MindTrip: A Rough Time PAGE ONE; Pic 1; MindTrip stumbles down the sidewalk. He is a man in his late thirties, strong build, a little over six feet. He’s wearing black: shirt, trenchcoat, boots, pants, gloves. His face is covered in white face paint, and stringy black hair hangs over his forehead. He’s plastered, still nursing his last bottle as he walks down the sidewalk, approaching an alley. NO TEXT; Pic 2; MindTrip doubles over and vomits violently off-panel. He catches the edge of a brick building with his hand, or he’d follow it onto the pavement. NO TEXT; Pic 3; MindTrip wipes his mouth with his sleeve, with the bottle still held tight in his hand. NO TEXT; Pic 4; MindTrip drains the rest of the bottle. TIM (Off Panel);             SNIFF... SNIFFLE… Pic 5; MindTrip looks up, into the alley where he vomited. There’s a five year old boy sitting on the fire escape on the third floor, curled into a ball and hugging his ankles. He’s got short brown hair, and he’s wearing a white shirt with a red ring around the collar and sleeves, blue jeans and a pair of beat up Converse shoes. TEXT;                         HE KNOWS HE SHOULD DO SOMETHING. PAGE TWO; Pic 1; MindTrip starts to walk away, down the street. The kid is off panel again, and hasn’t even noticed him. TEXT;                         AND HE WOULD. Pic 2; MindTrip falls down, failing to catch himself on the edge of a dumpster, and lands in a puddle. The alley is filled with trash. He’s not in the nice part of town. TEXT;                         IF HE WEREN’T SO DRUNK. Pic 3; The kid hears him fall, and looks up. His father beat the leaving shit out of him. His eye is swollen shut, his lip cut through on his own teeth, his nose broken and the cartilage sticking through. NO TEXT; Pic 4; Same picture, but closer, focusing on the kid’s face. TEXT;                         SOME THINGS JUST WON’T HOLD TIL TOMORROW. Pic 5; MindTrip shoves himself to his feet, using the dumpster to keep from falling again. His knees are unsteady, but his face is grimly resolute. NO TEXT; PAGE THREE; Pic 1; MindTrip stands at the bottom of the brick wall, reaching up into a handhold in the brick. A few inches past that hole, another depression is growing. And another beyond it. TEXT;                         THE BRICK BENDS TO HIS WILL. Pic 2; His grip slips, and he dangles from one hand a story and a half above the alley. TEXT;                         HIS FINGERS DON’T. Pic 3; Close on MindTrip’s gloved hand as he finds the next handhold. NO TEXT; Pic 4; MindTrip pulls himself up over the rail around the fire escape. He’s sobered up enough to be angry, now, and it scares the kid. MINDTRIP;                     WHO DID THIS TO YOU? PAGE FOUR; Pic 1; The kid is quiet. Terrified. He doesn’t know what to say or do. NO TEXT; Pic 2; Same as last panel. TIM (Quiet);                  PLEASE DON’T HURT MY DADDY. Pic 3; MindTrip has already climbed through the open window by the fire escape, and his trenchcoat is hanging outside of it. The kid is still paralyzed. NO TEXT; Pic 4; MindTrip stomps down the hallway. There’s a bathroom on the right, a kitchen to his left. In the center of the hall is a mirror. Further down, on the right is the front door, and to the left is a family room. The entire apartment is dark, with a soft television glow coming from the family room. NO TEXT; Pic 5; Shown from behind the chair, MindTrip stands over the shoulder of a man slouched in an easy chair in front of the TV. He’s got an end table beside him with a remote and a can of beer inches from his fingertips. The man has red marks on his knuckles and the joints of his fingers, and a little trickle of blood from his middle knuckle. NO TEXT; PAGE FIVE; Pic 1; Same angle as the last panel. MindTrip punches the man in the head. The man flails his arms and legs, knocking the table away. The beer can flips over, spilling liquid out as the remote and table fly in different directions. NO TEXT; Pic 2; MindTrip punches him in the stomach. The man is now trying to hit back, weakly, with his fists balled, but he’s only managing to his MindTrip in the arm and shoulder. RANDALL;                     WHAT THE FU- Pic 3; MindTrip hits him again. The man’s fingers crawl up his arm, as he tries to weakly push him away. NO TEXT; Pic 4; MindTrip hits him again. The man’s arms are slumped over the chair, no longer moving. TIM (OP);                     PLEASE STOP. PAGE SIX; Pic 1; The kid is standing between MindTrip and his father. The old man is more beat to hell than his kid is, but the kid is looking at him like he’s willing to fight him, or take his dad’s lumps if that’s what he has to do. TIM;                          DON’T HURT MY DADDY ANYMORE. Pic 2; MindTrip fumes, and stamps his way toward the front door. He’d punch the kid right now if he were in his way. But the kid is with his father, now. TEXT;                         IF THE UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BASTARD WERE HIS KID… Pic 3; MindTrip stops at the mirror in the hall, surprised by his own reflection. He's taken aback by his own ferocity. NO TEXT; Pic 4; Close on the kid, crying. He’s hugging his father, still slumped and unconscious in the chair. He’s possibly the most pitiful thing you’ve ever seen. TEXT;                         HE’D GIVE HIM A HUG. TEXT;                         HE’S HAD A ROUGH TIME LATELY. Pic 5; Back at the entrance to the alley it starts to rain. MindTrip lights himself a cigarette, trying to shield his lighter. TEXT;                         HE CAN RELATE.