Chapter 4 – Page 026
Caroool, stop playing with your food.
↓ Transcript
Panel 1:
Nancy abruptly emerges from the crowd into an island of tranquility, bumping booties with none other than Carol Derrider, dressed in an incredibly slinky outfit. Derrider is lingering around the dips, and is understandably surprised at being bumped.
Panel 2:
Same View. Carol smiles, brushing the bump off as no big thing. Nancy is unused to being apologised to.
CAROL: Sorry! Didn’t see you there!
NANCY: But...I...bumped into you?
CAROL: Take the win, darling, it makes the evening go much smoother.
Panel 3:
Nancy is smitten. Carol has a hand on her hip and is clearly having fun playing with her food.
CAROL: Don’t remember seeing you in line. What’s your place in this party, hun?
NANCY: Journalist! For the New Statesman! I’m Naaa-aaatalie Sawyer, I...uh...just got in.
CAROL: You know that whole ‘fashionably late’ thing is just a crowd control measure, right?
NANCY: Huh. That...sounds like something I would say, actually.
SFX: Gay panic gay panic gay panic
Panel 4:
Carol waves her wine glass round suggestively.
CAROL: Carol Derrider.
CAROL: Don’t work for the police, but lots of police work for me. It’s a very comfortable arrangement all around, it gets me invited to swanky parties like this one.
CAROL: Or else. If you know what I mean.
Panel 5:
Nancy recovers enough sense of self to peer over Carol’s shoulder.
NANCY: You sure that’s something you want to flaunt?
CAROL: What’s the point of having it if you can’t flaunt it? Humility’s a mug’s game.
CAROL: I like the sunglasses! I can never deal with the strobe lighting in these places, that’s smart thinking!
Panel 6:
Nancy is studying E-D over Carol’s shoulder as he djs away. Carol seems largely oblivious.
CAROL: So what’s the deal with this app, anyway?
CAROL: Gonna be honest, I mostly came here to pick up chicks, I didn’t look at the invite too closely.
CAROL: It’s a delivery app, right? It’s just that in my line of work, you gotta be careful with phones, you never know who’s tapping in.
Nancy abruptly emerges from the crowd into an island of tranquility, bumping booties with none other than Carol Derrider, dressed in an incredibly slinky outfit. Derrider is lingering around the dips, and is understandably surprised at being bumped.
Panel 2:
Same View. Carol smiles, brushing the bump off as no big thing. Nancy is unused to being apologised to.
CAROL: Sorry! Didn’t see you there!
NANCY: But...I...bumped into you?
CAROL: Take the win, darling, it makes the evening go much smoother.
Panel 3:
Nancy is smitten. Carol has a hand on her hip and is clearly having fun playing with her food.
CAROL: Don’t remember seeing you in line. What’s your place in this party, hun?
NANCY: Journalist! For the New Statesman! I’m Naaa-aaatalie Sawyer, I...uh...just got in.
CAROL: You know that whole ‘fashionably late’ thing is just a crowd control measure, right?
NANCY: Huh. That...sounds like something I would say, actually.
SFX: Gay panic gay panic gay panic
Panel 4:
Carol waves her wine glass round suggestively.
CAROL: Carol Derrider.
CAROL: Don’t work for the police, but lots of police work for me. It’s a very comfortable arrangement all around, it gets me invited to swanky parties like this one.
CAROL: Or else. If you know what I mean.
Panel 5:
Nancy recovers enough sense of self to peer over Carol’s shoulder.
NANCY: You sure that’s something you want to flaunt?
CAROL: What’s the point of having it if you can’t flaunt it? Humility’s a mug’s game.
CAROL: I like the sunglasses! I can never deal with the strobe lighting in these places, that’s smart thinking!
Panel 6:
Nancy is studying E-D over Carol’s shoulder as he djs away. Carol seems largely oblivious.
CAROL: So what’s the deal with this app, anyway?
CAROL: Gonna be honest, I mostly came here to pick up chicks, I didn’t look at the invite too closely.
CAROL: It’s a delivery app, right? It’s just that in my line of work, you gotta be careful with phones, you never know who’s tapping in.