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Thanks Given #8 – Si Spurrier's Gutsville and Something New

First, a page from the long awaited fourth issue of Si Spurrier and Frazer Irving's Gutsville.

And two pages of script from Si Spurrier's new, unnamed Avatar title, the artwork he described as "boyohboyohboy does it look the Badger's Balls."

PAGE ONE

Panel 1: Ext. London's NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM. A drizzly, miserable day.

1. Caption: Listen:

2. Caption:  The last twelve thousand years have been packed with all the fast-moving excitement of a tectonic turd.

3. Caption: I've been sealed in the planet's arsehole for most of it, and that's not even the worst part.

Panel 2: In. the museum. All stone pillars and faded 80's exhibitions. We're closing on a particular section of glass cabinets, orange Information Panels and artists' impressions of Prehistoric Humans.  A large sign – in a "fun" font – hangs above it all: "WHO WE ARE AND WHO WE WERE." Bored schoolchildren slouch around it.

4. Caption: I've been shat out by a glacier and lovingly reassembled by some milksop git who thought Paleowhateverthefuck would all be dinosaurs and dinner speeches.

5. Caption: I've been arranged in a cabinet so the placental ejecta you people call children can gurn at me like mongoloid monkeys—

Panel 3: Repeat angle, but tracking forwards into the section. We're zooming towards one particular cabinet, but we can't see it too clearly yet. Kids blow gum-bubbles and yawn at their teachers' lectures. On either side: Neanderthal Skulls, flint axeheads, wax models…

6. Caption —and I've listened to their prattle 'til your language infected me like scabies.

7. Caption: But really, all that I can handle.

Panel 4:  Repeat angle, but still zooming on that one particular cabinet. We can make it out easier now. It contains a SKULL – clearly Homo sapiens – and a few artefacts: pieces of bone, a selection of carved stone tools.  The label above it reads: EPIPALEOLITHIC AGE with a smaller label marked KABARAN WOMAN (c. 10,000 B.C). Next to it: a an overblown ARTIST'S IMPRESSION of a tribal savage.

8. Caption: It's the fucking humiliation I can't take.

9. Caption: It's the flint blades and condescending labels, written by some fusty old cunt who's never dreamed of a pre-Uruk civilisation; let alone heard of the Distil or the bloody Wyrd.

Panel 5: Repeat angle: zooming in one last time.  We're close on the SKULL so it fills our panel.  Chipped, broken and reassembled, teeth missing. 

10. Caption: It's embarrassing, is what.

11. Caption: If I'd known it'd all end up like this I would've run a fucking mile when I heard that feckless Arya bitch say—

PAGE TWO 

Panel 1:  Close on a woman's face – a direct SEGUE from the skull.  She's middle-aged, SOUR looking.  Not very attractive.  Brutal/functional haircut (maybe a bowlcut?).  She looks TERRIFIED: eyes wide. Too scared to scream. A couple of specks of BLOOD on her face.

1. Inquirer Moll (quiet): Ohgrind.

Panel 2: LARGE. Deep in a dense FOREST.  Weird foliage. We're wide on a SCUTTLECAB: an open-topped Arya steam-driven VEHICLE.  Wheels at the back, clanking insect LEGS at the front. Gears, brass valves, maybe even some decals relating to the DISTIL. It's venting steam and smog: currently wrapped round a tree – CRASHED.

Three occupants: a DRIVER; two passengers.  One is MOLL; the woman from Panel 1: an INQUIRER 5TH CLASS.  She wears dark, severe clothes; vaguely militaristic.  At her collar is a Brass BADGE in the shape of a stylised EYE, with five small PIPS arranged around it.  The other passenger is TETTER.  Both seem shellshocked; wide-eyed and open-mouthed…. Why? because the Driver is… well.  Dead.  Very dead. His HEAD's been impaled by a jagged-edged JAVENLIN: right through the face. The body, head tilted back, has scattered blood and brains all across their laps.

2. Inquirer Moll: I… I think I shat myself.

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