Been a while since I posted last! No use in talking too much about it, just saying that I got situated in college, and I'm doing some work for the Radio station that's creating some fresh material for this blog. I still have to polish it, probably do some rewriting, but I'm pretty pleased.
In the meantime, here's more West.
Page Seven
Panel 1: Establishing shot of the Sheriff's office, with Frank standing in the middle of a crowd of ten or so. Among them are Wyatt, Hub, and any assorted townsfolk you want. Maybe reuse some designs from the saloon.
Frank: Folks, we got ourselves a helluva problem.
Frank: In a day, hell, maybe a couple of hours, the gang of outlaws and gunslingers callin' themselves the Smith brothers are gonna come down on this town.
Frank: I'm lookin' to organize a posse, hopefully to spook them off 'fore things get outta hand.
Panel 2: One of the members of the crowd speaks up, and Frank responds, looking tired and a little bashful.
Townsperson: What do they want? Why can't we jus' give it to 'em?
Frank: That's not gonna happen.
Frank: They're – they're lookin' fer mister Kearn's money.
Panel 3: Focus in on Frank. He Is full of regret that it came down to this – him having to break the bad news to the people.
Frank: An' as we just found out this morning, Mister Kearn ain't got any.
Panel 4: Reverse of the crowd, exploding into outrage, as Frank tries to keep it together.
Tailless: WHAT? But-
Tailless: How did he-
Tailless: Kearn promised -
Tailless: Where is he??
Frank: People! PEOPLE!
Panel 5: Closeup on a townsperson, livid and shouting, pointing at the camera.
Townsperson: GIVE 'IM TO 'EM! Hand that bastard over with COMPLIMENTS! Let them go with a little SOMETHIN' fer their TROUBLES!
Page Eight
Panel 1: Camera near Chuck's perspective as he comes in through the door, peering at the crowd. Frank has his arms up and out, as if trying to part the crowd of people.
Frank: I can't do that, Gord.
Frank: I'M Sheriff in Boneshade, and I got a JOB to do!
Frank: Kearn'll pay – he's wanted back east, too – but he'll pay up as the law intends!
Panel 2: Shot from above of Frank. We can barely see his face under his hat. This is meant to evoke a sense of powerlessness in him.
Frank: An' the day I turn this town over to a buncha desperadoes is the day I turn in this tin star.
Frank: If any a y'all got a problem with that, then get the HELL outta my office.
Panel 3: shot over Frank of the crowd, silent but still angry.
Panel 4: same shot, with the crowd starting to break up and move towards the door.
Panel 5: same shot. The office is now empty apart from Frank, Wyatt, and Chuck by the door. Frank is slouching with defeat.
Frank: dammit.
Panel 6: Frank is easing himself into his chair, behind his desk.
Frank: ...just...
Frank: God DAMMIT.
Panel 7: Frank holds his face in his hands, leaned way over the desk. Chuck is reaching in from off panel to place one gigantic hand on Frank's shoulder.
Page Nine
Panel 1: Frank looks up, as if seeing Chuck and Wyatt for the first time.
Chuck: We'll do our best.
Wyatt: ain't likely to be good. Never even fired a gun before.
Wyatt: ...D'you have spares?
Panel 2: Frank gets back up from the desk. He's bone tired, and can see the end fast aproaching, but by god, he's going to find the strength to meet it on his feet.
Frank: …
Frank: Yeah. I got them locked up in the back.
Frank: You'll do just fine. Better'n the folks who ain't even gonna pick one up.
Panel 3: Frank starts to unlock the door into the weapons room, while the other two stand back, talking.
Chuck: I'm with ya, Frank.
Chuck: But so y'know. This is fer you. Not fer that fat snake.
Wyatt: Likewise.
Frank: Hell, boys...
Panel 4: Frank is in the room now, tossing a shotgun to Chuck, and holding a winchester rifle in his other hand. The weapons room isn't a jam-packed armory – it's just enough battered, second hand guns and ammo to outfit arm maybe ten men. The best armaments a town like Boneshade can offer.
Frank: Don't much care why your on my side, just so long's you are.
Wyatt: They won't take long ta get here...
Panel 5: Frank is leaving the room, but we get a closeup on his hand gripping a revolver he just picked up.
Frank: We'd better get movin'. I'll meet you two on main street.
Frank: I got some brief business in the cells...
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