1) Why doesn't the heat seeking missile hit the reindeer? They have body temperatures, and they're immediately in the way. Do I get a no-prize for spotting that?
3) I gotta admit I sympathise with the goals of the bad guys. Christmas is too commercialized! but it makes sense James Bond should be opposed, as I always argue the value he is fighting to save is Consumerism rather than Democracy or Freedom
Scene 5. The dining room in James Bond’s hotel. He and Jingle are drinking mulled wine, just to keep out the cold, you understand.
Bond: You mentioned earlier that it seems as if we have the same objective. What do you mean?
Jingle: Grimm Scrooge. His lust for making Christmas obsolete ruined my life. I was only 16 that dreadful night when they came to our farm. The herd was restless, we thought it was due to a storm that was coming in. But it was Scrooge’s henchmen armed with machine guns. I can’t get the sound of the pitiful cries of the reindeer out of my head as they slaughtered our herd, mercilessly. My father tried to stop them with an axe, they shot him to pieces and then my mother too. I was screaming and one of them clubbed me with a gun. When I woke they were gone and only a few injured reindeer were left alive. I swore revenge. Over the years I built up the farm and herd again but never losing sight of my aim for revenge. The first step was tonight but you beat me to it. But I’m going to finish the job and kill Scrooge and all his henchmen- just stay out of my way, you’ve done enough, the final revenge must be mine.
Bond: Jingle, time is of the essence. I have to stop Scrooge and his men, I don’t want to have to fight you too. Can we work together? You know this region well, we can help each other, you’re not going to be able to do this alone. Are you… staying anywhere tonight?
Jingle: I have to get back and feed my reindeer.
Bond: Of course, of course. Is that your full-time job?
Jingle: Alas no, though I’d love it to be. I’m in sales.
Bond: Sales?
Jingle: Well, advertising really. Chocolate, mainly. I'm behind 'Nockers', to make them more visible to the public.
Bond: Ah… “Nockers”, you say?
Jingle: Yes. They’ve just increased the size, and I have to think of a way to make people like big Nockers. But I’m stuck on ideas- it’s so difficult to think of why people would like big Nockers.
Bond: Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.
Jingle: Yes, I wouldn’t want to make any boobs.
Bond: Well, the hands-on approach always works best for me.
Jingle: It’s an enigma, that’s what it is.
Bond: Well, let me know how you get on, I like to keep abreast of things.
Waiter: Your dessert, madam.
Bond: Good God, what is that?
Jingle: It’s the latest from Gordon Ramsay.
Bond: It’s not called “Number 2”, is it?
Jingle: It reminds me, I have to go and feed the reindeer.
Bond: And I’ll get the sleighmobile then we’ll set off together.
Scene 6. Lapland. Christmas Eve. Santa Claus is giving last minute instructions to his Elves before taking off on his traditional mission.
Santa: Now, are you sure you’ve got all that now?
Elves: (In unison.) Yes, Santa!
Santa: Good presents for all the good little girls and boys, and bad presents for the naughty ones?
Elves: (In unison.) Yes, Santa!
Santa: And rock & roll music forever!
Elvis: Yes, Santa, uh huh, uh huh.
Head Elf: But Santa, we’ve seen the list for who’s naughty and the list for who’s nice, but what’s that other list you’ve got?
Santa: Aha, that is my special list for those around the world who desperately need it. Look, for Vladimir in Russia he gets a sense of mercy. For Donald in the USA he gets a sense of humility. And for Boris in Britain he just gets sense.
(There is a loud thump at the door.)
Santa: Now, who could that be?
(The door burst open and Grimm Scrooge enters, er, grimly. He is followed by his men Hans Kneesbumpsadaisy, Lars Vargas, Morton Blunder, etc.)
Grimm: Santa! Now you are within my power!
Santa: Ah, young Grimm, how you’ve grown. I remember when you were a boy I used to bring you those blow-up rubber models of-
Grimm: Yes, yes, but I’m all grown up now. I used to love Christmas- the goodwill, the presents, the tree, the turkey, even Mariah Carey- but I’ve grown to resent the increasing commercialisation of it I see everywhere. The rubbish toys, the awful television specials, the way shops start selling Christmas food and decorations in July.
Santa: Oh, but that’s just people being keen and eager to-
Grimm: Enough! I’m going to put an end to all that business right now. Santa, come with me.
(Poor Santa is led outside to stand on the snow outside his grotto. Grimm’s men have television cameras at the ready.)
Grimm: It’s time for you to meet your maker, Father Christmas. Do you have any last words?
Santa: Last words? You wouldn’t really try to kill- James Bond!
Grimm: I certainly would, but you’re not him.
Santa: No, look over your shoulder.
Grimm: Ha, you don’t think I’m going to fall for that old one.
Santa: No, seriously, look over your shoulder.
(Grimm suspiciously turns round to see a sleighmobile heading straight for him, with James Bond and Jingle Belle on board followed by her herd of reindeer. It stops just beside him.)
Bond: Looks like I’ve arrived just in time- but why are you trying to do this?
Grimm: Austerity, Mr. Bond. All my life, I've been in love with its dourness, its paucity, its divine sparseness. I welcome any enterprise that will reduce extravagance, the thriftless masses and the unbridled wanton lust for gold and precious metals. I intend to stop these urges for superficial commercial products, the craving for something for nothing, Santa Claus is the main culprit, he indoctrinates the young with free gifts from an early age, the passion of wanting more and more is instilled from at point - stop Santa and you stop profligacy!!
Bond: Time to put you on ice, Grimm Scrooge.
Grimm: And who’s going to stop me, you and whose army?
Bond: (With a little smile.) Santa’s army, of course. Look up.
(From the sky are falling hundreds, if not thousands, of Santas on parachutes jumping out of RAF planes. The reindeer look up and do a double take, as does a passing pigeon. The Santas land and quickly surround the real Santa. Grimm looks on in horror as he realises there is no way of identifying his true target.)
Grimm: Where did they come from?
Bond: Shops everywhere- malls, department stores, toy stores. Restaurants and bars. Every last one of them is determined to stop you and your evil plan.
Grimm: Get them!
(Grimm’s men struggle, but they are no match for the overwhelming onslaught of fat, bearded old men. Bond uses the explosive tinsel Q gave him, as well as the flamethrower. Jingle sends entire herds of reindeer. In no time, Grimm is defeated.)
Grimm: Curse, you, Bond. My plan was faultless, and I’d have gotten away with it too, if not for you meddling kids.
Bond: Err.. wrong franchise, Grimm. Santas- take him away!
Jingle: But where should they take him, James?
Bond: Well, obviously- take him ho ho home!
(Grimm and his men are led away.)
Jingle: Those guys- why are they here?
Bond: It’s CHRI-I-S-T-M-A-A-S!!!!
Santa: I can’t thank you enough, James.
Bond: Just doing my duty, Santa.
Santa: I remember when you were a boy, I used to bring you a packet of three-
Bond: (Quickly.) Yes, yes, you did, and thank you very much.
(The airplanes circle round again and drop objects on parachutes. The Santas look up in surprise as the objects turn out to be lavvos for them to take shelter in until their transport arrives. They automatically open once they land.)
Santa: (Singing.) Jingle Bells, Grimm Scrooge smells, James Bond saves the day!
(He stops singing as he spies Jingle Belle.)
Santa: Ah, my dear, you must be frozen.
Jingle: No, I’m not Anna, I’m Jingle Belle.
Santa: Of course. I know more about who’s been naughty and who’s been nice than British Intelligence- though admittedly that’s not hard- and I suspect I have far fewer double agents in my staff.If I found one I'd give him the sack! Besides, the Sami people are practically my neighbours - or Lapps as I still like to call you!
Bond: You can't know everything, sir. I still get presents every Christmas!
(Santa laughs. His laughter could put Brian Blessed to shame.)
Santa: I know you've both been naughty, but saving the world repeatedly weighs heavily in the 'nice' column. Not to mention just saving me and Christmas!
(For once Santa doesn't laugh. He turns to Jingle Belle again.)
Santa: I also know most of your reindeer herd was taken from you in the most un-Christmaslike fashion. After today you deserve a very big Christmas present: I have the world's largest reindeer herd outside. Before you leave you can pick out twice as many animals as you lost. Just don't take Rudolph!
(Jingle jumps into Santa's lap and kisses him deeply on the mouth before she returns to Bond.)
Santa: HO, HO, HO!
Bond: (Singing softly.) I saw Jingle kissing Santa Claus...
Jingle: James, I didn't know you were into Christmas?
Bond: Oh, yes, I remember one Christmas I had really well.
Jingle: And did you have a happy Christmas?
Bond: Yes, Christmas was very happy.
Santa: Well, It’s Christmas Eve and I have a lot of work to do, so it’s time for you two to find your lavvo.
(Bond and Jingle say goodbye to Santa and step outside.)
Bond: Lavvo?
Jingle: Yes, look over there.
(The tent reminded Bond of the teepees of the Native Americans that he had seen in countless westerns, but this was the Sami "lavvo". The similarity made a lot of sense since both the Sami and the high plains Native Americans traditionally were nomads. The tents structure was made from long poles that were easily taken down and transported. James Bond wasn't completely sure what the cover of the lavvo was made of, but he noticed how the reindeer outside avoided direct eye contact with the lavvo. It was probably a good thing the reindeer never went inside, because the ground around the warm fire was covered with soft reindeer rugs.)
Jingle: This must be our lavvo here.
Bond: How can you tell?
Jingle: It’s number 007.
Bond: We'd better get in, the forecast is for quite a few inches. (They enter.) Now, hang up your pretty stockings and turn off the light.
Jingle: I really can't stay.
Bond: But baby it's cold outside!
Jingle: But very warm in here! I’m going to make you forget about Christmas past- have you heard of my people’s traditional dance….?
Bond: Jingle Bells!
James Bond.... Daniel Radcliffe
Jingle Belle.....Emma Watson
Santa Claus.....Robbie Coltrane
Grimm Scrooge... Alan Rickman
Moana Lisa.... Shirley Henderson
Santajaws.... Toby Jones
M... Ralph Fiennes (obviously)
Miss Moneypenny... Clémence Poésy
Q.... Rupert Grint
Tanner.... Tom Felton
(James and Jingle are busy when there is a knock on the door of their tent- which is pretty impressive when you think about it.)
Santa: Er, James?
Bond: (Quickly rearranging his clothing.) Come in, Santa!
Santa: (Entering.) In all this excitement I forgot to ask you what you would like this Christmas.
Bond: Oh, that's obvious.
Santa: Well, what would you like?
Bond: I want you to go to Eon HQ, give Michael and Barbara a good kick up the arse, and tell them to get on with it!
I'd like to say a big "Thank You" to Number24 and CoolHandBond. We wrote the above story together and had much fun in so doing, so much fun that we're already thinking about doing another one!
In the meantime, I'm going to wait a day or two then plan to write another more standard Imaginary Conversation.
Without turning this into a backslapping event I would like to say thanks to Number 24 and our editor-in-chief Barbel for making this a fun experience. Getting three people from different countries and different time zones to get together and work without hitting lumps out of each other was something else entirely! 😜
Yeah, well, sometimes nothin' can be a real cool hand.
I'd like to virtually slap CHB and Barbel's backs (as well as showing incredible flexibility by slapping my own back) and say writing Snowfall was a joyride. If the reader has half the fun reading it as we had writing it you're in for a very Bondian Christmas! 🎁😊🎄
15th December 2022. The abode of Henry Cavill. He is pacing up and down.
Assistant: I do wish you’d sit down and relax, Mr Cavill.
Cavill: Relax? How can I relax?
(He keeps pacing.)
Assistant: Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you a nice cup of coffee?
Cavill: I just can’t believe it! They wait until I’ve announced that I’ll be returning as Superman and then, only then, do they tell me they’re dropping me!
Assistant: Yes, well-
Cavill: And not only that- they wait until I have announced that I will be quitting “The Witcher”! The timing is awful!
Assistant: Yes, sir, but walking up and down isn’t going to-
Cavill: I don’t want to get too far from the phone! The way my luck has been running recently, she’ll probably phone while I’m in the kitchen, or something.
Assistant: She, sir?
Cavill: Yes, she! There’s still a chance for me!
Assistant: But, sir, look at your achievements- there aren’t many actors who can claim to have played Superman AND Sherlock Holmes AND The Man From U.N.C.L.E. are there?
Cavill: But there’s one more part that I need. One more part that would be the jewel in my crown. I missed out on it once before, they said I was too young, and I damn well don’t want to miss out on it again!
Assistant: But-
(The telephone rings. Cavill launches himself towards it, faster than a speeding bullet, but the assistant is nearer.)
Assistant: Mr Cavill’s residence…. Whom shall I say is calling?…. A Ms Broccoli, I see, certainly madam, I’ll see if-
(Cavill wrenches the phone out of the assistant’s hand.)
Cavill: Hello, Ms Broccoli, how are you?…. Why, of course I’ll call you Barbara…. What’s that? Tomorrow morning… Yes, Barbara, I believe I can make that…. Fine, I’ll see you in the morning…. Morning…. Morning…
Cavill: Morning…. (He wakes up in his bed.) What? What did you say?
Assistant: I said good morning, Mr Cavill. I’ve brought your early morning tea.
Cavill: Oh crap, it was only a dream… Wait, tell me the first bit was only a dream and I’m still Superman!
Assistant: Alas. No, sir.
Cavill: Oh crapitty crap crap crap… Follow me with the tea, I’ll be pacing up and down next to the phone.
1971. Eon HQ, in a well-guarded complex somewhere in Nevada. Director Guy Hamilton is talking to producers Cubby Broccoli and Harry Saltzman.
Guy: Right, Harry and Cubby, I’m just about to prepare the final cut but there’s one scene I’m not sure of.
Harry: What do you mean, Guy?
Guy: I’m not sure if we’ll get away with it.
Cubby: Well, how about you show us the scene and we tell you our thoughts.
Guy: That’s what I was thinking. Let me just turn the lights down… and here we go.
The film starts, in the laboratory of Professor Doctor Metz in a well-guarded complex somewhere in Nevada. James Bond, in the guise of one Klaus Hergersheimer, has infiltrated the laboratory much to the annoyance of Professor Doctor Metz.
Metz: Now will you get out of here?
Bond: Certainly, Doctor. I’ve sheen everything I need to shee, thank you very much.
(As Bond leaves through one door, the real Klaus Hergersheimer enters through another.)
Hergersheimer: Hi, sorry to bother you. I’m Klaus Hergersheimer.
(Bond walks briskly down a corridor, aware that his cover will shortly be blown. He sees a door labelled “WW Tectronics. Secure Area. ABSOLUTELY NO ENTRY WITHOUT AUTHORISATION.” so naturally he opens the door and enters. As the door softly closes behind him, the sign falls revealing another underneath.
Bond walks past doors with card entry systems preventing entrance, but he can see through small windows. The first one seems to show an operating theatre, but the patient on the table is very short, perhaps four feet, and has grey skin and large eyes.)
Bond: What the…?
(He searches his pockets for a small camera, but in vain, and makes a mental note to ask Q to issue such a camera as standard equipment- perhaps personalised might be good.
Wishing he had more time, he moves on to the second door and stares through the window. He is astonished to see a large disc shaped vessel, hovering a few feet above the ground as people look on.
His astonishment is cut short by a loud alarm, and he knows exactly what that means. The door he came through bursts open, and several guards rush through. Quickly he dives into the next room, not caring what is inside…. At first, anyway.
In this room are men dressed as astronauts, moving around a perfectly designed moonscape. Bond hides behind one of the rocks until the guards enter.)
Guard: There he is! Behind that rock!
(Bond dives out. The astronauts, still moving at slow speeds, are unable to stop him climbing onto a handy moon buggy and driving it out through a wall.)
Guy: Well, what do you think?
Cubby: I think we’ll all be shot.
Harry: Or get 30 years in Alcatraz.
Guy: (Disappointed.) So you want me to cut it, then?
Cubby: Damn right we do.
Guy: But you’re gonna love the moon buggy chase!
Harry: Then cut from the lab to the moon scene- and even that I’m scared about!
1964. Jonathan Cape, Publishers. Ian Fleming walks in.
Publisher: Ah, Ian, good to see you. Have a seat.
Ian: Good morning. (Sits.)
Publisher: Can I offer you a cup of tea? Coffee perhaps?
(Fleming looks at him incredulously.)
Ian: How long have you been publishing my books, now?
Publisher: Oh, let me see, it’s about…. ah.
Ian: Yes?
Publisher: (Reluctantly.) Long enough for me to know better. Just give me a moment. (He walks to the drinks cabinet and begins mixing.) Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet… Anyway, I wanted to ask you something about this new book of yours.
Ian: “You Only Live Twice”, yes. What would you like to ask- remember to shake that, not stir it!
Publisher: Oh yes, sorry.
Ian: What would you like to ask me?
Publisher: Well, it’s about the scene in which a Japanese girl in a white bra and shorts gives James Bond a Japanese makeover- dyes his skin, works on his eyes, and so on. This is on Tiger Tanaka’s orders.
(He hands over the drink.)
Ian: Thank you. Yes, that scene- what about it?
Publisher: Are you sure about it?
Ian: Sure? What do you mean?
Publisher: Ah... well...
Ian: Oh, I know what it is. She doesn't take her bra off until the end of the scene- you want her to take it off sooner!
Publisher: No, not that. Well, it’s… it's...
Ian: Yes?
Publisher: You don’t think it might be… I don’t know… just a little…
Ian: Come on, man!
Publisher: (Tongue-tied at the thought of upsetting his best-selling author.) Ah, never mind. How’s your drink?
Ian: Oh, it was fine. Any chance of another?
1967. Eon HQ, in a golf club somewhere in S/E England. Roald Dahl sits hunched over a typewriter as Cubby Broccoli walks in.
Cubby: Hi Roald, how goes it today?
Roald: Oh fine, fine. I’m just writing the scene in which Bond gets a Japanese makeover on Tiger Tanaka’s orders.
Cubby: Yeah, that scene.
Roald: It’s just that…
Cubby: Yes?
Roald: You don’t think it might be… I don’t know… just a little…
Cubby: Lemme see.
(Cubby reads through the scene.)
Cubby: Ah right, right- I see what the problem is.
Roald: (Relieved.) You do?
Cubby: Yeah, you’ve only got one girl in a bikini, like in the book- change that, make it maybe five or six girls in bikinis.
1967. Shooting of “You Only Live Twice”. Director Lewis Gilbert, script in hand, is speaking with writer Roald Dahl.
Lewis: (Staring worriedly at script.) Are you sure about this, Roald?
Roald: I’ve been over it with Cubby, this is what he wants.
Lewis: Hmm. Well, okay.
(Lewis walks over to the set, Ken Adam’s idea of a cross between a beauty salon and an operating theatre. Cubby Broccoli is sitting there watching.)
Cubby: Right, Lewis, let’s get shooting. Time is money.
Lewis: Sure, Cubby, but there’s just this one thing in the script that-
Cubby: You’ve been over it with Roald? Then let’s start shooting. C’mon, I want to see all these babe in bikinis!
Lewis: Right… (He turns to his assistant.) Bill, would you like to ask Sean to join us?
Bill: Of course.
(Bill walks off. Lewis decides to try one last time.)
Lewis: Cubby, this scene where the girls try to disguise James Bond as a Japanese man...?
Cubby: Yeah, what about it?
Lewis: It’s just that I don’t see how they can do a convincing job of making a 6’2” former body builder like Sean Connery look like an average Japanese man.
Cubby: You’re the director, it’s your job to pull it off.
Lewis: Yes, but-
(Sean Connery joins them.)
Sean: Good morning, Lewish. (Pointedly ignoring Cubby.)
Lewis: Hi Sean, have you read the script for today?
Sean: All I have to do ish lie there- no problem!
Lewis: Not that- I’m worried about how this scene will look in the future.
Cubby/Sean: (Together.) In the future? (They realise they have spoken together and look away, embarrassedly.)
Lewis: I think that in years to come we might regret including this scene.
Sean: In yearsh to come I’m gonna regret all of theshe shcenesh.
Cubby: Look, Lewis, I’ll tell you what. Just do the scene then over the next couple of scenes gradually show less of the Japanese makeover until it’s gone- do it over about ten minutes and we never see it again. How does that sound?
Lewis: (Sighing.) Yes, all right. That should do it.
Cubby: And we’ll never hear anyone complain about it ever, I promise you.
Sir MilesThe Wrong Side Of The WardrobePosts: 27,757Chief of Staff
2012. Eon HQ, inside a mushroom-shaped rock somewhere off S/E Asia. Producers Michael G. Wilson and Barbara Broccoli, director Sam Mendes, and writers Neal Purvis & Robert Wade are in conference.
MGW: “Think On Your Sins”.
Mendes: “The Dead Are Alive”.
BB: Too Biblical for us.
Wade: “The End Of M”.
MGW: That gives too much away.
Mendes: “Goodbye, Judi”?
BB: That’s even worse!
Mendes: All right, you think of one then.
BB: “Hello Everybody, Moneypenny And Q Are Back”.
MGW: Be serious, Barbara.
Purvis: “From Istanbul To Scotland”.
Mendes: It’s dull.
Wade: “Well, It’s Better Than The Last One”.
MGW/BB/Mendes/Purvis: No!!!!
Wade: (Defensively.) It’s accurate!
MGW: Too accurate. “Bond Goes Home”.
BB: No, we don’t want to include his name in the title.
Purvis: “M Gets In Trouble”.
BB: And we don’t want to include anyone else’s name, either!
Purvis: Why not? Eon had great success with “Dr No”, “Goldfinger”, “Octopussy”…
BB: Just… no!
Mendes: How about “Cain vs Abel”?
MGW: The Bible, again?
Mendes: No, hear me out. M is a metaphorical mother to both Bond and Silva, and those two are fighting, so it’s as if they are brothers fighting each other!
(Purvis and Wade stare at each other, then quickly start scribbling in their notebooks. "Two brothers...")
BB: I don’t think so.
MGW: Me neither- Robert, Neal, what are you two doing?
Wade: Just…er, just jotting down ideas.
Purvis: For the next time, maybe.
BB: Never mind the next time, we’re trying to come up with a title for this time!
MGW: That’s right, and we’ll wait here until the sky falls!
BB: What?
MGW: What?
BB: What did you say, Michael?
MGW: I asked Neal and Robert what they were doing.
After a well-deserved break, Imaginary Conversations will be back very shortly with a story called "For Your Eiffel Only" written by (in alphabetical order) Barbel, CoolHandBond, Number 24, Thunderpussy.
Paris. The “Pam Door” awards. Two limousines draw up before the shouting crowds. Eva Green emerges from one, Olga Kurylenko from the other. They eye each other up mercilessly as they walk to the stairs, smiles fixed as they wave to the crowds.
Eva: You first, Olga, age before beauty.
Olga: No, no, you first, so I can catch you when your arthritis kicks in.
Eva: Oh, your face still works after all those operations, then?
Olga: And so does yours. Both of them.
(They raise their arms to wave, before turning to the stairs. Unseen by them, a large electromagnet falls from overhead and, attracted by their jewellery, pulls them up and through the air.)
Cannes. The “Golden Croissant” awards. Lea Seydoux is just coming to the end of her 47th interview that day.
Lea: ….so they asked me, and I thought, why not?
Interviewer: It was the first time that this has happened, n’est pas?
Lea: Mais oui, this is true.
Interviewer: And do you think you will be back in the next one?
Lea: Who knows? Never say never again.
Interviewer: Mesdames et messieurs, Lea Seydoux!
(As Lea warmly smiles and acknowledges the applause, her chair suddenly swivels into the wall. Another chair swivels out to replace the first one, but it is… empty.)
Paris d’encore. The “Quelle Merde” awards. Berenice Marlohe comes out from the doors to wave to the waiting crowd.
Berenice: Oh, merci, merci.
(She is scooped up by a large net which appears out of nowhere and carries her away.)
---------------------------------------------
AJB007 presents
For Your Eiffel Only
by (in alphabetical order)
Barbel, CoolHandBond, Number 24, Thunderpussy
-------------------------------------------------
Act 1, Scene 1
Somewhere in Paris…just outside France (With thanks to the great Ernie Wise)
A group of women sit around a huge circular table in a meeting room with a low ceiling and sloping walls.
Lucie Fur: The first part of the plan has gone exceedingly well. Ladies, any questions?
Number 3: Yes, what is the next stage of Operation Cover Up?
Lucie: Mordache is looking after the next phase of the operation. The aim, as you know, is to stop all these French actresses from undressing in every scene they’re in! We are going to plant a bomb at a secret location and demand these nudity clauses are deleted from movie contracts so that we decent actresses (Looks at Number 15 and rolls her eyes.) can get roles without stripping off! These four “actresses” will be next to the bomb.
Number 8: (Putting a hand to her mouth.) A bo…!
Lucie: No, not a bo… a bomb.
(A giant of a man enters, followed by some guards who lead the four kidnapped actresses into the meeting room.)
Lucie: Ah! The four brazen hussies. Not so sexy and glamorous now, are you? Now you are part of my magnificent-
Olga: It’s all Eva’s fault.
Eva: Hark at you, as if you never-
Olga: Me?
Lucie: (Looking angry.) Now you are part of my-
Eva: Yes, you, who do you think?
Lucie: You are part of-
Olga: At least I do think, unlike you.
Lucie: Now I have you in my-
Olga: La pute!
Eva: Vieille sorciere!
(Eva stamps on Olga’s foot and Olga lets out a piercing yell.)
Lucie: Ugh! Take them away!
(The guards lead the four back to their cells, Olga and Eva bickering the whole time.)
Lucie: (Trying hard to compose herself.) Mordache, can you update us on how the operation is going, please?
Mordache: The bomb has been planted. Petit Boulot and myself have taken personal responsibility to ensure your instructions have been carried out to the letter, ma’am.
Lucie: You followed my plan implicitly?
Mordache: Yes, it was all on the French letter you gave me.
(Number 7 stifles a giggle.)
Lucie: You translated French into English with no problem?
Mordache: Yes, Number 7 was very good in helping me, I would say she’s an expert in French Polishing… umm… helpng me gen up on the French language, I mean.
(Number 7 giggles again, blushing.)
Lucie: Right, everything is going as planned- ARSE is in business!
Number 18: ARSE?
Number 12: It’s an acronym. Actresses Refusing to Strip Entirely. ARSE.
Number 15: I thought we were trying to stop showing our arses?
Lucie: (Head in hands.) Oh, dear God. Right, listen we need to look out for James Bond. MI6 will send him to hunt us down. He’s easily recognisable, always wears a tux wherever he goes. We reconvene tomorrow.
-------------------------------------------------
Act 1, Scene 2
Moneypenny’s office. She is busy at her word processor when a hand appears round the door and throws a beanie, accurately, at an almost disused hatstand in the corner. She looks up happily.
Bond: A pleasure to see you, Moneypenny.
Moneypenny: Just to see me?
Bond: That reason is more than good enough for me.
Moneypenny: Same old James. (He pinches her bottom as she gets up to the filing cabinet.) Only more so! You have to cut that out, this isn’t 1969 any more.
Bond: Care to discuss 69 round my place tonight?
Moneypenny: No I do not. Now, better get in to see M- he’s been expecting you.
(Bond enters M’s office.)
M: Ah there you are, 007. Good to see you back from all those nasty missile explosions, several bullet wounds, and that nanobot business, although looking a little different may I say?
Bond: That last mission… nearly killed me! Are you wanting me to look into the tax affairs of members of the cabinet, sir?
M: Not today, no.
Bond: Large loans to former Prime Ministers and the chairmanship of the BBC, perhaps? Bullying allegations against senior ministers? The ramifications of non-dom status for-
M: No, no, nothing like that. What do you know about French actresses, 007?
Bond: Not as much as I’d like to, sir. What’s been happening?
M: It seems that several high-profile French actresses have been kidnapped, very publicly.
Bond: Is someone looking for a ransom?
M: No, that’s the odd thing. There have been no demands at all.
Bond: I suppose it’s possible that the person behind this is simply a form of deranged collector- one who collects the real thing, rather than photographs or models?
M: That’s what you’re going to find out- you leave for France tonight.
Bond: France is a big place- do we have any leads, sir?
M: No, but I do have an idea. Go and see Q before you leave.
Bond: Yes, sir.
Q’s lab. Q is working away as Bond walks in.
Bond: Morning, Q.
Q: Good morning, 007. What shoe size are you?
Bond: Shoe size?
Q: Yes, what shoe size are you?
Bond: Q, you said I was a Size 9.
Q: Yes, but that was back when you were Daniel-…… er, that was some some time ago. What size are you now?
Bond: I’m a Size 11.
Q: (Writing that down.) Size 11. And bust size, er, I mean, chest size?
Bond: (Beginning to get confused.) I’m 38 inches.
Q: (Continues writing.) You’re a 38… (Examines Bond carefully.) ….C, I would say. Yes, definitely a 38C.
Bond: Q, what on Earth are you going on about?
Q: Instructions from M, 007. I’ve to get you properly fitted out before you leave on your mission.
Bond: Properly fitted out? Q, this is all wrong. This is the time when you give me an explosive wristwatch, or a car that flies, or a submarine in a briefcase, or-
Q: (Working on a computer screen.) Yes, yes, I know.
Bond: Wait a minute, you needed my shoe size- I know, you’ve got a set of flying boots for me with rockets firing from each side?
Q: Oh no, not at all.
Bond: Then shoes armed with a stiletto?
Q: (Chuckling.) Ah… yes, yes, you could say that.
Bond: Huh?
Q: Perhaps this may give you a clue, 007.
(Q points at the computer screen. Bond looks at it. He’s bewildered at first, then as he begins to understand an expression of horror comes over his face.)
Bond: Oh no, no- you can’t be serious!
Q: M’s orders, 007. M’s orders.
--------------------------------------------
Act 1, Scene 3
A tailor in London. James Bond enters.
Tailor: Ah, good afternoon, sir.
Bond: Good afternoon, Tom.
Tailor: Tom? Have we met, sir?
Bond: Yes, of course we’ve met. It’s me.
(Tom shakes his head doubtfully.)
Tom: I don’t think so…
Bond: It’s me. Bond. James Bond.
Tom: Mr Bond? But you were shorter, and your hair was… (Light dawns.) Ah, of course! Mr Bond! How nice to see you again, sir.
Bond: I’d have thought you’d be used to it after all this time.
Tom: Yes, of course, it’s just that I heard that you had been… never mind. What can I do for you, Mr Bond? A nice tight suit? A black sweater, perhaps?
Bond: No, I-
Tom: A black bow tie then? A white dinner-
Bond: No, nothing like that. It’s… Oh God…. It’s this.
(He reaches into his pocket and reluctantly produces the design Q has given him.)
Tom: Let me see. Ah…..
(Bond shifts his feet uncomfortably.)
Tom: Are you sure this is the correct design, Mr Bond?
Bond: Yes, I’m afraid it is. Is there a problem?
Tom: Oh no, no, we can certainly make this. It might take a little longer than usual, I’m afraid.
M’s office. Bond is looking in a mirror in M's private office bathroom while pulling on a brunette wig,...
Bond: It rubs the ointment on its skin...
M: What's that, Bond?
Bond: Just something Q told me when he gave me the make up cream, said it really helped him out with that salty spray in Portsmouth.
M: Oh, I didn't know he sailed?
Bond: No, he just had a weekend there with a couple of sailor friends.
(M nods and looks at a bra.)
M: Looking good, Bond.
Bond: Feeling good sir, in fact better than I imagined!
M: Those stockinged legs, long hair, firm breasts and full lips..... You certainly remind me of my Mother.
Bond: Eh? Thank you sir.
M: I bet you'll turn a few heads.
Moneypenny: (Passing with a file.) ...And a few stomachs too, no doubt!
M: Seeing you like this, I can't help feeling a swelling.....
Bond: Sorry sir? (Raises an eyebrow.)
M: ...of pride in Britain. Of course we've made a few mistakes – Boris, Brexit, Liz Truss (Bond, M, and Moneypenny all race for the toilet bowl.)- but I think you'll save us once again. Now come to my desk for some equipment.
(Bond follows, a little wobbly on his high heels.)
M: By the way, I hope you didn't blow the budget on that case full of lingerie.
Bond: Oh no sir, I'm staying with Tanner and walked in to his bedroom one evening and his closet was full of it, all colours and styles. He said it was for research.
M: Strange, we didn't plan this till yesterday.
Moneypenny: It’s amazing what you find in Tanner’s closet.
M: Or coming out of it. Still, here is a Beretta .22.
Bond: Nice and light in a lady's handbag.
M: And we've put together this tidy little kit, a radio compact and an atomiser, which you must never touch!
Bond: Why not, sir?
M: It's a gift for my wife and very expensive. Now, here are your travel documents and cover name for Paris.
Bond: Fanny Le Fifi, burlesque dancer and plumber (weekdays only). It will be nice to visit Paris again. Last time I was there was as a protection officer for Nigel Farage. I remember walking along the Seine, I on the left bank, he on the right.
M: He was always a little to the right. By the way, Bond, now that you're a female as per policy we'll be cutting your wages by 30%. Also, could you get me a cup of coffee and just run a duster around the office before you leave?
(Through force of habit he stands in a stall as the attendant looks across.)
Attendant: Psst!
Bond: Certainly not, I haven't had a drink all day.
Attendant: This is for ladies only, mate. (She is an East end attendant, in fact looking remarkably similar to Del Boy.)
Bond: And so is this, but sometimes I have to use it to pee. (He tucks "Little James" back in.)
Attendant: Oh, Bonnet de Douche.
Bond: It was an inspiration you coming here.
Attendant: Mange Tout.
Bond: And you’re twice as lovely in the blue light from the fly killer.
Attendant: Pot Pourri! (Blushing.) It's impossible, knowing you only two minutes and all I can think of is how we would be together.
Bond: Just let it happen, I'll be back and tell you all about myself in the morning.
(In a while Bond exits, leaving the smitten attendant.)
Attendant: Creme de la menthe! (She blushes again, looking in the mirror.)
On the train, Pt 2
Bond gets a drink and sits at a table looking out the train window, as a young man sits beside him.
Man: Hello, Madame.
Bond: Mademoiselle.
Man: This may sound strange, but I need your help.
Bond: Pardon?
Man: If you look under the table you'll see my credentials.
Bond: I'm not falling for that old one........ again. That would be twice today!
Man: No please look, I'm serious.
Bond: Very well, but if this is just another flash, I'll be so annoyed.
(Bond looks down.)
Bond: Oh, I see you’re Jewish.
Man: Yes, they put loads of information on I.D. cards these days.
Bond: As you've shown me yours I'd better show you mine. Look under the table, I too have a surprise for you.
(The man looks down.)
Man: Oh my god, I'm gonna be sick! (Grabs a sick bag and throws up.)
Bond. Sorry I don't know how that got down there. (Pulls out a small photo of Liz Truss.)
I use it instead of thinking of cricket scores and dead kittens.
Man: It was a bit of a shock.
Bond: Here, look again.
Man: Wow, that's a big one and so thick.
Bond: Yes, MI6 does have bigger I.D. cards than the CIA.
Man: But why so thick?
Bond: MI6 heating vouchers- times are tough. So you're Ethan Hunt, then.
Hunt: Yes, Mr Bond.
Bond: Ssh, I'm in disguise.
Hunt: Oh, I thought it was a British weekend thing. Now look, we're in a spot of trouble. I know this will sound very silly to an agent of your calibre, but we've lost a hard drive with the names of all our embedded agents worldwide plus a famous painting from the director's office- " Impression Sunrise". Can you believe that could happen!
Bond: (Turning to look out of the window.) More often than you'd think. (Aloud.) Yes that does sound careless, impossible almost. So you want the hard drive back. What about the painting?
Hunt: Does it look like we need the Monet? I was hoping for your help.
Bond: Sorry, I'm on a mission myself- you don’t think I’m dressed like this for fun, do you?
Hunt: Good luck, Bond, I'll try the next carriage. You wouldn't believe it but I think I saw Jason Bourne talking to Jack Ryan. One dressed as a clown and the other in a full gorilla suit.
Bond: (Nervously smiling.) I can believe it. Again, it happens more often than you might think…..
(As Ethan walks away a young waiter approaches Bond.)
Waiter: Madame, would you like a complementary Crepe made with my mother's famous fudge recipe?
Bond: (In his unconvincing “female” voice.) It's Mademoiselle, and no thank you.
Waiter: Sure? A big boned girl like yourself, no stranger to a fish supper?
Bond: No thanks.
Waiter: Look, it's only wafer thin.
(Bond grabs the waiter’s lapels and speaks in his normal voice.)
Bond: Get these Mother fudging Crepes off this Mother fudging train!
Waiter: But I wanted to cover you in sponge fingers, custard and whipped cream!
Bond: Stop- I won't be trifled with.
(The waiter scurries off to talk to his friend.)
2nd Waiter: How did it go?
1st Waiter: Not well, I noticed she had a copy of Playboy in her bag.
Rene Mathis: Mon Dieu, James! When the people at MI6 said you 'ave changed they weren't exaggerating...
Bond: Thank you for fixing this rendezvous for me on such short notice, Mathis. The mission requires me to establish my cover as an up-and-coming French movie star.
Mathis: Why must you go undercover as an actress? Aren't there female agents in MI6?
Bond: For some reason our female agents always choose to change careers to secretary after meeting me. Beside I'm always the best, and Q and Tanner were excited by the idea.
Mathis: You're meeting Carpé Liquer, probably the only major female French movie star who hasn't been in an English-language spy franchise since 2006. The movie studio has agreed to make a trailer and poster for a fake movie titled "La vie d'Lea - parte 3 & 4". The studio needed some government support after their big budget movies "Eiffel" and "Asterix and the Pirates" bombed.
Bond: Excellent! Is that all it takes to be a movie star?
Mathis: Of course not! Afterwards there are photoshoots with Mlle Liquer for some major magazines! You're not a star when the audience say so. You're a star when the studio and magazines say you are!
Bond: Thank you, Mathis. You're the kind of friend no-one would ever think of throwing in a dumpster.
(Bond enters the studio. Everyone smokes, including the child actors. He finds Carpé Liquer on the Christophe Lambert Stage, formerly the Gerard Depardieu Stage and the Brigitte Bardot Stage before that. When Bond spots Carpé Liquer he discovers she is very beautiful even by the standards of French actresses. She is in fact so indescribably beautiful we won't describe her here.)
Carpé: Merde! (Takes a puff from her cigarette.) Are you telling me you want me to wear this costume in the next scene?
Director: The costume is made by one of France's most exclusive fashion brands. I'm sorry if it isn't expensive enough for you, Mlle Liquer.
Carpé: The costume is expensive enough, but I have my rights!
Director: I'm sorry, what rights do you mean?
Carpé: My right to do nude scenes!
Director: What? But you're taking out the garbage in this scene!
Carpé: As a Canadian director I can see why you're not familiar with the standard contract of the French Actresses Guild.
(Carpé whips out a document from a purse that probably cost more per square inch than a London City flat. She points at one of the paragraphs.)
Carpé: Read Section 6, Paragraph 5!
Director: "French actresses have the right to appear naked in any scene they want to, regardless of whether the scene requires it or not". I'm sorry, I didn't know...
Carpé: (Raising her fist in triumph.) Égalité, liberté, nudité!
(She undresses, then flicks away her cigarette. From behind the camera Bond watches the scene being shot with great interest and decides he is now a big fan of French cinema. When the scene is finished Carpé lights a fresh cigarette, dons a bath robe and walks over to Bond. Bond quickly picks up his jaw from the floor.)
Carpé: Bonjour. My name is Carpé Liquer.
Bond: (In his normal voice.) My name is Bond, James B.… Ahem. (He forces out an unconvincing falsetto, even more unconvincing than Pierce Brosnan’s singing in “Mamma Mia!”) Fanny Le Fifi.
Carpé: (Mumbles.) The standards of French cinema are dropping fast.... (Smiles.) Don't worry, Mister Bond. Mathis has informed me of your mission.
Bond: Are you worried your movie isn't good enough?
Carpé: The director is talented, but if this one bombs he'll be sorry.
Bond: I'm sure he will be.....
(Later Carpe, Bond as Fanny Le Fifi and the director are standing in front of a large computer screen in the studio. Everyone is smoking.)
Director: (Gesticulating enthusiastically.) Perfect! This is how the poster for "La vie d'Lea" will look. It's so original it will be impossible to copy.
(The poster shows Carpe is framed by "Fifi's" shaved legs and Carpe is kneeling wrapped in a French flag and holding a baguette that is very reminiscent of a .... cucumber? Car? Train? Snake? Gun? It's not one of those, but Bond was sure it would come to him in a minute. At the top of the screen the title "La vie d'Lea - parte 3 & 4" was written in blue on the back of Bond's thong. Bond nervously took a puff from his cigarette and immediately started coughing.)
Bond: Pardon. I haven't smoked since 2002.
(Carpe and the director turn and look as shocked at “Fifi” as if she just said she was really a man.)
Director: This poster with the trailer we just shot must be released on the internet right this second. This will make you a movie star all over France, Mlle Fifi!
(The director turns to the whole crew and claps with great enthusiasm.)
Director: And now, a short lunch!
(Three hours later everyone is finishing up their lunch.)
Bond: That was exquisite! I wonder if lunches on movie sets are always like this?
Carpe: In France, oui. Unfortunately standards are lower in other countries. The worst I've experienced was early in my career. I was in a Norwegian movie. Apparently catering is seen by the Norwegians as punishment for not bringing your own lunch, usually sandwiches of whole grain bread topped with brown cheese in a paper bag. (Shudders). They call it 'niste'. The catering was so bad I started bringing my own niste near the end of the shoot. If they hadn't offered me an extra nude scene I would've quit the movie....
(The photoshoots for magazines. The photographers wisely focus on Bond's long legs and his long wig, but mostly everything is on Carpe.
Half-naked Carpe is reading "Swann's Way" by Marcel Proust. Bond is showing his long legs while reading "Asterix and the Great Crossing".)
Photographer: Good, but we need Mlle Fifi to show some skin too. We can't have Carpe having all the perks, n'est-ce pas?.
Bond: (Suddenly very nervous.) I can't! Because....... I haven't shaved everything!
Photographer: Don't worry. We're in France, it's not necessary.
Bond: But... But.... I don't want to!
Photographer: (Looking both shocked and suddenly more than a little suspicious.) Don't you want to undress? Are you sure you're really a French actress?
(Everyone in the room turns to Bond and looks very mistrustful.)
Bond: Okay... (With a more feminine voice.) d'accord. (He starts very slowly to drop his clothes. Bond wishes a hole would open up under him and the earth would swallow him whole. Suddenly a hole opens up under Bond and the earth seems to swallow him whole.)
A secret location. The previous kidnap victims are sitting around in their locked room.
Eva: This is terrible! Will no-one come and save us?
Olga: That is so typical- “Will no-one come and save us?” Ha!
Eva: Always someone else’s fault with you, isn’t it?
Berenice: Oh be quiet you two, that is not helping.
Lea: Yes, you are right.
Olga: We must think of a way to save ourselves. Now, let me think….
(The door opens and a figure dressed as a woman is shoved brutally into the room.)
Eva: Oh, no, someone else is joining us.
Berenice: What’s your name, you poor thing?
Bond: (For, of course, it is he.) Bond, Ja…. er….
Olga: Bonja?
Lea: What a beautiful name!
Bond: No, my name is Bond, James Bond.
(There is a moment’s silence, then the four actresses all burst out laughing.)
Olga: Oh, come on!
Lea: You’re him?
Eva: James Bond?
Berenice: You must be joking!
Bond: No, honestly, I’m James Bond. I’ve come to save you.
Lea: Come to save us?
Eva: That’s not why James Bond usually comes.
Berenice: How can you be James Bond?
Olga: You’ve changed since I last saw you!
Bond: No, listen… In fact, look!
(Bond quickly pulls off the wig, kicks off the stiletto heels, and pulls the padding out from his bra.)
Olga: You’re a man!
Eva: No ****, Sherlock.
Bond: That’s what I’ve been trying to-
Lea: No way are you James Bond!
Bond: What?
Lea: You’re much too tall, for one thing.
Berenice: And your hair’s too dark.
Bond: It would take a long time to explain- in fact, it would take eons to explain (A faint rimshot is heard from somewhere.)- but I really am James Bond and I really am here to save you.
Eva: Well, you’re not making a very good job of it so far. We’re all locked up in here together with no way out.
Bond: Don’t worry, I-
Olga: Quick, someone’s coming!
(Bond reapplies his increasingly less convincing disguise just in time as a very large guard opens the door and points at him.)
Bond follows the huge 7’6’’ guard down a corridor.
Bond: You remind me of someone else. What’s your name?
Guard: Mordache. My cousin used to be a henchman before he got involved with a girl with braces.
Bond: Tomboy, was she?
Mordache: Braces on her teeth, stupid.
(Bond and Mordache enter a room with low ceilings and sloping walls. Behind a futuristic looking desk is a glamorous woman. She points to a chair in front of her desk and beckons Bond to sit. Mordache stands behind Bond, ready to pounce should he try to make a move.)
Lucie: Good evening. I am Lucie Fur.
Bond: A woman?
Lucie: Your powers of observation do you credit…..Mr. Bond! It takes more than a few props to turn into a woman, though. Your previous attempt of wearing a skirt didn’t fool Blofeld in Switzerland.
Bond: (Shouting angrily) Kilt!
Lucie: There’s no need to swear, Mr. Bond.
Bond: What is all this about?
Lucie: Nudity. Nudity and French actresses. All they do is strip off in every movie. They get all the best parts because decent actresses will not go naked in front of the camera. It’s time we made a stand and put a stop to this degenerate behaviour.
Bond: Personally, I cannot agree, all French actresses are ooh la la!
Lucie: You’re a sexist, misogynistic dinosaur. A relic of the Colonel Klebb era. Anyway, I’m fighting back- a bomb will explode on the set of ‘’Eiffel’’ the first of many such displays of terror I have planned against movie producers and those ghastly French actresses!
Mordache: (Raising his hand.) Umm…did you say…movie set?
Lucie: Yes, movie set.
Mordache: Umm…we thought you meant the real Eiffel Tower!
Lucie: You what?
Mordache: (Reddening.) We thought you meant the real Eiffel Tower and so we… we put the bomb...
Lucie: You idiots! Take Bond back to his cell.
(Mordache grabs Bond and hauls him back down the corridor to the cell. Mordache stands dumbfounded as he sees the cell door open and the girls have gone, with the keys still in the lock. He looks at Bond and for the first time shows a set of metal teeth. Evading Mordache’s outstretched arms Bond does a fast twirl and the hem of his dress rises showing that he hasn’t forgotten what isn’t worn under a kilt! A look of horror etches onto Mordache’s face as he sees what’s under the dress and Bond executes a neat karate kick with his stiletto heeled shoe and knocks Mordache into the cell and slams the door shut, turning the key.)
Mordache: (Looking through the bars.) It’s true!
Bond: As true as what’s the difference between Meghan and the Eiffel Tower. (Bond turns to go.)
Mordache: Wait! I got’s to know!
Bond: Wrong franchise, but…
(Bond whispers the punchline and Mordache’s eyes open wide, he grins and shows his set of metal teeth.)
Bond: I got that from Jeremy Clarkson.
(Bond heads for the exit and the Eiffel Tower, with the sound of raucous laughing echoing in his ears.)
--------------------------------------------
Act 3, Scene 4
Paris. Still in his increasingly unconvincing female garb, Bond races out into the street and hails a taxi.
Driver: Que voulez-vous, ma cherie?
Bond: La Tour Eiffel, et vite!
Driver: Bien sur.
(As they race through the streets, Bond quickly decides to change into his more usual clothing which fortunately he had hidden. He also decides that switching to English is a lot more convenient.)
Driver: Hey, weren’t you a lady when you came in?
Bond: Could be,
Driver: I tend to notice little things like that.
Bond: Just get me to the Tower!
Driver: Okay, okay.
(At the Tower, Bond speedily pays off the driver.)
Driver: Hey, are you sure you weren’t a lady earlier?
Bond: (Speaks very slowly and clearly.) No, I’m definitely a man. Definitely. (Looks aside.) Did you get that, Michael and Barbara?
(He heads in to the Tower. Evading the huge queue waiting at the lift, he begins to race up the stairs.)
Bond: (Puffing and panting.) Phew, this is hard work- a good thing I’m not doing this at nearly 60 years old, that would be completely unbelievable. Hey, what’s that?
(Through a nearby window, he spots a man with a large moustache lying apparently dead in a bowl of soup. What appears to be a butterfly is stuck to his neck.)
Bond: That seems somehow familiar…. But no time to lose, must get to the top!
(As Bond emerges at the top, he sees Lucie Fur standing with Carpe in her arms. She is holding a gun to Carpe’s head.)
Bond: Carpe!
Lucie: No further, Mr Bond.
Carpe: I’m all right, James, just stop her!
Bond: Listen to me, Lucie, this isn’t what you wanted. This is the real Tower, you wanted your bomb set off on a film set.
Lucie: I know, but then it seemed that this would be even greater publicity for my campaign.
Carpe: But that’s all too much just to stop French actresses taking their clothes off!
Lucie: No! Do you have any idea how envious I am of how cultured and high-brow French actresses seem?
Bond: It seems to me you’re in love with them!
Lucie: Of course not! I want the respect they all get!
Bond: Then why let this bomb go off? Speaking of which, where is it, anyway?
Lucie: Oh, it’s just over- No!
Bond: Thank you for that, Lucie. This box here, then?
(The elevator behind them makes a faint ‘ding’.)
Lucie: (Pulling a control box out with her free hand.) Very clever, Mr Bond, but you can’t move fast enough to stop me pressing this button, and if you make one false move I’ll blow this lady’s head off.
Carpe: Don’t listen to her, James- we’ll all be dead anyway! Go ahead and get the bomb!
Lucie: Ha! Your fatal weakness, Mr Bond. The girl or the mission?
(Suddenly the elevator doors open and Eva, Olga, Berenice, and Lea all spill out. They swarm all over Lucie, freeing Carpe and taking away the control box.)
Lucie: No! Give me back that box!
Olga: No way- wasn’t it a great idea of mine to come up here, ladies?
Eva: Your idea? Why you-
(As they bicker, Lucie make a mad lunge for the control box. Like lightning, Bond leaps for the bomb and throws it over the side. It explodes harmlessly in midair.)
Lucie: Nooooo!
(She leaps over the side after her bomb. Bond tries to grab her, but falls too. Carpe makes a desperate lunge.)
Carpe: James!
(Falling, Bond notices a black and yellow parachute stowed under the top platform, clearly there for years as a backup. He grabs hold of it, and manages to strap it on while Carpe clings desperately to him. He opens it just in time.)
Carpe: Oh, James!
(The parachute brings them safely to land on a strange-looking vessel.)
Carpe: We’re safe!
Bond: (Looking around.) Yes, but where are we?
Carpe: I think I recognize this- it was used in the film “Asterix And the Pirates”. It’s the pirate ship.
Bond: Ah, right.
(They embrace. As the kiss, the ship slowly sinks into the river.)
Comments
1) Because we already have Sacrificial Bond Reindeer in Jingle's background story.
2) I don't know. You have to ask my co-authors.
3) Yes, but it can be argued that Grimm Scrooge goes too far by trying to kill Santa.
That was where the SPECTRE script fell short - no Sacrificial Bond Reindeer.
Scene 5. The dining room in James Bond’s hotel. He and Jingle are drinking mulled wine, just to keep out the cold, you understand.
Bond: You mentioned earlier that it seems as if we have the same objective. What do you mean?
Jingle: Grimm Scrooge. His lust for making Christmas obsolete ruined my life. I was only 16 that dreadful night when they came to our farm. The herd was restless, we thought it was due to a storm that was coming in. But it was Scrooge’s henchmen armed with machine guns. I can’t get the sound of the pitiful cries of the reindeer out of my head as they slaughtered our herd, mercilessly. My father tried to stop them with an axe, they shot him to pieces and then my mother too. I was screaming and one of them clubbed me with a gun. When I woke they were gone and only a few injured reindeer were left alive. I swore revenge. Over the years I built up the farm and herd again but never losing sight of my aim for revenge. The first step was tonight but you beat me to it. But I’m going to finish the job and kill Scrooge and all his henchmen- just stay out of my way, you’ve done enough, the final revenge must be mine.
Bond: Jingle, time is of the essence. I have to stop Scrooge and his men, I don’t want to have to fight you too. Can we work together? You know this region well, we can help each other, you’re not going to be able to do this alone. Are you… staying anywhere tonight?
Jingle: I have to get back and feed my reindeer.
Bond: Of course, of course. Is that your full-time job?
Jingle: Alas no, though I’d love it to be. I’m in sales.
Bond: Sales?
Jingle: Well, advertising really. Chocolate, mainly. I'm behind 'Nockers', to make them more visible to the public.
Bond: Ah… “Nockers”, you say?
Jingle: Yes. They’ve just increased the size, and I have to think of a way to make people like big Nockers. But I’m stuck on ideas- it’s so difficult to think of why people would like big Nockers.
Bond: Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.
Jingle: Yes, I wouldn’t want to make any boobs.
Bond: Well, the hands-on approach always works best for me.
Jingle: It’s an enigma, that’s what it is.
Bond: Well, let me know how you get on, I like to keep abreast of things.
Waiter: Your dessert, madam.
Bond: Good God, what is that?
Jingle: It’s the latest from Gordon Ramsay.
Bond: It’s not called “Number 2”, is it?
Jingle: It reminds me, I have to go and feed the reindeer.
Bond: And I’ll get the sleighmobile then we’ll set off together.
Jingle: Together? Where?
Bond: Why, to go see Santa, of course!
Scene 6. Lapland. Christmas Eve. Santa Claus is giving last minute instructions to his Elves before taking off on his traditional mission.
Santa: Now, are you sure you’ve got all that now?
Elves: (In unison.) Yes, Santa!
Santa: Good presents for all the good little girls and boys, and bad presents for the naughty ones?
Elves: (In unison.) Yes, Santa!
Santa: And rock & roll music forever!
Elvis: Yes, Santa, uh huh, uh huh.
Head Elf: But Santa, we’ve seen the list for who’s naughty and the list for who’s nice, but what’s that other list you’ve got?
Santa: Aha, that is my special list for those around the world who desperately need it. Look, for Vladimir in Russia he gets a sense of mercy. For Donald in the USA he gets a sense of humility. And for Boris in Britain he just gets sense.
(There is a loud thump at the door.)
Santa: Now, who could that be?
(The door burst open and Grimm Scrooge enters, er, grimly. He is followed by his men Hans Kneesbumpsadaisy, Lars Vargas, Morton Blunder, etc.)
Grimm: Santa! Now you are within my power!
Santa: Ah, young Grimm, how you’ve grown. I remember when you were a boy I used to bring you those blow-up rubber models of-
Grimm: Yes, yes, but I’m all grown up now. I used to love Christmas- the goodwill, the presents, the tree, the turkey, even Mariah Carey- but I’ve grown to resent the increasing commercialisation of it I see everywhere. The rubbish toys, the awful television specials, the way shops start selling Christmas food and decorations in July.
Santa: Oh, but that’s just people being keen and eager to-
Grimm: Enough! I’m going to put an end to all that business right now. Santa, come with me.
(Poor Santa is led outside to stand on the snow outside his grotto. Grimm’s men have television cameras at the ready.)
Grimm: It’s time for you to meet your maker, Father Christmas. Do you have any last words?
Santa: Last words? You wouldn’t really try to kill- James Bond!
Grimm: I certainly would, but you’re not him.
Santa: No, look over your shoulder.
Grimm: Ha, you don’t think I’m going to fall for that old one.
Santa: No, seriously, look over your shoulder.
(Grimm suspiciously turns round to see a sleighmobile heading straight for him, with James Bond and Jingle Belle on board followed by her herd of reindeer. It stops just beside him.)
Bond: Looks like I’ve arrived just in time- but why are you trying to do this?
Grimm: Austerity, Mr. Bond. All my life, I've been in love with its dourness, its paucity, its divine sparseness. I welcome any enterprise that will reduce extravagance, the thriftless masses and the unbridled wanton lust for gold and precious metals. I intend to stop these urges for superficial commercial products, the craving for something for nothing, Santa Claus is the main culprit, he indoctrinates the young with free gifts from an early age, the passion of wanting more and more is instilled from at point - stop Santa and you stop profligacy!!
Bond: Time to put you on ice, Grimm Scrooge.
Grimm: And who’s going to stop me, you and whose army?
Bond: (With a little smile.) Santa’s army, of course. Look up.
(From the sky are falling hundreds, if not thousands, of Santas on parachutes jumping out of RAF planes. The reindeer look up and do a double take, as does a passing pigeon. The Santas land and quickly surround the real Santa. Grimm looks on in horror as he realises there is no way of identifying his true target.)
Grimm: Where did they come from?
Bond: Shops everywhere- malls, department stores, toy stores. Restaurants and bars. Every last one of them is determined to stop you and your evil plan.
Grimm: Get them!
(Grimm’s men struggle, but they are no match for the overwhelming onslaught of fat, bearded old men. Bond uses the explosive tinsel Q gave him, as well as the flamethrower. Jingle sends entire herds of reindeer. In no time, Grimm is defeated.)
Grimm: Curse, you, Bond. My plan was faultless, and I’d have gotten away with it too, if not for you meddling kids.
Bond: Err.. wrong franchise, Grimm. Santas- take him away!
Jingle: But where should they take him, James?
Bond: Well, obviously- take him ho ho home!
(Grimm and his men are led away.)
Jingle: Those guys- why are they here?
Bond: It’s CHRI-I-S-T-M-A-A-S!!!!
Santa: I can’t thank you enough, James.
Bond: Just doing my duty, Santa.
Santa: I remember when you were a boy, I used to bring you a packet of three-
Bond: (Quickly.) Yes, yes, you did, and thank you very much.
(The airplanes circle round again and drop objects on parachutes. The Santas look up in surprise as the objects turn out to be lavvos for them to take shelter in until their transport arrives. They automatically open once they land.)
Santa: (Singing.) Jingle Bells, Grimm Scrooge smells, James Bond saves the day!
(He stops singing as he spies Jingle Belle.)
Santa: Ah, my dear, you must be frozen.
Jingle: No, I’m not Anna, I’m Jingle Belle.
Santa: Of course. I know more about who’s been naughty and who’s been nice than British Intelligence- though admittedly that’s not hard- and I suspect I have far fewer double agents in my staff. If I found one I'd give him the sack! Besides, the Sami people are practically my neighbours - or Lapps as I still like to call you!
Bond: You can't know everything, sir. I still get presents every Christmas!
(Santa laughs. His laughter could put Brian Blessed to shame.)
Santa: I know you've both been naughty, but saving the world repeatedly weighs heavily in the 'nice' column. Not to mention just saving me and Christmas!
(For once Santa doesn't laugh. He turns to Jingle Belle again.)
Santa: I also know most of your reindeer herd was taken from you in the most un-Christmaslike fashion. After today you deserve a very big Christmas present: I have the world's largest reindeer herd outside. Before you leave you can pick out twice as many animals as you lost. Just don't take Rudolph!
(Jingle jumps into Santa's lap and kisses him deeply on the mouth before she returns to Bond.)
Santa: HO, HO, HO!
Bond: (Singing softly.) I saw Jingle kissing Santa Claus...
Jingle: James, I didn't know you were into Christmas?
Bond: Oh, yes, I remember one Christmas I had really well.
Jingle: And did you have a happy Christmas?
Bond: Yes, Christmas was very happy.
Santa: Well, It’s Christmas Eve and I have a lot of work to do, so it’s time for you two to find your lavvo.
(Bond and Jingle say goodbye to Santa and step outside.)
Bond: Lavvo?
Jingle: Yes, look over there.
(The tent reminded Bond of the teepees of the Native Americans that he had seen in countless westerns, but this was the Sami "lavvo". The similarity made a lot of sense since both the Sami and the high plains Native Americans traditionally were nomads. The tents structure was made from long poles that were easily taken down and transported. James Bond wasn't completely sure what the cover of the lavvo was made of, but he noticed how the reindeer outside avoided direct eye contact with the lavvo. It was probably a good thing the reindeer never went inside, because the ground around the warm fire was covered with soft reindeer rugs.)
Jingle: This must be our lavvo here.
Bond: How can you tell?
Jingle: It’s number 007.
Bond: We'd better get in, the forecast is for quite a few inches. (They enter.) Now, hang up your pretty stockings and turn off the light.
Jingle: I really can't stay.
Bond: But baby it's cold outside!
Jingle: But very warm in here! I’m going to make you forget about Christmas past- have you heard of my people’s traditional dance….?
Bond: Jingle Bells!
James Bond.... Daniel Radcliffe
Jingle Belle.....Emma Watson
Santa Claus.....Robbie Coltrane
Grimm Scrooge... Alan Rickman
Moana Lisa.... Shirley Henderson
Santajaws.... Toby Jones
M... Ralph Fiennes (obviously)
Miss Moneypenny... Clémence Poésy
Q.... Rupert Grint
Tanner.... Tom Felton
(James and Jingle are busy when there is a knock on the door of their tent- which is pretty impressive when you think about it.)
Santa: Er, James?
Bond: (Quickly rearranging his clothing.) Come in, Santa!
Santa: (Entering.) In all this excitement I forgot to ask you what you would like this Christmas.
Bond: Oh, that's obvious.
Santa: Well, what would you like?
Bond: I want you to go to Eon HQ, give Michael and Barbara a good kick up the arse, and tell them to get on with it!
THE END
but James Bond will be back in
LICENCE TO CHILL
I'd like to say a big "Thank You" to Number24 and CoolHandBond. We wrote the above story together and had much fun in so doing, so much fun that we're already thinking about doing another one!
In the meantime, I'm going to wait a day or two then plan to write another more standard Imaginary Conversation.
Without turning this into a backslapping event I would like to say thanks to Number 24 and our editor-in-chief Barbel for making this a fun experience. Getting three people from different countries and different time zones to get together and work without hitting lumps out of each other was something else entirely! 😜
Excellent. Very witty. Happy Christmas.
🎅🎅🍸️🍸️
I'd like to virtually slap CHB and Barbel's backs (as well as showing incredible flexibility by slapping my own back) and say writing Snowfall was a joyride. If the reader has half the fun reading it as we had writing it you're in for a very Bondian Christmas! 🎁😊🎄
Thanks, @chrisno1 and the same to you. 🎅
Henry Cavill: British actor will not return as Superman - BBC News
Henry Cavill dropped as Superman weeks after announcing return to role | Warner Bros | The Guardian
15th December 2022. The abode of Henry Cavill. He is pacing up and down.
Assistant: I do wish you’d sit down and relax, Mr Cavill.
Cavill: Relax? How can I relax?
(He keeps pacing.)
Assistant: Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you a nice cup of coffee?
Cavill: I just can’t believe it! They wait until I’ve announced that I’ll be returning as Superman and then, only then, do they tell me they’re dropping me!
Assistant: Yes, well-
Cavill: And not only that- they wait until I have announced that I will be quitting “The Witcher”! The timing is awful!
Assistant: Yes, sir, but walking up and down isn’t going to-
Cavill: I don’t want to get too far from the phone! The way my luck has been running recently, she’ll probably phone while I’m in the kitchen, or something.
Assistant: She, sir?
Cavill: Yes, she! There’s still a chance for me!
Assistant: But, sir, look at your achievements- there aren’t many actors who can claim to have played Superman AND Sherlock Holmes AND The Man From U.N.C.L.E. are there?
Cavill: But there’s one more part that I need. One more part that would be the jewel in my crown. I missed out on it once before, they said I was too young, and I damn well don’t want to miss out on it again!
Assistant: But-
(The telephone rings. Cavill launches himself towards it, faster than a speeding bullet, but the assistant is nearer.)
Assistant: Mr Cavill’s residence…. Whom shall I say is calling?…. A Ms Broccoli, I see, certainly madam, I’ll see if-
(Cavill wrenches the phone out of the assistant’s hand.)
Cavill: Hello, Ms Broccoli, how are you?…. Why, of course I’ll call you Barbara…. What’s that? Tomorrow morning… Yes, Barbara, I believe I can make that…. Fine, I’ll see you in the morning…. Morning…. Morning…
Cavill: Morning…. (He wakes up in his bed.) What? What did you say?
Assistant: I said good morning, Mr Cavill. I’ve brought your early morning tea.
Cavill: Oh crap, it was only a dream… Wait, tell me the first bit was only a dream and I’m still Superman!
Assistant: Alas. No, sir.
Cavill: Oh crapitty crap crap crap… Follow me with the tea, I’ll be pacing up and down next to the phone.
1971. Eon HQ, in a well-guarded complex somewhere in Nevada. Director Guy Hamilton is talking to producers Cubby Broccoli and Harry Saltzman.
Guy: Right, Harry and Cubby, I’m just about to prepare the final cut but there’s one scene I’m not sure of.
Harry: What do you mean, Guy?
Guy: I’m not sure if we’ll get away with it.
Cubby: Well, how about you show us the scene and we tell you our thoughts.
Guy: That’s what I was thinking. Let me just turn the lights down… and here we go.
The film starts, in the laboratory of Professor Doctor Metz in a well-guarded complex somewhere in Nevada. James Bond, in the guise of one Klaus Hergersheimer, has infiltrated the laboratory much to the annoyance of Professor Doctor Metz.
Metz: Now will you get out of here?
Bond: Certainly, Doctor. I’ve sheen everything I need to shee, thank you very much.
(As Bond leaves through one door, the real Klaus Hergersheimer enters through another.)
Hergersheimer: Hi, sorry to bother you. I’m Klaus Hergersheimer.
(Metz and his staff stop what they are doing.)
Hergersheimer: (A little uncertainly.) G Section.
(The scientists all stare at poor Klaus.)
Hergersheimer: (Very uncertainly.) Checking radiation shields?
(Bond walks briskly down a corridor, aware that his cover will shortly be blown. He sees a door labelled “WW Tectronics. Secure Area. ABSOLUTELY NO ENTRY WITHOUT AUTHORISATION.” so naturally he opens the door and enters. As the door softly closes behind him, the sign falls revealing another underneath.
Bond walks past doors with card entry systems preventing entrance, but he can see through small windows. The first one seems to show an operating theatre, but the patient on the table is very short, perhaps four feet, and has grey skin and large eyes.)
Bond: What the…?
(He searches his pockets for a small camera, but in vain, and makes a mental note to ask Q to issue such a camera as standard equipment- perhaps personalised might be good.
Wishing he had more time, he moves on to the second door and stares through the window. He is astonished to see a large disc shaped vessel, hovering a few feet above the ground as people look on.
His astonishment is cut short by a loud alarm, and he knows exactly what that means. The door he came through bursts open, and several guards rush through. Quickly he dives into the next room, not caring what is inside…. At first, anyway.
In this room are men dressed as astronauts, moving around a perfectly designed moonscape. Bond hides behind one of the rocks until the guards enter.)
Guard: There he is! Behind that rock!
(Bond dives out. The astronauts, still moving at slow speeds, are unable to stop him climbing onto a handy moon buggy and driving it out through a wall.)
Guy: Well, what do you think?
Cubby: I think we’ll all be shot.
Harry: Or get 30 years in Alcatraz.
Guy: (Disappointed.) So you want me to cut it, then?
Cubby: Damn right we do.
Guy: But you’re gonna love the moon buggy chase!
Harry: Then cut from the lab to the moon scene- and even that I’m scared about!
Nice one, Barbel 😁
1964. Jonathan Cape, Publishers. Ian Fleming walks in.
Publisher: Ah, Ian, good to see you. Have a seat.
Ian: Good morning. (Sits.)
Publisher: Can I offer you a cup of tea? Coffee perhaps?
(Fleming looks at him incredulously.)
Ian: How long have you been publishing my books, now?
Publisher: Oh, let me see, it’s about…. ah.
Ian: Yes?
Publisher: (Reluctantly.) Long enough for me to know better. Just give me a moment. (He walks to the drinks cabinet and begins mixing.) Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet… Anyway, I wanted to ask you something about this new book of yours.
Ian: “You Only Live Twice”, yes. What would you like to ask- remember to shake that, not stir it!
Publisher: Oh yes, sorry.
Ian: What would you like to ask me?
Publisher: Well, it’s about the scene in which a Japanese girl in a white bra and shorts gives James Bond a Japanese makeover- dyes his skin, works on his eyes, and so on. This is on Tiger Tanaka’s orders.
(He hands over the drink.)
Ian: Thank you. Yes, that scene- what about it?
Publisher: Are you sure about it?
Ian: Sure? What do you mean?
Publisher: Ah... well...
Ian: Oh, I know what it is. She doesn't take her bra off until the end of the scene- you want her to take it off sooner!
Publisher: No, not that. Well, it’s… it's...
Ian: Yes?
Publisher: You don’t think it might be… I don’t know… just a little…
Ian: Come on, man!
Publisher: (Tongue-tied at the thought of upsetting his best-selling author.) Ah, never mind. How’s your drink?
Ian: Oh, it was fine. Any chance of another?
1967. Eon HQ, in a golf club somewhere in S/E England. Roald Dahl sits hunched over a typewriter as Cubby Broccoli walks in.
Cubby: Hi Roald, how goes it today?
Roald: Oh fine, fine. I’m just writing the scene in which Bond gets a Japanese makeover on Tiger Tanaka’s orders.
Cubby: Yeah, that scene.
Roald: It’s just that…
Cubby: Yes?
Roald: You don’t think it might be… I don’t know… just a little…
Cubby: Lemme see.
(Cubby reads through the scene.)
Cubby: Ah right, right- I see what the problem is.
Roald: (Relieved.) You do?
Cubby: Yeah, you’ve only got one girl in a bikini, like in the book- change that, make it maybe five or six girls in bikinis.
(Cubby walks off.)
Roald: (Sighing.) Yes, Cubby.
I'm astonished that EON still lets Barbel have access to their archives! 😁
😁 I found some more....
1967. Shooting of “You Only Live Twice”. Director Lewis Gilbert, script in hand, is speaking with writer Roald Dahl.
Lewis: (Staring worriedly at script.) Are you sure about this, Roald?
Roald: I’ve been over it with Cubby, this is what he wants.
Lewis: Hmm. Well, okay.
(Lewis walks over to the set, Ken Adam’s idea of a cross between a beauty salon and an operating theatre. Cubby Broccoli is sitting there watching.)
Cubby: Right, Lewis, let’s get shooting. Time is money.
Lewis: Sure, Cubby, but there’s just this one thing in the script that-
Cubby: You’ve been over it with Roald? Then let’s start shooting. C’mon, I want to see all these babe in bikinis!
Lewis: Right… (He turns to his assistant.) Bill, would you like to ask Sean to join us?
Bill: Of course.
(Bill walks off. Lewis decides to try one last time.)
Lewis: Cubby, this scene where the girls try to disguise James Bond as a Japanese man...?
Cubby: Yeah, what about it?
Lewis: It’s just that I don’t see how they can do a convincing job of making a 6’2” former body builder like Sean Connery look like an average Japanese man.
Cubby: You’re the director, it’s your job to pull it off.
Lewis: Yes, but-
(Sean Connery joins them.)
Sean: Good morning, Lewish. (Pointedly ignoring Cubby.)
Lewis: Hi Sean, have you read the script for today?
Sean: All I have to do ish lie there- no problem!
Lewis: Not that- I’m worried about how this scene will look in the future.
Cubby/Sean: (Together.) In the future? (They realise they have spoken together and look away, embarrassedly.)
Lewis: I think that in years to come we might regret including this scene.
Sean: In yearsh to come I’m gonna regret all of theshe shcenesh.
Cubby: Look, Lewis, I’ll tell you what. Just do the scene then over the next couple of scenes gradually show less of the Japanese makeover until it’s gone- do it over about ten minutes and we never see it again. How does that sound?
Lewis: (Sighing.) Yes, all right. That should do it.
Cubby: And we’ll never hear anyone complain about it ever, I promise you.
🤣🤣🤣
:-) :-) :-)
Sean Connery: Shimple Japaneshe fisherman, you've got to be joking!
Basil Newall and Paul Rabiger: We never joke about our make-up applications, darling!
Glad you liked that, guys!
2012. Eon HQ, inside a mushroom-shaped rock somewhere off S/E Asia. Producers Michael G. Wilson and Barbara Broccoli, director Sam Mendes, and writers Neal Purvis & Robert Wade are in conference.
MGW: “Think On Your Sins”.
Mendes: “The Dead Are Alive”.
BB: Too Biblical for us.
Wade: “The End Of M”.
MGW: That gives too much away.
Mendes: “Goodbye, Judi”?
BB: That’s even worse!
Mendes: All right, you think of one then.
BB: “Hello Everybody, Moneypenny And Q Are Back”.
MGW: Be serious, Barbara.
Purvis: “From Istanbul To Scotland”.
Mendes: It’s dull.
Wade: “Well, It’s Better Than The Last One”.
MGW/BB/Mendes/Purvis: No!!!!
Wade: (Defensively.) It’s accurate!
MGW: Too accurate. “Bond Goes Home”.
BB: No, we don’t want to include his name in the title.
Purvis: “M Gets In Trouble”.
BB: And we don’t want to include anyone else’s name, either!
Purvis: Why not? Eon had great success with “Dr No”, “Goldfinger”, “Octopussy”…
BB: Just… no!
Mendes: How about “Cain vs Abel”?
MGW: The Bible, again?
Mendes: No, hear me out. M is a metaphorical mother to both Bond and Silva, and those two are fighting, so it’s as if they are brothers fighting each other!
(Purvis and Wade stare at each other, then quickly start scribbling in their notebooks. "Two brothers...")
BB: I don’t think so.
MGW: Me neither- Robert, Neal, what are you two doing?
Wade: Just…er, just jotting down ideas.
Purvis: For the next time, maybe.
BB: Never mind the next time, we’re trying to come up with a title for this time!
MGW: That’s right, and we’ll wait here until the sky falls!
BB: What?
MGW: What?
BB: What did you say, Michael?
MGW: I asked Neal and Robert what they were doing.
BB: No, no, after that.
MGW: I can’t remember now.
BB: Damn, I thought we had it there.
(Everyone pauses.)
Mendes: “Shatterhand”?
MGW: Nah….
Merry Christmas, everyone!
Merry Christmas!
Seasons greetings!
You get the turkey, and I'll get the cranberry sauce...
That's good thinking...
A Christmas cracker should do us fine for openers...
That's very good thinking...
After a well-deserved break, Imaginary Conversations will be back very shortly with a story called "For Your Eiffel Only" written by (in alphabetical order) Barbel, CoolHandBond, Number 24, Thunderpussy.
We'd have liked to include lots of illustrations but https://www.ajb007.co.uk/discussion/55709/site-outage-january-2023 so we won't. Hope you enjoy it!
Pre-Credits Sequence
Paris. The “Pam Door” awards. Two limousines draw up before the shouting crowds. Eva Green emerges from one, Olga Kurylenko from the other. They eye each other up mercilessly as they walk to the stairs, smiles fixed as they wave to the crowds.
Eva: You first, Olga, age before beauty.
Olga: No, no, you first, so I can catch you when your arthritis kicks in.
Eva: Oh, your face still works after all those operations, then?
Olga: And so does yours. Both of them.
(They raise their arms to wave, before turning to the stairs. Unseen by them, a large electromagnet falls from overhead and, attracted by their jewellery, pulls them up and through the air.)
Cannes. The “Golden Croissant” awards. Lea Seydoux is just coming to the end of her 47th interview that day.
Lea: ….so they asked me, and I thought, why not?
Interviewer: It was the first time that this has happened, n’est pas?
Lea: Mais oui, this is true.
Interviewer: And do you think you will be back in the next one?
Lea: Who knows? Never say never again.
Interviewer: Mesdames et messieurs, Lea Seydoux!
(As Lea warmly smiles and acknowledges the applause, her chair suddenly swivels into the wall. Another chair swivels out to replace the first one, but it is… empty.)
Paris d’encore. The “Quelle Merde” awards. Berenice Marlohe comes out from the doors to wave to the waiting crowd.
Berenice: Oh, merci, merci.
(She is scooped up by a large net which appears out of nowhere and carries her away.)
---------------------------------------------
AJB007 presents
For Your Eiffel Only
by (in alphabetical order)
Barbel, CoolHandBond, Number 24, Thunderpussy
-------------------------------------------------
Act 1, Scene 1
Somewhere in Paris…just outside France (With thanks to the great Ernie Wise)
A group of women sit around a huge circular table in a meeting room with a low ceiling and sloping walls.
Lucie Fur: The first part of the plan has gone exceedingly well. Ladies, any questions?
Number 3: Yes, what is the next stage of Operation Cover Up?
Lucie: Mordache is looking after the next phase of the operation. The aim, as you know, is to stop all these French actresses from undressing in every scene they’re in! We are going to plant a bomb at a secret location and demand these nudity clauses are deleted from movie contracts so that we decent actresses (Looks at Number 15 and rolls her eyes.) can get roles without stripping off! These four “actresses” will be next to the bomb.
Number 8: (Putting a hand to her mouth.) A bo…!
Lucie: No, not a bo… a bomb.
(A giant of a man enters, followed by some guards who lead the four kidnapped actresses into the meeting room.)
Lucie: Ah! The four brazen hussies. Not so sexy and glamorous now, are you? Now you are part of my magnificent-
Olga: It’s all Eva’s fault.
Eva: Hark at you, as if you never-
Olga: Me?
Lucie: (Looking angry.) Now you are part of my-
Eva: Yes, you, who do you think?
Lucie: You are part of-
Olga: At least I do think, unlike you.
Lucie: Now I have you in my-
Olga: La pute!
Eva: Vieille sorciere!
(Eva stamps on Olga’s foot and Olga lets out a piercing yell.)
Lucie: Ugh! Take them away!
(The guards lead the four back to their cells, Olga and Eva bickering the whole time.)
Lucie: (Trying hard to compose herself.) Mordache, can you update us on how the operation is going, please?
Mordache: The bomb has been planted. Petit Boulot and myself have taken personal responsibility to ensure your instructions have been carried out to the letter, ma’am.
Lucie: You followed my plan implicitly?
Mordache: Yes, it was all on the French letter you gave me.
(Number 7 stifles a giggle.)
Lucie: You translated French into English with no problem?
Mordache: Yes, Number 7 was very good in helping me, I would say she’s an expert in French Polishing… umm… helpng me gen up on the French language, I mean.
(Number 7 giggles again, blushing.)
Lucie: Right, everything is going as planned- ARSE is in business!
Number 18: ARSE?
Number 12: It’s an acronym. Actresses Refusing to Strip Entirely. ARSE.
Number 15: I thought we were trying to stop showing our arses?
Lucie: (Head in hands.) Oh, dear God. Right, listen we need to look out for James Bond. MI6 will send him to hunt us down. He’s easily recognisable, always wears a tux wherever he goes. We reconvene tomorrow.
-------------------------------------------------
Act 1, Scene 2
Moneypenny’s office. She is busy at her word processor when a hand appears round the door and throws a beanie, accurately, at an almost disused hatstand in the corner. She looks up happily.
Bond: A pleasure to see you, Moneypenny.
Moneypenny: Just to see me?
Bond: That reason is more than good enough for me.
Moneypenny: Same old James. (He pinches her bottom as she gets up to the filing cabinet.) Only more so! You have to cut that out, this isn’t 1969 any more.
Bond: Care to discuss 69 round my place tonight?
Moneypenny: No I do not. Now, better get in to see M- he’s been expecting you.
(Bond enters M’s office.)
M: Ah there you are, 007. Good to see you back from all those nasty missile explosions, several bullet wounds, and that nanobot business, although looking a little different may I say?
Bond: That last mission… nearly killed me! Are you wanting me to look into the tax affairs of members of the cabinet, sir?
M: Not today, no.
Bond: Large loans to former Prime Ministers and the chairmanship of the BBC, perhaps? Bullying allegations against senior ministers? The ramifications of non-dom status for-
M: No, no, nothing like that. What do you know about French actresses, 007?
Bond: Not as much as I’d like to, sir. What’s been happening?
M: It seems that several high-profile French actresses have been kidnapped, very publicly.
Bond: Is someone looking for a ransom?
M: No, that’s the odd thing. There have been no demands at all.
Bond: I suppose it’s possible that the person behind this is simply a form of deranged collector- one who collects the real thing, rather than photographs or models?
M: That’s what you’re going to find out- you leave for France tonight.
Bond: France is a big place- do we have any leads, sir?
M: No, but I do have an idea. Go and see Q before you leave.
Bond: Yes, sir.
Q’s lab. Q is working away as Bond walks in.
Bond: Morning, Q.
Q: Good morning, 007. What shoe size are you?
Bond: Shoe size?
Q: Yes, what shoe size are you?
Bond: Q, you said I was a Size 9.
Q: Yes, but that was back when you were Daniel-…… er, that was some some time ago. What size are you now?
Bond: I’m a Size 11.
Q: (Writing that down.) Size 11. And bust size, er, I mean, chest size?
Bond: (Beginning to get confused.) I’m 38 inches.
Q: (Continues writing.) You’re a 38… (Examines Bond carefully.) ….C, I would say. Yes, definitely a 38C.
Bond: Q, what on Earth are you going on about?
Q: Instructions from M, 007. I’ve to get you properly fitted out before you leave on your mission.
Bond: Properly fitted out? Q, this is all wrong. This is the time when you give me an explosive wristwatch, or a car that flies, or a submarine in a briefcase, or-
Q: (Working on a computer screen.) Yes, yes, I know.
Bond: Wait a minute, you needed my shoe size- I know, you’ve got a set of flying boots for me with rockets firing from each side?
Q: Oh no, not at all.
Bond: Then shoes armed with a stiletto?
Q: (Chuckling.) Ah… yes, yes, you could say that.
Bond: Huh?
Q: Perhaps this may give you a clue, 007.
(Q points at the computer screen. Bond looks at it. He’s bewildered at first, then as he begins to understand an expression of horror comes over his face.)
Bond: Oh no, no- you can’t be serious!
Q: M’s orders, 007. M’s orders.
--------------------------------------------
Act 1, Scene 3
A tailor in London. James Bond enters.
Tailor: Ah, good afternoon, sir.
Bond: Good afternoon, Tom.
Tailor: Tom? Have we met, sir?
Bond: Yes, of course we’ve met. It’s me.
(Tom shakes his head doubtfully.)
Tom: I don’t think so…
Bond: It’s me. Bond. James Bond.
Tom: Mr Bond? But you were shorter, and your hair was… (Light dawns.) Ah, of course! Mr Bond! How nice to see you again, sir.
Bond: I’d have thought you’d be used to it after all this time.
Tom: Yes, of course, it’s just that I heard that you had been… never mind. What can I do for you, Mr Bond? A nice tight suit? A black sweater, perhaps?
Bond: No, I-
Tom: A black bow tie then? A white dinner-
Bond: No, nothing like that. It’s… Oh God…. It’s this.
(He reaches into his pocket and reluctantly produces the design Q has given him.)
Tom: Let me see. Ah…..
(Bond shifts his feet uncomfortably.)
Tom: Are you sure this is the correct design, Mr Bond?
Bond: Yes, I’m afraid it is. Is there a problem?
Tom: Oh no, no, we can certainly make this. It might take a little longer than usual, I’m afraid.
Bond: That’s all right. (Sighs.) I’m in no hurry.
------------------------------------------------
To be continued...
@Thunderpussy, @Number24 , @CoolHandBond
Act 2, Scene 1
M’s office. Bond is looking in a mirror in M's private office bathroom while pulling on a brunette wig,...
Bond: It rubs the ointment on its skin...
M: What's that, Bond?
Bond: Just something Q told me when he gave me the make up cream, said it really helped him out with that salty spray in Portsmouth.
M: Oh, I didn't know he sailed?
Bond: No, he just had a weekend there with a couple of sailor friends.
(M nods and looks at a bra.)
M: Looking good, Bond.
Bond: Feeling good sir, in fact better than I imagined!
M: Those stockinged legs, long hair, firm breasts and full lips..... You certainly remind me of my Mother.
Bond: Eh? Thank you sir.
M: I bet you'll turn a few heads.
Moneypenny: (Passing with a file.) ...And a few stomachs too, no doubt!
M: Seeing you like this, I can't help feeling a swelling.....
Bond: Sorry sir? (Raises an eyebrow.)
M: ...of pride in Britain. Of course we've made a few mistakes – Boris, Brexit, Liz Truss (Bond, M, and Moneypenny all race for the toilet bowl.)- but I think you'll save us once again. Now come to my desk for some equipment.
(Bond follows, a little wobbly on his high heels.)
M: By the way, I hope you didn't blow the budget on that case full of lingerie.
Bond: Oh no sir, I'm staying with Tanner and walked in to his bedroom one evening and his closet was full of it, all colours and styles. He said it was for research.
M: Strange, we didn't plan this till yesterday.
Moneypenny: It’s amazing what you find in Tanner’s closet.
M: Or coming out of it. Still, here is a Beretta .22.
Bond: Nice and light in a lady's handbag.
M: And we've put together this tidy little kit, a radio compact and an atomiser, which you must never touch!
Bond: Why not, sir?
M: It's a gift for my wife and very expensive. Now, here are your travel documents and cover name for Paris.
Bond: Fanny Le Fifi, burlesque dancer and plumber (weekdays only). It will be nice to visit Paris again. Last time I was there was as a protection officer for Nigel Farage. I remember walking along the Seine, I on the left bank, he on the right.
M: He was always a little to the right. By the way, Bond, now that you're a female as per policy we'll be cutting your wages by 30%. Also, could you get me a cup of coffee and just run a duster around the office before you leave?
----------------------------------------------------
Act 2, Scene 2
On the Train, Pt 1
(Bond enters the ladies toilets.)
Bond: A good cover becomes second nature.
(Through force of habit he stands in a stall as the attendant looks across.)
Attendant: Psst!
Bond: Certainly not, I haven't had a drink all day.
Attendant: This is for ladies only, mate. (She is an East end attendant, in fact looking remarkably similar to Del Boy.)
Bond: And so is this, but sometimes I have to use it to pee. (He tucks "Little James" back in.)
Attendant: Oh, Bonnet de Douche.
Bond: It was an inspiration you coming here.
Attendant: Mange Tout.
Bond: And you’re twice as lovely in the blue light from the fly killer.
Attendant: Pot Pourri! (Blushing.) It's impossible, knowing you only two minutes and all I can think of is how we would be together.
Bond: Just let it happen, I'll be back and tell you all about myself in the morning.
(In a while Bond exits, leaving the smitten attendant.)
Attendant: Creme de la menthe! (She blushes again, looking in the mirror.)
On the train, Pt 2
Bond gets a drink and sits at a table looking out the train window, as a young man sits beside him.
Man: Hello, Madame.
Bond: Mademoiselle.
Man: This may sound strange, but I need your help.
Bond: Pardon?
Man: If you look under the table you'll see my credentials.
Bond: I'm not falling for that old one........ again. That would be twice today!
Man: No please look, I'm serious.
Bond: Very well, but if this is just another flash, I'll be so annoyed.
(Bond looks down.)
Bond: Oh, I see you’re Jewish.
Man: Yes, they put loads of information on I.D. cards these days.
Bond: As you've shown me yours I'd better show you mine. Look under the table, I too have a surprise for you.
(The man looks down.)
Man: Oh my god, I'm gonna be sick! (Grabs a sick bag and throws up.)
Bond. Sorry I don't know how that got down there. (Pulls out a small photo of Liz Truss.)
I use it instead of thinking of cricket scores and dead kittens.
Man: It was a bit of a shock.
Bond: Here, look again.
Man: Wow, that's a big one and so thick.
Bond: Yes, MI6 does have bigger I.D. cards than the CIA.
Man: But why so thick?
Bond: MI6 heating vouchers- times are tough. So you're Ethan Hunt, then.
Hunt: Yes, Mr Bond.
Bond: Ssh, I'm in disguise.
Hunt: Oh, I thought it was a British weekend thing. Now look, we're in a spot of trouble. I know this will sound very silly to an agent of your calibre, but we've lost a hard drive with the names of all our embedded agents worldwide plus a famous painting from the director's office- " Impression Sunrise". Can you believe that could happen!
Bond: (Turning to look out of the window.) More often than you'd think. (Aloud.) Yes that does sound careless, impossible almost. So you want the hard drive back. What about the painting?
Hunt: Does it look like we need the Monet? I was hoping for your help.
Bond: Sorry, I'm on a mission myself- you don’t think I’m dressed like this for fun, do you?
Hunt: Good luck, Bond, I'll try the next carriage. You wouldn't believe it but I think I saw Jason Bourne talking to Jack Ryan. One dressed as a clown and the other in a full gorilla suit.
Bond: (Nervously smiling.) I can believe it. Again, it happens more often than you might think…..
(As Ethan walks away a young waiter approaches Bond.)
Waiter: Madame, would you like a complementary Crepe made with my mother's famous fudge recipe?
Bond: (In his unconvincing “female” voice.) It's Mademoiselle, and no thank you.
Waiter: Sure? A big boned girl like yourself, no stranger to a fish supper?
Bond: No thanks.
Waiter: Look, it's only wafer thin.
(Bond grabs the waiter’s lapels and speaks in his normal voice.)
Bond: Get these Mother fudging Crepes off this Mother fudging train!
Waiter: But I wanted to cover you in sponge fingers, custard and whipped cream!
Bond: Stop- I won't be trifled with.
(The waiter scurries off to talk to his friend.)
2nd Waiter: How did it go?
1st Waiter: Not well, I noticed she had a copy of Playboy in her bag.
2nd Waiter: Ah, no luck then.
1st Waiter: Not a glimmer.
To be continued....
looks like James Bond got reinvented!
Well, someone had to do it! 😁
Act 3, Scene 1
Paris. Outside the Corona Pathe film studio.
Rene Mathis: Mon Dieu, James! When the people at MI6 said you 'ave changed they weren't exaggerating...
Bond: Thank you for fixing this rendezvous for me on such short notice, Mathis. The mission requires me to establish my cover as an up-and-coming French movie star.
Mathis: Why must you go undercover as an actress? Aren't there female agents in MI6?
Bond: For some reason our female agents always choose to change careers to secretary after meeting me. Beside I'm always the best, and Q and Tanner were excited by the idea.
Mathis: You're meeting Carpé Liquer, probably the only major female French movie star who hasn't been in an English-language spy franchise since 2006. The movie studio has agreed to make a trailer and poster for a fake movie titled "La vie d'Lea - parte 3 & 4". The studio needed some government support after their big budget movies "Eiffel" and "Asterix and the Pirates" bombed.
Bond: Excellent! Is that all it takes to be a movie star?
Mathis: Of course not! Afterwards there are photoshoots with Mlle Liquer for some major magazines! You're not a star when the audience say so. You're a star when the studio and magazines say you are!
Bond: Thank you, Mathis. You're the kind of friend no-one would ever think of throwing in a dumpster.
(Bond enters the studio. Everyone smokes, including the child actors. He finds Carpé Liquer on the Christophe Lambert Stage, formerly the Gerard Depardieu Stage and the Brigitte Bardot Stage before that. When Bond spots Carpé Liquer he discovers she is very beautiful even by the standards of French actresses. She is in fact so indescribably beautiful we won't describe her here.)
Carpé: Merde! (Takes a puff from her cigarette.) Are you telling me you want me to wear this costume in the next scene?
Director: The costume is made by one of France's most exclusive fashion brands. I'm sorry if it isn't expensive enough for you, Mlle Liquer.
Carpé: The costume is expensive enough, but I have my rights!
Director: I'm sorry, what rights do you mean?
Carpé: My right to do nude scenes!
Director: What? But you're taking out the garbage in this scene!
Carpé: As a Canadian director I can see why you're not familiar with the standard contract of the French Actresses Guild.
(Carpé whips out a document from a purse that probably cost more per square inch than a London City flat. She points at one of the paragraphs.)
Carpé: Read Section 6, Paragraph 5!
Director: "French actresses have the right to appear naked in any scene they want to, regardless of whether the scene requires it or not". I'm sorry, I didn't know...
Carpé: (Raising her fist in triumph.) Égalité, liberté, nudité!
(She undresses, then flicks away her cigarette. From behind the camera Bond watches the scene being shot with great interest and decides he is now a big fan of French cinema. When the scene is finished Carpé lights a fresh cigarette, dons a bath robe and walks over to Bond. Bond quickly picks up his jaw from the floor.)
Carpé: Bonjour. My name is Carpé Liquer.
Bond: (In his normal voice.) My name is Bond, James B.… Ahem. (He forces out an unconvincing falsetto, even more unconvincing than Pierce Brosnan’s singing in “Mamma Mia!”) Fanny Le Fifi.
Carpé: (Mumbles.) The standards of French cinema are dropping fast.... (Smiles.) Don't worry, Mister Bond. Mathis has informed me of your mission.
Bond: Are you worried your movie isn't good enough?
Carpé: The director is talented, but if this one bombs he'll be sorry.
Bond: I'm sure he will be.....
(Later Carpe, Bond as Fanny Le Fifi and the director are standing in front of a large computer screen in the studio. Everyone is smoking.)
Director: (Gesticulating enthusiastically.) Perfect! This is how the poster for "La vie d'Lea" will look. It's so original it will be impossible to copy.
(The poster shows Carpe is framed by "Fifi's" shaved legs and Carpe is kneeling wrapped in a French flag and holding a baguette that is very reminiscent of a .... cucumber? Car? Train? Snake? Gun? It's not one of those, but Bond was sure it would come to him in a minute. At the top of the screen the title "La vie d'Lea - parte 3 & 4" was written in blue on the back of Bond's thong. Bond nervously took a puff from his cigarette and immediately started coughing.)
Bond: Pardon. I haven't smoked since 2002.
(Carpe and the director turn and look as shocked at “Fifi” as if she just said she was really a man.)
Director: This poster with the trailer we just shot must be released on the internet right this second. This will make you a movie star all over France, Mlle Fifi!
(The director turns to the whole crew and claps with great enthusiasm.)
Director: And now, a short lunch!
(Three hours later everyone is finishing up their lunch.)
Bond: That was exquisite! I wonder if lunches on movie sets are always like this?
Carpe: In France, oui. Unfortunately standards are lower in other countries. The worst I've experienced was early in my career. I was in a Norwegian movie. Apparently catering is seen by the Norwegians as punishment for not bringing your own lunch, usually sandwiches of whole grain bread topped with brown cheese in a paper bag. (Shudders). They call it 'niste'. The catering was so bad I started bringing my own niste near the end of the shoot. If they hadn't offered me an extra nude scene I would've quit the movie....
(The photoshoots for magazines. The photographers wisely focus on Bond's long legs and his long wig, but mostly everything is on Carpe.
Half-naked Carpe is reading "Swann's Way" by Marcel Proust. Bond is showing his long legs while reading "Asterix and the Great Crossing".)
Photographer: Good, but we need Mlle Fifi to show some skin too. We can't have Carpe having all the perks, n'est-ce pas?.
Bond: (Suddenly very nervous.) I can't! Because....... I haven't shaved everything!
Photographer: Don't worry. We're in France, it's not necessary.
Bond: But... But.... I don't want to!
Photographer: (Looking both shocked and suddenly more than a little suspicious.) Don't you want to undress? Are you sure you're really a French actress?
(Everyone in the room turns to Bond and looks very mistrustful.)
Bond: Okay... (With a more feminine voice.) d'accord. (He starts very slowly to drop his clothes. Bond wishes a hole would open up under him and the earth would swallow him whole. Suddenly a hole opens up under Bond and the earth seems to swallow him whole.)
--------------------------------------------------------------
Act 3, Scene 2
A secret location. The previous kidnap victims are sitting around in their locked room.
Eva: This is terrible! Will no-one come and save us?
Olga: That is so typical- “Will no-one come and save us?” Ha!
Eva: Always someone else’s fault with you, isn’t it?
Berenice: Oh be quiet you two, that is not helping.
Lea: Yes, you are right.
Olga: We must think of a way to save ourselves. Now, let me think….
(The door opens and a figure dressed as a woman is shoved brutally into the room.)
Eva: Oh, no, someone else is joining us.
Berenice: What’s your name, you poor thing?
Bond: (For, of course, it is he.) Bond, Ja…. er….
Olga: Bonja?
Lea: What a beautiful name!
Bond: No, my name is Bond, James Bond.
(There is a moment’s silence, then the four actresses all burst out laughing.)
Olga: Oh, come on!
Lea: You’re him?
Eva: James Bond?
Berenice: You must be joking!
Bond: No, honestly, I’m James Bond. I’ve come to save you.
Lea: Come to save us?
Eva: That’s not why James Bond usually comes.
Berenice: How can you be James Bond?
Olga: You’ve changed since I last saw you!
Bond: No, listen… In fact, look!
(Bond quickly pulls off the wig, kicks off the stiletto heels, and pulls the padding out from his bra.)
Olga: You’re a man!
Eva: No ****, Sherlock.
Bond: That’s what I’ve been trying to-
Lea: No way are you James Bond!
Bond: What?
Lea: You’re much too tall, for one thing.
Berenice: And your hair’s too dark.
Bond: It would take a long time to explain- in fact, it would take eons to explain (A faint rimshot is heard from somewhere.)- but I really am James Bond and I really am here to save you.
Eva: Well, you’re not making a very good job of it so far. We’re all locked up in here together with no way out.
Bond: Don’t worry, I-
Olga: Quick, someone’s coming!
(Bond reapplies his increasingly less convincing disguise just in time as a very large guard opens the door and points at him.)
Guard: You!
Bond: (Very unconvincing falsetto voice again.) Who, me?
Guard: Yes, you. Come with me!
Bond: But of course.
(Bond follows the guard out the door. Once the guard has locked the door, Bond slips the keys off his belt and throws them back into the room.)
Berenice: Oh!
Eva: Did you see that?
Olga: Did you see the way he did that?
Lea: He really is James Bond!
Eva: Don’t just stand there talking- grab those keys and let’s get out of here!
(The four actresses do just that.)
Act 3, Scene 3
Bond follows the huge 7’6’’ guard down a corridor.
Bond: You remind me of someone else. What’s your name?
Guard: Mordache. My cousin used to be a henchman before he got involved with a girl with braces.
Bond: Tomboy, was she?
Mordache: Braces on her teeth, stupid.
(Bond and Mordache enter a room with low ceilings and sloping walls. Behind a futuristic looking desk is a glamorous woman. She points to a chair in front of her desk and beckons Bond to sit. Mordache stands behind Bond, ready to pounce should he try to make a move.)
Lucie: Good evening. I am Lucie Fur.
Bond: A woman?
Lucie: Your powers of observation do you credit…..Mr. Bond! It takes more than a few props to turn into a woman, though. Your previous attempt of wearing a skirt didn’t fool Blofeld in Switzerland.
Bond: (Shouting angrily) Kilt!
Lucie: There’s no need to swear, Mr. Bond.
Bond: What is all this about?
Lucie: Nudity. Nudity and French actresses. All they do is strip off in every movie. They get all the best parts because decent actresses will not go naked in front of the camera. It’s time we made a stand and put a stop to this degenerate behaviour.
Bond: Personally, I cannot agree, all French actresses are ooh la la!
Lucie: You’re a sexist, misogynistic dinosaur. A relic of the Colonel Klebb era. Anyway, I’m fighting back- a bomb will explode on the set of ‘’Eiffel’’ the first of many such displays of terror I have planned against movie producers and those ghastly French actresses!
Mordache: (Raising his hand.) Umm…did you say…movie set?
Lucie: Yes, movie set.
Mordache: Umm…we thought you meant the real Eiffel Tower!
Lucie: You what?
Mordache: (Reddening.) We thought you meant the real Eiffel Tower and so we… we put the bomb...
Lucie: You idiots! Take Bond back to his cell.
(Mordache grabs Bond and hauls him back down the corridor to the cell. Mordache stands dumbfounded as he sees the cell door open and the girls have gone, with the keys still in the lock. He looks at Bond and for the first time shows a set of metal teeth. Evading Mordache’s outstretched arms Bond does a fast twirl and the hem of his dress rises showing that he hasn’t forgotten what isn’t worn under a kilt! A look of horror etches onto Mordache’s face as he sees what’s under the dress and Bond executes a neat karate kick with his stiletto heeled shoe and knocks Mordache into the cell and slams the door shut, turning the key.)
Mordache: (Looking through the bars.) It’s true!
Bond: As true as what’s the difference between Meghan and the Eiffel Tower. (Bond turns to go.)
Mordache: Wait! I got’s to know!
Bond: Wrong franchise, but…
(Bond whispers the punchline and Mordache’s eyes open wide, he grins and shows his set of metal teeth.)
Bond: I got that from Jeremy Clarkson.
(Bond heads for the exit and the Eiffel Tower, with the sound of raucous laughing echoing in his ears.)
--------------------------------------------
Act 3, Scene 4
Paris. Still in his increasingly unconvincing female garb, Bond races out into the street and hails a taxi.
Driver: Que voulez-vous, ma cherie?
Bond: La Tour Eiffel, et vite!
Driver: Bien sur.
(As they race through the streets, Bond quickly decides to change into his more usual clothing which fortunately he had hidden. He also decides that switching to English is a lot more convenient.)
Driver: Hey, weren’t you a lady when you came in?
Bond: Could be,
Driver: I tend to notice little things like that.
Bond: Just get me to the Tower!
Driver: Okay, okay.
(At the Tower, Bond speedily pays off the driver.)
Driver: Hey, are you sure you weren’t a lady earlier?
Bond: (Speaks very slowly and clearly.) No, I’m definitely a man. Definitely. (Looks aside.) Did you get that, Michael and Barbara?
(He heads in to the Tower. Evading the huge queue waiting at the lift, he begins to race up the stairs.)
Bond: (Puffing and panting.) Phew, this is hard work- a good thing I’m not doing this at nearly 60 years old, that would be completely unbelievable. Hey, what’s that?
(Through a nearby window, he spots a man with a large moustache lying apparently dead in a bowl of soup. What appears to be a butterfly is stuck to his neck.)
Bond: That seems somehow familiar…. But no time to lose, must get to the top!
(As Bond emerges at the top, he sees Lucie Fur standing with Carpe in her arms. She is holding a gun to Carpe’s head.)
Bond: Carpe!
Lucie: No further, Mr Bond.
Carpe: I’m all right, James, just stop her!
Bond: Listen to me, Lucie, this isn’t what you wanted. This is the real Tower, you wanted your bomb set off on a film set.
Lucie: I know, but then it seemed that this would be even greater publicity for my campaign.
Carpe: But that’s all too much just to stop French actresses taking their clothes off!
Lucie: No! Do you have any idea how envious I am of how cultured and high-brow French actresses seem?
Bond: It seems to me you’re in love with them!
Lucie: Of course not! I want the respect they all get!
Bond: Then why let this bomb go off? Speaking of which, where is it, anyway?
Lucie: Oh, it’s just over- No!
Bond: Thank you for that, Lucie. This box here, then?
(The elevator behind them makes a faint ‘ding’.)
Lucie: (Pulling a control box out with her free hand.) Very clever, Mr Bond, but you can’t move fast enough to stop me pressing this button, and if you make one false move I’ll blow this lady’s head off.
Carpe: Don’t listen to her, James- we’ll all be dead anyway! Go ahead and get the bomb!
Lucie: Ha! Your fatal weakness, Mr Bond. The girl or the mission?
(Suddenly the elevator doors open and Eva, Olga, Berenice, and Lea all spill out. They swarm all over Lucie, freeing Carpe and taking away the control box.)
Lucie: No! Give me back that box!
Olga: No way- wasn’t it a great idea of mine to come up here, ladies?
Eva: Your idea? Why you-
(As they bicker, Lucie make a mad lunge for the control box. Like lightning, Bond leaps for the bomb and throws it over the side. It explodes harmlessly in midair.)
Lucie: Nooooo!
(She leaps over the side after her bomb. Bond tries to grab her, but falls too. Carpe makes a desperate lunge.)
Carpe: James!
(Falling, Bond notices a black and yellow parachute stowed under the top platform, clearly there for years as a backup. He grabs hold of it, and manages to strap it on while Carpe clings desperately to him. He opens it just in time.)
Carpe: Oh, James!
(The parachute brings them safely to land on a strange-looking vessel.)
Carpe: We’re safe!
Bond: (Looking around.) Yes, but where are we?
Carpe: I think I recognize this- it was used in the film “Asterix And the Pirates”. It’s the pirate ship.
Bond: Ah, right.
(They embrace. As the kiss, the ship slowly sinks into the river.)
Carpe: James, I'm getting all wet.
Bond: But of course you are, darling.
Carpe: No, the ship- it's going down!
Bond: Now there's a good idea....
THE END