Words of advice from July 2008, future self to past self, my self to my self: Your action sequences are too cramped. I recommend you expand this story to five pages.

“WRONG ADDRESS”

Page 2 (of 4)

Ill. 1:
Spaceboy is standing back inside his apartment, the sliding doors shushing closed behind him. He has a look of total indignance about him, focused eyes gazing at his out stretched arms, the sleeves of his pyjama shirt sliding down off his forearms.

SPACEBOY: “Of course I have bones!”
SPACEBOY: “They–they’re just under my skin.”

Ill. 2:
Spaceboy crouched next to the box, touching his fingers against the address. Little cracks along the edges are pouring out multicoloured light. In the background we can see a bit more of his apartment space, including a simple white futon with a few choice articles of clothing and empty food packets thrown on it.

SPACEBOY: “Like you…”
SPACEBOY: “I suppose I have to deliver you myself.”

Ill. 3:
Spaceboy knocked back onto his butt as the box levitates off the ground, shaking, light projected from cracks forming in the surface.

SPACEBOY: “Damaged during shipping! Complain to the Delivery Authority!”

BOX: scary SFX.

Ill. 4:
From behind: Spaceboy in a mid-air leap, jumping his futon to get to the safety offered hiding behind it.

BOX (off-panel): scary SFX.

Ill. 5:
Spaceboy’s head, peering over the back of his white futon, eyes open wide, the star pupils shining brightly. His whole face projects the patented “Oh geez” expression.

BOX (off-panel): scary SFX.

Ill. 6:
Spaceboy (and most of the items we saw previously in his apartment) being pulled out into the corridor inside a vortex of multi-coloured numbers, the sliding doors completely blown off by the force of chaos maths.

SPACEBOY: “WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

BOX: scary SFX.