Panel 1: A suburban street. A rabbit.
Portia (off-panel): Why can’t Joel drive us today? Kate (off-panel): Portia, we're done with this conversation. Angel (off-panel): Ptchew! Ptchew! Aaargh! I shall be revennnged! Panel 2: The car drives into the panel, in front of the rabbit (so we can no longer see the rabbit). The car is awful. Old and embarrassing. It lets out a lot of exhaust. Maybe parts of it are held together by duct tape. An old Portia: You don’t get to decide when I’m done with a conversation about my life. Kate: No friend worth keeping was ever lost over an uncool minivan. Even one from 1998… Angel (playing with action figures): It smells like death! And dusty darkness! And greeeen beannns! Panel 3: The car drives off, leaving a ton of exhaust, and the rabbit, in the same position as in panel 1, but now with wide/bug eyes—like he just saw something truly shocking. Portia (off-panel): Can you drop us off a block away? Kate (off-panel): Stop being dramatic. Angel (off-panel): Dra-MATIC!
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