The emancipation of women by causing the spread of Chicken pox to turn men
infertile ( I know it's the mumps, but it doesn't have to be true ) and with
infected potatoes full of female "Extract" to increase the number of women
through out the world. ?
"I've been informed that there ARE a couple of QAnon supporters who are fairly regular posters in AJB."
(Later, Sir James lies in ye Comte’s study.)
Sir James: (Mumbling.) ....hold me, Felix. Hold me tight. I have seen things you people would never believe. I have seen...... horrible visions. Don't let go of me, Felix....(Awakes.) ....ah.
Comte: Good evening, Naught Naught Seven.
Sir James: But I am Sir Hilary Bray, Baronet.
Comte de Blofeld: Nay, nay, nay, for through thine disguise of... 8-) glasses... I have seen.
Sir James: Well, it works for Sir Clark of Kent.
Comte: ..and how thee occasionally slips into a fake Antipodean accent. (Sir James looks hurt.)
Comte: Most truly thou ist not Sir Hilary Bray, since thee has been most occupied with the seduction of young maidens. Also thine climbing colleague hast been most forthright in his announcements of the great Naught Naught Seven!
Sir James: Did'st he really say I was great? That's really nice of him.... er, I mean, I know naught of this Campbell person....... but he will report my whereabouts.
Comte: I think not. Before letting him go. I did make him swear he would'st not tell a soul. Even shook pinkies on it. So NO! help will be forthcoming for ye. (Sir James looks taken aback at the news.)
Comte: So you see nothing shalt interfere with my plans....... This Time!
Sir James: And what art thou up to here, Comte? I did hear thee singing about a friggin' chickasee... er, I mean a chicken fricasee.
Comte: Ye maidens are at Pizza Gloria to treat their allergies, including potatoes and smalahove.
Sir James: And ye chickens?
Comte: Ye chickens art most vital to mine plans, Naught Naught Seven, as are those beautiful maidens whom I have conditioned to speak their own mind and have a say in their lives. Can you imagine? Society would unravel, kingdoms would fall, morals as we know them would disappear.
Sir James: Aye, aye, and ye chickens?
Comte: Pens and paper have been cunningly hidden in the maidens' make-up boxes- in ye hands of a woman they are objects of catholic mass destruction! Ye maidens will recieve a message by a carrier pigeon, and ye trigger will be church bells and cannon fire. I shalt, of course, make sure that none of this kicks in anywhere near myself.
Sir James: I see... and what about ye chickens?
Comte: Ah, that ist my masterstroke! Ye chickens shall enforce the emancipation of women by causing the spread of chickenpox to turn men infertile! And with infected potatoes full of female "Extract" to increase the number of women throughout the world, all will be changed! Unless, of course, I am paid what I ask for.
Sir James: How many pieces of gold doth thou demand, Comte?
Comte de Blofeld: In this I will cause thee much surprise, Sir James. Now my men shalt guide thee to an easily-escapable chamber.
I don't get the bit about catholic mass destruction, N24????
That was fun, everyone chipping in to expand that scene!
Now....
Act 5, Scene 1. An easily-escapable chamber. Sir James ist thrown in by ye Comte’s men.
Comte: Enjoy thine new abode, Sir James. I shalt keep ye here in case thou may prove useful later.
Sir James: On that thou should not count, Count. (Exit ye Comte and his men. Sir James immediately begins looking for ye way out of ye chamber.)
He does find a way out, then a pair of skis, and heads off down the berg pursued by Blofeld’s men and eventually Blofeld himself. As we know, he’ll meet Tracy at the bottom and the chase continues.
Act 5, Scene 1. An easily-escapable chamber. Sir James ist thrown in by ye Comte’s men.
Comte : This be the working of the worlds largest Coco Clock, with many cogs, so it be
very dangerous, so please attire thine self with this hard hat and high viz doublet !
Sir James : Thee hast thought of everthing Comte.
Comte : Ah, Time will tell, unlike thine Albion colleague, who is't now just a decoration.
so wilst Tell no one !
( on seeing hs colleage hanging outside Sir James lunges st the Comte )
Comte : We didn't do that, on letting him go, he slipped on the curling track and fell off the edge.
you would'st not believe the amount of paper work I have to fill in over that.
( Two yeomen push Sir James in to the chambre )
Comte: Enjoy thine new abode, Sir James. I shalt keep ye here in case thou may prove useful later.
Sir James: On that thou should not count, Count.
(Exit ye Comte and his men. Sir James immediately begins looking for ye way out of ye chamber.)
"I've been informed that there ARE a couple of QAnon supporters who are fairly regular posters in AJB."
Catholic (or church) mass destruction is a medieval version of "weapons of mass destruction".
There is no need for a Blofeld to send pidgons if he also uses cannon fire and church bells as triggers for the hypnosis.
The part about smalahove allergies being crippeling in Norway will probably work better if the girl who has that allergi sails it when she meet Bond. She might also say she has been warned the Number 24 signals mortal danger for her, but I might be the only one to apriciate the joke.
(Exit ye Comte and his men. Sir James immediately begins looking for ye way out of ye chamber. A thought strikes him, and he begins to carefully climb up ye cogs and through the mechanism, until he reaches ye cuckoo itself. He climbs onto ye giant model bird and waits for the hour to strike....
On ye hour, the doors open and the cuckoo flies out on a spring, making its call. Sir James leaps down and finds himself outside ye castle, at a small hut labelled "Skis".)
Sir James: Well, that's convenient. (Sir James emerges from ye hut wearing a pair of skis and carrying two Czechs.)
1st Czech: Put us down at once!
Sir James: Oh, sorry, my mistake. (He takes ye Czechs back into ye hut and emerges with two poles.)
Sir James: Ah, that's better! (He skis off down Pizza Gloria, but ist quickly spotted and followed by ye Comte's men.)
There is no need for a Blofeld to send pidgons if he also uses cannon fire and church bells as triggers for the hypnosis.
That was your idea! I copied it in nearly word for word! I'll fix the smalahove bit later. *
TP, love the clock idea- nice lateral thinking!
*Edit- done that, and slipped in a couple more lines as the maidens eat.
Mostly just offer plot ideas and the like, no need to quote me then. Sometimes I make suggestions that can be used word for word (but I can't write Shakespearian English), but then I try to use quotation marks.
I think the play is looking great, BTW. -{
I try to use as much as possible of everyone's ideas- I may miss a bit here or there, of course. And yes, this one is shaping up nicely!
This thread is open to ideas from everybody- don't worry about writing it in fakespeare, that'll be fixed up later. And even just one-line jokes are welcome, they can be fitted in somehow.
(He skis off down Pizza Gloria, but ist quickly spotted and followed by ye Comte's men.)
(In ye castle, ye Comte sits stroking his pussy.)
Gunther: Mein Comte, der Englander ist entkommen!
Comte: What? (Ye Comte leaps to his feet, sending ye white cat flying across the room.) How did this happen?
Gunther: I do not know, sire.
Comte: Well, I won't quarrel. Fetch my skis!
(Outside, ye Comte shouts to his men.)
Comte: At all costs he must be caught, alive or dead- now, move! (All set off, skiing downhill at great speed.)
Comte: Watch out for that man in ye green skis! (Thump.)
Gunther: Zu spat, mein Comte.
Comte: Never mind. Catch Sir James!
After Blofeld's "dead or alive" line we can steal a line from the Blues Brothers: "All unneccesary violence.... I repeat, all unneccesary voilence can be used against sir James!"
(Exit ye Comte and his men. Sir James immediately begins looking for ye way out of ye chamber. A thought strikes him, and he begins to carefully climb up ye cogs and through the mechanism, until he reaches ye cuckoo itself. He climbs onto ye giant model bird and waits for the hour to strike....
On ye hour, the doors open and the cuckoo flies out on a spring, making its call. Sir James leaps down.... )
Sir James : (aside) Time Flies !
( ..... and finds himself outside ye castle, at a small hut labelled "Skis, just missing a small dog.)
Sir James: Well, that's convenient. You must be the Watch Dog!
(Sir James emerges from ye hut wearing a pair of skis and carrying two Czechs.)
1st Czech: Put us down at once!
(Sir James drops one and he doth bounce back )
Sir James: I dislike Czechs that bounce but, sorry, my mistake.
(He takes ye Czechs back into ye hut and emerges with two poles.)
Sir James: Ah, that's better! It be all Down Hill from here.
(He skis off down Pizza Gloria, but ist quickly spotted and followed by ye Comte's men.)
"I've been informed that there ARE a couple of QAnon supporters who are fairly regular posters in AJB."
(He skis off down Pizza Gloria, but ist quickly spotted and followed by ye Comte's men.)
(In ye castle, ye Comte sits stroking his pussy.)
Gunther: Mein Comte, der Englander ist entkommen!
Comte: What? (Ye Comte leaps to his feet, sending ye white cat flying across the room.which
Bounces back at him ) I knew you couldn't swing a cat in here. How did this happen?
Gunther: I do not know, sire. Somehow he escaped from the easily escapable chambre. I think
in the clock tower he had time on his hands !
Comte: ( Aside ) hath anyone done a time flies line yet ?
Gunther : Aye My leige
Comte : Damn !! Well, I won't quarrel. Fetch my skis! and my cats skis too.
(Outside, ye Comte shouts to his men.)
Comte: At all costs he must be caught, alive or dead- now, move! You Mother ......
Yeoman 1 : What did he call us, OooH !! he can be so butch !
Yeoman 2 : He's a total Bear ! and doesn't have any Scruples ..
Yeoman 1 : .. Oh, I thought it was just Ear Lobes he did not have. Must be how he reaches those
High notes singing. I just hope I don't show us up, by skiing in to a tree or something.
(All set off, skiing downhill at great speed.)
Comte: Watch out for that man in ye green skis! (Thump.)
Gunther: Zu spat, mein Comte.
Comte: Never mind. Catch Sir James! He'll be heading for the village, to the precipice we
shall head !
Yeoman 2 : Precipice ? be that a new night club tavern
"I've been informed that there ARE a couple of QAnon supporters who are fairly regular posters in AJB."
And all of the above together (plus a little more):
Act 5, Scene 1. An easily-escapable chamber. Sir James ist thrown in by ye Comte’s men.
Comte: This be the workings of the world’s largest Cuckoo Clock, with many cogs. It be very dangerous, so please attire thineself with this hard hat and high viz doublet.
Sir James: Thee hast thought of everything, Comte.
Comte: Ah, time will tell- unlike thine Albion colleague, who ist now just a decoration so willst tell no-one! (On seeing his colleague hanging outside Sir James lunges at ye Comte.)
Comte: We didn't do that. On letting him go, he slipped on the curling track and fell off the edge. You wouldst not believe the amount of paperwork I have to fill in over that.
Sir James: Mine heart bleeds for thee.
Comte: Enjoy thine new abode, Sir James. I shalt keep ye here in case thou may prove useful later.
Sir James: On that thou should not count, Count. (Exit ye Comte and his men. Sir James immediately begins looking for ye way out of ye chamber. A thought strikes him, and he begins to carefully climb up ye cogs and through the mechanism, until he reaches ye cuckoo itself. He climbs onto ye giant model bird and waits for the hour to strike....
On ye hour, the doors open and the cuckoo flies out on a spring, making its call. Sir James leaps down...)
Sir James: (Aside.) Time Flies! (...and finds himself outside ye castle, at a small hut labelled "Skis".)
Sir James: Well, that's convenient. (Sir James emerges from ye hut wearing a pair of skis and carrying two Czechs.)
1st Czech: Put us down at once! (Sir James drops one and he doth bounce back.)
Sir James: I dislike Czechs that bounce but, sorry, my mistake. (He takes ye Czechs back into ye hut and emerges with two poles.)
Sir James: Ah, that's better! It be all downhill from here. (He skis off down Pizza Gloria, but ist quickly spotted and followed by ye Comte's men.)
(In ye castle, ye Comte sits stroking his pussy.)
Gunther: Mein Comte, der Englander ist entkommen!
Comte: What? (Ye Comte leaps to his feet, sending ye white cat flying across the room. It bounces back at him.) I knew you couldn't swing a cat in here. How did this happen?
Gunther: I do not know, sire. I think in the clock tower he had time on his hands!
Comte: (Aside.) Hath anyone done a "time flies" line yet?
Gunther: Aye, mine leige.
Comte: Damn!! Well, I won't quarrel. Fetch my skis! And my cat’s skis too.
(Outside, ye Comte shouts to his men.)
Comte: At all costs he must be caught, alive or dead- all unnecessary violence.... I repeat, all unnecessary violence can be used against Sir James! Now, move, you mother......
Yeoman 1: What did he call us, oooh!! He can be so butch!
Yeoman 2: He's a total bear! And doesn't have any scruples.
Yeoman 1: Oh, I thought it was just earlobes he did not have. Must be how he reaches those high notes singing. I just hope I don't show us up, by skiing in to a tree or something. (All set off, skiing downhill at great speed. Ye Comte's cat follows on tiny white skis, almost invisible against the snow.)
Comte: Watch out for that man in ye green skis! (Thump.)
Gunther: Zu spat, mein Comte.
Comte: Never mind, catch Sir James! He'll be heading for the village, to the precipice we shall head!
Yeoman 2: Precipice? Be that a new night club tavern? (Yeoman 1 skies into a tree.)
(Sir James skies on as fast as he can, but ye Comte's men are gaining. He almost skies off a precipice, but doth manage to stop in time. Spotting a skier approaching fast, he crouches and hits him with his pole just as ye man ist jumping, causing him to fall from ye precipice.)
Sir James: Tsk, tsk, no head for heights. Act 5, Scene 2.A snow-covered village.
(Sir James emerges into ye village, and stumbles towards an ice rink where many are skating. He spots Fraulein Irma and several yeomen approaching, and attempts to hide on a bench. A skater approaches...)
Contessa Theresa: Sir James!
Sir James: Tracy, how didst thee know I was here?
Contessa Theresa: Mine father did tell me where thou wert.
Sir James: I do hope thee hast thine carriage handy.
Contessa Theresa: But of course, pulled by mine trusty steed John.
Sir James: Then let us go there, apace! (Ye Contessa leads Sir James to her carriage, but they are spotted by Fraulein Irma and her men.)
Contessa Theresa: Apace, Sir James, into mine carriage! (They make off, with ye varlets in hot pursuit.)
A snowbound cabin.
Sir James: Here we must rest.
Contessa Theresa: Thou must impart to me what occurred on yon mountain, Sir James.
Sir James: Nay, I am in the service of Her Majesty, most discreetly.
Contessa Theresa: Yet at this moment thou canst not pursue such service.
Sir James: 'Tis true. A lady such as thee I shall never find again. Willst thou be mine wife?
Contessa Theresa: That I will, though thou must refrain from the eating of garlic.
The chase continues, and of course Tracy is captured.
(Sir James skies frantically down ye berg, ye Comte's men in hot pursuit. One ist in a sled, pulled by a team of huskies, and gets closer and closer. Sir James reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a piece of a piece of Pizza Pizza Gloria he had been saving for later. He throws it into ye snow, and ye huskies come to a sudden halt to eat, sending ye varlet flying over their heads and into a tree.)
Sir James: He had a lot of mutts!
(Sir James emerges into ye village, and stumbles towards an ice rink where many are skating. He spots Fraulein Irma and several yeomen approaching, and attempts to hide on a bench. A skater approaches...)
Contessa Theresa: Sir James!
Sir James: Tracy, how didst thee know I was here?
Contessa Theresa: Mine carriage hath navigation built in. Homing pigeons guiding the horse.
and Mine father did tell me where thou wert.
Sir James: I do hope thee hast thine carriage handy.
Contessa Theresa: But of course, pulled by mine trusty steed John. It be parked over there in
the lobby of that cowbell emporium.
Sir James: Hells Bells ! ... Then let us go there, apace!
(Ye Contessa leads Sir James to her carriage, but they are spotted by Fraulein Irma and her men.)
Contessa Theresa: Apace, Sir James, into mine carriage!
(They make off, with ye varlets in hot pursuit.)
"I've been informed that there ARE a couple of QAnon supporters who are fairly regular posters in AJB."
(They make off, with ye varlets in hot pursuit.)
Sir James: Down that road, I prithee! (Ye Contessa steers her carriage as Sir James bids, only to find they art in ye midst of a gymkhana. Ye varlets attempt to catch them, but are surrounded by horses doing dressage and are too polite to interrupt, permitting Contessa Theresa and Sir James to make an escape.)
(Later, outside a snowbound cabin.)
Sir James: Yonder cabin looks safe, Tracy- here we should rest.
Contessa Theresa: Aye, good idea. (They enter ye cabin and lie down for ye night.)
Contessa Theresa: Thou must impart to me what occurred on yon berg, Sir James.
Sir James: Nay, I am yet in the service of Her Majesty, most discreetly.
Contessa Theresa: Though at this moment thou canst not follow such service?
Sir James: 'Tis true. Tracy, a lady such as thee I shall never find again. Willst thou be mine wife?
Contessa Theresa: That I will, though thou must refrain from the eating of garlic.
Sir James: Fair enough. (They embrace, and after a discreet interval ye Comte de Blofeld and his men burst into ye cabin only to find it empty.)
Gunther: There, mein Comte, I see them skiing away.
Comte: After them! (Sir James and Contessa Theresa ski through ye snow, with ye Comte de Blofeld and his men pursuing, the white cat puffing and panting behind on her tiny skis.)
Comte: Halt! I hath an idea! (Ye Comte pulls a megaphone from his pocket and begins to sing.)
Comte: For I-ee-I-ee-I willst always love thee..
1st Yeoman: Oh, 'tis beautiful, mine liege!
Comte: (Aside.) Shh! (Sings.) Oh, I-ee-I-ee-I... (Ye vibrations cause an avalanche to start, burying Sir James and ye Contessa.)
Comte: After them! (Sir James manages to pull himself from ye snow in time to see Contessa Theresa being dragged away.)
Sir James: Down that road, I prithee!
(Ye Contessa steers her carriage as Sir James bids, only to find they art in ye midst of a gymkhana. Ye varlets attempt to catch them, but are surrounded by horses doing dressage and are too polite to interrupt, permitting Contessa Theresa and Sir James to make an escape.)
(Later, outside a snowbound cabin.)
Sir James: Yonder cabin looks safe, Tracy- here we should rest.
Contessa Theresa: Aye, good idea.
(They enter ye cabin to lie down for ye night.)
Sir James : First I have to, drop the harness......
Contessa Theresa: There be'ist a privy out back, me thinks.
Sir James : .... and rub down the horse.
Contessa Theresa: Thou must impart to me what occurred on yon berg, Sir James.
Sir James: Nay, I am yet in the service of Her Majesty, most discreetly.
Contessa Theresa: Though at this moment thou canst not follow such service?
Sir James: 'Tis true. Tracy, a lady such as thee I shall never find again. I woud'st have thine
Hand !
Contessa Theresa: Really James, The be'ith no one about, thee can have much more than just mine hand !
Sir James : Pardon M'Lady, I speak of nuptials
Contessa Theresa: Aye, thine nuptials will be in safe hands. I'll warmith them up.( She rubs her hands together )
Sir James : Nay, .... I want thee for mine wife.
Contessa Theresa: A fine time to tell me you're married Sir James !!
Sir James : Nay, .. Willst thou be mine wife?
Contessa Theresa: That I will, though thou must refrain from the eating of garlic.
Sir James: Fair enough. Verily, I shal't stick to the condiments of the season
(They embrace, and after a discreet interval ye Comte de Blofeld and his men burst into ye cabin only to find it empty.)
Gunther: There, mein Comte, I see them skiing away.
Comte: After them!
(Sir James and Contessa Theresa ski through ye snow, with ye Comte de Blofeld and his men pursuing, the white cat puffing and panting behind on her tiny skis.)
Comte: Halt! I hath an idea!
(Ye Comte pulls a megaphone from his pocket and begins to sing.)
Comte: For I-ee-I-ee-I willst always love thee..
1st Yeoman: Oh, 'tis beautiful, mine liege!
Comte: (Aside.) Shh! (Sings.) Oh, I-ee-I-ee-I...
(Ye vibrations cause an avalanche to start, burying Sir James and ye Contessa.)
Comte: After them!
(Sir James manages to pull himself from ye snow in time to see Contessa Theresa being dragged away.)
"I've been informed that there ARE a couple of QAnon supporters who are fairly regular posters in AJB."
Act 5, Scene 2. Ye throne room of Sir Miles Messervy.
Sir Miles: We have received notification of ye Comte de Blofeld’s demands. He doth wish absolution for all his previous misdeeds, recognition of his title, free parking at all major events, and final say on ye casting of Bond25.
Sir James: The fiend! Hast he said who will be composing ye score?
Sir Miles: Ssh! If we do not concede, then he willst unleash his plan using ye maidens, potatoes and chickens.
Sir James: We must fowl his intentions, or we will have had our chips. Mine liege, allow me to launch an attack upon his castle and-
Sir Miles: Nay, Naught Naught Seven, his castle ist in Switzerland and ye Swiss will turn red and be very cross.
Sir James: But, mine liege-
Sir Miles: ‘Tis a direct order from ye government, alas mine hands are tied. We shalt, of course, attempt to watch for all those maidens arriving. Now, where didst thou say they were from, Naught Naught Seven?
Sir James: One from India, one from Australia, one from Scandinavia, one from Japan, one from Germany. One each from Ireland, Wales and Scotland. One from NW England, one from NE England, one from SW England, one from SE England, one from slightly to ye west of ye middle of England, one from slightly to ye east of ye middle of England, one from NW London, one from NE London, one from SW London, one from SE London, one from slightly to ye west of ye middle of London, one from slightly to ye east of ye middle of London, one from ye upper middle of London, one from ye lower middle of London, one from Essex, one from Middlesex, one from Sussex.
Sir Miles: Hmm, the entire globe!
Sir James: Aye, according to ye BBC anyway.
Sir Miles: Old Wizard, dost thee think ye Comte’s plan wouldst succeed?
Old Wizard: Aye, ‘tis possible. He must have created a mutant strain of chickenpox, crossing it with ye mumps. Oh well, no more potatoes and chicken for me- I shalt have to eat pig! Fortunately I am very fond of ye Chinese speciality, char siu.
Sir James: Char siu? Thou must be jesting!
Old Wizard: I ne’er jest about my pork, Naught Naught Seven.
Sir Miles: Thou should try and rest, Naught Naught Seven, officially we can do nothing.
Sir James: Hmm....
Act 5, Scene 3. Sir James sits in a sleigh with Prince Draco and his men, heading up Pizza Gloria. More sleighs full of Prince Draco’s men follow.
Prince Draco: But art thou sure Tracy ist here, Sir James?
Sir James: Most sure, for where else could she be? (An arrow hits their sleigh.)
Chi-Chi: Mine prince, ‘tis a message tied to an arrow.
Prince Draco: Read it!
Chi-Chi: (Reading.) “Made by ye Swiss Arrow Company.”
Prince Draco: Not ye arrow, ye message!
Chi-Chi: Oh. (Reading.) “Turn ye back at once. Thou art on private property. Have a nice day.”
Prince Draco: Prepare an arrow to send back. Tell them “Special delivery for thine neighbour on ye next berg, wouldst thee sign for it please. Draco Deliveries.”
(In ye castle.)
Comte: Thou may as well enjoy thine captivity, Contessa. Let me sing to thee!
Contessa Theresa: ‘Twill not be long before I am rescued from thine clutches.
Comte: Sir James would ne’er dare to return here. (Enter Gunther.)
Gunther: Mein Comte, ye intruders have replied to the arrow we sent them.
Comte: What do they say?
Gunther: (Reading.) “Special delivery for thine neighbour on ye next berg, wouldst thee sign for it please. Draco Deliveries.” (Ye Contessa looks up.)
Comte: Again? They are never home, I am fed up always having to sign for their deliveries! They do seem to order often from Brazil.
Gunther: Brazil?
Comte: Aye, ye label says something about ye Amazon.
Contessa Theresa: Comte de Blofeld, most desirous I am to see ye dawn from the top of thine castle. Wouldst thee take me there?
Comte: But of course.
(Ye Comte leads ye Contessa up to the battlements.)
Contessa: Thy dawn, oh Master of the World.
Comte: You think so? Oh, thou art too kind. Ah, here comes yon delivery- over here, over here.
Prince Draco: Here ist thine delivery, Comte de Blofeld! (Prince Draco and his men leap from their sleighs and attack. Sir James slides on his stomach towards ye Comte, who promptly runs off with Sir James in pursuit.)
Contessa Theresa: James, wait for me!
Prince Draco: Nay, Theresa, come to ye sleigh with me.
Contessa Theresa: But I must follow Sir- (Prince Draco deals her a swift uppercut, knocking her unconscious.)
Prince Draco: Chi-Chi, put her in the sleigh.
Chi-Chi: She will give thee hell when she wakes up, mine Prince.
Prince Draco: I know, I know....
Maybe Bond sketches the map of the world that shows where the Angels of Death are while Pizza Gloria us boring down? (The medieval version of 007 taking photos if the map. But this time it take slightly more time...)
Prince Draco: Chi-Chi, put her in the sleigh.
Chi-Chi: She will give thee hell when she wakes up, mine Prince.
Prince Draco: I know, I know.... I must tell ye men to start igniting ye gunpowder and blow this castle to hell!
(Ye Comte de Blofeld runs from room to room, Sir James only pausing to make quick sketches of ye tapestries showing where all ye maidens were sent, and finally dives through a small window into ye snow outside as ye castle blows up. Sir James follows.)
Sir James: Thou canst not escape, Comte!
Comte: You thinkest not? (He grabs a small toboggan from a handy pile of them.) This'll sleigh ye! (Ye Comte sets off downhill at a great pace. Sir James finds another toboggan and chases afterwards, catching up quickly, and leaps onto ye Comte’s toboggan. The two struggle, with ye Comte gaining the upper hand until he ist caught by his neck in a low hanging tree. The toboggan carrying Sir James ploughs on, till it crashes into a snowdrift. Sir James climbs shakily out, only to be greeted by a friendly St Bernard dog.)
Sir James: Aw, thou art so cute! Didst thee bring any brandy? (Ye dog begins to hump Sir James’s leg.)
Sir James: Ah... ok.... enough now... down, boy...
Nice, but we can make more jokes about the sketch. It take time and Bond is torn between chasing Blofeld and drawing. Something along the lines of: "Good Lord, why are there so many islands, rivers and mountains?"
"Time is short. I will just draw the fjord the maiden lives in, and find the correct one later. How hard can it be?"
You can probably do it better.
Comments
infertile ( I know it's the mumps, but it doesn't have to be true ) and with
infected potatoes full of female "Extract" to increase the number of women
through out the world. ?
Sir James: (Mumbling.) ....hold me, Felix. Hold me tight. I have seen things you people would never believe. I have seen...... horrible visions. Don't let go of me, Felix....(Awakes.) ....ah.
Comte: Good evening, Naught Naught Seven.
Sir James: But I am Sir Hilary Bray, Baronet.
Comte de Blofeld: Nay, nay, nay, for through thine disguise of... 8-) glasses... I have seen.
Sir James: Well, it works for Sir Clark of Kent.
Comte: ..and how thee occasionally slips into a fake Antipodean accent.
(Sir James looks hurt.)
Comte: Most truly thou ist not Sir Hilary Bray, since thee has been most occupied with the seduction of young maidens. Also thine climbing colleague hast been most forthright in his announcements of the great Naught Naught Seven!
Sir James: Did'st he really say I was great? That's really nice of him.... er, I mean, I know naught of this Campbell person....... but he will report my whereabouts.
Comte: I think not. Before letting him go. I did make him swear he would'st not tell a soul. Even shook pinkies on it. So NO! help will be forthcoming for ye.
(Sir James looks taken aback at the news.)
Comte: So you see nothing shalt interfere with my plans....... This Time!
Sir James: And what art thou up to here, Comte? I did hear thee singing about a friggin' chickasee... er, I mean a chicken fricasee.
Comte: Ye maidens are at Pizza Gloria to treat their allergies, including potatoes and smalahove.
Sir James: And ye chickens?
Comte: Ye chickens art most vital to mine plans, Naught Naught Seven, as are those beautiful maidens whom I have conditioned to speak their own mind and have a say in their lives. Can you imagine? Society would unravel, kingdoms would fall, morals as we know them would disappear.
Sir James: Aye, aye, and ye chickens?
Comte: Pens and paper have been cunningly hidden in the maidens' make-up boxes- in ye hands of a woman they are objects of catholic mass destruction! Ye maidens will recieve a message by a carrier pigeon, and ye trigger will be church bells and cannon fire. I shalt, of course, make sure that none of this kicks in anywhere near myself.
Sir James: I see... and what about ye chickens?
Comte: Ah, that ist my masterstroke! Ye chickens shall enforce the emancipation of women by causing the spread of chickenpox to turn men infertile! And with infected potatoes full of female "Extract" to increase the number of women throughout the world, all will be changed! Unless, of course, I am paid what I ask for.
Sir James: How many pieces of gold doth thou demand, Comte?
Comte de Blofeld: In this I will cause thee much surprise, Sir James. Now my men shalt guide thee to an easily-escapable chamber.
I don't get the bit about catholic mass destruction, N24????
That was fun, everyone chipping in to expand that scene!
Now....
Act 5, Scene 1. An easily-escapable chamber. Sir James ist thrown in by ye Comte’s men.
Comte: Enjoy thine new abode, Sir James. I shalt keep ye here in case thou may prove useful later.
Sir James: On that thou should not count, Count.
(Exit ye Comte and his men. Sir James immediately begins looking for ye way out of ye chamber.)
He does find a way out, then a pair of skis, and heads off down the berg pursued by Blofeld’s men and eventually Blofeld himself. As we know, he’ll meet Tracy at the bottom and the chase continues.
Comte : This be the working of the worlds largest Coco Clock, with many cogs, so it be
very dangerous, so please attire thine self with this hard hat and high viz doublet !
Sir James : Thee hast thought of everthing Comte.
Comte : Ah, Time will tell, unlike thine Albion colleague, who is't now just a decoration.
so wilst Tell no one !
( on seeing hs colleage hanging outside Sir James lunges st the Comte )
Comte : We didn't do that, on letting him go, he slipped on the curling track and fell off the edge.
you would'st not believe the amount of paper work I have to fill in over that.
( Two yeomen push Sir James in to the chambre )
Comte: Enjoy thine new abode, Sir James. I shalt keep ye here in case thou may prove useful later.
Sir James: On that thou should not count, Count.
(Exit ye Comte and his men. Sir James immediately begins looking for ye way out of ye chamber.)
There is no need for a Blofeld to send pidgons if he also uses cannon fire and church bells as triggers for the hypnosis.
The part about smalahove allergies being crippeling in Norway will probably work better if the girl who has that allergi sails it when she meet Bond. She might also say she has been warned the Number 24 signals mortal danger for her, but I might be the only one to apriciate the joke.
That was your idea! I copied it in nearly word for word! I'll fix the smalahove bit later. *
TP, love the clock idea- nice lateral thinking!
*Edit- done that, and slipped in a couple more lines as the maidens eat.
On ye hour, the doors open and the cuckoo flies out on a spring, making its call. Sir James leaps down and finds himself outside ye castle, at a small hut labelled "Skis".)
Sir James: Well, that's convenient.
(Sir James emerges from ye hut wearing a pair of skis and carrying two Czechs.)
1st Czech: Put us down at once!
Sir James: Oh, sorry, my mistake.
(He takes ye Czechs back into ye hut and emerges with two poles.)
Sir James: Ah, that's better!
(He skis off down Pizza Gloria, but ist quickly spotted and followed by ye Comte's men.)
Mostly just offer plot ideas and the like, no need to quote me then. Sometimes I make suggestions that can be used word for word (but I can't write Shakespearian English), but then I try to use quotation marks.
I think the play is looking great, BTW. -{
This thread is open to ideas from everybody- don't worry about writing it in fakespeare, that'll be fixed up later. And even just one-line jokes are welcome, they can be fitted in somehow.
(In ye castle, ye Comte sits stroking his pussy.)
Gunther: Mein Comte, der Englander ist entkommen!
Comte: What? (Ye Comte leaps to his feet, sending ye white cat flying across the room.) How did this happen?
Gunther: I do not know, sire.
Comte: Well, I won't quarrel. Fetch my skis!
(Outside, ye Comte shouts to his men.)
Comte: At all costs he must be caught, alive or dead- now, move!
(All set off, skiing downhill at great speed.)
Comte: Watch out for that man in ye green skis! (Thump.)
Gunther: Zu spat, mein Comte.
Comte: Never mind. Catch Sir James!
On ye hour, the doors open and the cuckoo flies out on a spring, making its call. Sir James leaps down.... )
Sir James : (aside) Time Flies !
( ..... and finds himself outside ye castle, at a small hut labelled "Skis, just missing a small dog.)
Sir James: Well, that's convenient. You must be the Watch Dog!
(Sir James emerges from ye hut wearing a pair of skis and carrying two Czechs.)
1st Czech: Put us down at once!
(Sir James drops one and he doth bounce back )
Sir James: I dislike Czechs that bounce but, sorry, my mistake.
(He takes ye Czechs back into ye hut and emerges with two poles.)
Sir James: Ah, that's better! It be all Down Hill from here.
(He skis off down Pizza Gloria, but ist quickly spotted and followed by ye Comte's men.)
(In ye castle, ye Comte sits stroking his pussy.)
Gunther: Mein Comte, der Englander ist entkommen!
Comte: What? (Ye Comte leaps to his feet, sending ye white cat flying across the room.which
Bounces back at him ) I knew you couldn't swing a cat in here. How did this happen?
Gunther: I do not know, sire. Somehow he escaped from the easily escapable chambre. I think
in the clock tower he had time on his hands !
Comte: ( Aside ) hath anyone done a time flies line yet ?
Gunther : Aye My leige
Comte : Damn !! Well, I won't quarrel. Fetch my skis! and my cats skis too.
(Outside, ye Comte shouts to his men.)
Comte: At all costs he must be caught, alive or dead- now, move! You Mother ......
Yeoman 1 : What did he call us, OooH !! he can be so butch !
Yeoman 2 : He's a total Bear ! and doesn't have any Scruples ..
Yeoman 1 : .. Oh, I thought it was just Ear Lobes he did not have. Must be how he reaches those
High notes singing. I just hope I don't show us up, by skiing in to a tree or something.
(All set off, skiing downhill at great speed.)
Comte: Watch out for that man in ye green skis! (Thump.)
Gunther: Zu spat, mein Comte.
Comte: Never mind. Catch Sir James! He'll be heading for the village, to the precipice we
shall head !
Yeoman 2 : Precipice ? be that a new night club tavern
Act 5, Scene 1. An easily-escapable chamber. Sir James ist thrown in by ye Comte’s men.
Comte: This be the workings of the world’s largest Cuckoo Clock, with many cogs. It be very dangerous, so please attire thineself with this hard hat and high viz doublet.
Sir James: Thee hast thought of everything, Comte.
Comte: Ah, time will tell- unlike thine Albion colleague, who ist now just a decoration so willst tell no-one!
(On seeing his colleague hanging outside Sir James lunges at ye Comte.)
Comte: We didn't do that. On letting him go, he slipped on the curling track and fell off the edge. You wouldst not believe the amount of paperwork I have to fill in over that.
Sir James: Mine heart bleeds for thee.
Comte: Enjoy thine new abode, Sir James. I shalt keep ye here in case thou may prove useful later.
Sir James: On that thou should not count, Count.
(Exit ye Comte and his men. Sir James immediately begins looking for ye way out of ye chamber. A thought strikes him, and he begins to carefully climb up ye cogs and through the mechanism, until he reaches ye cuckoo itself. He climbs onto ye giant model bird and waits for the hour to strike....
On ye hour, the doors open and the cuckoo flies out on a spring, making its call. Sir James leaps down...)
Sir James: (Aside.) Time Flies!
(...and finds himself outside ye castle, at a small hut labelled "Skis".)
Sir James: Well, that's convenient.
(Sir James emerges from ye hut wearing a pair of skis and carrying two Czechs.)
1st Czech: Put us down at once!
(Sir James drops one and he doth bounce back.)
Sir James: I dislike Czechs that bounce but, sorry, my mistake.
(He takes ye Czechs back into ye hut and emerges with two poles.)
Sir James: Ah, that's better! It be all downhill from here.
(He skis off down Pizza Gloria, but ist quickly spotted and followed by ye Comte's men.)
(In ye castle, ye Comte sits stroking his pussy.)
Gunther: Mein Comte, der Englander ist entkommen!
Comte: What? (Ye Comte leaps to his feet, sending ye white cat flying across the room. It bounces back at him.) I knew you couldn't swing a cat in here. How did this happen?
Gunther: I do not know, sire. I think in the clock tower he had time on his hands!
Comte: (Aside.) Hath anyone done a "time flies" line yet?
Gunther: Aye, mine leige.
Comte: Damn!! Well, I won't quarrel. Fetch my skis! And my cat’s skis too.
(Outside, ye Comte shouts to his men.)
Comte: At all costs he must be caught, alive or dead- all unnecessary violence.... I repeat, all unnecessary violence can be used against Sir James! Now, move, you mother......
Yeoman 1: What did he call us, oooh!! He can be so butch!
Yeoman 2: He's a total bear! And doesn't have any scruples.
Yeoman 1: Oh, I thought it was just earlobes he did not have. Must be how he reaches those high notes singing. I just hope I don't show us up, by skiing in to a tree or something.
(All set off, skiing downhill at great speed. Ye Comte's cat follows on tiny white skis, almost invisible against the snow.)
Comte: Watch out for that man in ye green skis! (Thump.)
Gunther: Zu spat, mein Comte.
Comte: Never mind, catch Sir James! He'll be heading for the village, to the precipice we shall head!
Yeoman 2: Precipice? Be that a new night club tavern?
(Yeoman 1 skies into a tree.)
(Sir James skies on as fast as he can, but ye Comte's men are gaining. He almost skies off a precipice, but doth manage to stop in time. Spotting a skier approaching fast, he crouches and hits him with his pole just as ye man ist jumping, causing him to fall from ye precipice.)
Sir James: Tsk, tsk, no head for heights.
Act 5, Scene 2.A snow-covered village.
(Sir James emerges into ye village, and stumbles towards an ice rink where many are skating. He spots Fraulein Irma and several yeomen approaching, and attempts to hide on a bench. A skater approaches...)
Contessa Theresa: Sir James!
Sir James: Tracy, how didst thee know I was here?
Contessa Theresa: Mine father did tell me where thou wert.
Sir James: I do hope thee hast thine carriage handy.
Contessa Theresa: But of course, pulled by mine trusty steed John.
Sir James: Then let us go there, apace!
(Ye Contessa leads Sir James to her carriage, but they are spotted by Fraulein Irma and her men.)
Contessa Theresa: Apace, Sir James, into mine carriage!
(They make off, with ye varlets in hot pursuit.)
A snowbound cabin.
Sir James: Here we must rest.
Contessa Theresa: Thou must impart to me what occurred on yon mountain, Sir James.
Sir James: Nay, I am in the service of Her Majesty, most discreetly.
Contessa Theresa: Yet at this moment thou canst not pursue such service.
Sir James: 'Tis true. A lady such as thee I shall never find again. Willst thou be mine wife?
Contessa Theresa: That I will, though thou must refrain from the eating of garlic.
The chase continues, and of course Tracy is captured.
Sir James: He had a lot of mutts!
(Sir James emerges into ye village, and stumbles towards an ice rink where many are skating. He spots Fraulein Irma and several yeomen approaching, and attempts to hide on a bench. A skater approaches...)
Contessa Theresa: Sir James!
Sir James: Tracy, how didst thee know I was here?
Contessa Theresa: Mine carriage hath navigation built in. Homing pigeons guiding the horse.
and Mine father did tell me where thou wert.
Sir James: I do hope thee hast thine carriage handy.
Contessa Theresa: But of course, pulled by mine trusty steed John. It be parked over there in
the lobby of that cowbell emporium.
Sir James: Hells Bells ! ... Then let us go there, apace!
(Ye Contessa leads Sir James to her carriage, but they are spotted by Fraulein Irma and her men.)
Contessa Theresa: Apace, Sir James, into mine carriage!
(They make off, with ye varlets in hot pursuit.)
Sir James: Down that road, I prithee!
(Ye Contessa steers her carriage as Sir James bids, only to find they art in ye midst of a gymkhana. Ye varlets attempt to catch them, but are surrounded by horses doing dressage and are too polite to interrupt, permitting Contessa Theresa and Sir James to make an escape.)
(Later, outside a snowbound cabin.)
Sir James: Yonder cabin looks safe, Tracy- here we should rest.
Contessa Theresa: Aye, good idea.
(They enter ye cabin and lie down for ye night.)
Contessa Theresa: Thou must impart to me what occurred on yon berg, Sir James.
Sir James: Nay, I am yet in the service of Her Majesty, most discreetly.
Contessa Theresa: Though at this moment thou canst not follow such service?
Sir James: 'Tis true. Tracy, a lady such as thee I shall never find again. Willst thou be mine wife?
Contessa Theresa: That I will, though thou must refrain from the eating of garlic.
Sir James: Fair enough.
(They embrace, and after a discreet interval ye Comte de Blofeld and his men burst into ye cabin only to find it empty.)
Gunther: There, mein Comte, I see them skiing away.
Comte: After them!
(Sir James and Contessa Theresa ski through ye snow, with ye Comte de Blofeld and his men pursuing, the white cat puffing and panting behind on her tiny skis.)
Comte: Halt! I hath an idea!
(Ye Comte pulls a megaphone from his pocket and begins to sing.)
Comte: For I-ee-I-ee-I willst always love thee..
1st Yeoman: Oh, 'tis beautiful, mine liege!
Comte: (Aside.) Shh! (Sings.) Oh, I-ee-I-ee-I...
(Ye vibrations cause an avalanche to start, burying Sir James and ye Contessa.)
Comte: After them!
(Sir James manages to pull himself from ye snow in time to see Contessa Theresa being dragged away.)
Sir James: Down that road, I prithee!
(Ye Contessa steers her carriage as Sir James bids, only to find they art in ye midst of a gymkhana. Ye varlets attempt to catch them, but are surrounded by horses doing dressage and are too polite to interrupt, permitting Contessa Theresa and Sir James to make an escape.)
(Later, outside a snowbound cabin.)
Sir James: Yonder cabin looks safe, Tracy- here we should rest.
Contessa Theresa: Aye, good idea.
(They enter ye cabin to lie down for ye night.)
Sir James : First I have to, drop the harness......
Contessa Theresa: There be'ist a privy out back, me thinks.
Sir James : .... and rub down the horse.
Contessa Theresa: Thou must impart to me what occurred on yon berg, Sir James.
Sir James: Nay, I am yet in the service of Her Majesty, most discreetly.
Contessa Theresa: Though at this moment thou canst not follow such service?
Sir James: 'Tis true. Tracy, a lady such as thee I shall never find again. I woud'st have thine
Hand !
Contessa Theresa: Really James, The be'ith no one about, thee can have much more than just mine hand !
Sir James : Pardon M'Lady, I speak of nuptials
Contessa Theresa: Aye, thine nuptials will be in safe hands. I'll warmith them up.( She rubs her hands together )
Sir James : Nay, .... I want thee for mine wife.
Contessa Theresa: A fine time to tell me you're married Sir James !!
Sir James : Nay, .. Willst thou be mine wife?
Contessa Theresa: That I will, though thou must refrain from the eating of garlic.
Sir James: Fair enough. Verily, I shal't stick to the condiments of the season
(They embrace, and after a discreet interval ye Comte de Blofeld and his men burst into ye cabin only to find it empty.)
Gunther: There, mein Comte, I see them skiing away.
Comte: After them!
(Sir James and Contessa Theresa ski through ye snow, with ye Comte de Blofeld and his men pursuing, the white cat puffing and panting behind on her tiny skis.)
Comte: Halt! I hath an idea!
(Ye Comte pulls a megaphone from his pocket and begins to sing.)
Comte: For I-ee-I-ee-I willst always love thee..
1st Yeoman: Oh, 'tis beautiful, mine liege!
Comte: (Aside.) Shh! (Sings.) Oh, I-ee-I-ee-I...
(Ye vibrations cause an avalanche to start, burying Sir James and ye Contessa.)
Comte: After them!
(Sir James manages to pull himself from ye snow in time to see Contessa Theresa being dragged away.)
Act 5, Scene 2. Ye throne room of Sir Miles Messervy.
Sir Miles: We have received notification of ye Comte de Blofeld’s demands. He doth wish absolution for all his previous misdeeds, recognition of his title, free parking at all major events, and final say on ye casting of Bond25.
Sir James: The fiend! Hast he said who will be composing ye score?
Sir Miles: Ssh! If we do not concede, then he willst unleash his plan using ye maidens, potatoes and chickens.
Sir James: We must fowl his intentions, or we will have had our chips. Mine liege, allow me to launch an attack upon his castle and-
Sir Miles: Nay, Naught Naught Seven, his castle ist in Switzerland and ye Swiss will turn red and be very cross.
Sir James: But, mine liege-
Sir Miles: ‘Tis a direct order from ye government, alas mine hands are tied. We shalt, of course, attempt to watch for all those maidens arriving. Now, where didst thou say they were from, Naught Naught Seven?
Sir James: One from India, one from Australia, one from Scandinavia, one from Japan, one from Germany. One each from Ireland, Wales and Scotland. One from NW England, one from NE England, one from SW England, one from SE England, one from slightly to ye west of ye middle of England, one from slightly to ye east of ye middle of England, one from NW London, one from NE London, one from SW London, one from SE London, one from slightly to ye west of ye middle of London, one from slightly to ye east of ye middle of London, one from ye upper middle of London, one from ye lower middle of London, one from Essex, one from Middlesex, one from Sussex.
Sir Miles: Hmm, the entire globe!
Sir James: Aye, according to ye BBC anyway.
Sir Miles: Old Wizard, dost thee think ye Comte’s plan wouldst succeed?
Old Wizard: Aye, ‘tis possible. He must have created a mutant strain of chickenpox, crossing it with ye mumps. Oh well, no more potatoes and chicken for me- I shalt have to eat pig! Fortunately I am very fond of ye Chinese speciality, char siu.
Sir James: Char siu? Thou must be jesting!
Old Wizard: I ne’er jest about my pork, Naught Naught Seven.
Sir Miles: Thou should try and rest, Naught Naught Seven, officially we can do nothing.
Sir James: Hmm....
Prince Draco: But art thou sure Tracy ist here, Sir James?
Sir James: Most sure, for where else could she be?
(An arrow hits their sleigh.)
Chi-Chi: Mine prince, ‘tis a message tied to an arrow.
Prince Draco: Read it!
Chi-Chi: (Reading.) “Made by ye Swiss Arrow Company.”
Prince Draco: Not ye arrow, ye message!
Chi-Chi: Oh. (Reading.) “Turn ye back at once. Thou art on private property. Have a nice day.”
Prince Draco: Prepare an arrow to send back. Tell them “Special delivery for thine neighbour on ye next berg, wouldst thee sign for it please. Draco Deliveries.”
(In ye castle.)
Comte: Thou may as well enjoy thine captivity, Contessa. Let me sing to thee!
Contessa Theresa: ‘Twill not be long before I am rescued from thine clutches.
Comte: Sir James would ne’er dare to return here.
(Enter Gunther.)
Gunther: Mein Comte, ye intruders have replied to the arrow we sent them.
Comte: What do they say?
Gunther: (Reading.) “Special delivery for thine neighbour on ye next berg, wouldst thee sign for it please. Draco Deliveries.”
(Ye Contessa looks up.)
Comte: Again? They are never home, I am fed up always having to sign for their deliveries! They do seem to order often from Brazil.
Gunther: Brazil?
Comte: Aye, ye label says something about ye Amazon.
Contessa Theresa: Comte de Blofeld, most desirous I am to see ye dawn from the top of thine castle. Wouldst thee take me there?
Comte: But of course.
(Ye Comte leads ye Contessa up to the battlements.)
Contessa: Thy dawn, oh Master of the World.
Comte: You think so? Oh, thou art too kind. Ah, here comes yon delivery- over here, over here.
Prince Draco: Here ist thine delivery, Comte de Blofeld!
(Prince Draco and his men leap from their sleighs and attack. Sir James slides on his stomach towards ye Comte, who promptly runs off with Sir James in pursuit.)
Contessa Theresa: James, wait for me!
Prince Draco: Nay, Theresa, come to ye sleigh with me.
Contessa Theresa: But I must follow Sir-
(Prince Draco deals her a swift uppercut, knocking her unconscious.)
Prince Draco: Chi-Chi, put her in the sleigh.
Chi-Chi: She will give thee hell when she wakes up, mine Prince.
Prince Draco: I know, I know....
Prince Draco: Chi-Chi, put her in the sleigh.
Chi-Chi: She will give thee hell when she wakes up, mine Prince.
Prince Draco: I know, I know.... I must tell ye men to start igniting ye gunpowder and blow this castle to hell!
(Ye Comte de Blofeld runs from room to room, Sir James only pausing to make quick sketches of ye tapestries showing where all ye maidens were sent, and finally dives through a small window into ye snow outside as ye castle blows up. Sir James follows.)
Sir James: Thou canst not escape, Comte!
Comte: You thinkest not? (He grabs a small toboggan from a handy pile of them.) This'll sleigh ye!
(Ye Comte sets off downhill at a great pace. Sir James finds another toboggan and chases afterwards, catching up quickly, and leaps onto ye Comte’s toboggan. The two struggle, with ye Comte gaining the upper hand until he ist caught by his neck in a low hanging tree. The toboggan carrying Sir James ploughs on, till it crashes into a snowdrift. Sir James climbs shakily out, only to be greeted by a friendly St Bernard dog.)
Sir James: Aw, thou art so cute! Didst thee bring any brandy?
(Ye dog begins to hump Sir James’s leg.)
Sir James: Ah... ok.... enough now... down, boy...
"Time is short. I will just draw the fjord the maiden lives in, and find the correct one later. How hard can it be?"
You can probably do it better.