thanks @boss! now I definitely want to see this film!
and for the photo of Belushi spitting the potatoes, made me crack up before I even started reading. Looking at that image now, its so disgusting I cant imagine they got away with including it in an an actual film, but when I was thirteen years old that influential role model was the cause of a heckuva lotta messes in my high school cafeteria.
____________________________
EDIT: sorry Boss, I turned the page. barbel's "what if John Landis wrote The Spy Who Loved Me" spoof is here, last post of the previous page. I'd hate to see that hard work get missed!
Thank you, caractacus, I am very glad you enjoyed that.
100 pages! Another milestone I hadn't anticipated. But wait... We have turned a new page, as caractacus said above, and that means I can hear footsteps pacing up and down....
1963. The household of Peter Burton. He is pacing up and down, never getting too far away from the telephone. His wife watches concernedly.
Mrs Burton: Oh sit down, Peter.
Peter: I can’t, I just can’t.
Mrs Burton: Relax, why don’t you.
Peter: Relax? How can I relax?
Mrs Burton: Sit down and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.
Peter: Tea? How can I think of tea at a time like this?
Mrs Burton: A time like this? Look, if they want you they’ll phone you.
Peter: They’ve got to want me, they’ve got to!
Mrs Burton: What makes you say that, my love?
Peter: Look, you remember I was in a film called “Dr No”?
Mrs Burton: Yes, of course I remember.
Peter: I played a character called Major Boothroyd. I gave the hero, James Bond, a new gun- a Walther PPK.
Mrs Burton: Yes, I remember that.
Peter: And now I’ve heard that they’re going to make another film about James Bond.
Mrs Burton: And you think you have to give him another Walther PPK?
Peter: Yes, he lost his on some island- no, no, that’s not what I mean at all!
Mrs Burton: Well, what do you mean?
Peter: I’ve had a sneaky look at the script- Major Boothroyd is definitely there, and he has more lines than in the last movie.
Mrs Burton: You mean he tells him more about the Walther PPK?
Peter: No, not this time- he gives him a briefcase!
Mrs Burton: Well, that doesn’t sound very exciting.
Peter: It’s not just any ordinary briefcase- it has things in it!
Mrs Burton: Things… like pens and letters?
Peter: No, no- knives and gold coins and explosive talcum powder!
Mrs Burton: Explosive talcum powder… Are you sure?
Peter: Yes, I’m sure. And I think they might make more of these James Bond films- if I’m lucky, I could be playing the part till the turn of the century!
Mrs Burton: If all you have to do is talk about explosive talcum powder are you sure you want to play this part till the turn of the century?
Peter: Hmmm, I hadn’t thought about it that way.
Mrs Burton: Maybe you should just do something else- perhaps take the first offer that comes along rather than holding out for this one?
Peter: You know, darling- you’re right. I’ll do that.
MONDAY- Quiet day, only wrote three concertos before lunch. Got damn bored in the afternoon after polishing my Oscars, so I thought I’d have a game of darts- must remember to get a new photo of Monty f***ing Norman, the old one is getting very tatty now.
TUESDAY- Cubby Broccoli called and asked me to write the music for his next Bond film, “Moonraker”. I was a bit dubious and said how was I supposed to get a bollocking song out of that title? He said just get Don Black to write the lyrics since he had managed to get songs out of unpromising titles like “Thunderball” and “The Man With The Golden Gun”. I was still not sure until he told me that little c**t Harry Saltzman wouldn’t be there anymore, when I agreed like a shot.
WEDNESDAY- Sat at the piano and composed the main theme for the new Bond movie. I was careful to make sure that it could be played soft and slow over the main titles but also with a disco beat which I think I’ll subtitle “Disco Moonraker”. After working with Donna effing Summer on “The Deep” I reckon I can handle this disco stuff.
THURSDAY- Don called and said he was busy working with Andrew Lloyd bleeding Webber, so I phoned Hal David to see if he would write the lyrics to “Moonraker”. He said yes, since we had done such a good job working together on “We Have All The Time In The World” and hoped that this one would be just as memorable and successful. I said I was sure it would be.
FRIDAY- Wasted bloody morning, phoning round people like Johnny Mathis, Kate Bush, and even Frank Sinatra. Nobody wants to sing our new Bond theme. I phoned Cubby to tell him this, and he suggested why not ask Shirley again?
I wasn’t sure about that, since she’s done it more than once before, but as usual he was right and she agreed at once. Provided I arranged a stretch limousine, a fur-lined microphone, and four wigs before she set foot in a studio, of course. Naturally I agreed, just grateful that she hadn’t demanded as much as last time.
I'm heading away for the next two or three weeks so no more Imaginary Conversations for a while- from me, anyway. Please, everyone, feel free to write while I'm away.
At this 100-page milestone, I'd like to thank all the collaborators, contributors, and commentators who have made this thread come alive. Too many to make a list, and anyway I'm scared that I'd miss someone out. Thank you, all.
2015. Spectre lair deep in a desert. Bond is fastened to a chair being tortured while Madeleine is forced to watch.
Bond:…do you know any other birdcalls, Franz?
Oberhauser: (Stroking a white cat.) Franz Oberhauser died twenty years ago, James, in an avalanche alongside his father. The man you're talking to now, the man inside your head, is Ernst Stavro Blofeld.
Bond: What?
Blofeld: Ernst Stavro Blofeld.
Madeleine: Ernest St Bluefield?
Blofeld: No!
Bond: Look, I’m a bit distracted right now, what with you sticking needles into my skull. Would you mind saying that name one more time?
Blofeld: (Slowly and patiently, with just a hint of impatience.) Ernst Stavro Blofeld.
Bond: See, Madeleine, it’s not Bluefield- it’s Bluefeld.
Madeleine: Ah right, I see.
Blofeld: No! It’s Blofeld!!!
Bond: Right, I gotcha now- Ernest Stratum Blofeld.
Blofeld: No! No! No!
Madeline: Well, I just wish you would make up your mind, that’s all.
Bond: Yes, it’s very confusing, Ernie.
Blofeld: Don’t call me Ernie- it’s Ernst!
Madeleine: Ernst?
Blofeld: Yes, Ernst.
Bond: Right, I’m glad we’ve got that cleared up- Ernst Stratos Blofeld.
Blofeld: You know what? Screw this, just call me Franz.
1965. Paris. S.P.E.C.T.R.E. board meeting. The face of the chairman, Number One, cannot be seen behind a louvred screen. He is stroking a white cat.
Number One: I regret to inform you all of the death of S.P.E.C.T.R.E. Number Six. Colonel Jacques Bouvar was killed by an unknown assassin. His services will be greatly missed. We will now hear the -
Number Twenty Four: Er, excuse me?
Number One: (Greatly surprised to be interrupted.) – area financial reports.
Number Twenty Four: Er, Number One?
Number One: (Voice very cold.) Yes, Number Twenty Four?
Number Twenty Four: You did say an unknown assassin?
Number One: Are you questioning me, Number Twenty Four?
Number Twenty Four: (Quickly.) Oh no, no, no, Number One. It’s just that…
Number One: Well?
Number Twenty Four: This unknown assassin- he didn’t have a blond partner, so it wasn’t Napoleon Solo.
Number One: True.
Number Twenty Four: He wasn’t falling over drunk while singing a love song, so it wasn’t Matt Helm.
Number One: Agreed.
Number Twenty Four: And he wasn’t wearing a mackintosh and horn-rimmed glasses, so it wasn’t Harry Palmer.
Number One: Your point, Number Twenty Four?
Number Twenty Four: He managed to escape by using a jet pack which took him to a beautiful silver/grey 1964 Aston Martin with gadgets.
Number One: Correct.
Number Twenty Four: It’s just that… I think we have enough information to make an educated guess as to who the “unknown assailant” might have been.
Number One: Hmmm…
(Number Twenty Four begins to sweat, wondering if he has perhaps gone too far in questioning his leader.)
Number One: You know, I think you may be right, Number Twenty Four.
Number Twenty Four: (Relaxing.) Thank you, Number One.
Number One: We will now hear the area financial-
Number Twenty Four: Er, Number One?
Number One: (Voice much less calm than previously.) Yes, Number Twenty Four?
Number Twenty Four: Well, it’s just that…
Number One: Come on, out with it.
Number Twenty Four: You said “Jacques Bouvar” and I’ve always known him as “Jacques Boitier”. I was wondering-
(Number One presses a button and Number Twenty Four’s chair erupts in electrical sparks. The chair slowly sinks beneath the floor, taking the lifeless body with it.)
Number One: Number Twenty Four’s services will be greatly missed. We will NOW hear the area financial reports.
Sir MilesThe Wrong Side Of The WardrobePosts: 27,924Chief of Staff
2024. Broccoli Mansions. MGW and BB are enjoying a hearty breakfast, attended by their faithful flunkeys.
BB: More toast, Michael?
MGW: Yes, that would be nice.
BB: Purvis! (Snaps fingers. A flunkey is by her side instantly.)
Purvis: Yes, Miss Barbara?
BB: More toast for Mr Wilson.
Purvis: Yes, Miss Barbara.
BB: Now!
MGW: Wade, you go with him to help with the recipe.
Wade: Yes, Mr Wilson, sir.
(Purvis and Wade head off. The door opens and Gregg Wilson enters.)
Gregg: Morning, Dad. Morning, Aunt Barbara.
MGW: Good morning, son.
BB: Hello, Gregg. Give your auntie a kiss.
Gregg: But of course. (He bends and gives her a peck on the cheek.) Have you seen this morning’s papers?
MGW: Not yet, but I’m sure it’s all the same as yesterday. Tories 110% behind in the opinion polls, Trump says something even more outrageous than the day before. Just the usual.
Gregg: True, but there’s a story you might be interested in. Look here….
MGW: What???
BB: Aaron Taylor who???
MGW: Barbara, you haven’t been talking to the reporters again, have you?
BB: Of course not! Gregg, which newspaper is this from?
Gregg: The “Daily Express”.
MGW: And where did they get it?
Gregg: From the “Daily Mail”.
BB: The “Mail” printed a story that wasn’t about how wonderful and Heaven-sent the Conservatives are?
Gregg: Strange as it may seem, they did.
MGW: And where did they get it from?
Gregg: The “Sun”.
BB: Ah, well- there you are then.
MGW: (Laughing.) The “Sun”!
BB: They’ll print anything these days.
MGW: Of course we haven’t signed a new James Bond- we’d need to get up from our arses and make a new James Bond movie, then.
BB: True.
MGW: And where do they say they got the story from?
Gregg: It says “an insider”.
BB: As if! No-one on the inside would tell them anything.
(There is a pause.)
BB: Purvis and Wade have been a long time with that toast….
Sir MilesThe Wrong Side Of The WardrobePosts: 27,924Chief of Staff
2024. London, in the office of an agent. Not a secret one, and not an estate one either- it’s a theatrical agent’s office. The door opens and Aaron Taylor Johnson comes in.
Agent: Aaron, my boy, glad to see you!
Aaron: Your message said you had something to talk to me about?
Agent: Yes, indeed. I have a wonderful part for you.
Aaron: Yes, I know.
Agent: You know? This quickly? I only had the call an hour ago.
Aaron: (Smiling happily.) It’s no secret- it’s been in all the papers.
Agent: Well, that was fast work.
Aaron: Oh, you have to admit that news this big takes some covering up.
Agent: (Puzzled.) News this big?
Aaron: Yes, everybody’s talking about it, you know.
Agent: They are?
Aaron: Of course they are! It’s been in the “Express”, the "Sun", the “Mail”, the-
Agent: The “Mail”?
Aaron: Yes, just next to their article about how the Conservatives will make the whole of Britain tax-free, reduce all the prices, land a manned rocket on Mars, and find a cure for cancer- if only everybody in the country votes for them in the upcoming election.
(Both laugh heartily.)
Agent: Yes, the old jokes are the best.
Aaron: So you don’t need to tell me- I know.
(Aaron deliberately adopts the Bond pose: legs crossed, finger representing a Walther PPK over his shoulder.)
Agent: Ah….
Aaron: I take it that either Ms Broccoli or Mr Wilson- or as I’m surely soon to be calling them, Barbara and Michael- called you earlier?
Agent: Look, Aaron-
Aaron: Have they got a title yet? “Die A Golden Death”, perhaps? “Never Die Tomorrow”?
Agent: Aaron, it’s-
Aaron: Oh, this is wonderful! I hope they don’t want me to cut my hair, I like-
Agent: AARON!
Aaron: Eh? What?
Agent: It’s not that. Do you want to play the lead in the next series of “The Witcher”?
Aaron: (Stunned.) “The Witcher”???
Agent: Yes, you know, Henry Cavill used to be in it and-
Aaron: I know what it is! Look, I know you might be surprised but I’m going to turn that one down.
Agent: It’s a good role, the publicity will be valuable.
Aaron: Yes, but you have to remember- Roger Moore signed up many years ago for “The Saint” and then “The Persuaders!” so had to wait some time before he could be James Bond. Same thing with Pierce Brosnan and “Remington Steele”. I have to make sure that I’m available when the call comes.
Agent: Aaron, you have to remember- the acting world is full of guys who were nearly James Bond. Henry Cavill, Clive Owen, John Gavin, to name but a few.
Aaron: Yes, but-
Agent: All that you have on your side is being the right age and a lot of press speculation, neither of which will buy you a bus ticket.
Aaron: (Glumly.) You’re right.
Agent: …so you’ll do that other part, then?
Aaron: I’d rather be in a Dracula movie.
Agent: Ah! Now there I can help you….
Sir MilesThe Wrong Side Of The WardrobePosts: 27,924Chief of Staff
2024. The household of Daniel Craig. The telephone rings.
Craig: Hello?
Woman: (Voice obscured by something like a handkerchief over the telephone.) Hello, is that Mr Craig?
Craig: Yes, my name’s Craig- Daniel Craig.
Woman: Ooohhh! (Sounds of heavy breathing are heard.)
Craig: Are you all right?
Woman: Oh, yes, er, sorry. Would you just confirm your name again, please?
Craig: The name’s Craig. Daniel Craig.
Woman: (Sighs happily.) Mr Craig, my name is Caroline Cabbage and I’m with the Eo…er, Eternity film company. We have an offer you might be interested in.
Craig: That’s nice, but really you should talk to my agent.
Woman: There’s a coincidence! We would like you to play the part of an agent.
Craig: Sounds dull, just sitting behind a desk making phone calls.
Woman: Oh no, he travels- sort of a licenced troubleshooter.
Craig: (Faint echoes of familiarity beginning to ring inside his memory.) He travels? Where does he go?
Woman: (Vaguely.) Oh, all over. Often Italy, though
Craig: Italy….
Woman: And he meets lots of beautiful women, of course.
Craig: But of course.
Woman: Some of whom have a surprisingly short life expectancy. He is forever haunted by the death of his first real love, however.
Craig: So he never lays a hand on any other woman, then?
Woman: He most certainly does. Now, he has a friendly scientist who gives him equipment which may seem unusual at first but will later save his life in unexpectedly specific situations.
Craig: (Suspicions growing stronger.) Equipment? Like… gadgets, you mean?
Woman: Er, yes, you could say that. Now, his car-
Craig: Let me guess- he has a car full of these gadgets, does he?
Woman: Why, yes. Well guessed, Dan- I mean, Mr Craig.
Craig: (Now very sure.) And would he, oh I don’t know, have a very individual drink which he orders or is ordered for him wherever he goes?
Woman: (The game’s up.) Yes, he does.
Craig: And your name isn’t Caroline Cabbage at all, is it?
Woman: No, it isn’t. Daniel! Come back to me- er, I mean us!
Craig: No way, Barbara.
(He hangs up as distressing wails begin to be poured down the phone, and looks grimly through the window.)
Craig: Third time this week. I don’t know how she keeps finding my number.
Thank you, guys. One line that I couldn't fit in was how this "Eternity" film company got it's name - which is, of course, because of how long it takes them to make a film, at least these days.
I have no idea for today, yet, but it's still early (here, at least).
2024. The House of Barbel. He is sitting with Bride of Barbel, they are sipping their morning coffee and tea.
Barbel: Oh, I don’t know what to do, I just don’t know.
Bride: What is it, my love? Can’t make up your mind which guitar to play today, or which James Bond film to watch?
Barbel: No, it’s worse than that- I don’t know what to write for an Imaginary Conversation today!
Bride: How about one where someone is pacing up and down waiting for the telephone to ring?
Barbel: No, it’s too soon for one of those.
Bride: One where Barbara misses Daniel?
Barbel: I just did that yesterday.
Bride: Then I’ll tell you what to do. Two angels are talking….
2024. Double-0 Heaven. Two angels are on duty in the Prayer Receiving Room.
1st Angel: (Reading a prayer.) Ah, here we go again.
2nd Angel: What is it this time?
1st Angel: It’s another one from the CEO of Aston Martin.
2nd Angel: Sales gone down again, have they?
1st Angel: Yes, you know how it goes. New James Bond film, their sales go up. In between, the sales figures fall again.
2nd Angel: Yes, I know. And it’s been a while now.
1st Angel: Not as bad as between “Licence To Kill” and “GoldenEye”, but if they don’t get a move on it soon will be.
2nd Angel: (Reading.) And here’s a similar one from the CEO of Omega watches.
1st Angel: Oh yes, they’ll be saying pretty much the same thing.
2nd Angel: And there’s this (Indicates a huge pile of prayers, about the size of a copy of “War And Peace” sitting on top of “The Lord Of The Rings”- all three volumes, unedited.) of course.
1st Angel: Oh, the fan prayers. There’s always those.
2nd Angel: You know….?
1st Angel: What?
2nd Angel: Maybe, now I’m just thinking aloud here, maybe we should think about actually doing something about those.
1st Angel: Really? What did you have in mind?
2nd Angel: Oh, I don’t know, maybe we could ask someone to go down and have a word with the makers?
1st Angel: No, we tried that. Sent down a ghost or two to try frightening them into doing something apart from lazing around.
2nd Angel: It didn’t work?
1st Angel: No, they still did nothing- well, one of them went and made some other films instead.
2nd Angel: I didn’t hear about those.
1st Angel: Nor did anyone else, that’s the point.
2nd Angel: Well, if frightening them didn’t work how about we try appealing to their better natures?
(Both look at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing.)
1st Angel: Oh, that was a good one.
2nd Angel: Sometimes the old jokes are the best.
1st Angel: I have one idea, though- we could give them a warning.
2nd Angel: What were you thinking?
1st Angel: We could tell them that if they don’t get a move on then they might run the risk of turning into Kevin McClory...
2nd Angel: Oh, the guy we sent….
(He points downwards.)
1st Angel: Yes, him.
2nd Angel: Why, what about him?
1st Angel: He took nearly twenty years in between making James Bond movies, and they were both the same!
Barbel: However, I did change my mind while we were writing that. I thought of doing another one where ….
2024. The household of Sam Neill. Sir Sam is pacing up and down, never getting too far away from the telephone.
Mrs Neill: Oh, sit down, Sam, why don’t you?
Sam: I can’t, I just can’t!
Mrs Neill: You’ll be wearing a hole in that nice new carpet.
Sam: (Unconsciously shredding a cuddly toy T Rex in his hands as he paces.) Carpet? I don’t care about a carpet!
Mrs Neill: Look, just sit down and I’ll make you a nice cup of whatever it is New Zealanders like to drink, our writer not knowing whether that’s tea or coffee.
Sam: A nice cup of whatever it is New Zealanders like to drink? I can’t think about whatever it is New Zealanders like to drink at a time like this!
Mrs Neill: Well, just try and relax, then.
Sam: That’s the thing! I can’t relax, waiting for that damned phone to ring.
Mrs Neill: If they want you, they’ll phone.
Sam: Of course they want me! They’ve got to want me!
Mrs Neill: But Sam-
Sam: They said I gave a great screen test.
Mrs Neill: Yes, I know, but-
Sam: Michael and Barbara, they were very impressed. I did the two scenes they like to see actors performing, one from “From Russia With Love”
and one from “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service”.
Mrs Neill: Yes, Sam my love, but-
Sam: And I saw Barbara look at Michael and nod!
Mrs Neill: Sam-
Sam: So I’m in! All they have to do is lift that phone!
Mrs Neill: SAM!
Sam: Oh, yes, sorry, what is it my love?
Mrs Neill: That was in 1986! You’re 76 now!
Sam: No problem- they could always remake "A View To a Kill!
Bride: Hmm, I suppose that one would do.
Barbel: Tell you what, I'll just post them both. See if the guys like them.
Sir MilesThe Wrong Side Of The WardrobePosts: 27,924Chief of Staff
And “the guys” do - amazing how the quality never fails…even at 100 pages in, remarkable 👏🏻👏🏻
Comments
thanks @boss! now I definitely want to see this film!
and for the photo of Belushi spitting the potatoes, made me crack up before I even started reading. Looking at that image now, its so disgusting I cant imagine they got away with including it in an an actual film, but when I was thirteen years old that influential role model was the cause of a heckuva lotta messes in my high school cafeteria.
____________________________
EDIT: sorry Boss, I turned the page. barbel's "what if John Landis wrote The Spy Who Loved Me" spoof is here , last post of the previous page. I'd hate to see that hard work get missed!
Thank you, caractacus, I am very glad you enjoyed that.
100 pages! Another milestone I hadn't anticipated. But wait... We have turned a new page, as caractacus said above, and that means I can hear footsteps pacing up and down....
1963. The household of Peter Burton. He is pacing up and down, never getting too far away from the telephone. His wife watches concernedly.
Mrs Burton: Oh sit down, Peter.
Peter: I can’t, I just can’t.
Mrs Burton: Relax, why don’t you.
Peter: Relax? How can I relax?
Mrs Burton: Sit down and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.
Peter: Tea? How can I think of tea at a time like this?
Mrs Burton: A time like this? Look, if they want you they’ll phone you.
Peter: They’ve got to want me, they’ve got to!
Mrs Burton: What makes you say that, my love?
Peter: Look, you remember I was in a film called “Dr No”?
Mrs Burton: Yes, of course I remember.
Peter: I played a character called Major Boothroyd. I gave the hero, James Bond, a new gun- a Walther PPK.
Mrs Burton: Yes, I remember that.
Peter: And now I’ve heard that they’re going to make another film about James Bond.
Mrs Burton: And you think you have to give him another Walther PPK?
Peter: Yes, he lost his on some island- no, no, that’s not what I mean at all!
Mrs Burton: Well, what do you mean?
Peter: I’ve had a sneaky look at the script- Major Boothroyd is definitely there, and he has more lines than in the last movie.
Mrs Burton: You mean he tells him more about the Walther PPK?
Peter: No, not this time- he gives him a briefcase!
Mrs Burton: Well, that doesn’t sound very exciting.
Peter: It’s not just any ordinary briefcase- it has things in it!
Mrs Burton: Things… like pens and letters?
Peter: No, no- knives and gold coins and explosive talcum powder!
Mrs Burton: Explosive talcum powder… Are you sure?
Peter: Yes, I’m sure. And I think they might make more of these James Bond films- if I’m lucky, I could be playing the part till the turn of the century!
Mrs Burton: If all you have to do is talk about explosive talcum powder are you sure you want to play this part till the turn of the century?
Peter: Hmmm, I hadn’t thought about it that way.
Mrs Burton: Maybe you should just do something else- perhaps take the first offer that comes along rather than holding out for this one?
Peter: You know, darling- you’re right. I’ll do that.
The diary of John Barry, 1979.
MONDAY- Quiet day, only wrote three concertos before lunch. Got damn bored in the afternoon after polishing my Oscars, so I thought I’d have a game of darts- must remember to get a new photo of Monty f***ing Norman, the old one is getting very tatty now.
TUESDAY- Cubby Broccoli called and asked me to write the music for his next Bond film, “Moonraker”. I was a bit dubious and said how was I supposed to get a bollocking song out of that title? He said just get Don Black to write the lyrics since he had managed to get songs out of unpromising titles like “Thunderball” and “The Man With The Golden Gun”. I was still not sure until he told me that little c**t Harry Saltzman wouldn’t be there anymore, when I agreed like a shot.
WEDNESDAY- Sat at the piano and composed the main theme for the new Bond movie. I was careful to make sure that it could be played soft and slow over the main titles but also with a disco beat which I think I’ll subtitle “Disco Moonraker”. After working with Donna effing Summer on “The Deep” I reckon I can handle this disco stuff.
THURSDAY- Don called and said he was busy working with Andrew Lloyd bleeding Webber, so I phoned Hal David to see if he would write the lyrics to “Moonraker”. He said yes, since we had done such a good job working together on “We Have All The Time In The World” and hoped that this one would be just as memorable and successful. I said I was sure it would be.
FRIDAY- Wasted bloody morning, phoning round people like Johnny Mathis, Kate Bush, and even Frank Sinatra. Nobody wants to sing our new Bond theme. I phoned Cubby to tell him this, and he suggested why not ask Shirley again?
I wasn’t sure about that, since she’s done it more than once before, but as usual he was right and she agreed at once. Provided I arranged a stretch limousine, a fur-lined microphone, and four wigs before she set foot in a studio, of course. Naturally I agreed, just grateful that she hadn’t demanded as much as last time.
Bing Videos
Potty-mouth Barry 😱🤣
Accurate, though! 😁 Imagine his deep voice with a Yorkshire accent speaking the words.
I'm heading away for the next two or three weeks so no more Imaginary Conversations for a while- from me, anyway. Please, everyone, feel free to write while I'm away.
At this 100-page milestone, I'd like to thank all the collaborators, contributors, and commentators who have made this thread come alive. Too many to make a list, and anyway I'm scared that I'd miss someone out. Thank you, all.
Hi guys, I'm back!
2015. Spectre lair deep in a desert. Bond is fastened to a chair being tortured while Madeleine is forced to watch.
Bond:…do you know any other birdcalls, Franz?
Oberhauser: (Stroking a white cat.) Franz Oberhauser died twenty years ago, James, in an avalanche alongside his father. The man you're talking to now, the man inside your head, is Ernst Stavro Blofeld.
Bond: What?
Blofeld: Ernst Stavro Blofeld.
Madeleine: Ernest St Bluefield?
Blofeld: No!
Bond: Look, I’m a bit distracted right now, what with you sticking needles into my skull. Would you mind saying that name one more time?
Blofeld: (Slowly and patiently, with just a hint of impatience.) Ernst Stavro Blofeld.
Bond: See, Madeleine, it’s not Bluefield- it’s Bluefeld.
Madeleine: Ah right, I see.
Blofeld: No! It’s Blofeld!!!
Bond: Right, I gotcha now- Ernest Stratum Blofeld.
Blofeld: No! No! No!
Madeline: Well, I just wish you would make up your mind, that’s all.
Bond: Yes, it’s very confusing, Ernie.
Blofeld: Don’t call me Ernie- it’s Ernst!
Madeleine: Ernst?
Blofeld: Yes, Ernst.
Bond: Right, I’m glad we’ve got that cleared up- Ernst Stratos Blofeld.
Blofeld: You know what? Screw this, just call me Franz.
1965. Paris. S.P.E.C.T.R.E. board meeting. The face of the chairman, Number One, cannot be seen behind a louvred screen. He is stroking a white cat.
Number One: I regret to inform you all of the death of S.P.E.C.T.R.E. Number Six. Colonel Jacques Bouvar was killed by an unknown assassin. His services will be greatly missed. We will now hear the -
Number Twenty Four: Er, excuse me?
Number One: (Greatly surprised to be interrupted.) – area financial reports.
Number Twenty Four: Er, Number One?
Number One: (Voice very cold.) Yes, Number Twenty Four?
Number Twenty Four: You did say an unknown assassin?
Number One: Are you questioning me, Number Twenty Four?
Number Twenty Four: (Quickly.) Oh no, no, no, Number One. It’s just that…
Number One: Well?
Number Twenty Four: This unknown assassin- he didn’t have a blond partner, so it wasn’t Napoleon Solo.
Number One: True.
Number Twenty Four: He wasn’t falling over drunk while singing a love song, so it wasn’t Matt Helm.
Number One: Agreed.
Number Twenty Four: And he wasn’t wearing a mackintosh and horn-rimmed glasses, so it wasn’t Harry Palmer.
Number One: Your point, Number Twenty Four?
Number Twenty Four: He managed to escape by using a jet pack which took him to a beautiful silver/grey 1964 Aston Martin with gadgets.
Number One: Correct.
Number Twenty Four: It’s just that… I think we have enough information to make an educated guess as to who the “unknown assailant” might have been.
Number One: Hmmm…
(Number Twenty Four begins to sweat, wondering if he has perhaps gone too far in questioning his leader.)
Number One: You know, I think you may be right, Number Twenty Four.
Number Twenty Four: (Relaxing.) Thank you, Number One.
Number One: We will now hear the area financial-
Number Twenty Four: Er, Number One?
Number One: (Voice much less calm than previously.) Yes, Number Twenty Four?
Number Twenty Four: Well, it’s just that…
Number One: Come on, out with it.
Number Twenty Four: You said “Jacques Bouvar” and I’ve always known him as “Jacques Boitier”. I was wondering-
(Number One presses a button and Number Twenty Four’s chair erupts in electrical sparks. The chair slowly sinks beneath the floor, taking the lifeless body with it.)
Number One: Number Twenty Four’s services will be greatly missed. We will NOW hear the area financial reports.
Love it 🤣🤣
Thanks, Sir M! 🙂
Welcome back, Barbel, and in as good form as ever!
Thank you, CHB! 😊
2024. Broccoli Mansions. MGW and BB are enjoying a hearty breakfast, attended by their faithful flunkeys.
BB: More toast, Michael?
MGW: Yes, that would be nice.
BB: Purvis! (Snaps fingers. A flunkey is by her side instantly.)
Purvis: Yes, Miss Barbara?
BB: More toast for Mr Wilson.
Purvis: Yes, Miss Barbara.
BB: Now!
MGW: Wade, you go with him to help with the recipe.
Wade: Yes, Mr Wilson, sir.
(Purvis and Wade head off. The door opens and Gregg Wilson enters.)
Gregg: Morning, Dad. Morning, Aunt Barbara.
MGW: Good morning, son.
BB: Hello, Gregg. Give your auntie a kiss.
Gregg: But of course. (He bends and gives her a peck on the cheek.) Have you seen this morning’s papers?
MGW: Not yet, but I’m sure it’s all the same as yesterday. Tories 110% behind in the opinion polls, Trump says something even more outrageous than the day before. Just the usual.
Gregg: True, but there’s a story you might be interested in. Look here….
MGW: What???
BB: Aaron Taylor who???
MGW: Barbara, you haven’t been talking to the reporters again, have you?
BB: Of course not! Gregg, which newspaper is this from?
Gregg: The “Daily Express”.
MGW: And where did they get it?
Gregg: From the “Daily Mail”.
BB: The “Mail” printed a story that wasn’t about how wonderful and Heaven-sent the Conservatives are?
Gregg: Strange as it may seem, they did.
MGW: And where did they get it from?
Gregg: The “Sun”.
BB: Ah, well- there you are then.
MGW: (Laughing.) The “Sun”!
BB: They’ll print anything these days.
MGW: Of course we haven’t signed a new James Bond- we’d need to get up from our arses and make a new James Bond movie, then.
BB: True.
MGW: And where do they say they got the story from?
Gregg: It says “an insider”.
BB: As if! No-one on the inside would tell them anything.
(There is a pause.)
BB: Purvis and Wade have been a long time with that toast….
Another corker 🤣👏🏻
Shocking! Positively shocking! 😲😲😲
hey look everybody, Number Twenty Four is still alive despite being electrocuted, just like that minion Dr Evil dropped in the shark tank!
I just did a Google search and found the expression "Weeds don't perish so easily"
😁😁😁
Thanks everyone, and I hope to find time today to come up with the next one.
2024. London, in the office of an agent. Not a secret one, and not an estate one either- it’s a theatrical agent’s office. The door opens and Aaron Taylor Johnson comes in.
Agent: Aaron, my boy, glad to see you!
Aaron: Your message said you had something to talk to me about?
Agent: Yes, indeed. I have a wonderful part for you.
Aaron: Yes, I know.
Agent: You know? This quickly? I only had the call an hour ago.
Aaron: (Smiling happily.) It’s no secret- it’s been in all the papers.
Agent: Well, that was fast work.
Aaron: Oh, you have to admit that news this big takes some covering up.
Agent: (Puzzled.) News this big?
Aaron: Yes, everybody’s talking about it, you know.
Agent: They are?
Aaron: Of course they are! It’s been in the “Express”, the "Sun", the “Mail”, the-
Agent: The “Mail”?
Aaron: Yes, just next to their article about how the Conservatives will make the whole of Britain tax-free, reduce all the prices, land a manned rocket on Mars, and find a cure for cancer- if only everybody in the country votes for them in the upcoming election.
(Both laugh heartily.)
Agent: Yes, the old jokes are the best.
Aaron: So you don’t need to tell me- I know.
(Aaron deliberately adopts the Bond pose: legs crossed, finger representing a Walther PPK over his shoulder.)
Agent: Ah….
Aaron: I take it that either Ms Broccoli or Mr Wilson- or as I’m surely soon to be calling them, Barbara and Michael- called you earlier?
Agent: Look, Aaron-
Aaron: Have they got a title yet? “Die A Golden Death”, perhaps? “Never Die Tomorrow”?
Agent: Aaron, it’s-
Aaron: Oh, this is wonderful! I hope they don’t want me to cut my hair, I like-
Agent: AARON!
Aaron: Eh? What?
Agent: It’s not that. Do you want to play the lead in the next series of “The Witcher”?
Aaron: (Stunned.) “The Witcher”???
Agent: Yes, you know, Henry Cavill used to be in it and-
Aaron: I know what it is! Look, I know you might be surprised but I’m going to turn that one down.
Agent: It’s a good role, the publicity will be valuable.
Aaron: Yes, but you have to remember- Roger Moore signed up many years ago for “The Saint” and then “The Persuaders!” so had to wait some time before he could be James Bond. Same thing with Pierce Brosnan and “Remington Steele”. I have to make sure that I’m available when the call comes.
Agent: Aaron, you have to remember- the acting world is full of guys who were nearly James Bond. Henry Cavill, Clive Owen, John Gavin, to name but a few.
Aaron: Yes, but-
Agent: All that you have on your side is being the right age and a lot of press speculation, neither of which will buy you a bus ticket.
Aaron: (Glumly.) You’re right.
Agent: …so you’ll do that other part, then?
Aaron: I’d rather be in a Dracula movie.
Agent: Ah! Now there I can help you….
More ‘true tales’ 😏 excellent as usual 👏🏻🤣
👍 😁
I hadn't quite finished with that story with the previous entry, and there might be another later.
2024. The household of Daniel Craig. The telephone rings.
Craig: Hello?
Woman: (Voice obscured by something like a handkerchief over the telephone.) Hello, is that Mr Craig?
Craig: Yes, my name’s Craig- Daniel Craig.
Woman: Ooohhh! (Sounds of heavy breathing are heard.)
Craig: Are you all right?
Woman: Oh, yes, er, sorry. Would you just confirm your name again, please?
Craig: The name’s Craig. Daniel Craig.
Woman: (Sighs happily.) Mr Craig, my name is Caroline Cabbage and I’m with the Eo…er, Eternity film company. We have an offer you might be interested in.
Craig: That’s nice, but really you should talk to my agent.
Woman: There’s a coincidence! We would like you to play the part of an agent.
Craig: Sounds dull, just sitting behind a desk making phone calls.
Woman: Oh no, he travels- sort of a licenced troubleshooter.
Craig: (Faint echoes of familiarity beginning to ring inside his memory.) He travels? Where does he go?
Woman: (Vaguely.) Oh, all over. Often Italy, though
Craig: Italy….
Woman: And he meets lots of beautiful women, of course.
Craig: But of course.
Woman: Some of whom have a surprisingly short life expectancy. He is forever haunted by the death of his first real love, however.
Craig: So he never lays a hand on any other woman, then?
Woman: He most certainly does. Now, he has a friendly scientist who gives him equipment which may seem unusual at first but will later save his life in unexpectedly specific situations.
Craig: (Suspicions growing stronger.) Equipment? Like… gadgets, you mean?
Woman: Er, yes, you could say that. Now, his car-
Craig: Let me guess- he has a car full of these gadgets, does he?
Woman: Why, yes. Well guessed, Dan- I mean, Mr Craig.
Craig: (Now very sure.) And would he, oh I don’t know, have a very individual drink which he orders or is ordered for him wherever he goes?
Woman: (The game’s up.) Yes, he does.
Craig: And your name isn’t Caroline Cabbage at all, is it?
Woman: No, it isn’t. Daniel! Come back to me- er, I mean us!
Craig: No way, Barbara.
(He hangs up as distressing wails begin to be poured down the phone, and looks grimly through the window.)
Craig: Third time this week. I don’t know how she keeps finding my number.
Your "imaginary" conversations seem worryingly realistic. 🤣🤣
Brilliant 🤣👏🏻
Caroline Cabbage 😂😂😂 BB will forever be that name for me now, just absolutely brilliant, Barbel 😁😂😂
Thank you, guys. One line that I couldn't fit in was how this "Eternity" film company got it's name - which is, of course, because of how long it takes them to make a film, at least these days.
I have no idea for today, yet, but it's still early (here, at least).
2024. The House of Barbel. He is sitting with Bride of Barbel, they are sipping their morning coffee and tea.
Barbel: Oh, I don’t know what to do, I just don’t know.
Bride: What is it, my love? Can’t make up your mind which guitar to play today, or which James Bond film to watch?
Barbel: No, it’s worse than that- I don’t know what to write for an Imaginary Conversation today!
Bride: How about one where someone is pacing up and down waiting for the telephone to ring?
Barbel: No, it’s too soon for one of those.
Bride: One where Barbara misses Daniel?
Barbel: I just did that yesterday.
Bride: Then I’ll tell you what to do. Two angels are talking….
2024. Double-0 Heaven. Two angels are on duty in the Prayer Receiving Room.
1st Angel: (Reading a prayer.) Ah, here we go again.
2nd Angel: What is it this time?
1st Angel: It’s another one from the CEO of Aston Martin.
2nd Angel: Sales gone down again, have they?
1st Angel: Yes, you know how it goes. New James Bond film, their sales go up. In between, the sales figures fall again.
2nd Angel: Yes, I know. And it’s been a while now.
1st Angel: Not as bad as between “Licence To Kill” and “GoldenEye”, but if they don’t get a move on it soon will be.
2nd Angel: (Reading.) And here’s a similar one from the CEO of Omega watches.
1st Angel: Oh yes, they’ll be saying pretty much the same thing.
2nd Angel: And there’s this (Indicates a huge pile of prayers, about the size of a copy of “War And Peace” sitting on top of “The Lord Of The Rings”- all three volumes, unedited.) of course.
1st Angel: Oh, the fan prayers. There’s always those.
2nd Angel: You know….?
1st Angel: What?
2nd Angel: Maybe, now I’m just thinking aloud here, maybe we should think about actually doing something about those.
1st Angel: Really? What did you have in mind?
2nd Angel: Oh, I don’t know, maybe we could ask someone to go down and have a word with the makers?
1st Angel: No, we tried that. Sent down a ghost or two to try frightening them into doing something apart from lazing around.
2nd Angel: It didn’t work?
1st Angel: No, they still did nothing- well, one of them went and made some other films instead.
2nd Angel: I didn’t hear about those.
1st Angel: Nor did anyone else, that’s the point.
2nd Angel: Well, if frightening them didn’t work how about we try appealing to their better natures?
(Both look at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing.)
1st Angel: Oh, that was a good one.
2nd Angel: Sometimes the old jokes are the best.
1st Angel: I have one idea, though- we could give them a warning.
2nd Angel: What were you thinking?
1st Angel: We could tell them that if they don’t get a move on then they might run the risk of turning into Kevin McClory...
2nd Angel: Oh, the guy we sent….
(He points downwards.)
1st Angel: Yes, him.
2nd Angel: Why, what about him?
1st Angel: He took nearly twenty years in between making James Bond movies, and they were both the same!
Barbel: Hey, that’s not bad.
Bride: Thank you! (Kiss, kiss.)
Barbel: However, I did change my mind while we were writing that. I thought of doing another one where ….
2024. The household of Sam Neill. Sir Sam is pacing up and down, never getting too far away from the telephone.
Mrs Neill: Oh, sit down, Sam, why don’t you?
Sam: I can’t, I just can’t!
Mrs Neill: You’ll be wearing a hole in that nice new carpet.
Sam: (Unconsciously shredding a cuddly toy T Rex in his hands as he paces.) Carpet? I don’t care about a carpet!
Mrs Neill: Look, just sit down and I’ll make you a nice cup of whatever it is New Zealanders like to drink, our writer not knowing whether that’s tea or coffee.
Sam: A nice cup of whatever it is New Zealanders like to drink? I can’t think about whatever it is New Zealanders like to drink at a time like this!
Mrs Neill: Well, just try and relax, then.
Sam: That’s the thing! I can’t relax, waiting for that damned phone to ring.
Mrs Neill: If they want you, they’ll phone.
Sam: Of course they want me! They’ve got to want me!
Mrs Neill: But Sam-
Sam: They said I gave a great screen test.
Mrs Neill: Yes, I know, but-
Sam: Michael and Barbara, they were very impressed. I did the two scenes they like to see actors performing, one from “From Russia With Love”
and one from “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service”.
Mrs Neill: Yes, Sam my love, but-
Sam: And I saw Barbara look at Michael and nod!
Mrs Neill: Sam-
Sam: So I’m in! All they have to do is lift that phone!
Mrs Neill: SAM!
Sam: Oh, yes, sorry, what is it my love?
Mrs Neill: That was in 1986! You’re 76 now!
Sam: No problem- they could always remake "A View To a Kill!
Bride: Hmm, I suppose that one would do.
Barbel: Tell you what, I'll just post them both. See if the guys like them.
And “the guys” do - amazing how the quality never fails…even at 100 pages in, remarkable 👏🏻👏🏻
Remarkable! You even come up with new concepts in your old age. I want to hear more from the two angels in double-0 heaven. 🙏