Thanks to Barbel for coming up with all the best lines on this collaboration:
1962. What will become Eon HQ.
Harry: Say Cubby, now that we have the rights, let’s make the film. First, we need to find a star. Cary Grant?
Cubby: He’ll only commit to one picture. And we’ve bought the rights to just about all of the books.
Harry: Patrick McGoohan?
Cubby: Seems he won’t be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed or numbered 007.
Harry: Hmmm. David Niven? Roger Moore?
Cubby: Can’t see that ever happening. And Roger? His hair’s brown, bit too light. Imagine a blond Bond, haha!
Harry: Over my dead body!
Cubby: Mine too! Maybe we ought to try that fella with the funny accent again? Sean Who-sis?
Harry: Connery? Yeah, perfect casting, I’m sure he’ll sign for a few pics, and he’ll be a pussycat when it comes to negotiating future fees, eh. (Pauses) Say Cubby, what did you think of the book?
Cubby: I loved it, Harry. You?
Harry: Nah, think there are some things we could change.
Cubby: Change? Like what?
Harry: That giant squid has got to go. There’s no way we can do that on the budget we have.
Cubby: Ok, you’re right there. We’ll have to think of something else to end the movie.
Harry: And the part where the girl comes out of the sea naked- NO WAY are we going to get away with that.
Cubby: Again, I give you that. We’ll just have to have her wear a bikini.
Harry: Now, we’re wanting to use James Bond’s friend Felix Leiter regularly but he isn’t in this book. I think he should go in.
Cubby: You’re right, Harry, in he goes.
Harry: And the character Miss Taro- I think she should have a much larger part in the film than the book, maybe try to seduce Bond into some kind of trap.
Cubby: Right again, Harry, that’s a great idea.
Harry: There should definitely be a car chase.
Cubby: Car chase, yes, I agree.
Harry: We should first meet James Bond in a casino, playing cards with some beautiful lady.
Cubby: Harry, what can I say, you’re right again.
Harry: And Dr No should be a monkey sitting on the villain’s shoulder.
Cubby: What????
1965. A road in Northern France. Bond stands patiently beside his car. An AA van draws up.
L’homme d’AA: Hello, monsieur.
James: Hello, there.
AA: Ah, you are English!
James: It’s close enough. Thank you for attending.
AA: So, you have, how you say, telephoned us about your car.
James: Yes, it appears that it won’t start.
AA: And what a beautiful car you have, sir. An Aston Martin- DB4, I think?
James: DB5.
AA: So! If you would just pop the bonnet open, I shall take a look. (James opens the bonnet.)
AA: Hmm, it would seem very crowded under here, n’est pas?
James: Er, I’ve had some optional extras installed.
AA: I do not recognize this machinery here-
James: Please, don’t touch that! It’s, ah, an experimental model.
AA: Oh, I see. And this here?
James: It’s a prototype.... yes… a prototype.
AA: If you would be kind enough to get in and start the engine, s’il vous plait.
James: One moment…. There. (Nothing happens.)
AA: Hm, you appear to be right.
James: (Aside.) ...Thank you…
AA: Please, just give me a few minutes. (James wanders away and lights a Morlands cigarette. After a few moments-)
AA: Ah, I think I have found what is wrong! (Adjusts a few wires.) Et voila! (He climbs into the car.)
AA: Now, let me just try her in gear. Hmm, what is this?
James: (Quickly.) Whatever you do, don’t…. Ah. Oh, well....
In my head I had to remember AA is your version of AAA. As an American I see AA and usually think Alcoholics Anonymous, which puts an interesting spin on the skit. )
M is speaking with Q on her intercom, as Miranda Frost, the beautiful blonde cryptographer, enters. M waves her a seat as she finishes up her conversation.
M: ... Well, he no longer drives a Lotus. (She snaps the intercom to the off position, and smiles up at her guest). So: tell me what you know about him. (Miranda settles herself, and addresses M thoughtfully).
Miranda: He's wild one, as I discovered today. He'll light fuses on any explosive situation and be a danger to himself and others. Kill first, ask questions later. He's a blunt instrument, whose primary method is to provoke and confront.
M: Go on.
Miranda: A man nobody can get close to. A womaniser.
M: Well, you're going to be seeing a lot more of him in Iceland.
Miranda: Iceland?
M: Yes. Graves has a huge diamond mine there. You must know this, you've been working with the man for three months. So I'm sending you and Bond there.
Miranda: Bond? I thought you said.... I thought you were talking about POTUS...
Producer: Right then, John, so we’re all here to record this tune which has been completely written by Monty Norman.
John Barry: That’s right, this tune was entirely written by Monty Norman for a movie called “Dr No”.
Producer: Oh right, I’ve read the book. So, this is the first James Bond film and Monty Norman has totally written this tune for it.
JB: Yes, it’s a theme for James Bond and was wholly written by Monty Norman.
Producer: So, how do you hear the musical arrangement for this tune, which was unquestionably written by Monty Norman?
JB: Well, I thought the first part could be on guitar and then we bring in the brass for this tune which was absolutely written by Monty Norman.
Producer: Then I guess that Vic Flick will be playing guitar on this tune, which was categorically written by Monty Norman?
JB: Of course, as usual. Vic, please have a look at the music for this tune which was definitely written by Monty Norman.
Vic Flick: Sure, John. (Examines the music score, picks out a few notes on his guitar.) Hey, this is quite like your tunes “Beat Girl” or “Bees Knees”.
JB: No, Vic, that must be a coincidence. This tune was unqualifiedly written by Monty Norman.
Vic: But-
JB: (Aside.) Later, Vic, later. (Aloud.) Ready, guys, let’s go for a take on my- damn, I mean this tune which was certainly written by Monty Norman. Let’s get ready- and a 1, 2, 3, 4….
(The producer, with whom I corresponded before his passing, was called John Burgess but I left him anonymous here to avoid confusion with John Barry during this completely imaginary conversation about the recording of a tune that was undeniably written by Monty Norman. Absolutely.)
(The telephone rings.)
Moe: Moe's Tavern.
Voice: Is Molly there?
Moe: Who?
Voice: Molly. Second name Warmflash.
Moe: I dunno, I'll see. Hey guys, I'm looking for a Molly, Molly Warmflash. (Homer, Barney and company begin to laugh.)
Moe: I want a Warmflash! (The laughter gets louder as Moe realizes.)
Moe: Listen you piece of crap. when I get holda you I'm gonna bounce you like a ball! (In a home not far away, two children laugh uproariously as they put the phone down.)
1956. At the door of a fashionable flat in Mayfair.
Anne: Now, behave yourself tonight, Ian.
Ian: What? I always behave myself at these parties.
Anne: Try not to drink too much.
Ian: I’m sorry, I don’t understand.
Anne: I said, try not-
Ian: Oh, I heard you, I just don’t understand the concept.
Anne: Well, just don’t do what you did last time.
Ian: Last time? What do you mean?
Anne: When you had a bit too much and patted the wife of the Home Secretary on her-
(The door opens.)
Hostess: Anne, Ian, how lovely to see you!
Anne: You too! (They blow air kisses.)
Hostess: Do come in, do come in. (The Flemings enter.)
Anne: How lovely, you must introduce me to some of your guests.
Hostess: Of course, of course. Ian, the bar’s over there. (She’s met him before.)
Ian: Thank you.
(He wanders over to the drinks, where he serves himself his usual. Two chinless wonders are there.)
1st Man: Hello, you’ll be Anne’s husband then?
Ian: That’s right, the name’s-
2nd Man: (Interrupting.) The one who writes those dreadful books!
Ian: Dreadful?
2nd Man: I read your last one- some rich chap called Drax and a missile called Moonraker. Total nonsense.
Ian: Well, if-
1st Man: Oh yes, I read one once. Or started to, anyway. Something about a casino. Couldn’t finish it.
2nd Man: They’re all about the same character, now what was his name…?
Fleming: Bond. (Lights cigarette.) James Bond.
1st Man: That’s right. What’s the next one going to be about?
Ian: Diamond smuggling. Starts in Africa, moves to Las Vegas.
2nd Man: Sounds terrible! Oh by the way, I’m Mr Kidd. And this is Mr Wint.
Fleming: (Writing that down in a small notebook.) I see. Perhaps you might find my next book a bit more interesting.
(Ian walks away, drink in hand. He is approached by the hostess.)
Hostess: Ian, come with me. there’s a most interesting man you simply have to meet. (She introduces them.)
Hostess: Erno, this is Ian. Ian, this is Erno.
Erno: Hello, I believe you’re Anne’s husband?
Ian: Yes, that’s right.
Erno: Write books, I’m told.
Ian: Yes, that’s true. What do you do?
Erno: I’m an architect myself.
Ian: How interesting.
Erno: It most certainly is. Man has climbed Mount Everest, gone to the bottom of the ocean. He has fired rockets to the moon. Split the atom. Achieved miracles in every field of human endeavour… except architecture! But I shall see to that!
Ian: Well, I-
Erno: Here, take my card. You can call me and if I have the time, perhaps I can design a building for you. A building that will live longer than any of your terrible books! I shall be famous!
Ian: (Reading the card.) Oh I have no doubt that you shall be very famous, Mr Goldfinger.
(I've played with the facts just a bit... well, quite a lot actually)
Kidd's name was originally "Gore", and Fleming didn't really run into him at a party. "Boofy" Gore was Anne's cousin and friendly with Ian. He was outraged to discover his name given to a hitman, causing Fleming to apologize and change the name to Kidd. (I believe some early edition or editions of DAF still have the name as Gore and are probably worth a pound or two. I checked, mine doesn't )
Told you I wasn't aiming for accuracy!
Similarly, the real Goldfinger complained when the novel was published, but settled for a few free copies of the book and the "All characters are fictional etc" line.
There's much more about this in Silhouette Man's Bondologist Blog, if anyone is interested.
1922. Eton, England. A young Fleming is walking along unconcernedly, when suddenly an older, larger boy walks in front of him.
Boy: Stop right there, Fleming.
Fleming: What do you want?
Boy: Oh, you know what I want. Turn out your pockets! (Fleming hesitates.) Now! (Grudgingly Fleming empties his pockets.)
Boy: I’ll just take that money.
Fleming: You took my money last week.
Boy: And I’ll take it again. Now what do we have here? Cigarettes at your age? Tut tut tut! And with three gold bands no less.
Fleming: Take them, just go away and leave me alone.
Boy: No, what else have you got there? Let me see!
Fleming: No, I- (The boy snatches a letter from Fleming’s hand.)
Boy: What’s this? “Tonight, wait till after eight.” And sealed with a lipsticked kiss! Who’s this from, then? (Fleming stays silent as the boy shakes him.)
Boy: I’ll find out anyway. Now, what do we have… a gun? You’ve got a gun? (He examines the powerful weapon more closely.) Oh, a water pistol.
Fleming: Now just go away and leave-
Boy: No chance! What’s this….? A hip flask? (He opens it up and drinks as Fleming looks on, then spits his mouthful on the ground.)
Boy: Ugh- it’s lemonade!
Fleming: What did you expect, vodka martini? I’m still only fourteen!
Boy: Get more money, Fleming, and I’ll see you next week- you better have it! (The bully leaves.)
Fleming: You’ll regret this. You’re going to regret this one day, Scaramanga.
1983. (The Kremlin. General Gogol sits in his office. The intercom buzzes.)
Gogol: Yes?
Rublevitch: (On intercom.) Your guests are here, Comrade General.
Gogol: Thank you, please show them in, Rublevitch… or is it Rubavitch?
Rublevitch: Yes, confusing isn’t it, Comrade General? (Pauses.) I will show them in now. (Two guards enter.)
1st Guard: Good morning, Comrade General Gogol …or is it Morzeny?
Gogol: Yes, confusing, isn’t it? Good morning to you both. Today is the regular inspection of the Kremlin Art Depository, and I would like you to accompany me.
2nd Guard: Of course, Comrade General, but this is merely a routine inspection. Surely there is no need for the head of the KGB to participate?
Gogol: Nevertheless, I think I should go along this time. I shall be accompanied by a guest.
(Later, at the Kremlin Art Depository. Gogol enters with the guards and another man.)
Gogol: Comrade Lenkin, greetings.
Lenkin: (Nervously.) Greetings, Comrade General.
Gogol: Of course you know Comrade Borchoi, the curator of the Hermitage. He just arrived from Leningrad. (Picks up a piece of jewellery.) The Romanov Star.
Borchoi: (Examining it.) The Romanov Star…. (He drops it to the floor and grinds it to dust under his heel.)
Gogol: Can you explain this, Lenkin?
Lenkin: Oops. Ah… er, tin shortages in the Soviet Union, Comrade?… er, the real one is on loan to General Koskov, who’s pawned it for a few days? ...er, Comrade Borchoi is wearing stripper heels?
Gogol: Enough! I have in mind the perfect punishment for you.
Lenkin: Comrade, please give me a second chance… I promise, no more boobs!
Gogol: Funny you should say that… alas, no.
Lenkin: You….you are going to have me shot?
Gogol: Worse than that. You shall be demoted to the rank of supervisor, at an oil pipeline in Bratislava!
Lenkin: No!
Gogol: ...though there may be some compensations.
1977. (Michael Billington’s place. Michael is entertaining a young lady.)
Young Lady: Oh, Michael. I cannot find the words.
Michael: Let me try to enlarge your vocabulary. (The telephone rings.)
Michael: Excuse me…
Young Lady: Michael!!!
Michael: I’ve been waiting for this.
Voice: (On phone.) Would you hold for Mr Cubby Broccoli, please?
Michael: Yes. Oh yes.
Cubby: (On phone.) Hello, Michael, how are you?
Michael: (As calm as he can be.) Fine, Mr Broccoli, what can I do for you?
Cubby: I’m hoping you’re free right away, we’re shooting our new Bond movie “The Spy Who Loved Me”.
Michael: (Trying to supress his excitement.) Yes. Yes, I’m free. (The young lady starts to object, but Michael "Ssh's" her.)
Cubby: Good. We’re wanting you to play a Russian agent, Sergei Barsov.
Michael: Ah… (Hides disappointment.) Yes, I can do that Mr Broccoli.
Cubby: Excellent, see you soon then. (Hangs up.) (Michael begins to pull on his trousers.)
Young Lady: But Michael, I need you.
Michael: So does Eon!
Cubby: Good. We’re wanting you to play a Russian agent, Sergei Barsov.
Michael: Ah… (Hides disappointment.) Yes, I can do that Mr Broccoli.
Cubby: Excellent, see you soon then.
Michael: I can be there in an hour.
Young Lady: But Michael, I need you. (She raises a glass of champagne)
Michael: (Smirking, making the best out of the situation) Better make that two!
{[] Thank you, C&D. Yes, I'm relaxed, re-educated and rehabilitated- and have eliminated all free radicals.
1973. New York. Bond and Strutter are in a car near the Fillet Of Soul, listening to a genuine Felix lighter.
Leiter: (Via lighter.) ...I already did. I knew you wouldn't pass up a chance to get away from where the "real" action is. (Felix hangs up, and Strutter drives off.)
Bond: So, you’re taking me straight to the airport, then.
Strutter: Damn right I am. You’ve been in New York only a couple of hours and you’ve been in a major traffic incident-
Bond: Hardly my fault, Strutter.
Strutter: ..tried it on with two women-
Bond: You’re exaggerating. Only one, the other was in a shop selling me a snake.
Strutter: One of our guys is dead, and two of Mr Big’s hoods are injured. Trouble seems to follow you around, Bond.
Bond: You might say that. Where will you be heading, Strutter?
Strutter: Down to New Orleans. Mr Big’s got another Fillet Of Soul there, I’ve to keep an eye on it.
Bond: Sounds like a fun assignment.
Strutter: Well, when I’m not doing that I hope to catch some of the local music, maybe even get to join in.
Bond: Join in?
Strutter: Yeah, I sing a bit.
Bond: Maybe I’d be able to hear you sometime.
Strutter: (Shrugs.) It’s your funeral.
Cubby: Right, so we’ve got our new James Bond- Roger Moore. And we’ve picked which Fleming novel to film next, “Live And Let Die”.Now, there’s a problem...
Harry: Problem? Let’s just go ahead and make it!
Tom Mankiewicz: Have you read the book, Harry?
Harry: No, what’s up?
Guy Hamilton: All the villains are black, all the good guys are white.
Harry: Oh, right…
Cubby: We have to be very careful with this.
Guy: Yes, you're right.
Cubby: James Bond, Solitaire, and Felix Leiter are the main good guys and they’re all white. Mr Big, Tee Hee, and Whisper are the main bad guys and they’re all black.
Tom: Well, Quarrel is in the book- he’s a good guy.
Cubby: But we killed him in “Dr No”.
Tom: Easy- this is Quarrel Jr.
Harry: Brilliant! But we need more.
Tom: I’m thinking of another black good guy, Let’s call him Strutter.
Cubby: That’s fine, so we have two black good guys.
Tom: Actually, I was thinking that Solitaire could be black.
Harry: No way, that won’t fly in certain states of America. We won’t get shown there.
Cubby: But we could make Bond’s first, umm, ‘love interest’ a black lady?
Tom: Great idea, Cubby! Perhaps just like in the novel, the exotic Ms GG Sumatra could perform an erotic dance entirely na…
Harry: (Jumping in.) I wish! Let’s approach Gloria Hendry, she’s foxy… I’ll bet she dances like Cleopatra….
Cubby: Foxy Cleopatra? That name’ll never work. Perhaps our female CIA agent Rosie Carver, would fit the bill a little better.
Guy: Then we need one white bad guy.
Tom: No, we need one foolish white guy who will stand out- how about a dumb, bigoted Sheriff, to show we have a ‘sensayuma’? He can be the butt of the film’s jokes, just to make sure the audience knows we’re being careful about this.
Harry: Anything else?
Tom: I have this nagging feeling that I’m going to forget to write someone important into the script…
Harry: Join the Queue, Tom…
Comments
1962. What will become Eon HQ.
Harry: Say Cubby, now that we have the rights, let’s make the film. First, we need to find a star. Cary Grant?
Cubby: He’ll only commit to one picture. And we’ve bought the rights to just about all of the books.
Harry: Patrick McGoohan?
Cubby: Seems he won’t be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed or numbered 007.
Harry: Hmmm. David Niven? Roger Moore?
Cubby: Can’t see that ever happening. And Roger? His hair’s brown, bit too light. Imagine a blond Bond, haha!
Harry: Over my dead body!
Cubby: Mine too! Maybe we ought to try that fella with the funny accent again? Sean Who-sis?
Harry: Connery? Yeah, perfect casting, I’m sure he’ll sign for a few pics, and he’ll be a pussycat when it comes to negotiating future fees, eh. (Pauses) Say Cubby, what did you think of the book?
Cubby: I loved it, Harry. You?
Harry: Nah, think there are some things we could change.
Cubby: Change? Like what?
Harry: That giant squid has got to go. There’s no way we can do that on the budget we have.
Cubby: Ok, you’re right there. We’ll have to think of something else to end the movie.
Harry: And the part where the girl comes out of the sea naked- NO WAY are we going to get away with that.
Cubby: Again, I give you that. We’ll just have to have her wear a bikini.
Harry: Now, we’re wanting to use James Bond’s friend Felix Leiter regularly but he isn’t in this book. I think he should go in.
Cubby: You’re right, Harry, in he goes.
Harry: And the character Miss Taro- I think she should have a much larger part in the film than the book, maybe try to seduce Bond into some kind of trap.
Cubby: Right again, Harry, that’s a great idea.
Harry: There should definitely be a car chase.
Cubby: Car chase, yes, I agree.
Harry: We should first meet James Bond in a casino, playing cards with some beautiful lady.
Cubby: Harry, what can I say, you’re right again.
Harry: And Dr No should be a monkey sitting on the villain’s shoulder.
Cubby: What????
L’homme d’AA: Hello, monsieur.
James: Hello, there.
AA: Ah, you are English!
James: It’s close enough. Thank you for attending.
AA: So, you have, how you say, telephoned us about your car.
James: Yes, it appears that it won’t start.
AA: And what a beautiful car you have, sir. An Aston Martin- DB4, I think?
James: DB5.
AA: So! If you would just pop the bonnet open, I shall take a look.
(James opens the bonnet.)
AA: Hmm, it would seem very crowded under here, n’est pas?
James: Er, I’ve had some optional extras installed.
AA: I do not recognize this machinery here-
James: Please, don’t touch that! It’s, ah, an experimental model.
AA: Oh, I see. And this here?
James: It’s a prototype.... yes… a prototype.
AA: If you would be kind enough to get in and start the engine, s’il vous plait.
James: One moment…. There. (Nothing happens.)
AA: Hm, you appear to be right.
James: (Aside.) ...Thank you…
AA: Please, just give me a few minutes.
(James wanders away and lights a Morlands cigarette. After a few moments-)
AA: Ah, I think I have found what is wrong! (Adjusts a few wires.) Et voila!
(He climbs into the car.)
AA: Now, let me just try her in gear. Hmm, what is this?
James: (Quickly.) Whatever you do, don’t…. Ah. Oh, well....
Alas, not a DB5 C&D, just a Mondeo.
M is speaking with Q on her intercom, as Miranda Frost, the beautiful blonde cryptographer, enters. M waves her a seat as she finishes up her conversation.
M: ... Well, he no longer drives a Lotus. (She snaps the intercom to the off position, and smiles up at her guest). So: tell me what you know about him.
(Miranda settles herself, and addresses M thoughtfully).
Miranda: He's wild one, as I discovered today. He'll light fuses on any explosive situation and be a danger to himself and others. Kill first, ask questions later. He's a blunt instrument, whose primary method is to provoke and confront.
M: Go on.
Miranda: A man nobody can get close to. A womaniser.
M: Well, you're going to be seeing a lot more of him in Iceland.
Miranda: Iceland?
M: Yes. Graves has a huge diamond mine there. You must know this, you've been working with the man for three months. So I'm sending you and Bond there.
Miranda: Bond? I thought you said.... I thought you were talking about POTUS...
I must admit, I wondered where you were going with that one till the last word. Well played!
Great twist at the end!
Producer: Right then, John, so we’re all here to record this tune which has been completely written by Monty Norman.
John Barry: That’s right, this tune was entirely written by Monty Norman for a movie called “Dr No”.
Producer: Oh right, I’ve read the book. So, this is the first James Bond film and Monty Norman has totally written this tune for it.
JB: Yes, it’s a theme for James Bond and was wholly written by Monty Norman.
Producer: So, how do you hear the musical arrangement for this tune, which was unquestionably written by Monty Norman?
JB: Well, I thought the first part could be on guitar and then we bring in the brass for this tune which was absolutely written by Monty Norman.
Producer: Then I guess that Vic Flick will be playing guitar on this tune, which was categorically written by Monty Norman?
JB: Of course, as usual. Vic, please have a look at the music for this tune which was definitely written by Monty Norman.
Vic Flick: Sure, John. (Examines the music score, picks out a few notes on his guitar.) Hey, this is quite like your tunes “Beat Girl” or “Bees Knees”.
JB: No, Vic, that must be a coincidence. This tune was unqualifiedly written by Monty Norman.
Vic: But-
JB: (Aside.) Later, Vic, later. (Aloud.) Ready, guys, let’s go for a take on my- damn, I mean this tune which was certainly written by Monty Norman. Let’s get ready- and a 1, 2, 3, 4….
(The producer, with whom I corresponded before his passing, was called John Burgess but I left him anonymous here to avoid confusion with John Barry during this completely imaginary conversation about the recording of a tune that was undeniably written by Monty Norman. Absolutely.)
(The telephone rings.)
Moe: Moe's Tavern.
Voice: Is Molly there?
Moe: Who?
Voice: Molly. Second name Warmflash.
Moe: I dunno, I'll see. Hey guys, I'm looking for a Molly, Molly Warmflash.
(Homer, Barney and company begin to laugh.)
Moe: I want a Warmflash!
(The laughter gets louder as Moe realizes.)
Moe: Listen you piece of crap. when I get holda you I'm gonna bounce you like a ball!
(In a home not far away, two children laugh uproariously as they put the phone down.)
Anne: Now, behave yourself tonight, Ian.
Ian: What? I always behave myself at these parties.
Anne: Try not to drink too much.
Ian: I’m sorry, I don’t understand.
Anne: I said, try not-
Ian: Oh, I heard you, I just don’t understand the concept.
Anne: Well, just don’t do what you did last time.
Ian: Last time? What do you mean?
Anne: When you had a bit too much and patted the wife of the Home Secretary on her-
(The door opens.)
Hostess: Anne, Ian, how lovely to see you!
Anne: You too! (They blow air kisses.)
Hostess: Do come in, do come in.
(The Flemings enter.)
Anne: How lovely, you must introduce me to some of your guests.
Hostess: Of course, of course. Ian, the bar’s over there. (She’s met him before.)
Ian: Thank you.
(He wanders over to the drinks, where he serves himself his usual. Two chinless wonders are there.)
1st Man: Hello, you’ll be Anne’s husband then?
Ian: That’s right, the name’s-
2nd Man: (Interrupting.) The one who writes those dreadful books!
Ian: Dreadful?
2nd Man: I read your last one- some rich chap called Drax and a missile called Moonraker. Total nonsense.
Ian: Well, if-
1st Man: Oh yes, I read one once. Or started to, anyway. Something about a casino. Couldn’t finish it.
2nd Man: They’re all about the same character, now what was his name…?
Fleming: Bond. (Lights cigarette.) James Bond.
1st Man: That’s right. What’s the next one going to be about?
Ian: Diamond smuggling. Starts in Africa, moves to Las Vegas.
2nd Man: Sounds terrible! Oh by the way, I’m Mr Kidd. And this is Mr Wint.
Fleming: (Writing that down in a small notebook.) I see. Perhaps you might find my next book a bit more interesting.
(Ian walks away, drink in hand. He is approached by the hostess.)
Hostess: Ian, come with me. there’s a most interesting man you simply have to meet.
(She introduces them.)
Hostess: Erno, this is Ian. Ian, this is Erno.
Erno: Hello, I believe you’re Anne’s husband?
Ian: Yes, that’s right.
Erno: Write books, I’m told.
Ian: Yes, that’s true. What do you do?
Erno: I’m an architect myself.
Ian: How interesting.
Erno: It most certainly is. Man has climbed Mount Everest, gone to the bottom of the ocean. He has fired rockets to the moon. Split the atom. Achieved miracles in every field of human endeavour… except architecture! But I shall see to that!
Ian: Well, I-
Erno: Here, take my card. You can call me and if I have the time, perhaps I can design a building for you. A building that will live longer than any of your terrible books! I shall be famous!
Ian: (Reading the card.) Oh I have no doubt that you shall be very famous, Mr Goldfinger.
(I've played with the facts just a bit... well, quite a lot actually)
How could you! No-one else ever does that.....
Told you I wasn't aiming for accuracy!
Similarly, the real Goldfinger complained when the novel was published, but settled for a few free copies of the book and the "All characters are fictional etc" line.
There's much more about this in Silhouette Man's Bondologist Blog, if anyone is interested.
Boy: Stop right there, Fleming.
Fleming: What do you want?
Boy: Oh, you know what I want. Turn out your pockets! (Fleming hesitates.) Now!
(Grudgingly Fleming empties his pockets.)
Boy: I’ll just take that money.
Fleming: You took my money last week.
Boy: And I’ll take it again. Now what do we have here? Cigarettes at your age? Tut tut tut! And with three gold bands no less.
Fleming: Take them, just go away and leave me alone.
Boy: No, what else have you got there? Let me see!
Fleming: No, I-
(The boy snatches a letter from Fleming’s hand.)
Boy: What’s this? “Tonight, wait till after eight.” And sealed with a lipsticked kiss! Who’s this from, then?
(Fleming stays silent as the boy shakes him.)
Boy: I’ll find out anyway. Now, what do we have… a gun? You’ve got a gun? (He examines the powerful weapon more closely.) Oh, a water pistol.
Fleming: Now just go away and leave-
Boy: No chance! What’s this….? A hip flask?
(He opens it up and drinks as Fleming looks on, then spits his mouthful on the ground.)
Boy: Ugh- it’s lemonade!
Fleming: What did you expect, vodka martini? I’m still only fourteen!
Boy: Get more money, Fleming, and I’ll see you next week- you better have it!
(The bully leaves.)
Fleming: You’ll regret this. You’re going to regret this one day, Scaramanga.
1983. (The Kremlin. General Gogol sits in his office. The intercom buzzes.)
Gogol: Yes?
Rublevitch: (On intercom.) Your guests are here, Comrade General.
Gogol: Thank you, please show them in, Rublevitch… or is it Rubavitch?
Rublevitch: Yes, confusing isn’t it, Comrade General? (Pauses.) I will show them in now.
(Two guards enter.)
1st Guard: Good morning, Comrade General Gogol …or is it Morzeny?
Gogol: Yes, confusing, isn’t it? Good morning to you both. Today is the regular inspection of the Kremlin Art Depository, and I would like you to accompany me.
2nd Guard: Of course, Comrade General, but this is merely a routine inspection. Surely there is no need for the head of the KGB to participate?
Gogol: Nevertheless, I think I should go along this time. I shall be accompanied by a guest.
(Later, at the Kremlin Art Depository. Gogol enters with the guards and another man.)
Gogol: Comrade Lenkin, greetings.
Lenkin: (Nervously.) Greetings, Comrade General.
Gogol: Of course you know Comrade Borchoi, the curator of the Hermitage. He just arrived from Leningrad. (Picks up a piece of jewellery.) The Romanov Star.
Borchoi: (Examining it.) The Romanov Star….
(He drops it to the floor and grinds it to dust under his heel.)
Gogol: Can you explain this, Lenkin?
Lenkin: Oops. Ah… er, tin shortages in the Soviet Union, Comrade?… er, the real one is on loan to General Koskov, who’s pawned it for a few days? ...er, Comrade Borchoi is wearing stripper heels?
Gogol: Enough! I have in mind the perfect punishment for you.
Lenkin: Comrade, please give me a second chance… I promise, no more boobs!
Gogol: Funny you should say that… alas, no.
Lenkin: You….you are going to have me shot?
Gogol: Worse than that. You shall be demoted to the rank of supervisor, at an oil pipeline in Bratislava!
Lenkin: No!
Gogol: ...though there may be some compensations.
Thank you, CHB!
Young Lady: Oh, Michael. I cannot find the words.
Michael: Let me try to enlarge your vocabulary.
(The telephone rings.)
Michael: Excuse me…
Young Lady: Michael!!!
Michael: I’ve been waiting for this.
Voice: (On phone.) Would you hold for Mr Cubby Broccoli, please?
Michael: Yes. Oh yes.
Cubby: (On phone.) Hello, Michael, how are you?
Michael: (As calm as he can be.) Fine, Mr Broccoli, what can I do for you?
Cubby: I’m hoping you’re free right away, we’re shooting our new Bond movie “The Spy Who Loved Me”.
Michael: (Trying to supress his excitement.) Yes. Yes, I’m free.
(The young lady starts to object, but Michael "Ssh's" her.)
Cubby: Good. We’re wanting you to play a Russian agent, Sergei Barsov.
Michael: Ah… (Hides disappointment.) Yes, I can do that Mr Broccoli.
Cubby: Excellent, see you soon then. (Hangs up.)
(Michael begins to pull on his trousers.)
Young Lady: But Michael, I need you.
Michael: So does Eon!
If it's okay, here's how I would have ended it.
Cubby: Good. We’re wanting you to play a Russian agent, Sergei Barsov.
Michael: Ah… (Hides disappointment.) Yes, I can do that Mr Broccoli.
Cubby: Excellent, see you soon then.
Michael: I can be there in an hour.
Young Lady: But Michael, I need you. (She raises a glass of champagne)
Michael: (Smirking, making the best out of the situation) Better make that two!
Thank you, WD!
You've been on holibobs I understand? Relaxing, I hope? {[]
1973. New York. Bond and Strutter are in a car near the Fillet Of Soul, listening to a genuine Felix lighter.
Leiter: (Via lighter.) ...I already did. I knew you wouldn't pass up a chance to get away from where the "real" action is.
(Felix hangs up, and Strutter drives off.)
Bond: So, you’re taking me straight to the airport, then.
Strutter: Damn right I am. You’ve been in New York only a couple of hours and you’ve been in a major traffic incident-
Bond: Hardly my fault, Strutter.
Strutter: ..tried it on with two women-
Bond: You’re exaggerating. Only one, the other was in a shop selling me a snake.
Strutter: One of our guys is dead, and two of Mr Big’s hoods are injured. Trouble seems to follow you around, Bond.
Bond: You might say that. Where will you be heading, Strutter?
Strutter: Down to New Orleans. Mr Big’s got another Fillet Of Soul there, I’ve to keep an eye on it.
Bond: Sounds like a fun assignment.
Strutter: Well, when I’m not doing that I hope to catch some of the local music, maybe even get to join in.
Bond: Join in?
Strutter: Yeah, I sing a bit.
Bond: Maybe I’d be able to hear you sometime.
Strutter: (Shrugs.) It’s your funeral.
1973. Eon HQ, hidden behind a charity in Paris.
Cubby: Right, so we’ve got our new James Bond- Roger Moore. And we’ve picked which Fleming novel to film next, “Live And Let Die”.Now, there’s a problem...
Harry: Problem? Let’s just go ahead and make it!
Tom Mankiewicz: Have you read the book, Harry?
Harry: No, what’s up?
Guy Hamilton: All the villains are black, all the good guys are white.
Harry: Oh, right…
Cubby: We have to be very careful with this.
Guy: Yes, you're right.
Cubby: James Bond, Solitaire, and Felix Leiter are the main good guys and they’re all white. Mr Big, Tee Hee, and Whisper are the main bad guys and they’re all black.
Tom: Well, Quarrel is in the book- he’s a good guy.
Cubby: But we killed him in “Dr No”.
Tom: Easy- this is Quarrel Jr.
Harry: Brilliant! But we need more.
Tom: I’m thinking of another black good guy, Let’s call him Strutter.
Cubby: That’s fine, so we have two black good guys.
Tom: Actually, I was thinking that Solitaire could be black.
Harry: No way, that won’t fly in certain states of America. We won’t get shown there.
Cubby: But we could make Bond’s first, umm, ‘love interest’ a black lady?
Tom: Great idea, Cubby! Perhaps just like in the novel, the exotic Ms GG Sumatra could perform an erotic dance entirely na…
Harry: (Jumping in.) I wish! Let’s approach Gloria Hendry, she’s foxy… I’ll bet she dances like Cleopatra….
Cubby: Foxy Cleopatra? That name’ll never work. Perhaps our female CIA agent Rosie Carver, would fit the bill a little better.
Guy: Then we need one white bad guy.
Tom: No, we need one foolish white guy who will stand out- how about a dumb, bigoted Sheriff, to show we have a ‘sensayuma’? He can be the butt of the film’s jokes, just to make sure the audience knows we’re being careful about this.
Harry: Anything else?
Tom: I have this nagging feeling that I’m going to forget to write someone important into the script…
Harry: Join the Queue, Tom…