney making up the entire right wall of the building (for the large oven). The front of the building has the front door, and two picture windows on the bottom story. Above the awning that shelters the storefront, two smaller, more traditional home windows dot the upper floor.

A few Posse can be seen walking the street.

CAPTION:
Moments earlier

Panel 2:
Slightly zoomed in shot bakery focusing on the upper story. A glint off a metallic object in the leftmost of the opened windows…

Panel 3:
The source of the glint is revealed.  Close up shot, up the iron sights of a rifle, at the shadowed face of El Doble.

Panel 4:
El Doble is on one knee, aiming a Winchester rifle out of the window.  Not much is visible besides El Doble, the window and its curtains.

Panel 5:
The two Posse are still outside the saloon doors. One is sitting against the wall, passing a brown bottle up to the other Posseman, who is standing, shotgun slung over a shoulder.

Panel 6:
Shot from El Doble’s window, looking at the saloon-front. A shot has sounded inside. The standing Posseman looks towards the saloon  mid-swig, spilling the liquor. The other Posse is struggling to rise.

AFX:
POP






PAGE           FIFTEEN: (4 Panels)

Panel 1:
Close-up of El Doble’s low hat and shadowed face, aiming down the barrel. There is light from a muzzle flash.

AFX:
KRAK

Panel 2:
Shot of El Doble’s hands working the lever-action reload.

AFX:
CH-CHK

Panel 3:
Tighter shot of panel 1. The light from the rifle’s muzzle is reflecting in El Doble’s eyes. Two spots of light in the shadow.

AFX:
KRAK

Panel 4:
A group of four posse, down the street turn at the sound of gun fire. A burst of muzzle-flash is visible from the bakery window. Besides that group, a couple others can be seen in the immediate area.

AFX: (from window)
CRACK
CRACK

AFX: (non-directional)
POP
POP

Panel 5:
One Posseman is heading straight for the saloon, but is gunned down short of the steps. He falls near the bodies of the two doorguads, in front of the saloon. Other Possemen are taking cover. One with his red bandana on his hat, REDHAT, is pointing out El Doble.

AFX:
BLAM

REDHAT:
He’s in the bakery!

Panel 6:
El Doble is diving away from the window, rifle tossed aside, as the window implodes, and dozens of bullets punch holes through the wooden walls.

AFX:
CRSHHHHHHHHH

POP
POP
BANG






PAGE SIXTEEN: (3 Panels)

Panel 1:
REDHAT is stepping forward, hold up a hand to cease fire. The others hold up. We can see the devastated second story. Large chunks of wall have been blasted out, and the entire wall is bullet riddled

REDHAT:
Alright boys, I think we gottem’.

Panel 2:
The Posse is chuckling amongst themselves. REDHAT has turned from the bakery and puts his hand on another posseman’s shoulder.

AFX: (Posse laughter)
HEHEHEHEHE

REDHAT:
Good job boys.

So who wants to go in and pick up the pieces--

AFX: (op)
CRSHHHH

Panel 3:
The stunned Posse look back at the Bakery. Out of the second floor, El Doble, poncho sailing behind him and dual shotguns over his shoulders, has leapt through what remains of the wall, and over the awning, to the other, stone-chimney side of the bakery.







PAGE SEVENTEEN: (6 Panels)

Panel 1:
El Doble is taking cover behind the stone wall that makes up one side of the bakery. The Posse isn’t visible around the corner, but small flashes from ricochets bounce off the wall’s corner.

AFX:
TIK
CHK
PTEE

Panel 2:
El Doble is reaching to his two hip holsters, for his two pistols. Bits of stone are chipping off the wall.

AFX:
PTIK
CHK

Panel 3:
Three Possemen (in the foreground) fall as El Doble (in the background)leans around the stone wall and fires with both pistols.

AFX:
BAMBAM
BAM
BAMBAM
BAM

Panel 4:
REDHAT turns to another Posseman.

REDHAT:
Give him a stick.

Panel 5:
Shot from El Doble’s angle, he is peaking out at the Posse, but they are all under cover. The two AFX come from behind El Doble.

AFX:
THUD

TSSSSSS

Panel 6:
A stick of dynamite burns at El Doble’s feet. The wick is almost burnt to the stick.

AFX:
SSSSSSSSSS…






PAGE EIGHTEEN: (4 Panels)

Panel 1:
An explosion beside the stone wall of the bakery caves in the wall of the building beside it. Just ahead of the fiery explosion,  El Doble dives into the street.

AFX:
BOOOOOM

Panel 2:
Shot low to the ground, looking through the feet of the Posse that has lined up in front of El Doble. El Doble is on hands and knees, trying to rise, but clearly stunned by the explosion.

REDHAT:
Alright boys, lets finish him this time.

Panel 3:
Shot of line of Posse (only eight remaining) , guns lowered, ready to fire. Behind them, a boot kicks the saloon door off its hinges and it flies towards the Posse.

AFX: (posse laughing)
HEHEHEHEHEHEHE--

Panel 4:
REDHAT is hit in the head by the flying saloon-door, which ricochets away. The Possemen are stunned, seeing their man crumpling.

AFX:
THUD








PAGE NINETEEN: (6 Panels)

Panel 1:
El Doble is on his hands and knees, one hand held out, giving the A-OK sign, despite being severely hurt. His hat is on ground beside him, but his face his hidden by his hanging hair.

FLASH: (OP)
I see you’ve got these boys on the ropes El Doble. Do you want me to jump in or let you finish this?

Panel 2:
Flash walking from the saloon door to the road, placing the Posse between himself and El Doble (op). The Posse is turning to cover the newcomer.

FLASH:
You got it partner.

Here’s the bargain gang…

Panel 3:
Flash has stopped in the middle of the street, ready to draw.

FLASH:
Your time as bandits and gang men has come to an end. I’m giving what’s left of your Posse a chance that I didn’t give cyclops….

Panel 4:
Shot of the faces three Possemen. One is SCARED, the others stare defiantly.

FLASH: (op)
… drop your guns and you’ll live.

Panel 5:
Shot of El Doble standing up, hat back on, two sawed-off double-barrel shotguns aimed at the Posse. Some Possemen are turning, surprised to see him up and aiming at them.

FLASH (op)
Otherwise, we’re going to do what we’ve been hired to do.

Panel 6:
Shot of several Possemen’s face’s. SCARED, and the others have varying degrees of anger, determination, or cockiness in them.




PAGE TWENTY: (6 Panels)

Panel 1:
Flash is standing, in front of the setting sun. He is only a silhouette: a man, his hand near his holster, ready to draw. Desert stretches out all the way to the horizon, a world of light and shadows.

Panel 2:
Close up of a pair of eyes, looking over a red bandana. Squinting, getting ready…

Panel 3:
A hand, red bandana at the wrist, is grabbing a pistol from its holster…

Panel 4:
Shot from directly in front of El Doble’s two shotguns. Revealed by the low setting sun, we can see his grim mouth and jaw line, a handle bar moustache growing into his mutton chops. Fire spews out of his double barrel shotguns.

AFX:
CHOOM-CH-CHOOM
CHOOM-CH-CHOOM

Panel 5:
Flash is leaning forward, his gun sweeping a small arc as he fires off successive shots.

AFX:
BAM
BAM
BAM
BAM
BAM

Panel 6:
Close up of the terrified face of the SCARED. His mouth, and eyes are wide, as though he is screaming silently. Blood is splattered on his face.











PAGE TWENTY-ONE: (5 Panels)

Panel 1:
Panning away and up, we look down on the twisted and bloodied bodies of all the Posse surrounding the standing, terrified, sole surviving Posseman, SCARED.

Panel 2:
Side shot of Flash aiming his smoking gun at SCARED. While it’s not billowing, the smoke is streaming evenly out of his pistol.

FLASH:
Drop your gun. And your bandana.

Panel 3:
Close up of a gun and bandana falling at the SCARED’s feet.

Panel 4:
Flash has placed the smoking barrel of his gun in the SCARED’s mouth. Behind Scared, El Doble has turned away, holstering his two shotguns.

FLASH:
Now, here’s the opportunity that all of your friends were too stupid to take. You’re going to leave here. Now. And while your running, you’re going to tell any Posse, Swindler, or Gang that you see that El Doble and his friend are coming.

Panel 5:
Gun still in his mouth, tears are streaming down the SCARED’s face. Smoke is coming out of his mouth and nostrils.

FLASH:
And when you’re done running, you’re going to settle down, and become a priest, or a teacher. Something to keep you out of trouble, cause when we meet again, you won’t get  another chance…







PAGE TWENTY-TWO (5 Panels)

Panel 1:
SCARED running wildly into the desert.

CAP:
…now run for your life.

Panel 2:
Night has fallen on the small town. Outside the brightly lit tavern, El Doble and Flash are preparing to leave. El Doble is mounted, staring ahead, patiently. Flash is beside Sultan, talking to the bartender and Frank.

FLASH 1:
Strip the bodies. Any valuables are probably yours anyway. Use the cash to repair the damage. Share whatever’s left. The horses too.

FLASH 2:
The rest, burn it. The bodies, the clothes, everything.

Panel 3:
Flash has a foot in a stirrup, pulling himself up into this saddle. Frank is stepping forward, arms outstretched, thanking  Flash.

FRANK:
We’re all very thankful for your services. Please if you ever need anything--

Panel 4:
Flash spurs his horse forward, his and El Doble’s horses are walking away from the men and the light of the saloon. (LETTERER NOTE: Make the last words, “HIRED GUNS” in a funky western font, similar to the series title)

FLASH:
You paid us to do a job. We’re just HIRED GUNS.
© Copyright 2007 Johnny A (johnnya at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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