Page Twelve

6 panels

[1] Par and the General have moved to stand before Jazinda, who is held between two soldiers, hands cuffed behind her back, a green light glowing on her suppression collar. Jazinda glares daggers at them, her mouth clamped shut. The General offers Par a knife.

Par: Now, what did Ms. Walters call you? Jaz-something? Jizz?

Par: Hmm. A bit plain looking but not bad I suppose.

General: Would you care to…?

...

[2] Same shot. The General has the knife touching the base of Jazinda’s throat. His other hand is pulling at her shirt. Jazinda’s chin is held high, defiant.

Par: I wouldn’t dream of it! You captured her; the honor is all yours!

General: You’re too kind, Excellency.

...

[3] Same shot. The general has whipped the knife down slicing open Jazinda’s shirt, revealing a black lace bra beneath.

General: Ah! At least it’s not a sports bra.

Par: Nothing to say, Jizz Girl? The stoic type, eh? Well we’ll see how long that lasts.

...

[4] Same shot. The knife has cut the bra in half, revealing Jazinda’s modest breasts. Jazinda’s expression is positively murderous.

General: I daresay she regrets not killing you when she had the chance, Darquon.

Par: I imagine so. Which reminds me…

...

[5] Same shot as Par drives his fist into Jazinda’s stomach, her mouth flying open in a gasp.

Par: That is for daring to place hands on me, cow!

...

[6] Same shot. Jazinda’s head reels back as Par’s fist slams into her face, breaking her nose.

SFX: [Crack]

Par: [Tsk] Not even a proper superheroine, just some forgettable little nobody with a malleable face and impulse control issues.