Sheep magazine archive 1: issues 3-9

The LONE WANDERER (30s) handsome-butrugged,
short beard, medium length hair and a
ripped cowboy jacket with a holstered revolver.
Riding a rusted rumbling CS550. It begins to
slow down a noticeable amount; black smoke
pouring out of the engine. The Lone Wanderer
looks at the gas dial - Empty.
CUT TO:
EXT. DESERT – NIGHT
The sky has darkened. The large black space
occupied with vibrant purple and red clouds
creating a lush toxic-waste painting. The Lone
Wanderer is now pushing his bike, fatigued
and exhausted, he has travelled this way for
a long time now. He notices a rusted sign
standing near a rusted skeletal structure of an
abandoned car. The sign says NORTH.
He looks disappointed;
LONE WANDERER (V.O.)
God damnit. Everyone knows North is no man’s
land ... the toxic-levels mutated everything. But I
need the gas.
He continues walking.
EXT. DESERT – NIGHT
Later on, the wind whistling loudly rustling the
dead trees back and forth. He stops, standing
in admiration and curiosity. Standing lone in
barren terrain; a half-collapsed 1940’s style
Diner/Gas station. Strangely the vibrant neon
sign lights are still working, and are illuminating
the exterior of the structure against the night’s
darkness, DANS GAS N DINER
EXT. DANS GAS N DINER – NIGHT
As the Lone Wanderer walks closer he becomes
illuminated in vibrant neon green and red. He
looks back and scans the area before kicking
out his bike stand and resting it. He walks
towards the decayed structure.
INT. DANS GAS N DINER – NIGHT
The Lone Wanderer walks through the red-door,
with an OPEN sign hanging on it. The interior’s
power doesn’t work, mainly due to half of the
main rooms ceiling has collapsed, fallen onto
itself.
The interior is dark, segments of it being lit-up
by a somehow-still-working glowing jukebox,
that’s playing an occasionally muffled I WALKED
WITH A ZOMBIE by Roky Erickson. An emptiedout
cash register lies on the desk, next to an old
smashed “QUICK GRAB” vending machine.
He hears a crack of glass in one of the other
rooms, he spins around and draws his revolver -
A YELLOW-JACK; a mutated being with cracked
yellow skin and glowing blood-shot eyes, jumps
out and sprints towards him.
The Lone Wander shoots his revolver, the bullet
penetrating the Yellow-jack’s forehead and
leaving his parietal bone, bright-yellow blood
squirts onto the jukebox.
LONE WANDERER (V.O.)
Goddamn Yellow-jacks. Mutated scum.
55
DECEMBER 2015