Panel 1: Private Detective Rose is sitting at her desk, nursing a bottle of whiskey.
Narration Box: I was in a reckless mood.
Panel 2:
Narration Box:
My future seemed already written, and no amount of ingenious dramatic
crime solving was going to change that. Everything was even bleaker
than usual.
Panel 3:
Narration Box:
Was this city beyond hope? Was I? Wouldn't it be better to give it all
up as a bad job and spend the rest of my days drinking away my sorrows?
Panel 4:
Rose, as herself, is sitting beside a bush in the park, holding a
large pop bottle in her lap. Jacqueline glowers down at her.
Jacqueline: That is a ridiculously huge bottle of root beer.
Rose: Quiet...I'm wallowing.
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