I hasten to add that the only thing I did was to suggest that Burt Kwouk would be a good subject for the “pacers” spoofs, the entire sketch is from Barbel’s imagination, and very good it is too!🍻
Yeah, well, sometimes nothin' can be a real cool hand.
Thank you, guys. The post from @Sir Miles above featured the very lovely Valerie Leon, which got me thinking.... (Normally I wouldn't do two pacers in a row, but I couldn't resist)
1963. Goldeneye, Jamaica. Ian Fleming sits at his typewriter, a cigarette holder clamped tightly between his teeth, and pounds away at the keys. Occasionally he takes a sip from an easily accessible glass containing… well, you should certainly know what it contains by now. His housekeeper Violet comes in.
Violet: Telephone call for you, Commander.
Fleming: Did they say who it was? I’m busy at the moment.
Violet: Sounded like a young lady.
Fleming: Ah, all right.
(He gets up and walks to the telephone.)
Fleming: Hello?
Voice: (Polite, slight Canadian accent.) Mr Fleming?
Fleming: Yes, who’s this?
Voice: It’s Vivienne Michel, don’t you recognize my voice?
Fleming: (Ah. He’d been dreading this call.) Of course. How are you?
Vivienne: I’m fine. Had you been expecting me?
Fleming: Why, no, Vivienne, not at all.
Vivienne: Call me Viv, you must remember that.
Fleming: Viv, yes of course.
Viv: Are you not wondering why I’ve called?
Fleming: You didn’t like the book cover?
Viv: No, I thought it was just fine.
Fleming: The write-up inside the fly-leaf?
Viv: A little over the top, but I can live with it.
Fleming: Well, in that case why are you calling?
Viv: I’ll keep it simple: money.
Fleming: But I sent you some money, in the percentage we had agreed, when the royalties for the book came in.
Viv: Yes, and I’m waiting for the rest of it.
Fleming: What do you mean, the rest of it?
Viv: Is that all there is?
Fleming: Look, Viv, it just didn’t sell as well as my other books. That’s unfortunate, but it’s all there is to it.
Viv: I can’t believe your books don’t make more money than that!
Fleming: That was for the hardback sales. It’s in the paperbacks that the real money lies- those sell by the million.
Viv: Well?
Fleming: (Drawing a deep breath.) There won’t be a paperback of this one, Viv.
Viv: And why would that be?
Fleming: Because I say so. The critics were merciless, it was banned in various countries such as Australia, and most importantly my wife didn’t like it.
Viv: But-
Fleming: So I have told the publishers there will be no reprints. There will be no paperback edition. And I have told the film producers there will no film.
Viv: (Shocked.) No film?
Fleming: No film. Oh, they can use the title if they like but that’s it.
Viv: Well, you might have consulted me about all this! I am your co-author, you know!
Fleming: And I would have consulted you if I had known where you were. Where have you been, by the way?
Viv: Ah, I’ve been back with James again.
Fleming: (One eyebrow raised.) Really? And what did you get up to?
Viv: Well, it was like this. Do you remember me telling you I was allergic to wheat?
Fleming: (Eyes beginning to glaze over.) Er… no.
Viv: I did tell you, but I could see your eyes sort of glazing over. And there’s wheat everywhere in Canada! So, I saw this advert and I went to be treated for my allergy at a clinic in Switzerland.
Fleming: Switzerland…
Viv: Wait a moment, are you writing this down or something?
Fleming: Oh no, no. Definitely not.
Viv: Right, well, this clinic was on top of an Alp, would you believe?
Fleming: On top of an Alp…
Viv: Are you sure you’re not writing this down?
Fleming: Oh no, please continue.
Viv: Anyway, James was there one day and ……
Sir MilesThe Wrong Side Of The WardrobePosts: 27,923Chief of Staff
Very clever 👏🏻🤣
And not the first call Ian would get from co-authors 😳🫣
excellent scenario, of course Fleming had undocumented negotiations with Ms Michelle. funny she didnt get any credit in the film version, it just said Fleming, where were her lawyers?
minor detail, but it of course sticks out to me: Vivienne would speak with a Québécoise accent which is its own thing. Think former PM Chrétien, if you ever heard him talk.
1970. M’s office. His pipe clenched firmly in his teeth, he works assuredly through a small collection of reports. The intercom buzzes.
M: (On intercom.) Yes?
Miss Moneypenny: 007 to see you, sir.
M: (Surprised.) I hadn’t sent for him.
Miss Moneypenny: Yes, sir, but he says he has to see you. (A voice can be heard saying something in the background.) He says it is very important.
M: Oh, all right, send him in.
(The door opens and James Bond enters. Something in his stride strikes M as different from usual. Of course, 007 had not been himself recently- quite understandable, given the circumstances of his new wife’s sudden death so soon after their marriage.)
M: Good morning, 007, sit down.
Bond: Thank you, Sir Miles.
(M looks at Bond sharply as he sits down. It was most unusual for Bond to address his chief as anything except “Sir”, and certainly never by name during office hours.)
M: You have something important to discuss?
Bond: Yes, Sir Miles. I have come to tender my resignation.
M: Your resignation? Is this to give you more time to search for Blofeld? You understand that by remaining an active officer you have the entire resources of our Service at your disposal, as I promised you.
Bond: I know that, and please believe me when I say that I am grateful for your undertaking and that by permitting me to devote myself to that task you have been a great comfort to me.
M: Then why should you want, out of the blue, to suddenly offer me your resignation? A resignation, I must tell you, which I would not welcome.
Bond: I had a visitor last night.
M: Your address is supposed to be a closely guarded secret, for obvious reasons. One of your lady friends, I suppose.
Bond: No, Sir Miles, a solicitor. In fact, the solicitor of my late father-in-law Marc-Ange Draco.
M: Ah, yes, the news had come in about his death. Heart attack, I believe, though he was still comparatively young.
(M knew better than to offer condolences. Whatever emotion Bond would be feeling about the death of Draco would be as nothing compared to his grieving for Draco’s daughter Tracy.)
Bond: Indeed. The visit, which I had not expected, was in connection with Monsieur Draco’s last will and testament.
M: Oh yes?
Bond: Draco had left his entire estate- a considerable amount of money, large and numerous properties, and many business interests- to his daughter Teresa.
(Understanding had come to M while Bond had been speaking, and he now could see the consequences of Draco’s bequest. He nods slowly and begins to speak.)
M: Your late wife. Which means that you are the sole heir of a very large fortune.
Bond: Yes. I would think that Draco probably intended to change his will after Tracy’s death, but being as heartbroken as I, if not more so, he never got around to it. I would imagine that whatever changes he made, entirely his own business of course, he would have made some provision for me- the sum of a million pounds had been mentioned by him as a dowry though refused by me- but since he never changed the will then that is academic and I inherit everything.
(M exhales a controlled stream of breath before reaching for his pipe, which had unsurprisingly gone out while Bond had been talking.)
M: You are quite correct, 007, to come to me with such an important matter. What I don’t understand, however, is why you should wish to tender your resignation.
Bond: You will remember that when I was searching for Blofeld the Service and all official channels had been unable to find him?
M: Of course. And I remember that Draco was able to point you and therefore us in the right direction to find him.
Bond: Draco was the head of the Union Corse, a very powerful crime syndicate with far-reaching tentacles. If they found Blofeld once, they can do it again. Official channels have proved useless. This time my motive for finding him is far stronger and more personal- it could hardly be more so- than before.
M: But, 00… James… I think I can grasp your intentions here. Can I ask you to at least take some time to think things over? Say, have a month’s leave then come back to me and give me your decision. You have my word I will respect and honour it.
Bond: That’s kind of you to say, Sir Miles, but since I am now the de facto head of an international criminal organisation I believe it will be in my best interests to quietly disappear. You know that you have always had my trust and I know you will not make any attempts to stop me now, but if I return in a month’s time then others will inevitably have heard about the situation and you could not guarantee my security.
(M returns Bond’s calm stare, internally acknowledging the logic of what had been said. He can see no other way to resolve the situation.)
M: All right, James. If that’s the way you want it.
Bond: Thank you, Sir Miles. One more favour to ask, if I may be so bold- may I have a few moments to say goodbye to Miss Moneypenny before you begin doing what you have to do ?
M: Of course.
(Bond nods, then gets up and goes through the door. M puffs joylessly at his pipe and considers who to call first.)
Sir MilesThe Wrong Side Of The WardrobePosts: 27,923Chief of Staff
Ingenious 👏🏻
Could have been an interesting film too…SPECTRE v Union Corse 🤔
Monday: Totally thrilled to be cast in the next James Bond film, it’s my highest profile part to date. They tell me it’s a remake of one of the older ones, and that I’ll be playing one Nigel Small-Fawcett. I hope the rest of the jokes are better than that one.
------------------------------------
Tuesday: Cast meeting. Great to meet Sean Connery, he’s an idol of mine. He still looks fine, and doesn’t need that stupid hairpiece at all. Especially with the wonderful clothes he’ll be wearing.
They tell me that he’s younger than Roger Moore, which is easy to believe. Come to think of it, everybody starring in this film is younger than Roger Moore!
Wednesday: Went to see the producer, Kevin, but stopped outside his door when I heard him shouting and swearing at the telephone. I don’t know who was on the other end of the line but it sounded like he was saying “bucking froccoli”. I decided to find another time to see him.
Thursday: I had to sneak up on Sean and our leading lady, Kim Basinger, while they were lounging beside a pool and me being the comic relief naturally I ended up in it. Apparently I don’t rate a stunt double so I had to do it myself. Good Lord, Sean really is strong and after five takes I was beginning to feel a little bruised.
Friday: All this experience has given me an idea. I think I would like to be starring as a James Bond-style spy myself. I asked my agent about it it and he was less than keen, saying nobody would want to see me as a spy. Hmph. We’ll see about that.
Sir MilesThe Wrong Side Of The WardrobePosts: 27,923Chief of Staff
The weather had remained good. James Bond was pleased to see that, since good weather could not be guaranteed either side of the Channel even in June. A warm sun shone on the collected Royals, politicians, military, and simply onlookers. Most of all, he gladly noted, it shone on the row of aged ex-servicemen, their numbers sadly decreasing year by year. Veterans, the Americans would call them. Heroes in any language.
In his Royal Navy uniform Bond did not stand out among the other British military personnel gathered to salute the last survivors of D-Day on this, the 80th Anniversary. He could catch glimpses of the honoured troopers between the modern-day army of press photographers and television cameras. His own role that day still remained shrouded in secrecy, although some small snippets had emerged over the years since. The many years since, he reminded himself. It was his good fortune that he still remained fit and active these days, only awaiting his next assignment.
The photographers all rushed away as one, heading for a spot where four men stood together, and began their work. Bond strolled along after them and looked at the four. The American President was instantly recognizable, even without his trademark sunglasses, as was his French equivalent. The German Chancellor stood between them, savouring the moment as any good politician with an election coming up would do. Speaking of which, at the left stood… No, Bond must be mistaken. The man he was looking at had been Prime Minister perhaps ten years ago, but not now. Today he was the Foreign Secretary. Bond blinked. He was well aware that there was a General Election happening in the United Kingdom very soon, and that the Prime Minister really should have been here. It was a function of the role, to remember sacrifices and show respect for the fallen. Where could he be? From behind, Bond heard the faint sound of a helicopter taking off.
Sir MilesThe Wrong Side Of The WardrobePosts: 27,923Chief of Staff
It's well known that Quentin Tarantino is a Bond fan, once offering to direct Pierce Brosnan in his own version of CR (Eon declined the offer, of course). What's less well known is that as a precocious eight year old he sent in his own script for DAF (and Eon declined, setting the pattern). We've managed to retrieve one scene from that....
1971. McCarran Airport, outside Las Vegas. The newly landed James Bond, masquerading as Peter Franks, stands beside a coffin containing his supposed brother- actually the real Peter Franks. An airport official is beginning to do the necessary paperwork when Felix Leiter approaches.
Felix: (To the official.) Get some lunch, Jerry, I’ll take over. (To Bond.) Death certificate, please, Mr Franks.
James: Well, well, well. Felix Leiter, you old fraud.
Felix: On behalf of the CIA, welcome to America. Over from Amsterdam, huh?
James: That’s right.
Felix: Okay now, tell me about the hash bars?
James: What do you want to know?
Felix: Well, hash is legal there, right?
James: Yes it's legal, but it isn’t one hundred percent legal. I mean you can't walk into a restaurant, roll a joint, and start puffing away. You're only supposed to smoke in your home or certain designated places.
Felix: Those are hash bars?
James: Yes, it breaks down like this: it's legal to buy it, it's legal to own it, and if you're the proprietor of a hash bar, it's legal to sell it. It's legal to carry it, which doesn't really matter because- now pay attention– if the police stop you, it's illegal for them to search you. Searching you is a right that the police in Amsterdam don't have.
Felix: That did it, James – I'm definitely going, that's all there is to it.
James: You'll enjoy it. But you know what the funniest thing about Europe is?
Felix: What?
James: It's the little differences. A lot of the same things you have here they have there, but they’re a little different.
Felix: Examples?
James: Well, in Amsterdam you can buy beer in a cinema, and not in a paper cup. They give you a glass of beer, like in a bar. In Paris you can buy beer at MacDonalds. Also, do you know what they call a Quarter Pounder with Cheese in Paris?
Felix: They don’t call it a Quarter Pounder with Cheese?
James: No, they use the metric system there- they wouldn’t know what a Quarter Pounder is.
Felix: What do they call it?
James: Royale with Cheese.
Felix: Royale with Cheese. What do they call a Big Mac?
James: A Big Mac is a Big Mac, but they call it Le Big Mac.
Felix: Le Big Mac. What do they call a Whopper?
James: I don’t know, I didn’t go to Burger King. But do you know what they put on French fries in Holland instead of ketchup?
Felix: What?
James: Mayonnaise.
Felix: Goddamn!
James: I’ve seen them do it. And I don't mean a little bit on the side of the plate, they absolutely drown them in it.
Felix: Yuch! But you better get on your way- someone sent their brain trust down to meet you.
Felix: (Louder.) The rest of your luggage has been cleared, Mr Franks. Okay, fellas!
Sir MilesThe Wrong Side Of The WardrobePosts: 27,923Chief of Staff
Comments
MGW: Can’t do that, he’d be put on a plane and sent to Rwanda.
Classic 😂😂😂
Many thanks, CHB 😊 and the following was your idea!
1969. The Kwouk household. Burt is pacing up and down, never getting too far away from the telephone.
Mrs Kwouk: Oh sit down, Burt, why don’t you?
Burt: Sit down? I can’t sit down!
Mrs Kwouk: Let me make you a nice cup of tea and-
Burt: How can I think of tea at a time like this?
Mrs Kwouk: What do you mean, a time like this? Nothing is happening!
Burt: Exactly. Nothing is happening. The new James Bond film, with a new James Bond, is being made and they haven’t phoned me!
Mrs Kwouk: Why should they phone you?
Burt: Because I was in “Goldfinger”
And I was in their latest one, “You Only Live Twice”
And I was in “Casino Royale”.
Mrs Kwouk: Well, you can’t count that one.
Burt: My bank account certainly did. I’ve become one of the regulars, like Bernard Lee and Lois Maxwell and Desmond Ll … Llew … the guy who plays Q.
Mrs Kwouk: Not quite like them, dear, they always play the same character.
Burt: It’s close enough- people recognise me!
Mrs Kwouk: Burt, people recognise you and say they loved it when you attacked Inspector Clouseau-
Not from spotting you in a James Bond movie!
Burt: Are you saying that I should spend the rest of my career playing the guy who attacks Peter Sellers?
Mrs Kwouk: No, I’m just saying it’s that which makes you recognisable.
Burt: Hmph. Well, I don’t think there’ll be more “Pink Panther” movies anyway so we’ll never find out.
etc etc
Etc
Bert certainly was a busy boy…making Bond films…Pink Panther films….opening a Chinese nookie factory 👀
Excellent again, Barbel 🍸🤣
I hasten to add that the only thing I did was to suggest that Burt Kwouk would be a good subject for the “pacers” spoofs, the entire sketch is from Barbel’s imagination, and very good it is too!🍻
Thank you, guys. The post from @Sir Miles above featured the very lovely Valerie Leon, which got me thinking.... (Normally I wouldn't do two pacers in a row, but I couldn't resist)
1987. The Leon household. Valerie is pacing up and down, never getting too far away from the telephone.
Husband: Oh sit down, Valerie, why don’t you?
Valerie: Sit down? I can’t sit down!
Husband: Just try to relax.
Valerie: Relax? How can I relax!
Husband: Just sit here and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.
Valerie: I can’t think of tea at a time like this!
Husband: What do you mean, a time like this? Nothing is happening.
Valerie: Exactly. They’re just about to start shooting on the new James Bond film, “The Living Daylights”, and I haven’t heard anything!
Husband: Well, perhaps they don’t want you to-
Valerie: Of course they want me! Wasn’t I in a Bond film with Roger Moore?
Husband: Well, yes, of course you were.
Valerie: And then wasn’t I in a James Bond film with Sean Connery?
Husband: Of course you were.
Valerie: And they have a new James Bond this time- Timothy something-or-other- so they will obviously want me to be in the film with him!
Husband: I’m not sure that’s how they would like things to work.
Valerie: I’ve read the script, and there’s a part in it that is just perfect for me.
Perfect!
Husband: Suppose they already have someone lined up for that part? Is there maybe another part you would like?
Valerie: Well, yes, but I’d never be able to learn the cello in time.
Husband: We’ll just have to forget about it and carry on.
Valerie: Carry on? Never say that again!
🤣
And that picture of Valerie I posted above go me thinking too…but they were all very naughty thoughts 🤭
Naughty thoughts? Where is @Thunderpussy when you need him?
1963. Goldeneye, Jamaica. Ian Fleming sits at his typewriter, a cigarette holder clamped tightly between his teeth, and pounds away at the keys. Occasionally he takes a sip from an easily accessible glass containing… well, you should certainly know what it contains by now. His housekeeper Violet comes in.
Violet: Telephone call for you, Commander.
Fleming: Did they say who it was? I’m busy at the moment.
Violet: Sounded like a young lady.
Fleming: Ah, all right.
(He gets up and walks to the telephone.)
Fleming: Hello?
Voice: (Polite, slight Canadian accent.) Mr Fleming?
Fleming: Yes, who’s this?
Voice: It’s Vivienne Michel, don’t you recognize my voice?
Fleming: (Ah. He’d been dreading this call.) Of course. How are you?
Vivienne: I’m fine. Had you been expecting me?
Fleming: Why, no, Vivienne, not at all.
Vivienne: Call me Viv, you must remember that.
Fleming: Viv, yes of course.
Viv: Are you not wondering why I’ve called?
Fleming: You didn’t like the book cover?
Viv: No, I thought it was just fine.
Fleming: The write-up inside the fly-leaf?
Viv: A little over the top, but I can live with it.
Fleming: Well, in that case why are you calling?
Viv: I’ll keep it simple: money.
Fleming: But I sent you some money, in the percentage we had agreed, when the royalties for the book came in.
Viv: Yes, and I’m waiting for the rest of it.
Fleming: What do you mean, the rest of it?
Viv: Is that all there is?
Fleming: Look, Viv, it just didn’t sell as well as my other books. That’s unfortunate, but it’s all there is to it.
Viv: I can’t believe your books don’t make more money than that!
Fleming: That was for the hardback sales. It’s in the paperbacks that the real money lies- those sell by the million.
Viv: Well?
Fleming: (Drawing a deep breath.) There won’t be a paperback of this one, Viv.
Viv: And why would that be?
Fleming: Because I say so. The critics were merciless, it was banned in various countries such as Australia, and most importantly my wife didn’t like it.
Viv: But-
Fleming: So I have told the publishers there will be no reprints. There will be no paperback edition. And I have told the film producers there will no film.
Viv: (Shocked.) No film?
Fleming: No film. Oh, they can use the title if they like but that’s it.
Viv: Well, you might have consulted me about all this! I am your co-author, you know!
Fleming: And I would have consulted you if I had known where you were. Where have you been, by the way?
Viv: Ah, I’ve been back with James again.
Fleming: (One eyebrow raised.) Really? And what did you get up to?
Viv: Well, it was like this. Do you remember me telling you I was allergic to wheat?
Fleming: (Eyes beginning to glaze over.) Er… no.
Viv: I did tell you, but I could see your eyes sort of glazing over. And there’s wheat everywhere in Canada! So, I saw this advert and I went to be treated for my allergy at a clinic in Switzerland.
Fleming: Switzerland…
Viv: Wait a moment, are you writing this down or something?
Fleming: Oh no, no. Definitely not.
Viv: Right, well, this clinic was on top of an Alp, would you believe?
Fleming: On top of an Alp…
Viv: Are you sure you’re not writing this down?
Fleming: Oh no, please continue.
Viv: Anyway, James was there one day and ……
Very clever 👏🏻🤣
And not the first call Ian would get from co-authors 😳🫣
excellent scenario, of course Fleming had undocumented negotiations with Ms Michelle. funny she didnt get any credit in the film version, it just said Fleming, where were her lawyers?
minor detail, but it of course sticks out to me: Vivienne would speak with a Québécoise accent which is its own thing. Think former PM Chrétien, if you ever heard him talk.
Thanks to you both. Caractacus, I bow to your superior knowledge re accents.
Today's Conversation will be a collaboration with @Number24.
By Number24 and Barbel
1990. Isthmus City. Miss Moneypenny sits in the luxurious bar of the main hotel, sipping an only slightly alcoholic cocktail at the bar.
Barman: Another drink, miss?
Moneypenny: Oh, no, thank you. (Smiles uncertainly.) I’m not finished this yet.
Barman: Of course.
(The door opens and an attractive woman enters. The barman instantly leaps to attention as she walks to the bar.)
Woman: My usual. And quickly.
Barman: Of course, Madame Lupe, at once.
(The barman begins mixing and shaking, though not stirring, a rather familiar looking cocktail. Lupe looks over at Moneypenny.)
Lupe: You are new here.
Moneypenny: Yes, I just flew in this afternoon.
Lupe: British accent.
Moneypenny: I’m from London, here on holiday.
Lupe: I had a … friend … from London last year.
Moneypenny: Oh yes? Well, it’s a big place and-
Lupe: (Completely ignoring what Moneypenny was saying.) He was only here for a brief time.
Barman: Here you are, Madame Lupe.
(Lupe takes the drink without thanks.)
Lupe: It was he who told me about this drink. Three measures of Gordons, one of-
Moneypenny: -vodka, half a measure of-
Barman: -Kina Lillet, shake it very well until it’s ice cold-
Lupe: -then add a large thin slice of-
All together: Lemon peel!
(The barman quietly disappears as Lupe and Moneypenny stare at each other.)
Moneypenny: And, er, what did this friend of yours from London look like?
Lupe: (Shrugging slightly.) Tall, dark and handsome.
Moneypenny: Did he like to wear a tuxedo with a white shirt and a black bow tie?
Lupe: I did see him wear that once, yes. Do you think you know him?
Moneypenny: Oh no. I don’t think I know anyone like that at all...
1970. M’s office. His pipe clenched firmly in his teeth, he works assuredly through a small collection of reports. The intercom buzzes.
M: (On intercom.) Yes?
Miss Moneypenny: 007 to see you, sir.
M: (Surprised.) I hadn’t sent for him.
Miss Moneypenny: Yes, sir, but he says he has to see you. (A voice can be heard saying something in the background.) He says it is very important.
M: Oh, all right, send him in.
(The door opens and James Bond enters. Something in his stride strikes M as different from usual. Of course, 007 had not been himself recently- quite understandable, given the circumstances of his new wife’s sudden death so soon after their marriage.)
M: Good morning, 007, sit down.
Bond: Thank you, Sir Miles.
(M looks at Bond sharply as he sits down. It was most unusual for Bond to address his chief as anything except “Sir”, and certainly never by name during office hours.)
M: You have something important to discuss?
Bond: Yes, Sir Miles. I have come to tender my resignation.
M: Your resignation? Is this to give you more time to search for Blofeld? You understand that by remaining an active officer you have the entire resources of our Service at your disposal, as I promised you.
Bond: I know that, and please believe me when I say that I am grateful for your undertaking and that by permitting me to devote myself to that task you have been a great comfort to me.
M: Then why should you want, out of the blue, to suddenly offer me your resignation? A resignation, I must tell you, which I would not welcome.
Bond: I had a visitor last night.
M: Your address is supposed to be a closely guarded secret, for obvious reasons. One of your lady friends, I suppose.
Bond: No, Sir Miles, a solicitor. In fact, the solicitor of my late father-in-law Marc-Ange Draco.
M: Ah, yes, the news had come in about his death. Heart attack, I believe, though he was still comparatively young.
(M knew better than to offer condolences. Whatever emotion Bond would be feeling about the death of Draco would be as nothing compared to his grieving for Draco’s daughter Tracy.)
Bond: Indeed. The visit, which I had not expected, was in connection with Monsieur Draco’s last will and testament.
M: Oh yes?
Bond: Draco had left his entire estate- a considerable amount of money, large and numerous properties, and many business interests- to his daughter Teresa.
(Understanding had come to M while Bond had been speaking, and he now could see the consequences of Draco’s bequest. He nods slowly and begins to speak.)
M: Your late wife. Which means that you are the sole heir of a very large fortune.
Bond: Yes. I would think that Draco probably intended to change his will after Tracy’s death, but being as heartbroken as I, if not more so, he never got around to it. I would imagine that whatever changes he made, entirely his own business of course, he would have made some provision for me- the sum of a million pounds had been mentioned by him as a dowry though refused by me- but since he never changed the will then that is academic and I inherit everything.
(M exhales a controlled stream of breath before reaching for his pipe, which had unsurprisingly gone out while Bond had been talking.)
M: You are quite correct, 007, to come to me with such an important matter. What I don’t understand, however, is why you should wish to tender your resignation.
Bond: You will remember that when I was searching for Blofeld the Service and all official channels had been unable to find him?
M: Of course. And I remember that Draco was able to point you and therefore us in the right direction to find him.
Bond: Draco was the head of the Union Corse, a very powerful crime syndicate with far-reaching tentacles. If they found Blofeld once, they can do it again. Official channels have proved useless. This time my motive for finding him is far stronger and more personal- it could hardly be more so- than before.
M: But, 00… James… I think I can grasp your intentions here. Can I ask you to at least take some time to think things over? Say, have a month’s leave then come back to me and give me your decision. You have my word I will respect and honour it.
Bond: That’s kind of you to say, Sir Miles, but since I am now the de facto head of an international criminal organisation I believe it will be in my best interests to quietly disappear. You know that you have always had my trust and I know you will not make any attempts to stop me now, but if I return in a month’s time then others will inevitably have heard about the situation and you could not guarantee my security.
(M returns Bond’s calm stare, internally acknowledging the logic of what had been said. He can see no other way to resolve the situation.)
M: All right, James. If that’s the way you want it.
Bond: Thank you, Sir Miles. One more favour to ask, if I may be so bold- may I have a few moments to say goodbye to Miss Moneypenny before you begin doing what you have to do ?
M: Of course.
(Bond nods, then gets up and goes through the door. M puffs joylessly at his pipe and considers who to call first.)
Ingenious 👏🏻
Could have been an interesting film too…SPECTRE v Union Corse 🤔
What a premise! Fabulous stuff, Barbel 🍻
I can easily see this happen.
Thank you all very much, guys.
1983.
The Diary Of Rowan Atkinson
Monday: Totally thrilled to be cast in the next James Bond film, it’s my highest profile part to date. They tell me it’s a remake of one of the older ones, and that I’ll be playing one Nigel Small-Fawcett. I hope the rest of the jokes are better than that one.
------------------------------------
Tuesday: Cast meeting. Great to meet Sean Connery, he’s an idol of mine. He still looks fine, and doesn’t need that stupid hairpiece at all. Especially with the wonderful clothes he’ll be wearing.
They tell me that he’s younger than Roger Moore, which is easy to believe. Come to think of it, everybody starring in this film is younger than Roger Moore!
Yes, including Max von Sydow.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Wednesday: Went to see the producer, Kevin, but stopped outside his door when I heard him shouting and swearing at the telephone. I don’t know who was on the other end of the line but it sounded like he was saying “bucking froccoli”. I decided to find another time to see him.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Thursday: I had to sneak up on Sean and our leading lady, Kim Basinger, while they were lounging beside a pool and me being the comic relief naturally I ended up in it. Apparently I don’t rate a stunt double so I had to do it myself. Good Lord, Sean really is strong and after five takes I was beginning to feel a little bruised.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Friday: All this experience has given me an idea. I think I would like to be starring as a James Bond-style spy myself. I asked my agent about it it and he was less than keen, saying nobody would want to see me as a spy. Hmph. We’ll see about that.
Bucking froccoli 🤣🤣
Johnny English, written by Purvis and Wade. Probably all the ideas Babs and MGW rejected.
Thanks very much, guys
I'm off on holiday with the family for the next ten days or so. No Imaginary Conversations unless someone else would like to fill the gap...?
(I might be able to post, but won't have a PC)
I'm briefly interrupting my holiday....
6th June, 2024
The weather had remained good. James Bond was pleased to see that, since good weather could not be guaranteed either side of the Channel even in June. A warm sun shone on the collected Royals, politicians, military, and simply onlookers. Most of all, he gladly noted, it shone on the row of aged ex-servicemen, their numbers sadly decreasing year by year. Veterans, the Americans would call them. Heroes in any language.
In his Royal Navy uniform Bond did not stand out among the other British military personnel gathered to salute the last survivors of D-Day on this, the 80th Anniversary. He could catch glimpses of the honoured troopers between the modern-day army of press photographers and television cameras. His own role that day still remained shrouded in secrecy, although some small snippets had emerged over the years since. The many years since, he reminded himself. It was his good fortune that he still remained fit and active these days, only awaiting his next assignment.
The photographers all rushed away as one, heading for a spot where four men stood together, and began their work. Bond strolled along after them and looked at the four. The American President was instantly recognizable, even without his trademark sunglasses, as was his French equivalent. The German Chancellor stood between them, savouring the moment as any good politician with an election coming up would do. Speaking of which, at the left stood… No, Bond must be mistaken. The man he was looking at had been Prime Minister perhaps ten years ago, but not now. Today he was the Foreign Secretary. Bond blinked. He was well aware that there was a General Election happening in the United Kingdom very soon, and that the Prime Minister really should have been here. It was a function of the role, to remember sacrifices and show respect for the fallen. Where could he be? From behind, Bond heard the faint sound of a helicopter taking off.
All too true…😶
Back from my holiday! 😀
It's well known that Quentin Tarantino is a Bond fan, once offering to direct Pierce Brosnan in his own version of CR (Eon declined the offer, of course). What's less well known is that as a precocious eight year old he sent in his own script for DAF (and Eon declined, setting the pattern). We've managed to retrieve one scene from that....
1971. McCarran Airport, outside Las Vegas. The newly landed James Bond, masquerading as Peter Franks, stands beside a coffin containing his supposed brother- actually the real Peter Franks. An airport official is beginning to do the necessary paperwork when Felix Leiter approaches.
Felix: (To the official.) Get some lunch, Jerry, I’ll take over. (To Bond.) Death certificate, please, Mr Franks.
James: Well, well, well. Felix Leiter, you old fraud.
Felix: On behalf of the CIA, welcome to America. Over from Amsterdam, huh?
James: That’s right.
Felix: Okay now, tell me about the hash bars?
James: What do you want to know?
Felix: Well, hash is legal there, right?
James: Yes it's legal, but it isn’t one hundred percent legal. I mean you can't walk into a restaurant, roll a joint, and start puffing away. You're only supposed to smoke in your home or certain designated places.
Felix: Those are hash bars?
James: Yes, it breaks down like this: it's legal to buy it, it's legal to own it, and if you're the proprietor of a hash bar, it's legal to sell it. It's legal to carry it, which doesn't really matter because- now pay attention– if the police stop you, it's illegal for them to search you. Searching you is a right that the police in Amsterdam don't have.
Felix: That did it, James – I'm definitely going, that's all there is to it.
James: You'll enjoy it. But you know what the funniest thing about Europe is?
Felix: What?
James: It's the little differences. A lot of the same things you have here they have there, but they’re a little different.
Felix: Examples?
James: Well, in Amsterdam you can buy beer in a cinema, and not in a paper cup. They give you a glass of beer, like in a bar. In Paris you can buy beer at MacDonalds. Also, do you know what they call a Quarter Pounder with Cheese in Paris?
Felix: They don’t call it a Quarter Pounder with Cheese?
James: No, they use the metric system there- they wouldn’t know what a Quarter Pounder is.
Felix: What do they call it?
James: Royale with Cheese.
Felix: Royale with Cheese. What do they call a Big Mac?
James: A Big Mac is a Big Mac, but they call it Le Big Mac.
Felix: Le Big Mac. What do they call a Whopper?
James: I don’t know, I didn’t go to Burger King. But do you know what they put on French fries in Holland instead of ketchup?
Felix: What?
James: Mayonnaise.
Felix: Goddamn!
James: I’ve seen them do it. And I don't mean a little bit on the side of the plate, they absolutely drown them in it.
Felix: Yuch! But you better get on your way- someone sent their brain trust down to meet you.
Felix: (Louder.) The rest of your luggage has been cleared, Mr Franks. Okay, fellas!
And a welcome return too 🤣👏🏻
Good to have you back, Barbel, and with a corker too!
Many thanks, guys, though Bond would never go to a MacD or a Burger King!
True, but Felix liked a KFC 🤣
😁😁😁