PANEL TWO
Front of the ship. Jodie comes in for landing. She yanks on the strings, hard. There are hundreds of red and blue corroded metal containers dotted randomly across the ship. A few in shot for this panel. The heavens have opened up, and thousands of water-like missiles plummet down to the wooden deck.
They strike Jodie with savage vehemence. Her hair has become soaked to the bone. Water-droplets dribble down her exquisite face.
CAPTION
Just great. It would have to rain.
I think it's getting better. But I have this nagging feeling that it's total tripe. What ever am I going to do? I'm trying as hard as I can. But it appears as if my best isn't good enough. Maybe comics isn't for me after all. I don't want to quit. I have a story to tell. I have an excellent character that needs to be put out there. Jodie could be huge! She could be the real rival to James Bond. But no-one will ever know. And that makes me depressed.
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