Hei.
Olen tässä jo puoli vuotta palloillut, että haluaisin muuttaa kirjoitamani novellin sarjakuva muotoon. Itsellä ei kynällä piirrä kuvia, niin yhteistyökumppania tarvitaan.
Tyyliltään tekstini ovat Sin City-, Brian De Palma- ja Miami Vice kategorioista rakennettu ja pyrin tarttumaan aiheisiin, jotka ovat osaksi vaikeita käsitellä, mutta osaksi koomisia. Novellini, mistä näyte on, kertoo loputtomasta itsevihasta ja siitä, kuinka asiat voivat mennä putkeen päin kynäkoteloa. Nyt työn alla oleva teksti taas kertoo syrjäytymisestä ja pedofiliasta.
Mutta clipit (tekstiä ei ole oikoluettu kunnolla):
"“They say you will feel cold, they are damn right”, she thinks. Harry Lucas sits on a nearby table and watches her bleeding body. Legs and waist nearly cut off, hand smashed. He had closed all the wounds with a small blowtorch so she wouldn’t die. He lights a smoke. “Want one” he asks. He tosses the cigs and matches next to her broken hand. “You know, you’re really fine looking… It’s kind of a shame. I would have loved to fuck you.” He makes a small ring out of smoke and puts his finger through it. “When Mendoza is done with you, he tells me to get rid of you. I get to do anything I want with you. I bet you have a really creamy pussy” he grins. She wants to take her gun. It’s only a feet away from her hand but that hand is the wrong hand. If she would turn, he would kill her. She realizes she is pinned. “Or your ass, firm and tight. I bet you didn’t think that my dick would be banging your starfish when you went to spinning. I also bet you’re still a virgin in there.” he laughs: “I’m going to fuck you time and time again until you bleed to death from those wounds. And then I’m going to fuck you again and again.” She lays paralyzed and tears start rise up to her eyes."
"My MP3-player switches to play in major. I turn the gas handle to the max as I hit the freeway. The wind in my clothes, the wind in my hair that sticks out from my helmet. Water flying past me as it hits my tires wetting me completely. My strawberry tasting lips. I do a wheelie even though I can barely even drive in this weather. I nearly hit the curb as I drive off the ramp. Phantom Field, Lincoln Road, 242b, the suburbs. I park and my bike falls over into a bush. I sneak around the house and pick-lock my way in from a window – with my foot. I fall to the basement and make a hell-of-a-racket. Not a subtle entrance. I climb up the stairs. The place looks like a normal 4 people house. A trap. I pull my Desert Eagle .50 and at the same time thousand needles hit my shoulder. I turn and try to shoot but a canon hits my cut. I fly against the wall. A man stands on the door way. I lift my gun but he comes and presses his boot on my wrist and shoots my hand away. I pass out."
Edit: voisi olla vähemmän tohkeissaan, kun yrittää kirjoittaa selvästi.