Publisher: Thanks for coming in, Ian. Fancy a drink?
Fleming: I believe you know the answer to that.
Publisher: Now, let me see, four measures of Gordon’s gin-
Fleming: Only three, dear boy, do you think I’m an alcoholic?
Publisher: Of course not! I just, er, read your books a lot- it’s my job! And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.
Fleming: Oh? You didn’t like it?
Publisher: Oh no, not that- if anything it’s better than your first one. Lots of lovely scenes and characters! I really liked the bit where Bond finds what’s left of Felix after he got fed to a shark- how was it you phrased it?
Fleming: “He disagreed with something that ate him”.
Publisher: Yes, that’s the one! And the part where the villain keelhauls James and the lady behind his yacht, scraping them over coral. Both of those scenes were fantastic- if you ever get this book made into a film I’d look forward to seeing them onscreen.
Fleming: If they included them in a film version.
Publisher: What!? They’d be crazy to make a film of this book and not include those scenes!
Fleming: So, what’s the problem then?
Publisher: Ah, it’s this chapter here, Chapter Five.
Fleming: Well, I worked hard on that one to get the dialogue the way I wanted it.
Publisher: Yes, the dialogue… I’ll get back to that later but it’s the title of the chapter that I think we may have some problems with.
Fleming: The title? Well, Collins didn’t have any problem with the title of Agatha Christie’s book “Ten Little-
Publisher: They did, Ian, they most certainly did. In the USA it had to be changed to “And Then There Were None”. And make some changes to the text, as well.
Fleming: Oh, I see.
Publisher: So, we’re going to change the name of that chapter for the States. Got any idea?
Fleming: I don’t care much- how about “Seventh Avenue”?
Publisher: That would do just fine. We’ll have to edit the dialogue a bit, too.
Fleming: (Glumly.) As you wish. I think I might set my next book totally in England- avoid these sort of problems.
Today we were filming in the submarine set. I had lines with lots of sciency stuff and I needed many takes. Pierce is such a gentleman! He made large posters with my lines written on them with lots of big letters, lines under hard words and these letters: !!!!!!
It was so helpful. I only needed a dozen or perhaps twelve takes when he was holding up the posters.
I had a discussion with the director about my costume. I think a Bond girl should wear a glamorous dress, but Michael said I had to wear a white T-shirt in the flooding set because it was vital to the plot. I wasn't sure, but I called Charlie in the US and he said the T-shirt was a great idea! He was very enthusiastic about it.
After lunch I had to do a scene of me almost drowning in the sub. Again Pierce was super supportive! Even though he wasn't in the scene he was standing behind the camera smiling sweetly to me all the time!
I was thinking of doing likewise for a certain other actress (easy to figure out who), but thought it would be just the same thing again. I have another idea which I'll work on later.
M: I see the good doctor has cleared you. Notes you have exceptional stamina.
Moneypenny: I'm sure she was touched by his dedication to the job in hand. (There is an exchange of glances among Moneypenny, Bond, and Dr Molly Warmflash before Moneypenny exits hotly pursued by Molly.)
(In the corridor outside.)
Molly: And just what exactly did you mean by that?
Moneypenny: (Innocent as a new born babe.) Why, whatever can you mean, Molly?
Molly: “I'm sure she was touched by his dedication to the job in hand.” Oh yes???
Moneypenny: Well, everyone knows that his dedication when he’s on the job is most commendable.
Molly: And everyone knows that you’ve always had your eye on him.
Moneypenny: James and I have been just good friends for a few years.
Molly: Years? More like decades!
Moneypenny: Cheeky cow!
Molly: Oh yes, every time he goes in or out of M’s office there you are- inviting him back to your place for angel cake while listening to Barry Manilow, asking for engagement rings, to be taken to dinner, dressing up to impress him… the list is endless!
Moneypenny: (Verge of tears.) And I thought I was being so subtle!
Molly: You’re just jealous that I got my hands on his PPK before you did! (Moneypenny runs off in tears.)
Publisher: Ah there you are Ian, do come in.
Fleming: Good morning. I don’t suppose there’s any chance of-
Publisher: A drink? Ready and waiting for you, here you go.
Fleming: Thank you... (Sips.) No, no, not stirred!
Publisher: Oh sorry, I’ll make you another one.
Fleming: Anyway, I take it you’ve read my new manuscript?
Publisher: Oh yes, of course. Terrific stuff, Ian, I don’t know how you do it.
Fleming: That’s very kind of you to say so.
Publisher: There’s just one or two little things…
Fleming: Oh yes?
Publisher: Now, I liked the whole opening bit- the girl in her underwear in Miami, watching the card game through binoculars. And later on she dies covered in gold paint! Fantastic!
Fleming: Yes…?
Publisher: And the golf game was great- maybe it could be cut down by a chapter or two?
Fleming: (Firmly.) No, I like golf.
Publisher: Well, all right. I loved the Aston Martin car with the tricks it can do.
Fleming: That one I’m particularly proud of. You didn’t miss the Bentley?
Publisher: It's had its day, I'm afraid. I think you’re on to something with the Aston Martin! Maybe James could drive it in other stories?
Fleming: Hmmm...
Publisher: Well, I’ll leave that one with you. The Korean manservant, what was his name, Random Task?
Fleming: Oddjob.
Publisher: Yes, him. Very scary. I liked the bowler hat he throws to kill people. Don’t suppose you thought about him throwing a shoe as well?
Fleming: A shoe? Who throws a shoe?
Publisher: I suppose you’re right. Now, you’ve got Pussy Galore.
Fleming: I’ve always got pussy galore!
Publisher: No, her name is Pussy Galore.
Fleming: (Sighs.) I must be dreaming…
Publisher: Can’t you change that, say, to Kitty Galore?
Fleming: No, I like Pussy.
Publisher: I’d spotted that. We might have some troubles with the censor, I’m thinking. For their benefit, Ian, let's make him as happy as possible. I suggest you change it into something more suitable.
Fleming: Pussy stays.
Publisher: (Reluctantly.) On your own head be it.
Fleming: And the ending at Fort Knox? $15 billion!
Publisher: Yes, well... I've worked out a few statistics of my own. $15 billion in gold bullion weighs 10,500 tons. 60 men would take 12 days to load it onto 200 trucks. At the most, Goldfinger will have two hours before the army, navy, air force, and marines move in and make him put it back.
Fleming: Do you expect the readers to count?
Publisher: No, Mr Fleming, I expect them to buy!
M: I see the good doctor has cleared you. Notes you have exceptional stamina.
Moneypenny: I'm sure she was touched by his dedication to the job in hand. (There is an exchange of glances among Moneypenny, Bond, and Dr Molly Warmflash before Moneypenny exits hotly pursued by Molly.)
(In the corridor outside.)
Molly: And just what exactly did you mean by that?
Moneypenny: (Innocent as a new born babe.) Why, whatever can you mean, Molly?
Molly: “I'm sure she was touched by his dedication to the job in hand.” Oh yes???
Moneypenny: Well, everyone knows that his dedication when he’s on the job is most commendable.
Molly: And everyone knows that you’ve always had your eye on him.
Moneypenny: James and I have been just good friends for a few years.
Molly: Years? More like decades!
Moneypenny: Cheeky cow!
Molly: Oh yes, every time he goes in or out of M’s office there you are- inviting him back to your place for angel cake while listening to Barry Manilow, asking for engagement rings, to be taken to dinner, dressing up to impress him… the list is endless!
Moneypenny: (Verge of tears.) And I thought I was being so subtle!
Molly: You’re just jealous that I got my hands on his PPK before you did! (Moneypenny runs off in tears.)
HARRY SALTZMAN: May I present James Bond, ma'am...
GEORGE LAZENBY: G'day mate...
THE QUEEN: So lovely to meet you again Mr Connery, I almost didn't recognise you with the long hair and beard...
PRINCE PHILIP: You're that Australian fellow, aren't you? We'll have Bonds from all over the bally Commonwealth, eh? Where are you going to find the next James Bond, India?
HARRY SALTZMAN: England, your highness...
THE QUEEN: How fascinating! Will you be making another James Bond film?
GEORGE LAZENBY: Nah, mate. James Bond's old hat now, he's dead as a dingo...
HARRY SALTZMAN: (firmly) Oh no he isn't...
GEORGE LAZENBY: You start an argument and I'll finish it, mate. You saw what I did to that stuntman's nose...
THE QUEEN: How frightfully interesting!
Grunther: It is time for my trip to the village, Fräulein.
Bunt: Of course. Now, write this down Grunther, so you do not forget.
Grunther: Jawohl, Fräulein Bunt.
Bunt: Two kilos of chicken- nein, make that three.
Grunther: (Writing.) Three kilos of chicken...
Bunt: Two kilos of potatoes.
Grunther: Ja…
Bunt: Two kilos of bananas.
Grunther: Ja..
Bunt: One jar of beauty cream.
Grunther: Beauty cream? But the girls are so beautiful already!
Bunt: Ja- it is for, er, an experiment...
Grunther: Ok.
Bunt: Two kilos of rice.
Grunther: Ja, two kilos of rice...
Bunt: Hmm, we have this man Sir Hilary Bray arriving tomorrow. He is Scottish- better buy a bottle of whisky. No, better make that two.
Grunther: Ja, will that be all?
Blofeld: (Off.) Fräulein Bunt!
Bunt: Ja, Herr Direktor?
Blofeld: (Off.) Hier! (Bunt goes off, leaving Grunther standing patiently. She returns.)
Bunt: And fourteen tins of cat food.
Largo: Well, my friends, it would seem as if our plans are proceeding well. Would anyone care for a drink?
Fiona: I will have only a soda.
Largo: Mr Janni?
Janni: Rum Collins, please.
Largo: Mr Quist?
Quist: Yes, Rum Collins please.
Largo: Mr Vargas? (Vargas twists his lip and looks away.)
Largo: I see. Well, who wants a cigarette then?
Fiona: I will have one.
Janni: Me too.
Quist: And me.
Largo: Vargas? (Vargas stares straight ahead.)
Largo: Ok… Perhaps a game then? Who wants to play a game?
Fiona: I do not think so.
Janni: Count me out.
Quist: Not me.
Vargas: Yes! I’d love to play charades!
Largo: Well, it seems we have answered one question, anyway.
1974, a small island off Phang Nga Bay. A seaplane pulls up.
Nick Nack: Hey boss! Ahem, Monsieur Scaramanga. This looks a perfect spot!
Scaramanga: Nick Nack, I think you may be right.
Nick Nack: Monsieur, is it big enough for what we need?
Scaramanga: It's not exactly a hollowed out volcano, is it? The island we need would have to be massive to harvest solar energy efficiently. But I shall attempt to make it look as modest as possible to the observer. Except for the big bubbling circular things.
Nick Nack: Will it be expensive, Monsieur?
Scaramanga: Yes, Nick Nack, very. But I will ensure we will only have one guard manning it at all times.
Nick Nack: This guard Monsieur. He must be exceptionally tough, resilient and most of all - extremely trustworthy.
Scaramanga: His record is impeccable Nick Nack. Except of course for his one tiny Achilles heel - scantily-clad Swedish blondes. Fortunately there's absolutely no chance of one of those turning up on this island.
Nick Nack: You seem to have thought of everything Monsieur!
Scaramanga: Just to make sure Nick Nack, I will build the one sure-fire defensive structure which is impenetrable!
Nick Nack: A hollowed-out volcano with automated machine guns and lasers?
Scaramanga: A fun house.
Nick Nack (under his breath): You're living in a fantasy island, Monsieur.
Publisher: Ah come in Ian, come in. Filthy weather out there.
Fleming: It is indeed. You wouldn’t have a little something to keep out the cold?
Publisher: No, I have a big something to keep out the cold. Here you go- three measures of Gordons, one of vodka-
Fleming: Oh, I think I can guess what’s in it. Now, what can I do for you?
Publisher: Loved your new manuscript! It may be your best yet!
Fleming: Why, thank you.
Publisher: I love that it’s in Jamaica, just like that other one...er… “Die And Live..”?
Fleming: “Live And Let Die”.
Publisher: Yes, that’s it! Great atmosphere!
Fleming: Well, I wrote the book in Jamaica you know.
Publisher: The characters: the Three Blind Mice, Quarrel, Pussy Feeler-
Fleming: That’s “Pus-Feller”.
Publisher: Oh. That makes quite a difference, I’ll have to read it again.
Fleming: Be my guest.
Publisher: And the midnight sail to Crab Key- fantastic. Now, when Bond wakes up the next morning and sees the girl with the shells on the beach…
Fleming: Honey Rider- one of my favourite parts, I enjoyed writing that.
Publisher: Oh, I’m sure. I was just wondering, though, does she have to be naked?
Fleming: I don’t see what you’re getting at.
Publisher: Well, I mean, it’s pretty graphic, isn’t it? Naked girl on the beach?
Fleming: I like that bit!
Publisher: Oh no doubt, but couldn’t she be wearing just a little? I mean, a white bikini for example?
Fleming: That would spoil the scene.
Publisher: Have it your way. Now, later when they meet the dragon, Quarrel and Honey are pretty convinced that it’s a real dragon- I thought it was obvious that it wasn’t. Bond figures it out quickly enough.
Fleming: You’ll just have to accept that, I’m afraid.
Publisher: Just like we’ll have to accept that the villain has no hands, is an ex-Tong, and has an undersea glass wall in his dining room?
Fleming: But of course.
Publisher: No, no, no!
Fleming: Hmmm…. Have you been talking to my friend Noel Coward?
Publisher: Hello, Ian, didn’t expect to see you again so soon!
Fleming: Well, I thought I’d give you a little surprise.
Publisher: You certainly have- no sooner have we put out “You Only Live Twice” than you’re back here again! Would you like one of your special drinks?
Fleming: No, but I think you might after you read this. (Produces manuscript.)
Publisher: Another manuscript? That was quick! Does this one explain what happens to Bond after he goes off to visit Vladivostok with no memory?
Fleming: No….
Publisher: Perhaps it tells us how M and everyone are getting on without him?
Fleming: No….
Publisher: Well, what IS it about then?
Fleming: You remember that you told me you liked the cars I wrote about? Especially the Aston Martin?
Publisher: Oh yes, loved that car! The little tricks it could do!
Fleming: Well, I’ve topped that. This car can fly!
Publisher: Did you say “fly”?
Fleming: Oh yes, that’s perfectly feasible. As a matter of fact they’re working on one now.
Publisher: I suppose it can become invisible, too?
Fleming: Now, that would be going a step too far. We’d never hear the end of it! People would overlook everything else and just talk about the invisible car.
Publisher: I suppose so. Does it turn into a hovercraft as well?
Fleming: Well, as a matter of fact....
Publisher: Don't tell me any more.
Fleming: And you’ve always enjoyed the names I give my female characters, haven’t you?
Publisher: When I can get them past the censor, yes.
Fleming: Well, here’s one for you- Truly Scrumptious!
Publisher: You are pulling my leg, Ian.
Fleming: Not at all. She’s the daughter of Lord Scrumptious.
Publisher: And how does Bond meet her?
Fleming: Bond?
Publisher: Yes- Bond, James Bond, the guy you write books about.
Fleming: Oh, didn’t I mention that? He’s not in this. It’s for children.
Publisher: Children.
Fleming: Yes, children.
Publisher: Well, Ian, it looks like you were quite right.
Fleming: Quite right? About what?
Publisher: About me needing one of your drinks. Now, three measures of Gordons, one of vodka...
(Before anyone comments, I'm perfectly well aware that this is not an accurate version of events)
Speaking as the protagonist of said children's book, I must point out Truly Scrumptious was not a character in Fleming's book, but was a new character invented for the film in which I was a widower.
In the book I was still married to Mrs Mimsie Pott. Obviously something traumatic happened in the intervening four years.
(does being corrected by a fictional character count as an imaginary conversation?)
1987. (Tangier. General Pushkin removes sachets of fake blood.)
Rubavitch: But, Leonid, you’re, you’re not-
Pushkin: I’m fine, my darling, it’s all part of a grand-
Rubavitch: You BASTARD!!! (Slaps Pushkin so hard his head rocks.) You made me think you were dead!
Pushkin: Yes, I know, I’m sorry-
Rubavitch: Sorry? (Kicks him on the shin.) I’ll show you what sorry is!
Pushkin: (Hopping on one leg.) But my love I can explain-
Rubavitch: Explain??? (Kicks him on the other shin.) You had better explain, Leonid Pushkin, and fast!
Pushkin: (Rolling about on the floor.) You see, it’s because Georgi Koskov-
Rubavitch: Koskov? Don’t talk to me about Georgi Koskov! All his fault, is it? That’s so like you, always blaming someone else.
Pushkin: (Getting back to his feet.) No, really, Georgi and James Bond-
Rubavitch: James Bond??? (Slaps him to the floor again.) The one that was in my room last night? The one that ripped my clothes off while you did nothing about it?
Pushkin: (Deciding it’s safer on the floor.) Now, my love, I think you’re being just a little unfair there- he did have a gun pointed at me after all.
Rubavitch: Ha! I’d be surprised if he could shoot straight, with all those tears in his eyes like he was weeping!
Publisher: Ah, good morning Ian, thanks for coming in again.
Fleming: But of course, old chap.
Publisher: I suppose you'd like a drink?
Fleming: I'd like a cup of tea please.
Publisher: A cup of - are you feeling alright?
Fleming: Just kidding. Three measures of Gordon's, one of-
Publisher: Very droll, Ian. Umm, I'd like to have a chat with you about this new manuscript of yours - the sixth I believe.
Fleming: Ah, No.
Publisher: No? Is it the seventh? Have I missed one?
Fleming: No, it's No. Dr No.
Publisher: Ah, I see. You've abandoned your previous titles then - The Wound Man? And what about Commander Jamaica?
Fleming: The first sounds like my trip to Chelsea Royal Infirmary that time Ann threw a dinner plate at me. And the second sounds like the bottle of rum I drank beforehand.
Publisher: Ah. And this one has a little bit more wildlife than usual: roseate spoonbills, centipedes, crabs, spiders and even a giant squid.
Fleming: Well my office is opposite Goldman Sachs.
Publisher: And the dragon?
Fleming: My nickname for Ann when I got home from the infirmary.
Publisher: Hmm. I like Bond's ally on this mission, Quarrel. Where did you get his name from?
Fleming: The conversation I had with Ann when I got home and called her by her new nickname. Just before she stormed out.
Publisher: Jamaica?
Fleming: No, she went of her own accord. Now how about a quick one at El Vino's before we lunch at Rules?
Comments
Publisher: Thanks for coming in, Ian. Fancy a drink?
Fleming: I believe you know the answer to that.
Publisher: Now, let me see, four measures of Gordon’s gin-
Fleming: Only three, dear boy, do you think I’m an alcoholic?
Publisher: Of course not! I just, er, read your books a lot- it’s my job! And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.
Fleming: Oh? You didn’t like it?
Publisher: Oh no, not that- if anything it’s better than your first one. Lots of lovely scenes and characters! I really liked the bit where Bond finds what’s left of Felix after he got fed to a shark- how was it you phrased it?
Fleming: “He disagreed with something that ate him”.
Publisher: Yes, that’s the one! And the part where the villain keelhauls James and the lady behind his yacht, scraping them over coral. Both of those scenes were fantastic- if you ever get this book made into a film I’d look forward to seeing them onscreen.
Fleming: If they included them in a film version.
Publisher: What!? They’d be crazy to make a film of this book and not include those scenes!
Fleming: So, what’s the problem then?
Publisher: Ah, it’s this chapter here, Chapter Five.
Fleming: Well, I worked hard on that one to get the dialogue the way I wanted it.
Publisher: Yes, the dialogue… I’ll get back to that later but it’s the title of the chapter that I think we may have some problems with.
Fleming: The title? Well, Collins didn’t have any problem with the title of Agatha Christie’s book “Ten Little-
Publisher: They did, Ian, they most certainly did. In the USA it had to be changed to “And Then There Were None”. And make some changes to the text, as well.
Fleming: Oh, I see.
Publisher: So, we’re going to change the name of that chapter for the States. Got any idea?
Fleming: I don’t care much- how about “Seventh Avenue”?
Publisher: That would do just fine. We’ll have to edit the dialogue a bit, too.
Fleming: (Glumly.) As you wish. I think I might set my next book totally in England- avoid these sort of problems.
Today we were filming in the submarine set. I had lines with lots of sciency stuff and I needed many takes. Pierce is such a gentleman! He made large posters with my lines written on them with lots of big letters, lines under hard words and these letters: !!!!!!
It was so helpful. I only needed a dozen or perhaps twelve takes when he was holding up the posters.
I had a discussion with the director about my costume. I think a Bond girl should wear a glamorous dress, but Michael said I had to wear a white T-shirt in the flooding set because it was vital to the plot. I wasn't sure, but I called Charlie in the US and he said the T-shirt was a great idea! He was very enthusiastic about it.
After lunch I had to do a scene of me almost drowning in the sub. Again Pierce was super supportive! Even though he wasn't in the scene he was standing behind the camera smiling sweetly to me all the time!
I was thinking of doing likewise for a certain other actress (easy to figure out who), but thought it would be just the same thing again. I have another idea which I'll work on later.
M: I see the good doctor has cleared you. Notes you have exceptional stamina.
Moneypenny: I'm sure she was touched by his dedication to the job in hand.
(There is an exchange of glances among Moneypenny, Bond, and Dr Molly Warmflash before Moneypenny exits hotly pursued by Molly.)
(In the corridor outside.)
Molly: And just what exactly did you mean by that?
Moneypenny: (Innocent as a new born babe.) Why, whatever can you mean, Molly?
Molly: “I'm sure she was touched by his dedication to the job in hand.” Oh yes???
Moneypenny: Well, everyone knows that his dedication when he’s on the job is most commendable.
Molly: And everyone knows that you’ve always had your eye on him.
Moneypenny: James and I have been just good friends for a few years.
Molly: Years? More like decades!
Moneypenny: Cheeky cow!
Molly: Oh yes, every time he goes in or out of M’s office there you are- inviting him back to your place for angel cake while listening to Barry Manilow, asking for engagement rings, to be taken to dinner, dressing up to impress him… the list is endless!
Moneypenny: (Verge of tears.) And I thought I was being so subtle!
Molly: You’re just jealous that I got my hands on his PPK before you did!
(Moneypenny runs off in tears.)
Publisher: Ah there you are Ian, do come in.
Fleming: Good morning. I don’t suppose there’s any chance of-
Publisher: A drink? Ready and waiting for you, here you go.
Fleming: Thank you... (Sips.) No, no, not stirred!
Publisher: Oh sorry, I’ll make you another one.
Fleming: Anyway, I take it you’ve read my new manuscript?
Publisher: Oh yes, of course. Terrific stuff, Ian, I don’t know how you do it.
Fleming: That’s very kind of you to say so.
Publisher: There’s just one or two little things…
Fleming: Oh yes?
Publisher: Now, I liked the whole opening bit- the girl in her underwear in Miami, watching the card game through binoculars. And later on she dies covered in gold paint! Fantastic!
Fleming: Yes…?
Publisher: And the golf game was great- maybe it could be cut down by a chapter or two?
Fleming: (Firmly.) No, I like golf.
Publisher: Well, all right. I loved the Aston Martin car with the tricks it can do.
Fleming: That one I’m particularly proud of. You didn’t miss the Bentley?
Publisher: It's had its day, I'm afraid. I think you’re on to something with the Aston Martin! Maybe James could drive it in other stories?
Fleming: Hmmm...
Publisher: Well, I’ll leave that one with you. The Korean manservant, what was his name, Random Task?
Fleming: Oddjob.
Publisher: Yes, him. Very scary. I liked the bowler hat he throws to kill people. Don’t suppose you thought about him throwing a shoe as well?
Fleming: A shoe? Who throws a shoe?
Publisher: I suppose you’re right. Now, you’ve got Pussy Galore.
Fleming: I’ve always got pussy galore!
Publisher: No, her name is Pussy Galore.
Fleming: (Sighs.) I must be dreaming…
Publisher: Can’t you change that, say, to Kitty Galore?
Fleming: No, I like Pussy.
Publisher: I’d spotted that. We might have some troubles with the censor, I’m thinking. For their benefit, Ian, let's make him as happy as possible. I suggest you change it into something more suitable.
Fleming: Pussy stays.
Publisher: (Reluctantly.) On your own head be it.
Fleming: And the ending at Fort Knox? $15 billion!
Publisher: Yes, well... I've worked out a few statistics of my own. $15 billion in gold bullion weighs 10,500 tons. 60 men would take 12 days to load it onto 200 trucks. At the most, Goldfinger will have two hours before the army, navy, air force, and marines move in and make him put it back.
Fleming: Do you expect the readers to count?
Publisher: No, Mr Fleming, I expect them to buy!
HARRY SALTZMAN: May I present James Bond, ma'am...
GEORGE LAZENBY: G'day mate...
THE QUEEN: So lovely to meet you again Mr Connery, I almost didn't recognise you with the long hair and beard...
PRINCE PHILIP: You're that Australian fellow, aren't you? We'll have Bonds from all over the bally Commonwealth, eh? Where are you going to find the next James Bond, India?
HARRY SALTZMAN: England, your highness...
THE QUEEN: How fascinating! Will you be making another James Bond film?
GEORGE LAZENBY: Nah, mate. James Bond's old hat now, he's dead as a dingo...
HARRY SALTZMAN: (firmly) Oh no he isn't...
GEORGE LAZENBY: You start an argument and I'll finish it, mate. You saw what I did to that stuntman's nose...
THE QUEEN: How frightfully interesting!
"The spectre of defeat..."
Grunther: It is time for my trip to the village, Fräulein.
Bunt: Of course. Now, write this down Grunther, so you do not forget.
Grunther: Jawohl, Fräulein Bunt.
Bunt: Two kilos of chicken- nein, make that three.
Grunther: (Writing.) Three kilos of chicken...
Bunt: Two kilos of potatoes.
Grunther: Ja…
Bunt: Two kilos of bananas.
Grunther: Ja..
Bunt: One jar of beauty cream.
Grunther: Beauty cream? But the girls are so beautiful already!
Bunt: Ja- it is for, er, an experiment...
Grunther: Ok.
Bunt: Two kilos of rice.
Grunther: Ja, two kilos of rice...
Bunt: Hmm, we have this man Sir Hilary Bray arriving tomorrow. He is Scottish- better buy a bottle of whisky. No, better make that two.
Grunther: Ja, will that be all?
Blofeld: (Off.) Fräulein Bunt!
Bunt: Ja, Herr Direktor?
Blofeld: (Off.) Hier!
(Bunt goes off, leaving Grunther standing patiently. She returns.)
Bunt: And fourteen tins of cat food.
"The spectre of defeat..."
Dr Hall: Darling!
Mrs Hall: Darling!
(Kiss.)
Mrs Hall: Work?
Dr Hall: Hard.
Mrs Hall: Tired?
Dr Hall: Very.
Mrs Hall: Hungry?
Dr Hall: Starving.
Mrs Hall: Chicken?
Dr Hall: Delicious.
Mrs Hall: Soon.
Dr Hall: Drink?
Mrs Hall: Please.
Dr Hall: Vodka?
Mrs Hall: Gin.
Dr Hall: Later…?
Mrs Hall: Headache.
Dr Hall: Damn.
Mrs Hall: Day?
Dr Hall: Wasted.
Barbel: Thanks.
Largo: Well, my friends, it would seem as if our plans are proceeding well. Would anyone care for a drink?
Fiona: I will have only a soda.
Largo: Mr Janni?
Janni: Rum Collins, please.
Largo: Mr Quist?
Quist: Yes, Rum Collins please.
Largo: Mr Vargas?
(Vargas twists his lip and looks away.)
Largo: I see. Well, who wants a cigarette then?
Fiona: I will have one.
Janni: Me too.
Quist: And me.
Largo: Vargas?
(Vargas stares straight ahead.)
Largo: Ok… Perhaps a game then? Who wants to play a game?
Fiona: I do not think so.
Janni: Count me out.
Quist: Not me.
Vargas: Yes! I’d love to play charades!
Largo: Well, it seems we have answered one question, anyway.
Nick Nack: Hey boss! Ahem, Monsieur Scaramanga. This looks a perfect spot!
Scaramanga: Nick Nack, I think you may be right.
Nick Nack: Monsieur, is it big enough for what we need?
Scaramanga: It's not exactly a hollowed out volcano, is it? The island we need would have to be massive to harvest solar energy efficiently. But I shall attempt to make it look as modest as possible to the observer. Except for the big bubbling circular things.
Nick Nack: Will it be expensive, Monsieur?
Scaramanga: Yes, Nick Nack, very. But I will ensure we will only have one guard manning it at all times.
Nick Nack: This guard Monsieur. He must be exceptionally tough, resilient and most of all - extremely trustworthy.
Scaramanga: His record is impeccable Nick Nack. Except of course for his one tiny Achilles heel - scantily-clad Swedish blondes. Fortunately there's absolutely no chance of one of those turning up on this island.
Nick Nack: You seem to have thought of everything Monsieur!
Scaramanga: Just to make sure Nick Nack, I will build the one sure-fire defensive structure which is impenetrable!
Nick Nack: A hollowed-out volcano with automated machine guns and lasers?
Scaramanga: A fun house.
Nick Nack (under his breath): You're living in a fantasy island, Monsieur.
Well observed!
Publisher: Ah come in Ian, come in. Filthy weather out there.
Fleming: It is indeed. You wouldn’t have a little something to keep out the cold?
Publisher: No, I have a big something to keep out the cold. Here you go- three measures of Gordons, one of vodka-
Fleming: Oh, I think I can guess what’s in it. Now, what can I do for you?
Publisher: Loved your new manuscript! It may be your best yet!
Fleming: Why, thank you.
Publisher: I love that it’s in Jamaica, just like that other one...er… “Die And Live..”?
Fleming: “Live And Let Die”.
Publisher: Yes, that’s it! Great atmosphere!
Fleming: Well, I wrote the book in Jamaica you know.
Publisher: The characters: the Three Blind Mice, Quarrel, Pussy Feeler-
Fleming: That’s “Pus-Feller”.
Publisher: Oh. That makes quite a difference, I’ll have to read it again.
Fleming: Be my guest.
Publisher: And the midnight sail to Crab Key- fantastic. Now, when Bond wakes up the next morning and sees the girl with the shells on the beach…
Fleming: Honey Rider- one of my favourite parts, I enjoyed writing that.
Publisher: Oh, I’m sure. I was just wondering, though, does she have to be naked?
Fleming: I don’t see what you’re getting at.
Publisher: Well, I mean, it’s pretty graphic, isn’t it? Naked girl on the beach?
Fleming: I like that bit!
Publisher: Oh no doubt, but couldn’t she be wearing just a little? I mean, a white bikini for example?
Fleming: That would spoil the scene.
Publisher: Have it your way. Now, later when they meet the dragon, Quarrel and Honey are pretty convinced that it’s a real dragon- I thought it was obvious that it wasn’t. Bond figures it out quickly enough.
Fleming: You’ll just have to accept that, I’m afraid.
Publisher: Just like we’ll have to accept that the villain has no hands, is an ex-Tong, and has an undersea glass wall in his dining room?
Fleming: But of course.
Publisher: No, no, no!
Fleming: Hmmm…. Have you been talking to my friend Noel Coward?
Publisher: Hello, Ian, didn’t expect to see you again so soon!
Fleming: Well, I thought I’d give you a little surprise.
Publisher: You certainly have- no sooner have we put out “You Only Live Twice” than you’re back here again! Would you like one of your special drinks?
Fleming: No, but I think you might after you read this. (Produces manuscript.)
Publisher: Another manuscript? That was quick! Does this one explain what happens to Bond after he goes off to visit Vladivostok with no memory?
Fleming: No….
Publisher: Perhaps it tells us how M and everyone are getting on without him?
Fleming: No….
Publisher: Well, what IS it about then?
Fleming: You remember that you told me you liked the cars I wrote about? Especially the Aston Martin?
Publisher: Oh yes, loved that car! The little tricks it could do!
Fleming: Well, I’ve topped that. This car can fly!
Publisher: Did you say “fly”?
Fleming: Oh yes, that’s perfectly feasible. As a matter of fact they’re working on one now.
Publisher: I suppose it can become invisible, too?
Fleming: Now, that would be going a step too far. We’d never hear the end of it! People would overlook everything else and just talk about the invisible car.
Publisher: I suppose so. Does it turn into a hovercraft as well?
Fleming: Well, as a matter of fact....
Publisher: Don't tell me any more.
Fleming: And you’ve always enjoyed the names I give my female characters, haven’t you?
Publisher: When I can get them past the censor, yes.
Fleming: Well, here’s one for you- Truly Scrumptious!
Publisher: You are pulling my leg, Ian.
Fleming: Not at all. She’s the daughter of Lord Scrumptious.
Publisher: And how does Bond meet her?
Fleming: Bond?
Publisher: Yes- Bond, James Bond, the guy you write books about.
Fleming: Oh, didn’t I mention that? He’s not in this. It’s for children.
Publisher: Children.
Fleming: Yes, children.
Publisher: Well, Ian, it looks like you were quite right.
Fleming: Quite right? About what?
Publisher: About me needing one of your drinks. Now, three measures of Gordons, one of vodka...
(Before anyone comments, I'm perfectly well aware that this is not an accurate version of events)
In the book I was still married to Mrs Mimsie Pott. Obviously something traumatic happened in the intervening four years.
(does being corrected by a fictional character count as an imaginary conversation?)
And if I'm not mistaken, your name was singular in the original.
Interesting... B-)
These posts all continue to hit the mark. I gotta love the Vargas one!
Rubavitch: But, Leonid, you’re, you’re not-
Pushkin: I’m fine, my darling, it’s all part of a grand-
Rubavitch: You BASTARD!!! (Slaps Pushkin so hard his head rocks.) You made me think you were dead!
Pushkin: Yes, I know, I’m sorry-
Rubavitch: Sorry? (Kicks him on the shin.) I’ll show you what sorry is!
Pushkin: (Hopping on one leg.) But my love I can explain-
Rubavitch: Explain??? (Kicks him on the other shin.) You had better explain, Leonid Pushkin, and fast!
Pushkin: (Rolling about on the floor.) You see, it’s because Georgi Koskov-
Rubavitch: Koskov? Don’t talk to me about Georgi Koskov! All his fault, is it? That’s so like you, always blaming someone else.
Pushkin: (Getting back to his feet.) No, really, Georgi and James Bond-
Rubavitch: James Bond??? (Slaps him to the floor again.) The one that was in my room last night? The one that ripped my clothes off while you did nothing about it?
Pushkin: (Deciding it’s safer on the floor.) Now, my love, I think you’re being just a little unfair there- he did have a gun pointed at me after all.
Rubavitch: Ha! I’d be surprised if he could shoot straight, with all those tears in his eyes like he was weeping!
Dalton - the weak and weepy Bond!
Publisher: Ah, good morning Ian, thanks for coming in again.
Fleming: But of course, old chap.
Publisher: I suppose you'd like a drink?
Fleming: I'd like a cup of tea please.
Publisher: A cup of - are you feeling alright?
Fleming: Just kidding. Three measures of Gordon's, one of-
Publisher: Very droll, Ian. Umm, I'd like to have a chat with you about this new manuscript of yours - the sixth I believe.
Fleming: Ah, No.
Publisher: No? Is it the seventh? Have I missed one?
Fleming: No, it's No. Dr No.
Publisher: Ah, I see. You've abandoned your previous titles then - The Wound Man? And what about Commander Jamaica?
Fleming: The first sounds like my trip to Chelsea Royal Infirmary that time Ann threw a dinner plate at me. And the second sounds like the bottle of rum I drank beforehand.
Publisher: Ah. And this one has a little bit more wildlife than usual: roseate spoonbills, centipedes, crabs, spiders and even a giant squid.
Fleming: Well my office is opposite Goldman Sachs.
Publisher: And the dragon?
Fleming: My nickname for Ann when I got home from the infirmary.
Publisher: Hmm. I like Bond's ally on this mission, Quarrel. Where did you get his name from?
Fleming: The conversation I had with Ann when I got home and called her by her new nickname. Just before she stormed out.
Publisher: Jamaica?
Fleming: No, she went of her own accord. Now how about a quick one at El Vino's before we lunch at Rules?
(apologies for that last gag).