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In an attempt to change up the way we make story arcs, I suggested to Locke that he write one as a short story. I would then clean it up and repackage it as comics. We talked about it a bit in this podcast. Now that the arc is done, I thought I’d share the original story. You can see that I changed up some of the scenes and dialogue and even added entire sections.

Here’s Locke’s original story:

A week had passed, and Tika was no closer to finding another job. What bothered Alice the most was the carelessness that Tika displayed towards the job hunt in itself. It seemed that she had all the time in the world now for her pranks. It was on a rainy day that Alice decided to confront Tika about finding work. Tika picked Alice up from work like she always did, and Alice had thought all day about how she could convince Tika that she needed to put a serious effort into finding work.

The wipers whirled incessantly in a fruitless battle against the rain, and Tika felt the silence between them annoying.
“Alright, what’s wrong.”
“It’s been a week, have you found anything?”
“Meh, it’s not that big of a problem, is it?” asked Tika. “I finally have time for my reading.”
“Tika!”
“Come on, I’m looking, okay?”
“How can I be sure you’re taking this seriously? You NEVER take anything seriously!”
“You think it’s easy? I’ve been searching all over town for a job. It’s not like I’m going to just trip over one.”
“Tika, keep your eyes on the road!”
“I’m sorry things aren’t working out for us,” said Tika, annoyed. “But you really need to just relax and let me take care of it!”
“Tika, please!”
“Jobs don’t just come outta nowhere, okay? They don’t just spring outta the ground!”
Alice barely mode out the outlines of someone in the rain before she yelled out,
“TIKA SLOW DOWN!”
A prominent thunk sounded as the car screeched to a stop.
“Uh-oh,” said Tika squinting past the windshield.

The rain poured down on a man wearing a brown coat, white shirt and red bow tie. Lying somewhere away from him was a crumpled fez.
“You hit him,” said Alice
“tapped him-” corrected Tika.
“You hit the Doctor.”
“Uuuuugh,” said the man.
“Good, he’s still alive,” said Tika darkly, “Get the shovel out of the trunk, I want to enjoy this.”
“Tika! Don’t mind her, are you alright?”
“Hey,” said Tika. “We know this guy…it’s Steve!”
“Steve?”
“He was in our Progressive Breadcore band. You remember, back in College?”
“That terrible music you used to play on weekends? Yeah, I remember.”
“He was the drummer, Electric Cinnabuns.”
“Party…” moaned the man.
“Still the same old Cinnabuns! What a wild guy!”
“No, you idiot, I’m hosting a party, I can’t be late.”

Back in the car, Steve nursed his broken arm as they sped along to the mentioned party.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to take you to the hospital?”
“Oh, you’re taking me there, AFTER you help me at this party…”
“Well, just so you know, Steve, I haven’t touched a bass in years.”
“I’m not playing a show, Tika, I’m mixing drinks. Only now my arm’s broken, so you two will have to do it.”
“It’s not all bad, you still have the other one, don’t you?”

At the party, Steve leaned against the back wall, slowing becoming delirious with the pain.
“Hey, is he okay?” asked a man drinking from a blue cup.
“He’s alright, he had a little bump on the way over here.”
“I can’t feel my fingers,” said Steve.
“Quit being a baby,” snapped Tika.

When Steve next opened his eyes, he was in a hospital bed, bandages wrapped around his arm.
Tika and Alice were there, along with a Doctor.
“You’re a very lucky young man, I’m told you were hit by a car. I hope you got the license plate number.”
“No,” said Steve, looking at Tika. “No, I just missed it.”

“Why didn’t you rat me out?” asked Tika.
“You handled yourself well under pressure,” said Steve, leaning back into his bed. “and helped me out there.”
“Glad we’re even,” said Tika, turning to leave. “See ya around, Steve.”
“Uh, uh, get back here. I can’t return to work like this. You’re gonna have to help me around until my arm heals.”
Tika looks down, disappointed she’d been caught.
“Don’t look so sad. Listen, I’ll pay you what I can. And if you do well, maybe there’ll be a job for you when you’re done.”
Tika thought about it for a moment, and saw no other answer.
“Alright, I guess I owe you that much.”

Tags: hospital, steve, tika

This entry was posted on Monday, November 12th, 2012 at 12:00 am and is filed under Comics. You can follow any responses to this entry through the
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