MirrorMask Page #3

It's just stupid.

It's freezing.

Come on. Let's go back down.

Come on, you're going to catch your death.

You need to wear Dad's coat.

What about that? It's a treat.

You look like a real artist. Come on.

- Penny for your thoughts, love.

- Nothing to think.

- Good night, Nan.

- Good night, lovey.

- Well, good luck anyways.

- Sweet dreams.

Dad?

I'm only going to take 10%% off.

I'm the manager.

Okay. Fair enough.

Eric?

Quiet, please!

We must have perfect silence

while we rehearse.

Eric, is that you?

Can we also not distract our accompanist,

if we don't mind?

Some of us are rehearsing here.

- Eric, what are you doing here?

- Catch the last ball, and we stop.

And we turn and we bow...

and we say, "Can we have

a brave volunteer," blah, blah, blah...

- Hey, you. You can be the brave volunteer.

- What?

- What's your name?

- Helena.

What's wrong with your face?

- My face?

- Whatever.

- And it's music maestro, please.

- I know lots of songs.

But they all sound a bit the same.

Okay, come on, we just need some

creepy, dangerous kind of music. Go.

I know you or someone like you.

Come on, maestro, this is our big finish.

No, don't touch him.

Come on quickly. Let me try.

What are you doing? Come on!

What was that thing?

One of the many things to avoid in life.

Like, losing a comrade

and a lifelong companion and a soul mate...

while attempting to rescue little girls.

What the hell have you got on your feet?

- What?

- Is that some sort of sick joke?

Treading on little rabbity-type animals

with every step...

- that's just nasty.

- They're not real.

I'm sorry about your friends.

I thought the violinist was Eric.

He's a friend of mine.

But it wasn't.

I don't really know where I am.

You're in one of the other things

to avoid in life.

- What, a junk room?

- No, trouble.

There!

Don't irritate it!

- What is it?

- Just a sphinx.

- Throw it a book.

- What?

- Throw it a book, it likes books.

- Okay.

Finders Keepers by Joe Grey...

A Short History of Future Fruit

by Douglas Prawnhead.

Anything, it's not going to read it!

Right. Not a disaster. Okay.

Think. Okay,

grab a couple of really big books!

Okay.

- Throw it on the floor.

- But why? I like books.

Please, come on.

No, useless.

It's really got to feel

like it's being rejected.

Horrible, offensive, badly constructed book.

Right.

Nasty poorly paced book...

with a soppy ending

that I didn't believe in for one minute!

- How does this work?

- So long as they think you don't like them...

they migrate back to the city library

and we get a free ride out of this hole.

I think...

Yes, I think we may have found her.

- What did you say your name was?

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