Tricky Jack #1
Based on Dark Horse GN "Lazarus Jack"
BLACK SCREEN
From pitch-black nothingness comes the faint sound of tortured screaming.
An (inverted) negative image materializes, taking the shape of an imposing Egyptian-style palace complex. The screams seem to be coming from there.
SUPER: “Palace Ma’at, 540 BCE”
INT. PALACE MA’AT - THRONE ROOM
A trail of red footprints lead to . . . the boss-horned God SET.
Set is covered in tattoos and gore. He drops a bloody dagger, plops down on a throne, and admires his handiwork.
Sexless, tar-black creatures with beady red eyes hover over Set’s many murder victims. They are DJINN.
SET: Whisk the offenders away, little ones.
The Djinn and the corpses (Set’s victims) vanish, leaving behind only puddles of blood.
Seconds later, a large circle of sparking bright light appears.
HEKA, a dazzling God wearing a Sekhemti crown, emerges from within the circle of crackling light. He is accompanied by a God with the head of a long-beaked bird (IBIS). This is THOTH.
SET (OS): Uck! You two? What do you bedwetters want?
The glow surrounding Heka fades and his true form is revealed -- a slouchy, pock-marked boy with curling side locks.
Thoth shakes away the mask of his totem animal. Behind the beaked bird: An effeminate boy decked out in a glimmering sheath dress with a jeweled side bag.
Both of these awkward young Gods wear too much mascara.
Heka hands his crown over to Thoth.
SET (OS): RA send you? (mumbles) Of course he did.
“KA” arms (complete with hands) emerge from either side of Heka’s head. The arms bend and their raised hands turn inward to face each other. A GLOWING ORB appears between their open palms.
EXAMPLE OF KA ARMS
HEKA: The right hand of Osiris holds peace, the left hand of Set releases chaos.
SET (snarls at Heka): What is THIS nonsense?
HEKA: Those who dare to upset that balance must be punished. Such is the law of Ma’at, the will of RA.
SET: Punished? What? No, no, no. Hear me out, boys. My actions were clearly justified. I merely reset the balance. Stabilized it.
Heka and Thoth blankly stare at Set.
SET: My wife, my brother, they betrayed me. Then they tried to fool me into believing their bastard was my heir. I could have tortured them both, endlessly. But I showed mercy. Their deaths were quick.
THOTH: The baby, too? Un-believable.
SET: So that’s how it is, is it?
Set quickly retrieves his dagger and lunges at Heka.
Heka’s orb emits a stroboscopic wave that immobilizes Set— freezes him in a state of suspended-animation.
The dagger drops from Set’s paralyzed hand, rolls along the floor.
The dagger stops at Thoth’s feet.
THOTH: Eew.
HEKA: Set’s perverse spirit will henceforth be imprisoned until once again connected to a disciplined counterpart. Praise RA.
The orb pulsates.
Set’s bones crack. His body folds into itself—becomes pliable, putty-like. With surprisingly little blood, Set’s corporeal form is supernaturally molded into a LEFT-HANDED GLOVE.
THOTH: Brutal.
A stylized depiction of THE EYE OF RA is scorched into the palm of the glove.
Thoth waits for the glove to cool. With pinched fingers he picks it up and deposits it in his bag.
Heka’s orb dissipates and the Ka arms slide back inside his head.
Thoth returns Heka’s crown and helps adjust it.
Heka surveys the crime scene one last time. He then fixes his gaze on Thoth.
HEKA: Thoth, my dearest brother, it is imperative that you monitor and document absolutely everything. Even after the glove is linked to a worthy vessel.
THOTH: I think I know my job, Heka. Stop worrying. You make me nervous.
HEKA: It’s just -- (shakes head) What is RA thinking? Only a fool would choose to wear that glove. It should be destroyed.
THOTH: Well, it’s like you said, the essence of the God of Chaos remains dormant until a—um— what did you call it? Oh yeh. Until a disciplined counterpart is awakened. Balance is the key that sets Set free. Ooh, that rhymed.
HEKA: God of Peace. That’s like a joke, isn’t it?
THOTH: See there, no worries. Let’s go home.
INT. ST. JAMES MANSION - STUDY – NIGHT
A banner hangs on a wall in a room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, rich wood paneling, leather armchairs, a large desk, and a fireplace. The banner features an illustration of a young man punching out the Grim Reaper with an uppercut. Reads: “Tricky Jack - Death Defier!”
JACKSON PIERCE, 22, a smirking young man in a smoking jacket, stands by an accent table near the banner. He’s admiring the framed photograph next to the evening tea tray.
The photograph shows escapologist, illusionist and stunt performer Harry Houdini in chains, flanked by two young men wearing police uniforms. Jackson is one of those young men.
SUPER: “1926.”
Jackson picks up the rolled newspaper on the tea tray.
JACKSON: Did you read what those curs wrote about me in the Trib?
Jackson snaps open the paper and begins reading from an article
JACKSON: “His rich wife indulges his lust for glory.”
VOICE (O.S.): Glory? Never heard of her.
Jackson tosses the newspaper aside and dusts his hands.
JACKSON: They called me a mimic, a pale imitation of the great Houdini. That! That really stung.
VOICE (O.S.): It’s not totally untrue.
The “Voice” belongs to Jackson’s adopted brother, RAHMAN PIERCE, 22, an olive–skinned Egyptian American. He’s the other young man featured in the photo with Houdini.
JACKSON: Et Tu?
Rahman, wearing a red fez with black tassel, is sitting on the floor, entertaining Jackson’s two-year-old son, JACKIE JR. with card tricks. Jackie Jr is also wearing a fez.
With a flourish, playing cards fan out in Rahman’s hand.
RAHMAN: Pick a card, Jackie boy. Any card.
Jackie Jr. barely understands what’s going on, but perks up, hearing his name.
Jackson returns to the tea tray. Fills a cup.
JACKSON: I do borrow from Houdini, that’s true. (adds sugar to tea) And yes, my wife is wealthy. Stinking rich, to be exact. But I’m no fraud. (exaggerated gesture with spoon) I just need to refresh my act.
Jackson picks up the cup. Takes a sip.
JACKSON: Create something... spectacular.
Rahman shuffles the cards again. He lifts “the Ace of Spades” from the deck.
RAHMAN: Is this your card, young man?
Jackie Jr. is delighted! Not because it’s his card, just because his uncle is silly.
JACKSON (to Jackie Jr): Avoid the entertainment industry, son.
Jackson kneels down, removes Jackie Jr’s fez, tousles the boy’s hair.
JACKSON: (to Jackie Jr) And totally avoid journalism at all cost. (to Rahman) Well? Are you going to comment?
RAHMAN: My dear, dear brother, you want for nothing and you have all the love and attention any man could ever need. Still, for some reason, you crave more. Why is that?
Rahman shuffles the cards again.
RAHMAN: Isn’t it enough our former employer hasn’t sued you? He’s sued every other thief.
JACKSON: Harry loves me. (mumbles) I did finance his last event.
Rahman’s shuffling gets creative (Faro/Hindu/Overhand). Jackie Jr. is fascinated by the fluttering cards.
RAHMAN: These so-called journalists, they’re jealous of the great Jackson Pierce. Yes. (Riffles cards) Jealous.
Jackson flashes a self-satisfied smile.
Rahman sets the deck aside and lifts his fez. The Ace of Spades is perched on his head.
ANGELINE (ST. JAMES) PIERCE, 21, a stunning beauty in a long-waisted gown, enters the room.
ANGELINE: Okay, ya hooligans, break it up in here.
JACKIE JR: Mama!
Angeline swoops Jackie Jr. up in her arms.
ANGELINE (to Jackie Jr): Time for bed, my love.
Angeline moves toward Jackson next. She leans in to give him a gentle kiss.
ANGELINE: Don’t stay up too late, darling.
Jackson puts an arm around his wife, pulls her in, and gives her a more passionate kiss.
JACKSON: I am lucky, aren’t I?
Then Jackson kisses his son’s head.
JACKSON: Nitey night, sport.
Angeline turns to face Rahman.
ANGELINE: Are you staying tonight?
RAHMAN: If that’s all right.
ANGELINE: Of course it is, silly. (beat) I don’t understand why you insist on having your own place. There are too many rooms in this monstrosity. It’s a waste not to use them.
RAHMAN: You’re too kind.
ANGELINE (to Jackie Jr): We love Uncle Rahmie, don’t we?
Jackie Jr. agrees with a smile and a nod.
The butler, THORNDYKE, 60s, appears at the doorway. He’s toting a brown paper package.
THORNDYKE: Ahem.
Angeline and Jackie Jr pass Thorndyke on their way out.
ANGELINE: Good night, Mr. Thorndyke. Don’t let these boys keep you up.
THORNDYKE (eyebrow raised): Yes, madame.
JACKSON: Whatd’ya got there, Thorny?
THORNDYKE: This—um— this just arrived for you, sir.
RAHMAN: Rather late to be receiving packages.
Jackson takes the package.
JACKSON: A reporter? Right?
THORNDYKE: No sir.
Thorndyke points out the business card attached to the package.
JACKSON: What’s this? A law firm?
RAHMAN: I knew it.
Jackson reads the card.
JACKSON: Am I being sued?
RAHMAN: Had to happen sooner or later.
THORNDYKE: The messenger claimed the package was sent by a firm that represents Mr. and Mrs. Erik Weisz.
RAHMAN: Harry and Bess? Oh my.
JACKSON: I’m being sued. That bastard. He’s got a nerve.
Jackson examines the package.
THORNDYKE: Yes, well, according to the messenger Mr. Weisz recently passed away.
RAHMAN: No.
JACKSON: Harry Houdini’s dead?
THORNDYKE: I’m merely repeating what the man told me.
JACKSON: Impossible. He’s downstairs, isn’t he? Harry’s downstairs. Gonna pop up and sing “Jolly Good Fellow” is he?
THORNDYKE (confused): No sir.
RAHMAN: Jackson, stop pestering the man. Let him go about his business.
JACKSON: Of course. Sorry, Thorndyke. I just—
Jackson shakes the package.
THORNDYKE: My condolences, gentlemen.
RAHMAN: Very kind of you, old boy. Good night. Sleep well.
Rahman closes the door behind Thorndyke, then spins around to face Jackson.
RAHMAN: Well? Are you going to open it or not?
Jackson tears into the package and is surprised by its contents.
RAHMAN: What is it?
JACKSON: A glove. It’s a glove.
Rahman removes his fez.
RAHMAN: A glove? A gauntlet more like. It’s like he’s challenging you from the afterlife.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
ANGELINE, JACKSON, AND RAHMAN PIERCE
Tricky Jack © Mark Scott Ricketts, based on the Dark Horse graphic novel “Lazarus Jack” created by Mark Ricketts (writer) and Horacio Domingues (artist).
You have me hooked on this story! I loves me a tale with Egyptian mythos! Excellent!