PANEL 1
Establishing shot - A thin man with dark hair and fair complexion, BEN, dressed in a suit and overcoat composed of only the blackest of blacks, walks down a seedy back alley towards ANDREW, an agitated Arian demigod clad entirely in denim. A large steel door looms behind Andrew.

ANDREW1: YOU'RE LATE.
ANDREW2: I WAS STARTING TO WORRY IF I WOULD HAVE TO DO THIS MYSELF.

PANEL 2
BEN has crossed half the distance to the stationary, but disconcerted ANDREW.

BEN1: NEVER GO IN WITHOUT ME.
BEN2: YOU'RE NOT READY.
ANDREW: WHAT IF THEY LEFT EARLY? WHAT WOULD I DO IF –

PANEL 3
BEN has finally made his way to ANDREW's position. However, Andrew's state of agitation does not decrease.

BEN1: FUCK 'WHAT IF'. NO TIME FOR HYPOTHETICALS.
BEN2: YOU UNDERSTAND THE PLAN?
ANDREW1: ENOUGH.

PANEL 4
Medium shot of a determined BEN, pulling a Glock from the unseen holster under his overcoat.

BEN: GOOD. NOW, WHICH ONE IS OUR GUY?

PANEL 5
Wide shot as BEN swings the large steel door open. ANDREW is reaching inside his jacket for his own weapon.

ANDREW1: I'M NOT SURE. SOME NEW GUY.
ANDREW2: HE'S SUPPOSED TO BE WEARING A RED TIE.

PANEL 6
ANDREW, with gun drawn, starts to follow BEN through the now open entrance.

ANDREW: (small) Red tie guy don't die. Red tie guy don't die. Red tie guy don't die.

PAGE TWO (Splash Page)

PANEL 1
Direct overhead shot of a circular poker table and its five CARD PLAYERS. The table is lit via an unseen lamp, directly over the table. The rest of the dimly lit room is washed in darkness. The five card players all have unique physical attributes, which are discernible (even from this overhead shot) by their unspoken nicknames: FAT, BEANPOLE, JOCK, BALDY & AFRO. (That is also the order that they are sitting) All are dressed in suits, yet only FAT's tie can be seen from overhead. Given his tremendous girth, his red tie is definitely apparent resting upon his Buddha of a belly.

BALDY: CHRIST, WHO KEEPS DEALING ME THIS SHIT?

PAGE THREE (Five Panels)

PANEL 1
An exasperated JOCK & befuddled BALDY, from the neck up.

JOCK: YOU DEALT.
BALDY1: OH YEAH.
BALDY2: WELL THEN, I'LL SEE YOUR FIVE AND RAISE TEN.

PANEL 2
From behind AFRO & BALDY magnificent heads of hair. FAT, sitting opposite them (more towards Afro), is visibly sweating at an alarming rate.

AFRO1: RIGHT. YOU HAVE SO-CALLED SHIT FOR A HAND BUT YOU RAISE TEN.
AFRO2: YOU LYING SACK OF PUTRESCENCE.
BALDY: GEEZ, MAKES ME WONDER IF THAT WAS AN INSULT? OR A BACKHANDED COMPLIMENT?

PANEL 3
BEANPOLE's face, alone in all of his skinny geek splendor.

BEANPOLE: PUTRESCENCE IS, TECHNICALLY, THE CONDITION OF BEING PUTRESCENT, WHICH IN TURN, MEANS TO BE PUTRID, WHICH WE ALL KNOW, INSINUATES SOMETHING ROTTEN AND/OR DECAYED. SO, I WOULD THINK A SACK OF THAT WOULD DEFINITELY NOT BE A GOOD THING.

PANEL 4
BEANPOLE and JOCK, from the neck up.

JOCK: SO, IT WAS AN INSULT?
BEANPOLE: YOU SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN THAT JUST BY THE CONTEXT OF HIS STATEMENT, NOT TO MENTION THE TONE.

PANEL 5
An annoyed AFRO and an almost belligerent FAT, again only from the neck up.

AFRO: IS THERE EVER A SIMPLE 'YES' OR 'NO' WITH THIS GUY?
FAT: WILL YOU GUYS SHUT UP AND FINISH THIS FUCKING HAND?

PAGE FOUR (Five Panels)

PANEL 1
A quizzical AFRO, again from the neck up. (I guess you can accuse me of writing a 'talking head' story.)

AFRO1: WHAT IS YOUR HURRY?
AFRO2: GOT A PLANE TO CATCH?

PANEL 2
FAT, drenched in sweat and trepidation, hunches forward – proudly displaying his glorious red tie.

FAT: NO, I JUST HAVE A RECTUM FULL OF PUTRESCENCE OR SHIT OR WHATEVER YOU GUYS FEEL LIKE CALLING IT AND IT WANTS TO BURST THE FUCK OUT.

PANEL 3
The manly heads of JOCK and BALDY, each stifling back a laugh.

JOCK1: GOT A BEAR TOUCHING COTTON?
JOCK2: NO WONDER YOU'VE BEEN SWEATING LIKE A PIG.
BALDY: MAKING ME FUCKING NERVOUS WATCHING YOU SWEAT LIKE THAT.

PANEL 4
The knowlegable, skinny cranium of BEANPOLE makes a return appearance.

BEANPOLE: WHY IS IT WHEN SOMEONE IS SOME TYPE OF RUSH, PEOPLE MAKE THAT SORRY 'PLANE TO CATCH' COMMENT?

PANEL 5
Pull back to reveal a full shot of BEANPOLES's upper body, revealing the fact that he too is wearing a bright red tie.

BEANPOLE: I MEAN, HOW OFTEN DO YOU REALLY HAVE A PLANE TO CATCH?

PAGE FIVE (Five panels)

PANEL 1
Pull back to reveal a full shot of a dumbfounded AFRO's upper body, revealing the fact that he too is wearing a bright red tie.

NO DIALOGUE

PANEL 2
Pull back to reveal a full shot of a dumbfounded BALDY's upper body, revealing the fact that he too is wearing a bright red tie.

NO DIALOGUE

PANEL 3
Pull back to reveal a full shot of a dumbfounded JOCK's upper body, revealing the fact that he too is wearing a bright red tie.

NO DIALOGUE

PANEL 4
Pull back to reveal a full shot of a dumbfounded FAT's upper body, reminding us the fact that he too is wearing a bright red tie.

NO DIALOGUE

PANEL 5
Again with the full shot of BEANPOLE's upper body.

BEANPOLE: AND WHY, MAY I ASK YOU DOES EVERY OTHER WORD OUT OF YOUR MOUTHS HAVE TO BE FUCK?

PAGE SIX (Four Panels)

PANEL 1
BEN and ANDREW, guns drawn, stand over the five seated CARD PLAYERS. A look of surprise appears on all their faces.

NO DIALOGUE

PANEL 2
Mirror image of PANEL 1.

FAT: FUCK.
BEANPOLE: FUCK.
JOCK: FUCK.
BALDY: FUCK.
AFRO: FUCK.

PANEL 3
Mirror image of PANEL 1 (as well as PANEL 2).

BEN: FUCK.
ANDREW: FUCK.

PANEL 4
Everything is black except for the muzzle flash of the two guns, coinciding to where they have been the last three panels.

SFX: (five separate gunshots) BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!