When One Door Closes
The job was supposed to be in and out. Easy. But Lyra isn’t as stealthy as she pretends to be…
A short comedy. This was originally written four years ago. I’ve edited it to improve the flow and description.
PAGE 1
Panel 1 — Worms-eye view inside of a dimly lit medieval cell with a highlighted skull in the foreground and the iron barred door in the background. The walls are rough, cobbled together with stones of various sizes. The floor is stone, but uneven in texture. A guard (Gavin) stands in the open doorway with a flickering torch tossing a candle stub into the cell. He’s older and wears a leather jerkin rather than armor. His appearance is tidy; his beard is neatly trimmed and his clothes are clean and tailored but not luxurious. Off panel we hear enraged shouting.
Lyra:—I didn’t steal anything! Let me go!
Panel 2 — The second guard (Neil) shoves Lyra in the cell. Neil wears an outfit similar to Gavin’s, but is younger, maybe mid-twenties. His grooming and attire belie a certain youthful vanity. Lyra wears a medieval gown and neatly braided and coiffed hair. She’s around 16.
Lyra: Hey!
Gavin: Candle’s on the ground, flint and steel are by the door.
SFX: (Over gutter) CLICK
Panel 3 — Lyra hangs off of the bars on the door, continuing to shout abuse. The only source of light is from the torch carried by the guards.
Lyra: Get back here, you flea-bitten curs! You’re gonna regret—
Panel 4 — Same shot, Lyra looking smug.
Lyra: (sing-song) underestimating me.
Panel 5 — Her stance relaxes from the dignified air she projected in front of the guards. Peter is hidden in a shadowed corner of the cell. Lyra feeling around with her foot for the candle stub.
Lyra: Now, where’s tha dratted candle?
Peter: It’s to your right, miss.
Panel 6 — CU of Lyra crouching, feeling around for the candle which had rolled into Peter’s corner, which is just beyond her fingers.
Peter: Nearly there. The tinder box is by the door’s key plate.
Lyra: Ta, old man.
PAGE 2
Panel 1 — Series of page wide stacked panels. Black panel. Maybe some highlights on the back of Lyra’s head and shoulders?
Peter: Think nothing of it, Young Lady!/ It’s been so long since I’ve had visitors—
SFX: SKTCH/ SKTCH/ SKTCH
Panel 2 — Spark from the flint and steel illuminate Lyra.
Peter: And I tell you I’ve just been falling to pieces hoping for someone to talk to.
SFX: SKTCH/ SKTCH/ TK/ SKTCH
Panel 3 — Back to Black. Similar to Panel 1.
Peter: And here you are!/ Now I can tell you’re a lady of few words, but never fear.
SFX: SKTCH/ SKTCH/ SKTCH
Panel 4 — Another spark flare. This time the spark catches on the tinder.
Peter: I have a centuries worth stored up! We will never lack for conversation.
Lyra: (thinking) No kidding...
SFX: SKTCH/ TK/ TK/ TK/ fwoosh
Panel 5 — Lyra and Peter are looking at each other, lit by the smoldering tinder. Lyra holds the candle out, trying to get the wick to light. Peter is only a skull, no skeleton. The cell details are now visible, but in sharp relief.
Panel 6 — Same shot, but the candle is now lit.
Peter: Hullo, ther—
Lyra: (Interrupting) A talkin’ skull.
PAGE 3
Panel 1 — Lyra drips candle wax onto the top of Peter’s skull.
Peter: Well, yes, but—/ Owowow!
SFX: plp/ plp/ plp
Panel 2 — Lyra grinds the base of the candle into the hot wax, affixing the candle to Peter’s skull.
Lyra: Hold this.
Peter: Young Lady, I must protest!
Panel 3 — Lyra lays out a handkerchief between them. Peter blinks unhappily as wax drips into his ocular cavity.
Panel 4 — Lyra starts uncoiling her hair. The hairpins keeping it in place are disguised lock picks.
Lyra: Hullo, darlings.
Peter: This is most unusual! I insist you remove this lump of wax from me post haste!
Panel 5 — Lyra fiddling with the door lock as Peter rants.
Peter: Of all the indignities! An esteemed architect such as myself now nothing more than a candle stand!
Panel 6 — Lyra still fiddling with the lock as Peter rants. The speech bubbles now occupy a physical space in the panel and seem to push her to the side. She is squashed as the bubble pushes around her.
Peter: And what has become of the youth of today?! Faced with a supernatural being of unknown origins and she’s more interested in a boring old door!
Panel 7 — Lyra has given up on the lock, choosing to combat the ever growing speech bubbles instead. Peter’s on a roll! Literally. He’s rolling on the ground with wax tear drops.
Peter: Left here to rot in the castle I built, ignored by a whelp of a girl, and turned into the most macabre table centerpiece! What has my after-life come to?
Lyra: Wait—
PAGE 4
Panel 1 — CU of Peter’s skull being picked up by a delighted Lyra.
Lyra: You built this place? Then you can show me tha way out!
Peter: Can, yes, but won’t!
Panel 2 — Dark background behind Lyra smiling chillingly.
Lyra: Brave words from a man/ with so breakable a skull.
Panel 3 — Peter is suitably afraid. The candle wax drips down like sweat. He speaks in a quavering tone; change the bubble shape.
Peter: That is.../ I’d happy.../ to lend you a hand?
Panel 4 — Low angle shot of Lyra and Peter. Peter is on the ground again. Lyra is working on the lock again.
Lyra: Good man! Won’t be a mo’.
SFX: KCHNK
Panel 5 — Lyra stands before an open door, bowing dramatically.
Lyra: Et, voila!
Panel 6 — Lyra tosses Peter in the air like a ball. The candle is still attached.
Lyra: So. Know where tha treasure vault is?
Peter: I thought you weren’t a thief?
Lyra: I’m not!
Panel 7 — Low angle from inside the cell. Flint, steel, and smoking tinder are in the foreground. Lyra and Peter are off panel.
Lyra: I haven’t stolen anything./ Yet.