Not Today Satan?

Panel 1:Wide shot of the WereHouse loading dock interior. Burnt footprints — scorched black into the concrete — lead from the open dock bay door toward the center of the floor. A tall figure with slicked-back blonde hair, a slim suit, a pitchfork, massive flaming wings, and a blazing red halo steps through the entrance. His red eyes glow. An evil red aura radiates from his body. The whole crew — Roy, Jennifurr, Axel, Cadillac, and Gary — stands frozen mid-task, staring.

Narrator:“What the Devil?? Lucifer? The Angel cast out of Heaven by God himself?”

Panel 2:Medium shot on Lucifer standing at the center of the dock, pitchfork planted on the floor, red wings folded. He points one long finger directly at Roy, who stands with a road case in his hands, mouth open.

“Lucifer : I have an event. I want him. The human. Roy.”

Panel 3:Close-up on Evil Forklift's large green eyes, narrowed with suspicion. His Gadsden flag sticker is visible on his body. A thin curl of green smoke rises from his exhaust pipe.

“Evil Forklift : Nobody has ever specifically wanted Roy before. Like, ever.”

Panel 4:Medium shot of Jennifurr, Axel, and Cadillac standing in a tight group. Jennifurr's arms are crossed, wrench in one hand, expression hard and suspicious. Axel's arms are folded, eyes narrowed. Cadillac shifts his toothpick one millimeter and raises one eyebrow.

“Jennifurr: Something is wrong with this. Axel: Roy is a dumbass! Cadillac : Sounds like someone else's shift.”

Panel 5:Medium shot on Roy, still holding the road case, looking over his shoulder at the crew, then back at Lucifer. His expression is uncertain but his body language is already leaning toward Lucifer — feet turning that direction.

“Roy : I'll... take the gig.”

Panel 1:Wide shot of a dingy break room at the WereHouse. Roy sits across a folding table from Lucifer, who has folded his wings back and crossed one leg over the other, pitchfork leaning against the table. His red eyes are soft and his expression is practiced sympathy. A single bare bulb hangs overhead.

“Lucifer : Roy… I have a very special event I need you for. But don’t worry, I’m not actually as bad as everyone says! Roy : I’m not as dumb as everyone says!”

Narrator:“Roy is actually that dumb ”

Panel 2:Close-up on Lucifer's face, red eyes glistening, expression of wounded dignity. His jaw is set but his brow is furrowed with performed sorrow.

“Lucifer : God didn't cast me out for being evil, Roy. He cast me out for being sexually fluid.”

Panel 3:Close-up on Roy's face. His eyes are wide, jaw slightly dropped, expression shifting from skepticism to genuine sympathy. He leans forward on his elbows.

“Roy : That's... That's messed up, man.”

Panel 4:Wide panel. A montage-style sequence of four small images arranged horizontally across the panel: Roy in a Hot Topic-style black outfit with silver chains; Roy applying thick black eyeliner in a bathroom mirror; Roy hanging an inverted cross poster in his apartment; Roy carrying a grimoire under one arm while walking into the WereHouse, crew staring in silence.

Narrator:“Roy became a goth. Quickly.”

Panel 1:Establishing shot of Lucifer's ball venue — a massive, gothic hall with vaulted ceilings, black candles on iron chandeliers, red velvet drapes, and stone floors. In the center of the room, a large ritual circle is carved into the stone and filled with glowing red symbols. Hooded demonic figures stand around the perimeter. A couple lizard people and politicians hover too. Roy stands near the circle in his goth outfit, eyeliner smudged, looking glazed and brainwashed.

Narrator:“Lucifer’s ball! Demons, Lizard People, and politicians mingle! ”

Panel 2:Medium shot. In the center of the ritual circle, a small cage holds Baby wolf — a tiny werewolf with pink hair, clutching a tiny drumstick, looking up with wide, frightened eyes.

Panel 3:Medium shot of Lucifer standing at the head of the ritual circle, wings spread wide, red halo blazing, pitchfork raised. His expression is triumphant. He looks at Roy and extends a ceremonial dagger toward him, handle-first.

“Lucifer : It is time, Roy. Join the ritual. Complete the circle.”

Panel 4:Close-up on Roy's hand reaching out toward the dagger, eyes glassy and unfocused, black eyeliner running slightly.

Panel 5:SPLASH BEAT — wide panel. A blinding column of pure white light erupts from the ceiling of the gothic hall, blowing the velvet drapes outward. In the center of the light stands God — an elderly Middle Eastern man with dark features, a long white beard, and curly salt-and-pepper hair, wearing plain robes. His expression is not serene — it is deeply annoyed. Every demonic figure in the room recoils or dives for cover.

Narrator:“God!”

Panel 1:Medium shot. God grabs Roy by the collar with both hands and shakes him vigorously. Roy's head snaps back and forth, eyeliner smearing further, goth chains rattling. God's expression is exasperated fury.

“God : Are you STUPID, Roy? Lucifer is EVIL. He was LYING.”

Panel 2:Close-up on God's open hand mid-slap, Roy's cheek visibly compressed from the impact, his goth chains flying sideways.

Panel 3:Medium shot of God pointing one finger at Lucifer, who stands at the far end of the hall looking furious and caught. God's expression is disgusted and matter-of-fact.

“God : Most of the angels are queer, Roy. Lucifer was doing WEIRD things to the angels. The ones with all the eyeballs.”

Panel 4:Inset panel — a cartoonish flashback image: Lucifer standing in a heavenly corridor, catcalling a Biblically accurate angel — a spinning wheel covered in multiple eyes and interlocking rings, with small wings. Lucifer leans against a cloud pillar with a sleazy grin, making a crude hand gesture. The angel's many eyes all look horrified in different directions.

“Lucifer : Hey gorgeous, love the extra eyes.”

Narrator:“An Angel as described by the Prophet Ezekial!”

Panel 5:Medium close shot of God leaning directly into Roy's face, one finger pointed at Roy's nose. Roy's eyes are wide and alert now, the brainwashed glaze clearing.

“God : Not every villain is a misunderstood victim. Some people are just EVIL. It's simple. You work with an EVIL FORKLIFT, you dunce!”

Panel 1:Roy, face red from the slap, eyeliner smeared, goth chains hanging, looks up at God with a genuinely earnest expression. He holds his own hands together.

“Roy : Should I... become a Christian?”

Panel 2:Close-up on God's face. His expression is pure exasperated disbelief — eyes half-closed, brow deeply furrowed, mouth slightly open. He pinches the bridge of his nose.

“God : You think I give a shit? Seriously Roy. How dumb are you? Actually don’t tell me. I know.”

Panel 3:Medium shot of God, arms spread wide in a gesture of simplicity, expression tired but sincere. Roy listens, eyes locked on him.

“God : Don't kill children and cubs. Listen to your conscience. When something feels wrong — it IS wrong.”

Panel 4:Wide shot. The hall doors EXPLODE inward. Jennifurr charges through first, wrench raised over her head. Axel is right behind her, MacBook open and held like a weapon. Cadillac strolls in last through the smoke, toothpick in place, baseball bat over one shoulder.

“Jennifurr: Roy! You idiot! Axel: I had a feeling this would happen! Cadillac : This isn’t even my shift!”

Narrator:“The Werewolves arrive just as Roy is thrown back into Lucifer’s ball!”

Panel 1:Medium action panel. Jennifurr swings her wrench at Lucifer with full force, connecting with a loud CLANG. Lucifer's pitchfork spins out of his hand. His expression shifts from triumph to shock.

“Jennifurr: Back off, devil boy.”

Panel 2:Action panel. Axel swings the open MacBook like a paddle and smacks Lucifer across the side of the head. The MacBook screen shows a paused 'Well Actually' YouTube video on impact.

“Axel: Well ACTUALLY — take that!”

Panel 3:Roy — goth outfit, smeared eyeliner, but eyes fully clear now — drives his knee up hard into Lucifer's face as Lucifer doubles over. Roy's expression is determined and furious.

Narrator:“Roy summons his inner demons and fights back!”

Panel 4:Wide action panel. Roy winds up and delivers a massive uppercut to Lucifer's chin. Lucifer — wings spread, halo flickering — launches upward, crashing through the gothic hall ceiling. A shower of stone and plaster rains down. A circular hole in the ceiling shows the night sky.

“Roy : Hallelujah!”

Panel 5:Wide shot. Baby wolf stands freed from the cage, tiny drumstick clutched in both hands, pink hair mussed. Jennifurr crouches next to her, wrench lowered, expression soft. Cadillac stands behind them, toothpick in place, arms crossed, surveying the wreckage. Axel closes the MacBook. Roy stands in the center of the hall, fist still raised, then slowly collapses to the floor face-first.

Narrator:“Roy hit the floor before anyone could catch him.”

Panel 1:Establishing shot of a supernatural hospital room. The walls are covered in glowing runes. Strange equipment hums beside the bed. Roy lies propped up in a hospital bed, goth makeup mostly wiped off, wearing a hospital gown. His chains are on the bedside table. Standing at the foot of the bed is Dr. Beaumont — a Haitian Witch Doctor in a white coat over a colorful patterned shirt, bone necklace, and a top hat with a small skull pin.

Narrator:“Roy wake up in the supernatural hospital! ”

Panel 2:Medium shot of Dr. Beaumont holding a clipboard, pointing at a readout covered in glowing symbols. His expression is clinical and matter-of-fact.

“Roy : Did I... meet God?”

Narrator:“The world’s greatest Witch Doctor! Dr. Boomauent!”

Panel 3:Close-up on Dr. Beaumont's face — calm, professional, slightly amused. He taps his clipboard.

Narrator:“Roy, you’ve been dosed with a powerful combination of supernatural drugs. I doubt you met God. ”

Panel 4:CUTAWAY — wide establishing shot of a fluffy white cloud against a blue sky. God sits on the cloud in a lawn chair, robes rumpled, looking pleased with himself. To his left sits Buddha — round, serene, smiling. To his right sits Jesus — young, long brown hair, sandals, thumbs up. Across from them sits Vishnu — blue-skinned, four arms, each holding a different snack. They all look relaxed.

“God : Honestly? I just wanted to piss off Lucifer. Vishnu: Do you really care about Roy? That idiot?”

Narrator:“My heavens!”

Panel 1:Establishing shot of a sunny city park. Hippies — tie-dye shirts, sandals, dreadlocks — lounge on the grass. Two play hacky sack. One plays acoustic guitar. A cloud of smoke drifts from a bong being passed around. A hand-painted sign reads 'PEACE NOT PROFITS.' Birds chirp. It is aggressively peaceful.

Narrator:“Meanwhile, across town our hero Cadillac Jones saves us from boredom with his gritty B Plot. ”

Panel 2:Medium shot. The Mayor sits behind his enormous mahogany desk at City Hall, silver hair immaculate, 'TAX THE POOR' sash crisp, black ring gleaming, unsettling wide smile at full width. Crime Fighting Cadillac stands across from him, tiny cowl perched on his head, toothpick tucked neatly underneath it, baseball bat resting on his shoulder.

“Mayor: There are hippies in the park, Cadillac. Smoking grass. Playing hacky sack. Do something about it.”

Panel 3:Action montage panel — three stacked mini-panels: TOP: Crime Fighting Cadillac swings his bat at a hacky sack mid-air — WHAP — it explodes in a burst of beads. MIDDLE: Crime Fighting Cadillac smashes the bong with a single downward bat strike — CRACK — pieces flying. BOTTOM: Crime Fighting Cadillac grabs two hippies by their tie-dye collars and marches them toward a park shower station.

Panel 4:Wide shot. The hippies — now clean, hair combed, wearing ill-fitting button-down shirts that are clearly not theirs — stand in a row clutching job application papers. Their expressions are devastated and hollow. Crime Fighting Cadillac stands to the side, bat over shoulder, toothpick perfect, surveying the results.

“Crime fighting Cadillac : You're welcome.”

Panel 5:Close-up on one hippie's tear-streaked face, holding a job application. His eyes are red. He speaks directly at Crime Fighting Cadillac.

“Crime fighting Cadillac : You’re gonna hate this even worse than those beatings!”

Narrator:““Justice!””

Panel 6:Medium shot. The Mayor steps forward in the park, glowing bag of money in one outstretched hand, and a glowing bag of weed in the other. His unsettling grin is at maximum width. Crime Fighting Cadillac accepts both bags, toothpick still perfect.

“Mayor: Real supernatural American hero.”

Panel 1:Wide establishing shot of the Howling Pint bar interior — warm, chaotic, alive. The whole crew is lined up at the bar: Roy (hospital wristband still on, goth makeup mostly gone, looking sheepish), Jennifurr (wrench on the bar beside her), Axel (MacBook under arm), Cadillac (toothpick immaculate, one bag of weed tucked conspicuously in his jacket pocket), Frank (massive, aviator sunglasses, already on his fourth drink), Gary (floating above his barstool, cheerfully holding a clipboard labeled 'INCIDENT REPORT — LUCIFER'). Evil Forklift is on his platform beside the bar, green eyes half-lidded, a glowing green joint the size of a traffic cone smoldering in his forks. Mil the Bartender stands behind the bar, purple glow warm, telekinetically lining up shot glasses. Gremlin scrambles in the background, bussing tables, smock filthy.

Panel 2:Medium shot on Roy at the bar, hospital wristband visible, looking sideways at the crew with an embarrassed half-smile. Jennifurr stands next to him, arms crossed, but a small quiet smile on her face. She slides a shot glass toward him.

“Jennifurr: Shut up, Axel. Axel: Well actually, Roy, you almost got sacrificed a baby werewolf and fucked up big time ”

Panel 3:Medium shot of Evil Forklift on his platform, green eyes fully open and gleaming, glowing green joint smoldering. He stares at Roy.

“Evil Forklift : Even I knew Lucifer was bad news. And I'm literally evil.”

Panel 4:Wide panel. The entire crew raises their shot glasses — Roy, Jennifurr, Axel, Cadillac (still with the bag of weed visible), Frank, Gary (glass phasing through his ghostly hand but held up proudly), and Evil Forklift with a shot glass balanced on his forks. Mil the Bartender pours the round with a telekinetic flourish, purple glow bright and festive.

“Roy : Fuck Satan.”

Panel 1:Wide action panel. The entire crew — Roy, Jennifurr, Axel, Cadillac, Frank, Gary, and Evil Forklift — hurls their empty shot glasses at Gremlin in perfect unison. The glasses fly through the air in an arc. Gremlin stands in the background mid-bustle, smock filthy, hunched.

Panel 2:Close-up on Gremlin. He takes every single shot glass — one bounces off his head, one hits his shoulder, one he catches by reflex. He stumbles, rights himself, and keeps moving. He does not stop working. He never stops working.

Panel 3:Final wide closing panel. The whole crew is lined up at the bar — warm, loud, alive — every face lit in Mil the Bartender's purple glow. Roy's hospital wristband is still on. Baby wolf sits on the bar between Roy and Jennifurr, tiny drumstick in hand, pink hair lit by the purple glow, looking happy and safe. Evil Forklift's exhaust pipe shoots a celebratory puff of green smoke. Gary phases halfway through the bar laughing.

Narrator:“FUCK SATAN. DO DRUGS.”