The Godfather version you mention was personally re-edited by Coppola and had both deleted scenes reinserted and specially shot scenes (at least one to my knowledge but there may have been more). I thoroughly enjoyed it, but I don't believe (could be wrong) that version ever made it to DVD or Blu-ray.
2023. Eon HQ, inside a submarine near Japan. An elegant dark-haired woman in a white robe lounges on a couch. An elderly man with a beard lounges on an adjacent couch.
BB: Purvis! Come here at once!
(Purvis enters, on his knees and rubbing his hands.)
Purvis: You called, Ms Broccoli, madame?
BB: Peel me another grape, and be quick about it.
Purvis: Yes, Ms Broccoli, anything you say, Ms Broccoli.
(He goes to the pantry, where he finds Wade rummaging through the shelves.)
Wade: Hello, Neal.
Purvis: What are you here for, Robert?
Wade: Mr Wilson sent me for a grape.
Purvis: Ah, that’s what I’m here for too.
(They search ...er… fruitlessly.)
Wade: I think we’ve run out.
Purvis: Oh, God, do you want to tell him?
Wade: I’ll do that, but you have to tell HER!
(Purvis pales at the thought. They look at each other then walk towards the main room.)
BB: What’s taking you so long, Purvis?
Purvis: Sorry, Ms Broccoli, but… but… it seems we have run out of grapes.
BB: What??? How is this possible???
MGW: (Opening a letter.) Hmmm, I think I know what has happened. This is a letter from the greengrocer- our last cheque to him has bounced.
BB: Bounced??? Why??? Our James Bond films make millions!
MGW: Yes, but your films “The Rhythm Section” and “Film Stars Don’t Die In Liverpool” lost millions.
BB: How dare you! You’re fired!
MGW: (Patiently.) You can’t fire me, Barbara, we’ve been through this several times. I guess it’s simply time for us to….
BB: Oh no!
MGW: Yes- we have to make another James Bond film.
BB: But that would make us hundreds of millions of dollars and would make hundreds of millions of people all over the world very happy!
...and there's a whole Imaginary Conversation in those four words, if anyone feels willing to write it. Meanwhile, the above is obviously a flight of fantasy but the one below is a bit more realistic...
2023. Eon HQ, under a voodoo ceremony in San Monique. Michael G. Wilson, Barbara Broccoli, Neal Purvis, and Robert Wade are sitting round a table.
MGW: I suppose it’s time, then.
Wade: Are you sure, Michael?
MGW: I think so, unless Barbara disagrees…?
BB: No, I’m with you 100%.
Purvis: I think so, too. We should definitely start now.
Wade: Yes, it’s the right time.
MGW: How many years is it since we finished work on “No Time To Die”?
BB: Four, I think.
Wade: Yes, four years.
BB: Then I think we should do this, now.
Purvis: Yes, for sure.
MGW: Then we’re all agreed?
(Everyone says “Yes”.)
MGW: Then it’s time to start. Barbara, do you want to start?
BB: No, I think you should start.
MGW: I’d be happy if you do it.
BB: Well, if you insist…?
Wade: We’d be happy if either of you start!
BB: All right, I’ll do it then.
MGW: Okay, on you go.
BB: Right. I spy with my little eye, something beginning with…
2023. EON headquarters under the ruins of MI6 HQ in London. Barbara Broccoli’s office. The room is in a complete mess with used tissues and empty cardboard boxes of fast-food all over the floor. The only clean place is her desk. The desk is completely empty. BB is on her couch which has been converted into a bed, scooping ice cream from a box. The swimming trunks from CR are framed on the wall.
It looks like she hasn't left her couch in weeks. "Everybody Hurts" by REM is on repeat.
BB: (Sobbing.) Da .... Dannyyyyy .....
(She is staring red-eyed at a GIF of Daniel Craig emerging from the ocean in CR. BB's eyeliner is running non-stop.)
BB: Dear Daniel, why did you leave m...mee ...eeee?
BB: Why won't you answer me, love of my life? Maybe you've missed my e-mails?
(She reluctantly removes the photo of DC and opens her e-mails. BB quickly scrolls past hundreds of mails to DC. The last hundred or so are in capital letters. She switches to her inbox. The replies from DC end about two months ago. She quickly deletes a dozen e-mails from Craig's lawyer and one from the police marked "Restraining order". She briefly notices that the e-mails from the lawyer and the police only use capital letters when it is grammatically required, which was nice.)
BB: Why do you keep listening to your greedy lawyers, dear Daniel? You know we belong together!
Music: "If you're on your own in this life/The days and nights are long/When you think you've had too much ...."
BB: Maybe you just forgot to look at your e-mails since Christmas?
(BB keeps scrolling through her in-box. It's mostly about a hundred messages from Michael G. Wilson, EON and Amazon marked with "Re: Bond26". The last fifty are in capital letters.)
BB: They don't understand our love. It was I who found you, remember? No-one else believed in a blond, short and magnificently-eared James Bond. But I fought for you!
(She switches to "create new" and starts typing.)
BB: (On e-mail) Dear Daniel 😍. Why don't you respond to my e-mails? 😥😭 And why are my messages somehow being forwarded to your lawyer? I'm sure he has his hands full working for Prince Andrew anyway. Please come back to me .... EON, I mean. I killed off James Bond for you, but I'm sure we can find a way to bring you back in the role. The fan forums are FULL of ideas for how YOUR Bond survived getting bombed to smithereens. They miss you too, but NO-ONE misses you more than I DO!!!!!! ❣️ I'm waiting for you ..... 👩❤️💋👨 💘
1971. A hotel in Las Vegas, serving as temporary HQ for Eon Productions during location filming for “Diamonds Are Forever”. Cubby Broccoli is looking through some paperwork, trying to take his mind off how much Sean Connery is being paid. There is a knock on the door.
Broccoli: Come in.
(His secretary enters.)
Secretary: There are two men here to see you, Mr Broccoli.
Broccoli: Well, who are they?
Secretary: That’s just it. They wouldn’t give names.
Broccoli: What?
Secretary: But they did say it was very important that they speak with you.
Broccoli: All right, show them in.
(The secretary shows two men in, then leaves. The men are both wearing black suit, black shoes, white shirt, black tie, and wraparound sunglasses. One of them, a younger black man, stays silent throughout while the other, who is older and white, does all the talking.)
Broccoli: How can I help you, Mr….?
Man: You are Albert R. Broccoli?
Broccoli: That’s right.
Man: And you are here in Las Vegas to make a film?
Broccoli: Yeah, of course. Now what-
Man: Some of this film is being shot in the desert outside Las Vegas.
Broccoli: That’s right, we’re-
Man: In the desert north of Las Vegas.
Broccoli: Now, what’s all this-
Man: You are making part of this film at a scientific compound in the desert north of Las Vegas.
Broccoli: Yes, but-
Man: This scientific compound bears certain resemblances to an area in the desert north of Las Vegas.
Broccoli: It does? And what might that be?
Man: It bears resemblance to Groom Lake.
Broccoli: Groom Lake? I’ve never heard of a Groom Lake.
Man: Are you sure about that?
Broccoli: Of course I’m sure!
Man: This is an establishment which the US Government are exceptionally keen to kept confidential, to the extent that it is never mentioned on maps, never referred to in any publicly available official documentation, and-
Broccoli: Oh, you mean Area 51 then?
(Broccoli’s two visitors look at each other in alarm.)
Man: Area 51? I didn’t hear anyone mention Area 51, did you?
(His companion shakes his head.)
Man: So let’s just stick to the facts, shall we? This scientific compound in your film must bear no resemblance whatsoever to the facility at Groom Lake.
Broccoli: That should be straightforward, I don’t think that any of the film crew have ever been to Area…. er, I mean Groom Lake.
Man: And there must be no indication of any captured flying saucers being worked on there.
Broccoli: We weren’t planning on that anyway.
Man: And no hints whatsoever about any captured aliens being held in captivity, examined, or autopsied.
Broccoli: Er…. Sure.
Man: And absolutely no indication that the Apollo moon missions were in any way faked and that this is where they were filmed.
Broccoli: Of course not!
Man: Then that should cover matters. Agent J?
(The younger man produces an object resembling a thick silver pen and holds it in front of Broccoli’s eyes.)
Man: If you’d just look here…
(A light flashes. Broccoli’s eyes widen then he stands still.)
Man: Let’s go.
(The two briskly leave. Broccoli looks around in puzzlement, shakes his head and sits down. There is a knock on the door and his secretary enters.)
Secretary: Weren’t those men strange! What did they want, Mr Broccoli?
Broccoli: (Genuine confusion.) What two men?
Secretary: Why, those two men who… never mind, Richard Maibaum and Tom Mankiewicz are outside and want to see you.
Broccoli: Of course, let them in.
(The two writers enter, grinning from ear to ear.)
Maibaum: Hey, Cubby, have we got an idea for you!
Broccoli: Oh yeah?
Mankiewicz: We figure that while Bond is in the Tectronics base out in the desert he should come across some astronauts faking a moon landing.
Maibaum: And he gets mixed up with them while running away from the security guards.
This is a sequel to an earlier posting, but I'm not about to go back through 85 pages to find it.
1985. Set of “A View To A Kill”. Sent by director John Glen, young assistant director Barbara Broccoli nervously goes to the trailer of Grace Jones and knocks.
BB: Miss Jones? You’re wanted on set.
(As she raises her hand to knock again, she is stopped by the sounds coming from inside.)
Jones: And what do you call THIS????
Wardrobe Assistant: (Terrified.) Why, this is your outfit for the next scene, Miss Jones.
Jones: An outfit? This is two metres of seaweed dragged from the depths of the ocean.
Wardrobe Assistant: But-
Jones: Be quiet you, I’m not finished yet. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, two metres of seaweed dragged from the depths of the ocean and sewn together with twigs from a bird’s nest by two blind old ladies working in the dark.
Wardrobe Assistant: But, Miss Jones-
Jones: Are you still here? Then it was pulled through a hedge backwards, tied to a horse’s rear and dragged through six miles of mud before being trampled by a herd of enraged salivating African elephants!
Wardrobe Assistant: But Miss Jones?
Jones: (Louder than Concorde though not quite as pretty.) YES?????
Wardrobe Assistant: You designed this outfit yourself.
(There is a pause. It ends with the sound of Jones drawing in breath. BB makes the wise decision to sneak quietly away and tell John Glen that it will be a while before Miss Jones is available.)
Silva: …and you, 2nd Minion, I want you and 3rd Minion to be dressed as London policemen at exactly the time I appear in Cheltenham London Underground station.
2nd Minion: Yes, sir.
Silva: And you and 3rd Minion will be carrying a package, inside which is a complete London Police uniform in exactly my size, which you will slip to me as I pass you.
2nd and 3rd Minion: Yes, sir.
Silva: I will travel to Westminster Station where you, 4th Minion, will have arranged for a lot of underminions to be there at exactly the time I arrive, all dressed in police uniforms.
4th Minion: Yes, sir.
Silva: And I want you to place the explosive on the tracks for exactly this train (He passes over a paper with the relevant details.) and no other- and rig it to explode when I give the signal.
4th Minion: Is that all, sir?
Silva: You and 5th Minion will be sitting nearby in a Police Range Rover at the exact time I emerge from the Underground, ready to drive us to our next destination.
4th Minion: And where will that be, Mr Silva?
Silva: That will be at the Board Of Inquiry in Whitehall at exactly the time M will be answering questions.
1st Minion: But, sir…?
Silva: Yes, 1st Minion?
1st Minion: That’s all at least a week away from now- first you have to lure James Bond to your island and arrange to be captured, and then you have to be brought to London, and then placed inside an easily-escapable prison which is controlled by Q’s computer system.
Silva: Yes, so?
1st Minion: And then you have to make your escape by Q carelessly connecting your system to his at exactly the right time for you to appear in exactly the right Underground Station at exactly the right point to meet Minions 2 and 3 who will have the uniform in exactly the right size ready for you at exactly the right time to allow you to get changed and then catch exactly the right train to get you to exactly the right station at exactly the right time to cause the train crash before meeting 4th Minion at exactly the right time to take you to Whitehall at exactly the time M is facing the Board Of Inquiry.
Silva: Yes, that’s right.
1st Minion: Okay, just checking in case I got anything wrong.
one of the missing adventures implied by the Brosnan films!
maybe next we can see the early days of those inseparable pals James 'n' Alec? as I recall, Alec states they did all sorts of things together completely inconsistent with the way Bond was portrayed in actual previous adventures
@caractacus potts - I tried twice, but I can't get an angle to approach that. Do you want me to send you what I've got by PM and see if you can make anything of it?
Well, @caractacus potts and I have been working away behind the scenes on what James & Alec, those inseparable pals, got up to before GE, and here's the first result-
1988. A bar somewhere in London. James Bond sits quietly drinking his favourite Martini, a Morlands special cigarette casually in hand (still possible then). The door opens and a man, similar to Bond in age, build, and so on except for his blond hair, quietly walks in and from behind approaches him.
Bond: Hello, Alec. You’re late.
Alec: How did you…? (He notices the mirror above the bar.) Oh, yes. Of course.
Bond: Sit down, let me buy you a drink.
Alec: A pint of lager, please. (Bond makes the order.) Late, yes, the traffic in London is appalling these days.
Bond: It could be worse. We could be out toppling dictators and regimes.
Alec: We did that, yes. Remember all those exciting adventures we shared, eh? The nights at the casinos?
Bond: Er… no.
Alec: All the girlfriends we stole from each other?
Bond: Can’t say I remember that either.
Alec: All those times we crossed the border into the USSR?
Bond: "All those times"? That only happened once, and it didn’t go so well. I had to very quickly learn to fly to get out of that mess, thank you very much.
Alec: Well, all those times I saved your life and you saved mine?
Bond: Are you sure you aren’t thinking of somebody else?
Alec: James, we’ve been best chums for ever, ever since the both of us got into this dirty damn business.
Bond: Wait, were you one of the other Double-O’s at the “Thunderball” briefing?
Alec: “Thunderball” briefing? Don’t be daft, that was 1965! We were both children when that happened.
Bond: Hmmm…
Alec: Anyway, we had better go. We have a job to do.
and now we'd like to challenge all fellow agents to retcon Alec into James Bond's otherwise well documented past
here's my first effort
________________________________________________
1977. Bond enters a restaurant in Cairo and spots the beautiful Russian agent sitting down at the bar just before him. He sits to her right and confidently addresses the bartender.
Bond: Bartender, the lady will have-
(He is interrupted by a voice to her left.)
Man: The lady will have a Bacardi on the rocks.
(The Russian looks at the newcomer with interest. He is sharp and confident, with blond hair.)
Lady: And the gentleman will have a pint of lager.
Bond: Now wait a minute, I was here first-
Man: You are Anya Amasova, colonel in the KGB
Anya: And you are Alec Trevelyan of MI6, licenced to kill.
Bond: He is? He can’t be, I would have met him before.
Alec: But James, of course you know me. We’ve worked together so often in the past, toppling dictators and regimes.
Bond: No we haven’t! I’ve never seen you before in my life!
Alec:(To Anya.) I believe that we are both working to the same end, why don’t we pool our resources?
Bond: Now wait just a minute! This is my mission, and that man is a fraud!
Bartender:(To Anya and Alec, pointing at Bond.) Is this, er, person bothering you?
Anya:(To Alec)Perhaps we should find a table where we can discuss our mutual interests with more privacy?
Alec: Yes, let’s.
(They both rise and walk away. Alec waves to Bond over his shoulder.)
Alec: Don’t worry, James, I can handle this from here.
(Bond sits alone at the bar and fumes.)
Bond: Now what? I feel like a damn fool sitting at this bar all by myself.
(A huge shadow falls over him as Jaws enters and sits beside him, then smiles.)
. . .
Later, aboard the “Liparus”, Bond is about to defuse the atomic warhead. He rolls up his sleeves and flexes his fingers, then reaches toward the mechanism only to poke another man’s hand.
Bond: Who the blazes?
Alec: It’s only me, James, remember?
Bond: No!
Alec: Remember I helped you by picking up the sexy Russian agent at the bar only a few scenes ago?
Bond: Helped me???? Oh God, you again, good Lord will you please get out of here? This is a job for a real Double-O agent!
Alec: You’ll never believe what happened after you left - M actually assigned us to pose as husband and wife and we shared a hotel room in Sardinia, and hubba hubba you should have seen her when she took off her-
Bond: Do you mind? This warhead is about to go off, and only I can defuse it with exactly seven seconds to spare!
Alec: Then you’d better let me handle it, James.
Bond: Why?
Alec: Because I can defuse it with six seconds to spare, which gives me one extra second to spare to brag about the sexy Russian agent, wow she was some hot stuff I tell ya! Almost like she took a special course in it or something….
(Bond bangs his forehead off the now defused missile.)
Of course, Alec and James go way back. Way, way back....
1962. Crab Key. James Bond lies asleep on the sand, hidden by some brush. He awakes as he hears the sound of a girl’s voice, softly singing to herself.
Girl: (Singing.) Underneath the mango tree…. La la la la dee…. Come watch for the moon… Mango tree ma honey and me….
(Bond is enjoying the voice. It sounds like Diana Coupland or maybe Nikki van der Zyl, he can’t be sure. He stands up, hidden by a convenient tree, and sees a beautiful girl emerge from the water examining shells in her hands. She is wearing a white bikini and he silently curses those meddling censors before drawing in breath to join her in the song, when….)
Man: (Singing.) Underneath the mango tree…
Girl: (Suddenly alert, reaching for the knife at her waist.) Who is that?
(A man emerges from the brush. He is tall and well-built, with blond hair.)
Man: It’s all right- I’m not supposed to be here either.
Bond: (Leaping out from his cover.) You can most certainly say that again. Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?
Man: Easy, now, James, it’s me- Alec. Don’t you remember?
James: No I do not, now get yourself the hell out of here.
Girl: (Confused.) But… who are you? What is going on here?
Alec: It’s all right, I’ll explain everything once this fellow has gone.
Bond: Gone? I’m going nowhere, it’s you who will be going.
Girl: James? Alec? You’re not trying to steal my shells, are you?
Bond: Of course not, Miss… What is your name anyway?
Girl: Ryder.
Bond: Ryder what?
Girl: Honey Ryder.
Alec: And what a beautiful name you have, Now, if you’d just please walk along the sand with me I will explain everything.
Bond: With you? What the hell am I supposed to do?
Alec: Oh, isn’t that obvious?
Bond: No, what?
Alec: Fetch my shoes.
(Much later, Bond and Honey rest in a small boat after escaping from Crab Key.)
Bond: We’ve run out of fuel.
Honey: What are we going to do now?
Bond: Well, we can swim, or…
Honey: Or what?
Bond: Come here.
(As they begin to embrace, a figure pops up from below.)
Alec: That’s everything sorted now, Honey, I found the reserve fuel.
Honey: What?
Bond: You again!!!
Alec: Yes, now that I have finally destroyed the evil Dr No and his base and rescued us from certain death.
Bond: You did what?
Alec: Why, James, I have-
(They are interrupted by a ship’s klaxon. A larger boat appears, led by Felix Leiter with a bullhorn.)
Felix: Ahoy, Mr Bond! Ahoy, Mr Bond!
Bond: Good Lord!
Felix: Oh, you can call me Jack.
(Honey has now noticed the handsome American and is smiling sweetly at him.)
Bond: (Resignedly.) Oh, forget it. Just throw me a rope and let’s get out of here.
I don't write screenplays and I lack a sense of humour...
MI6 Headquarters 1969.
James Bond, looking young and lean and slightly Australian, enters M’s office having flirted unsuccessfully with Miss Moneypenny, Britain’s last line of defence and always his first port of call.
OO7 Good morning, Sir.
M is scribbling on an important document, pipe in mouth. A half-pint glass sits empty and used beside him. While Bond waits, he sniffs the air and gazes around the room which has lost all of its Naval memorabilia and more resembles a farmhouse, with riding leathers and Constable paintings hung on the walls. M pauses and puts down his pen. Bond notices it is a souvenir from the L.N.E.R. Steam Railway Museum.
M I’m removing you from Operation Bedlam, OO7.
OO7 But, Sir, Blofeld is something of a must for me…
M You’ve had two years to run him down. I’m taking you off the case.
OO7 Does this mean you’ve lost confidence in me?
M I am well aware of your capabilities, OO7. But it’s pointless running a mare without a target.
OO7 Running a what?
M OO6 will replace you. That’s all.
Bond pauses. Once more he looks around the room, puzzled. In the corner where there used to be portrait of Wellington sits a fridge jammed full of tins of something called Webster’s Yorkshire Bitter. Bond sniffs the air again. M returns to his document and picks up his pen. Bond retreats to the door, a puzzled look on his face.
OO7 Who –
M That’s all, that’s all.
Bond re-enters Miss Moneypenny’s office.
OO7 Moneypenny, has the old man been drinking again?
M/P What do you mean ‘again’?
OO7 I’m not sure. Tell me, Moneypenny, who the hell is OO6?
M/P Oh, haven’t you heard. He’s the new guy from up north. M’s got quiet a thing for him. Rates him extremely highly. Did several seasons in the Royal Fusiliers, even been to prison, and drinks an awful lot of Yorkshire tea. Raised on a farm and rather good at undercover work, blends in well with the lower echelons of society. Speaks multiple languages, including Russian, and is rather partial to horses and trains. If you want to meet him, he’s usually in the Taverners talking cricket and drinking Websters.
OO7 How long has he been in the firm?
M/P Long enough to save the world, James.
OO7 That can’t be right. That’s my preserve. I’m the only one who –
The intercom rings.
M Stop the chit chat, Miss Moneypenny, ask OO6 to report immediately.
M/P Yes, sir?
Bond frowns. He reaches for his hat while Miss Moneypenny contacts OO6. He overhears a harsh northern drawl accepting M’s invite. He becomes suddenly agitated.
OO7 Take a memo, Moneypenny.
M/P Yes, James.
OO7 Dear Sir. Please accept my resignation as of immediate effect. Signed, James Bond, OO7.
so far it looks like Bond wouldve been stuck with all the lousy jobs if Alec really were his fellow double oh
as well as retconning canonical adventures, we can newly declassify previously untold adventures, such as this one, which matches Alec's unreliable memory of what their job supposedly consisted of
_____________________________________________
Fidel Castro sits alone in his office, feet up on the desk, smoking a cigar and tapping his feet as he listens to a bootleg cassette of the Buena Vista Social Club.
Suddenly the doors burst open, and two men enter clad in tuxedoes, each with gun held firmly out front. It is those two inseparable pals, James ‘n’ Alec. Hooray! Bond is on the left, and sweeps the room with his gun, from the left corner to the right. Alec, on Bond’s right makes the opposite movement. As they conclude their sweeps, they end up pointing their guns at each other and both jump in alarm
Bond: Dammit Alec, don’t do that, you scared the bejeebers out of me.
Alec: I could say the same for you old boy, why don’t you watch where you’re pointing that thing
Castro: Caramba! Who are you two and how did you get in here?
Bond: I am with the British Secret Service, and I…
Alec:We are with the British Secret Service, and we are here to topple a dictator!
Bond: We are? No we aren’t, we don’t do that. Our job is to hang out in casinos, drive luxury racing cars, pick up femme fatales and birds with one wing down…
Alec: Today our orders are to topple this dictator
Bond: Why didn’t M give me these orders then?
Alec: Because he trusted me to convey them to you, and…
Castro: Gentlemen, gentlemen, why don’t you retire to my waiting room and return when you have your story straight
Bond(glaring at Alec): Yes, lets
Alec: No, no, no need. That is our story, we are here to topple a dictator, and you Fidel Castro are that dictator.
Castro(listening warily): What precisely do you mean by topple?
Bond: Yes, what?
Alec: Well, let’s say we help you retire discretely but officially, and you can let Che take over with a lot of speeches about liberalization, while still in fact maintaining the same great policies as always, just now with more tourism
Castro: Che’s dead
Bond: I knew that, if only you’d let me do the talking Alec you wouldn’t make such embarrassing mistakes,
Alec: Well Raoul then, it doesn’t matter who. And then, Fidel, we can secretly relocate you to a nice new retirement home with maximum security. Let’s say Florida, that’s nearby, there’s boats crossing all the time, I suggest an exclusive gated community by the name of Mar-a-Lago. All the best dictators retire there.
Castro: No, that will never do. I have many enemies in Florida. How about a villa in Crimea?
Alec: Yes ! Excellent idea, that would be even easier to arrange, as I have close connections in that part of… (bites tongue in midsentence and glances at Bond warily, but Bond has not noticed the slip) Well anyway let’s agree on Crimea
Bond(interrupting): No, I insist, this is not and has never been a part of our job. Our job is to look good in a suit, order fine food and drink, escape death traps, defuse doomsday devices, save the world, and to make responsible and discretionary use of our License to Kill
(at this point, Bond has become overexcited and is waving his gun around the room as he rants, like Travolta arguing there is no God in Pulp Fiction)
Castro(reaching out to push Bond’s gun slightly further away from his face): License to kill? What’s this? Do you propose to kill me?
Bond: No, that was just an example of our normal responsibilities falling within our official job description, whereas toppling dictators…
Alec(gesturing to stop talking): ixnay, James, ixnay!
Castro: Guards! Remove this man!
(two guards enter the room and grab Bond’s shoulders from behind, pulling him backwards out the door while his heels drag on the floor. Alec has stepped back towards the window so as to not get himself also dragged out)
Bond: Alec, for heaven’s sake do something! (door slams, leaving Castro and Alec alone in the room)
Castro: Now where were we?
Alec: The villa in Crimea, I can assure you there are many beautiful Soviet women in nearby villas and the climate is not so much cooler than here, and we can always arrange to have your cigars imported…
Castro: Yes, I think we are going to get along famously you and I, here have a cigar.
(both men light cigars and lean back in chairs with feet up on Castro’s desk. Castro turns the tape recorder back on) .
Castro: ...and check out this decadent bourgeois Cuban jazz ensemble, that Rubén González on piano is really good.
(Both men smoke and tap their feet to the music, only momentarily distracted by the shots of a firing squad outside the window)
there there, dont worry: the gunshot was offstage and we did not see a body. I'm sure Bond'll find a way out of this shock ending, and those inseparable pals shall meet again for further exciting adventures
2021. Eon HQ, under a mortuary outside Las Vegas. The phone rings.
MGW: Yes?
Secretary: (On phone.) I have Mr Sean Bean on the line for you.
MGW: Oh God! Here, Gregg- you take this call!
Gregg Wilson: What? Why me?
MGW: It’s Sean Bean!
Gregg: So? I barely met him during “GoldenEye”, you know him a lot better, Dad.
MGW: That’s not the point- I told him back then that he couldn’t be James Bond because everyone knows he always dies in his movies and James Bond doesn’t die, and because he has blond hair and James Bond has dark hair.
Comments
The Godfather version you mention was personally re-edited by Coppola and had both deleted scenes reinserted and specially shot scenes (at least one to my knowledge but there may have been more). I thoroughly enjoyed it, but I don't believe (could be wrong) that version ever made it to DVD or Blu-ray.
2023. Eon HQ, inside a submarine near Japan. An elegant dark-haired woman in a white robe lounges on a couch. An elderly man with a beard lounges on an adjacent couch.
BB: Purvis! Come here at once!
(Purvis enters, on his knees and rubbing his hands.)
Purvis: You called, Ms Broccoli, madame?
BB: Peel me another grape, and be quick about it.
Purvis: Yes, Ms Broccoli, anything you say, Ms Broccoli.
(He goes to the pantry, where he finds Wade rummaging through the shelves.)
Wade: Hello, Neal.
Purvis: What are you here for, Robert?
Wade: Mr Wilson sent me for a grape.
Purvis: Ah, that’s what I’m here for too.
(They search ...er… fruitlessly.)
Wade: I think we’ve run out.
Purvis: Oh, God, do you want to tell him?
Wade: I’ll do that, but you have to tell HER!
(Purvis pales at the thought. They look at each other then walk towards the main room.)
BB: What’s taking you so long, Purvis?
Purvis: Sorry, Ms Broccoli, but… but… it seems we have run out of grapes.
BB: What??? How is this possible???
MGW: (Opening a letter.) Hmmm, I think I know what has happened. This is a letter from the greengrocer- our last cheque to him has bounced.
BB: Bounced??? Why??? Our James Bond films make millions!
MGW: Yes, but your films “The Rhythm Section” and “Film Stars Don’t Die In Liverpool” lost millions.
BB: How dare you! You’re fired!
MGW: (Patiently.) You can’t fire me, Barbara, we’ve been through this several times. I guess it’s simply time for us to….
BB: Oh no!
MGW: Yes- we have to make another James Bond film.
BB: But that would make us hundreds of millions of dollars and would make hundreds of millions of people all over the world very happy!
MGW: Sometimes the old ways are the best.
She just misses Daniel. 🥰
...and there's a whole Imaginary Conversation in those four words, if anyone feels willing to write it. Meanwhile, the above is obviously a flight of fantasy but the one below is a bit more realistic...
2023. Eon HQ, under a voodoo ceremony in San Monique. Michael G. Wilson, Barbara Broccoli, Neal Purvis, and Robert Wade are sitting round a table.
MGW: I suppose it’s time, then.
Wade: Are you sure, Michael?
MGW: I think so, unless Barbara disagrees…?
BB: No, I’m with you 100%.
Purvis: I think so, too. We should definitely start now.
Wade: Yes, it’s the right time.
MGW: How many years is it since we finished work on “No Time To Die”?
BB: Four, I think.
Wade: Yes, four years.
BB: Then I think we should do this, now.
Purvis: Yes, for sure.
MGW: Then we’re all agreed?
(Everyone says “Yes”.)
MGW: Then it’s time to start. Barbara, do you want to start?
BB: No, I think you should start.
MGW: I’d be happy if you do it.
BB: Well, if you insist…?
Wade: We’d be happy if either of you start!
BB: All right, I’ll do it then.
MGW: Okay, on you go.
BB: Right. I spy with my little eye, something beginning with…
(Hey, I only said a bit more realistic.)
2023. EON headquarters under the ruins of MI6 HQ in London. Barbara Broccoli’s office. The room is in a complete mess with used tissues and empty cardboard boxes of fast-food all over the floor. The only clean place is her desk. The desk is completely empty. BB is on her couch which has been converted into a bed, scooping ice cream from a box. The swimming trunks from CR are framed on the wall.
It looks like she hasn't left her couch in weeks. "Everybody Hurts" by REM is on repeat.
BB: (Sobbing.) Da .... Dannyyyyy .....
(She is staring red-eyed at a GIF of Daniel Craig emerging from the ocean in CR. BB's eyeliner is running non-stop.)
BB: Dear Daniel, why did you leave m...mee ...eeee?
Music: "Well, everybody hurts sometimes/Everybody cries/Everybody hurts, sometimes,"
BB: Why won't you answer me, love of my life? Maybe you've missed my e-mails?
(She reluctantly removes the photo of DC and opens her e-mails. BB quickly scrolls past hundreds of mails to DC. The last hundred or so are in capital letters. She switches to her inbox. The replies from DC end about two months ago. She quickly deletes a dozen e-mails from Craig's lawyer and one from the police marked "Restraining order". She briefly notices that the e-mails from the lawyer and the police only use capital letters when it is grammatically required, which was nice.)
BB: Why do you keep listening to your greedy lawyers, dear Daniel? You know we belong together!
Music: "If you're on your own in this life/The days and nights are long/When you think you've had too much ...."
BB: Maybe you just forgot to look at your e-mails since Christmas?
(BB keeps scrolling through her in-box. It's mostly about a hundred messages from Michael G. Wilson, EON and Amazon marked with "Re: Bond26". The last fifty are in capital letters.)
BB: They don't understand our love. It was I who found you, remember? No-one else believed in a blond, short and magnificently-eared James Bond. But I fought for you!
(She switches to "create new" and starts typing.)
BB: (On e-mail) Dear Daniel 😍. Why don't you respond to my e-mails? 😥😭 And why are my messages somehow being forwarded to your lawyer? I'm sure he has his hands full working for Prince Andrew anyway. Please come back to me .... EON, I mean. I killed off James Bond for you, but I'm sure we can find a way to bring you back in the role. The fan forums are FULL of ideas for how YOUR Bond survived getting bombed to smithereens. They miss you too, but NO-ONE misses you more than I DO!!!!!! ❣️ I'm waiting for you ..... 👩❤️💋👨 💘
Forever yours, Barbara
Nice to see you carrying on, N24! I'll try to come up with one today.
1971. A hotel in Las Vegas, serving as temporary HQ for Eon Productions during location filming for “Diamonds Are Forever”. Cubby Broccoli is looking through some paperwork, trying to take his mind off how much Sean Connery is being paid. There is a knock on the door.
Broccoli: Come in.
(His secretary enters.)
Secretary: There are two men here to see you, Mr Broccoli.
Broccoli: Well, who are they?
Secretary: That’s just it. They wouldn’t give names.
Broccoli: What?
Secretary: But they did say it was very important that they speak with you.
Broccoli: All right, show them in.
(The secretary shows two men in, then leaves. The men are both wearing black suit, black shoes, white shirt, black tie, and wraparound sunglasses. One of them, a younger black man, stays silent throughout while the other, who is older and white, does all the talking.)
Broccoli: How can I help you, Mr….?
Man: You are Albert R. Broccoli?
Broccoli: That’s right.
Man: And you are here in Las Vegas to make a film?
Broccoli: Yeah, of course. Now what-
Man: Some of this film is being shot in the desert outside Las Vegas.
Broccoli: That’s right, we’re-
Man: In the desert north of Las Vegas.
Broccoli: Now, what’s all this-
Man: You are making part of this film at a scientific compound in the desert north of Las Vegas.
Broccoli: Yes, but-
Man: This scientific compound bears certain resemblances to an area in the desert north of Las Vegas.
Broccoli: It does? And what might that be?
Man: It bears resemblance to Groom Lake.
Broccoli: Groom Lake? I’ve never heard of a Groom Lake.
Man: Are you sure about that?
Broccoli: Of course I’m sure!
Man: This is an establishment which the US Government are exceptionally keen to kept confidential, to the extent that it is never mentioned on maps, never referred to in any publicly available official documentation, and-
Broccoli: Oh, you mean Area 51 then?
(Broccoli’s two visitors look at each other in alarm.)
Man: Area 51? I didn’t hear anyone mention Area 51, did you?
(His companion shakes his head.)
Man: So let’s just stick to the facts, shall we? This scientific compound in your film must bear no resemblance whatsoever to the facility at Groom Lake.
Broccoli: That should be straightforward, I don’t think that any of the film crew have ever been to Area…. er, I mean Groom Lake.
Man: And there must be no indication of any captured flying saucers being worked on there.
Broccoli: We weren’t planning on that anyway.
Man: And no hints whatsoever about any captured aliens being held in captivity, examined, or autopsied.
Broccoli: Er…. Sure.
Man: And absolutely no indication that the Apollo moon missions were in any way faked and that this is where they were filmed.
Broccoli: Of course not!
Man: Then that should cover matters. Agent J?
(The younger man produces an object resembling a thick silver pen and holds it in front of Broccoli’s eyes.)
Man: If you’d just look here…
(A light flashes. Broccoli’s eyes widen then he stands still.)
Man: Let’s go.
(The two briskly leave. Broccoli looks around in puzzlement, shakes his head and sits down. There is a knock on the door and his secretary enters.)
Secretary: Weren’t those men strange! What did they want, Mr Broccoli?
Broccoli: (Genuine confusion.) What two men?
Secretary: Why, those two men who… never mind, Richard Maibaum and Tom Mankiewicz are outside and want to see you.
Broccoli: Of course, let them in.
(The two writers enter, grinning from ear to ear.)
Maibaum: Hey, Cubby, have we got an idea for you!
Broccoli: Oh yeah?
Mankiewicz: We figure that while Bond is in the Tectronics base out in the desert he should come across some astronauts faking a moon landing.
Maibaum: And he gets mixed up with them while running away from the security guards.
Broccoli: Faked moon landing? Let’s go for it!
I knew something very strange had to have happen while making DAD.
@Number24 that portrait of Babs made me laugh out loud!
This is a sequel to an earlier posting, but I'm not about to go back through 85 pages to find it.
1985. Set of “A View To A Kill”. Sent by director John Glen, young assistant director Barbara Broccoli nervously goes to the trailer of Grace Jones and knocks.
BB: Miss Jones? You’re wanted on set.
(As she raises her hand to knock again, she is stopped by the sounds coming from inside.)
Jones: And what do you call THIS????
Wardrobe Assistant: (Terrified.) Why, this is your outfit for the next scene, Miss Jones.
Jones: An outfit? This is two metres of seaweed dragged from the depths of the ocean.
Wardrobe Assistant: But-
Jones: Be quiet you, I’m not finished yet. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, two metres of seaweed dragged from the depths of the ocean and sewn together with twigs from a bird’s nest by two blind old ladies working in the dark.
Wardrobe Assistant: But, Miss Jones-
Jones: Are you still here? Then it was pulled through a hedge backwards, tied to a horse’s rear and dragged through six miles of mud before being trampled by a herd of enraged salivating African elephants!
Wardrobe Assistant: But Miss Jones?
Jones: (Louder than Concorde though not quite as pretty.) YES?????
Wardrobe Assistant: You designed this outfit yourself.
(There is a pause. It ends with the sound of Jones drawing in breath. BB makes the wise decision to sneak quietly away and tell John Glen that it will be a while before Miss Jones is available.)
Thank you. I suspect it's pretty realistic. 😂
2012. Silva instructs his minions.
Silva: …and you, 2nd Minion, I want you and 3rd Minion to be dressed as London policemen at exactly the time I appear in Cheltenham London Underground station.
2nd Minion: Yes, sir.
Silva: And you and 3rd Minion will be carrying a package, inside which is a complete London Police uniform in exactly my size, which you will slip to me as I pass you.
2nd and 3rd Minion: Yes, sir.
Silva: I will travel to Westminster Station where you, 4th Minion, will have arranged for a lot of underminions to be there at exactly the time I arrive, all dressed in police uniforms.
4th Minion: Yes, sir.
Silva: And I want you to place the explosive on the tracks for exactly this train (He passes over a paper with the relevant details.) and no other- and rig it to explode when I give the signal.
4th Minion: Is that all, sir?
Silva: You and 5th Minion will be sitting nearby in a Police Range Rover at the exact time I emerge from the Underground, ready to drive us to our next destination.
4th Minion: And where will that be, Mr Silva?
Silva: That will be at the Board Of Inquiry in Whitehall at exactly the time M will be answering questions.
1st Minion: But, sir…?
Silva: Yes, 1st Minion?
1st Minion: That’s all at least a week away from now- first you have to lure James Bond to your island and arrange to be captured, and then you have to be brought to London, and then placed inside an easily-escapable prison which is controlled by Q’s computer system.
Silva: Yes, so?
1st Minion: And then you have to make your escape by Q carelessly connecting your system to his at exactly the right time for you to appear in exactly the right Underground Station at exactly the right point to meet Minions 2 and 3 who will have the uniform in exactly the right size ready for you at exactly the right time to allow you to get changed and then catch exactly the right train to get you to exactly the right station at exactly the right time to cause the train crash before meeting 4th Minion at exactly the right time to take you to Whitehall at exactly the time M is facing the Board Of Inquiry.
Silva: Yes, that’s right.
1st Minion: Okay, just checking in case I got anything wrong.
Where's Cheltenham Underground Station? Gloucestershire? Does it really say Cheltenham in the movie?
Hmm, I was going by ear and memory. As ever, I'm happy to be corrected.
1993. Zurich. A couple lie in bed, relaxing after making love.
James Bond: Another straight shot of tequila?
Paris McKenna: Oh no, James, I think I’ve had enough for one night.
James: Is that all you’ve had enough of for one night?
Paris: Funny you should say that…
(A discreet interval later.)
James: Mmmm….
Paris: That was wonderful, James.
James: Yes, for me, too.
Paris: I just wish you wouldn’t sleep with that gun under your pillow.
James: Sorry, darling, force of habit.
Paris: I hope you’ll be breaking that habit soon.
(Unseen by Paris, his eyes open wide at this warning sign.)
James: But of course, darling.
(He gets out of bed and begins dressing, not forgetting his gun.)
Paris: James? Where are you going?
James: I just thought I’d get some, er, exercise.
Paris: You must be joking. Don’t be too long.
James: I’ll be right back.
one of the missing adventures implied by the Brosnan films!
maybe next we can see the early days of those inseparable pals James 'n' Alec? as I recall, Alec states they did all sorts of things together completely inconsistent with the way Bond was portrayed in actual previous adventures
@caractacus potts - I tried twice, but I can't get an angle to approach that. Do you want me to send you what I've got by PM and see if you can make anything of it?
Well, @caractacus potts and I have been working away behind the scenes on what James & Alec, those inseparable pals, got up to before GE, and here's the first result-
1988. A bar somewhere in London. James Bond sits quietly drinking his favourite Martini, a Morlands special cigarette casually in hand (still possible then). The door opens and a man, similar to Bond in age, build, and so on except for his blond hair, quietly walks in and from behind approaches him.
Bond: Hello, Alec. You’re late.
Alec: How did you…? (He notices the mirror above the bar.) Oh, yes. Of course.
Bond: Sit down, let me buy you a drink.
Alec: A pint of lager, please. (Bond makes the order.) Late, yes, the traffic in London is appalling these days.
Bond: It could be worse. We could be out toppling dictators and regimes.
Alec: We did that, yes. Remember all those exciting adventures we shared, eh? The nights at the casinos?
Bond: Er… no.
Alec: All the girlfriends we stole from each other?
Bond: Can’t say I remember that either.
Alec: All those times we crossed the border into the USSR?
Bond: "All those times"? That only happened once, and it didn’t go so well. I had to very quickly learn to fly to get out of that mess, thank you very much.
Alec: Well, all those times I saved your life and you saved mine?
Bond: Are you sure you aren’t thinking of somebody else?
Alec: James, we’ve been best chums for ever, ever since the both of us got into this dirty damn business.
Bond: Wait, were you one of the other Double-O’s at the “Thunderball” briefing?
Alec: “Thunderball” briefing? Don’t be daft, that was 1965! We were both children when that happened.
Bond: Hmmm…
Alec: Anyway, we had better go. We have a job to do.
Bond: Yes, I know: drop in, shoot out.
Alec: One more drink?
Bond: Buy me a pint.
thanks @boss
and now we'd like to challenge all fellow agents to retcon Alec into James Bond's otherwise well documented past
here's my first effort
________________________________________________
1977. Bond enters a restaurant in Cairo and spots the beautiful Russian agent sitting down at the bar just before him. He sits to her right and confidently addresses the bartender.
Bond: Bartender, the lady will have-
(He is interrupted by a voice to her left.)
Man: The lady will have a Bacardi on the rocks.
(The Russian looks at the newcomer with interest. He is sharp and confident, with blond hair.)
Lady: And the gentleman will have a pint of lager.
Bond: Now wait a minute, I was here first-
Man: You are Anya Amasova, colonel in the KGB
Anya: And you are Alec Trevelyan of MI6, licenced to kill.
Bond: He is? He can’t be, I would have met him before.
Alec: But James, of course you know me. We’ve worked together so often in the past, toppling dictators and regimes.
Bond: No we haven’t! I’ve never seen you before in my life!
Alec: (To Anya.) I believe that we are both working to the same end, why don’t we pool our resources?
Bond: Now wait just a minute! This is my mission, and that man is a fraud!
Bartender: (To Anya and Alec, pointing at Bond.) Is this, er, person bothering you?
Anya: (To Alec) Perhaps we should find a table where we can discuss our mutual interests with more privacy?
Alec: Yes, let’s.
(They both rise and walk away. Alec waves to Bond over his shoulder.)
Alec: Don’t worry, James, I can handle this from here.
(Bond sits alone at the bar and fumes.)
Bond: Now what? I feel like a damn fool sitting at this bar all by myself.
(A huge shadow falls over him as Jaws enters and sits beside him, then smiles.)
. . .
Later, aboard the “Liparus”, Bond is about to defuse the atomic warhead. He rolls up his sleeves and flexes his fingers, then reaches toward the mechanism only to poke another man’s hand.
Bond: Who the blazes?
Alec: It’s only me, James, remember?
Bond: No!
Alec: Remember I helped you by picking up the sexy Russian agent at the bar only a few scenes ago?
Bond: Helped me???? Oh God, you again, good Lord will you please get out of here? This is a job for a real Double-O agent!
Alec: You’ll never believe what happened after you left - M actually assigned us to pose as husband and wife and we shared a hotel room in Sardinia, and hubba hubba you should have seen her when she took off her-
Bond: Do you mind? This warhead is about to go off, and only I can defuse it with exactly seven seconds to spare!
Alec: Then you’d better let me handle it, James.
Bond: Why?
Alec: Because I can defuse it with six seconds to spare, which gives me one extra second to spare to brag about the sexy Russian agent, wow she was some hot stuff I tell ya! Almost like she took a special course in it or something….
(Bond bangs his forehead off the now defused missile.)
Of course, Alec and James go way back. Way, way back....
1962. Crab Key. James Bond lies asleep on the sand, hidden by some brush. He awakes as he hears the sound of a girl’s voice, softly singing to herself.
Girl: (Singing.) Underneath the mango tree…. La la la la dee…. Come watch for the moon… Mango tree ma honey and me….
(Bond is enjoying the voice. It sounds like Diana Coupland or maybe Nikki van der Zyl, he can’t be sure. He stands up, hidden by a convenient tree, and sees a beautiful girl emerge from the water examining shells in her hands. She is wearing a white bikini and he silently curses those meddling censors before drawing in breath to join her in the song, when….)
Man: (Singing.) Underneath the mango tree…
Girl: (Suddenly alert, reaching for the knife at her waist.) Who is that?
(A man emerges from the brush. He is tall and well-built, with blond hair.)
Man: It’s all right- I’m not supposed to be here either.
Bond: (Leaping out from his cover.) You can most certainly say that again. Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?
Man: Easy, now, James, it’s me- Alec. Don’t you remember?
James: No I do not, now get yourself the hell out of here.
Girl: (Confused.) But… who are you? What is going on here?
Alec: It’s all right, I’ll explain everything once this fellow has gone.
Bond: Gone? I’m going nowhere, it’s you who will be going.
Girl: James? Alec? You’re not trying to steal my shells, are you?
Bond: Of course not, Miss… What is your name anyway?
Girl: Ryder.
Bond: Ryder what?
Girl: Honey Ryder.
Alec: And what a beautiful name you have, Now, if you’d just please walk along the sand with me I will explain everything.
Bond: With you? What the hell am I supposed to do?
Alec: Oh, isn’t that obvious?
Bond: No, what?
Alec: Fetch my shoes.
(Much later, Bond and Honey rest in a small boat after escaping from Crab Key.)
Bond: We’ve run out of fuel.
Honey: What are we going to do now?
Bond: Well, we can swim, or…
Honey: Or what?
Bond: Come here.
(As they begin to embrace, a figure pops up from below.)
Alec: That’s everything sorted now, Honey, I found the reserve fuel.
Honey: What?
Bond: You again!!!
Alec: Yes, now that I have finally destroyed the evil Dr No and his base and rescued us from certain death.
Bond: You did what?
Alec: Why, James, I have-
(They are interrupted by a ship’s klaxon. A larger boat appears, led by Felix Leiter with a bullhorn.)
Felix: Ahoy, Mr Bond! Ahoy, Mr Bond!
Bond: Good Lord!
Felix: Oh, you can call me Jack.
(Honey has now noticed the handsome American and is smiling sweetly at him.)
Bond: (Resignedly.) Oh, forget it. Just throw me a rope and let’s get out of here.
I think it's about time we get to know James and Alec's adventures together. Finally! 😁
Here's a little more then....
1963. M’s Office.
M: Take a look at this photograph, 007.
Bond: Very nice, sir.
M: Her name is Tatiana Romanova. She is a cipher clerk working in the Russian Consulate in Istanbul.
Bond: I see.
M: And she has said that she is willing to defect to us, bringing with her the Lektor decoding machine.
Bond: The Lektor, no less.
M: But only if one of our agents goes out there personally to pick up both her and the Lektor machine.
Bond: Hmmm…
M: She wants him to make mad passionate love to her several times a night both in Istanbul and on board the Orient Express heading back here.
Bond: Mad passionate love, sir?
M: That’s right.
Bond: Several times a night, you say?
M: That’s what she wants.
Bond: Just let me see that photo again….
M: But our man in Istanbul, Kerim, feels that this is obviously a trap and he does not want us to go through with it.
Bond: But sir, a Lektor- our cryptographers have been after one for years.
M: True, which is why I’ve decided to go through with it and take her up on her offer.
Bond: Well, sir, I-
M: 006?
Alec: Yes, sir?
M: You’re booked on the 08.30 plane in the morning.
Bond: Whaaaat????
I don't write screenplays and I lack a sense of humour...
MI6 Headquarters 1969.
James Bond, looking young and lean and slightly Australian, enters M’s office having flirted unsuccessfully with Miss Moneypenny, Britain’s last line of defence and always his first port of call.
OO7 Good morning, Sir.
M is scribbling on an important document, pipe in mouth. A half-pint glass sits empty and used beside him. While Bond waits, he sniffs the air and gazes around the room which has lost all of its Naval memorabilia and more resembles a farmhouse, with riding leathers and Constable paintings hung on the walls. M pauses and puts down his pen. Bond notices it is a souvenir from the L.N.E.R. Steam Railway Museum.
M I’m removing you from Operation Bedlam, OO7.
OO7 But, Sir, Blofeld is something of a must for me…
M You’ve had two years to run him down. I’m taking you off the case.
OO7 Does this mean you’ve lost confidence in me?
M I am well aware of your capabilities, OO7. But it’s pointless running a mare without a target.
OO7 Running a what?
M OO6 will replace you. That’s all.
Bond pauses. Once more he looks around the room, puzzled. In the corner where there used to be portrait of Wellington sits a fridge jammed full of tins of something called Webster’s Yorkshire Bitter. Bond sniffs the air again. M returns to his document and picks up his pen. Bond retreats to the door, a puzzled look on his face.
OO7 Who –
M That’s all, that’s all.
Bond re-enters Miss Moneypenny’s office.
OO7 Moneypenny, has the old man been drinking again?
M/P What do you mean ‘again’?
OO7 I’m not sure. Tell me, Moneypenny, who the hell is OO6?
M/P Oh, haven’t you heard. He’s the new guy from up north. M’s got quiet a thing for him. Rates him extremely highly. Did several seasons in the Royal Fusiliers, even been to prison, and drinks an awful lot of Yorkshire tea. Raised on a farm and rather good at undercover work, blends in well with the lower echelons of society. Speaks multiple languages, including Russian, and is rather partial to horses and trains. If you want to meet him, he’s usually in the Taverners talking cricket and drinking Websters.
OO7 How long has he been in the firm?
M/P Long enough to save the world, James.
OO7 That can’t be right. That’s my preserve. I’m the only one who –
The intercom rings.
M Stop the chit chat, Miss Moneypenny, ask OO6 to report immediately.
M/P Yes, sir?
Bond frowns. He reaches for his hat while Miss Moneypenny contacts OO6. He overhears a harsh northern drawl accepting M’s invite. He becomes suddenly agitated.
OO7 Take a memo, Moneypenny.
M/P Yes, James.
OO7 Dear Sir. Please accept my resignation as of immediate effect. Signed, James Bond, OO7.
M/P Resignation? From what?
OO7 From Her Majesty’s Secret Service!
M/P Oh, James, this isn’t the Country Club.
OO7 [Humph] May as well be.
😁😁😁 I like it!
well retconned @chrisno1
so far it looks like Bond wouldve been stuck with all the lousy jobs if Alec really were his fellow double oh
as well as retconning canonical adventures, we can newly declassify previously untold adventures, such as this one, which matches Alec's unreliable memory of what their job supposedly consisted of
_____________________________________________
Fidel Castro sits alone in his office, feet up on the desk, smoking a cigar and tapping his feet as he listens to a bootleg cassette of the Buena Vista Social Club.
Suddenly the doors burst open, and two men enter clad in tuxedoes, each with gun held firmly out front. It is those two inseparable pals, James ‘n’ Alec. Hooray! Bond is on the left, and sweeps the room with his gun, from the left corner to the right. Alec, on Bond’s right makes the opposite movement. As they conclude their sweeps, they end up pointing their guns at each other and both jump in alarm
Bond: Dammit Alec, don’t do that, you scared the bejeebers out of me.
Alec: I could say the same for you old boy, why don’t you watch where you’re pointing that thing
Castro: Caramba! Who are you two and how did you get in here?
Bond: I am with the British Secret Service, and I…
Alec: We are with the British Secret Service, and we are here to topple a dictator!
Bond: We are? No we aren’t, we don’t do that. Our job is to hang out in casinos, drive luxury racing cars, pick up femme fatales and birds with one wing down…
Alec: Today our orders are to topple this dictator
Bond: Why didn’t M give me these orders then?
Alec: Because he trusted me to convey them to you, and…
Castro: Gentlemen, gentlemen, why don’t you retire to my waiting room and return when you have your story straight
Bond (glaring at Alec): Yes, lets
Alec: No, no, no need. That is our story, we are here to topple a dictator, and you Fidel Castro are that dictator.
Castro (listening warily): What precisely do you mean by topple?
Bond: Yes, what?
Alec: Well, let’s say we help you retire discretely but officially, and you can let Che take over with a lot of speeches about liberalization, while still in fact maintaining the same great policies as always, just now with more tourism
Castro: Che’s dead
Bond: I knew that, if only you’d let me do the talking Alec you wouldn’t make such embarrassing mistakes,
Alec: Well Raoul then, it doesn’t matter who. And then, Fidel, we can secretly relocate you to a nice new retirement home with maximum security. Let’s say Florida, that’s nearby, there’s boats crossing all the time, I suggest an exclusive gated community by the name of Mar-a-Lago. All the best dictators retire there.
Castro: No, that will never do. I have many enemies in Florida. How about a villa in Crimea?
Alec: Yes ! Excellent idea, that would be even easier to arrange, as I have close connections in that part of… (bites tongue in midsentence and glances at Bond warily, but Bond has not noticed the slip) Well anyway let’s agree on Crimea
Bond (interrupting): No, I insist, this is not and has never been a part of our job. Our job is to look good in a suit, order fine food and drink, escape death traps, defuse doomsday devices, save the world, and to make responsible and discretionary use of our License to Kill
(at this point, Bond has become overexcited and is waving his gun around the room as he rants, like Travolta arguing there is no God in Pulp Fiction)
Castro (reaching out to push Bond’s gun slightly further away from his face): License to kill? What’s this? Do you propose to kill me?
Bond: No, that was just an example of our normal responsibilities falling within our official job description, whereas toppling dictators…
Alec (gesturing to stop talking): ixnay, James, ixnay!
Castro: Guards! Remove this man!
(two guards enter the room and grab Bond’s shoulders from behind, pulling him backwards out the door while his heels drag on the floor. Alec has stepped back towards the window so as to not get himself also dragged out)
Bond: Alec, for heaven’s sake do something! (door slams, leaving Castro and Alec alone in the room)
Castro: Now where were we?
Alec: The villa in Crimea, I can assure you there are many beautiful Soviet women in nearby villas and the climate is not so much cooler than here, and we can always arrange to have your cigars imported…
Castro: Yes, I think we are going to get along famously you and I, here have a cigar.
(both men light cigars and lean back in chairs with feet up on Castro’s desk. Castro turns the tape recorder back on) .
Castro: ...and check out this decadent bourgeois Cuban jazz ensemble, that Rubén González on piano is really good.
(Both men smoke and tap their feet to the music, only momentarily distracted by the shots of a firing squad outside the window)
😱 Hey, wait, you can't kill James Bo.... Oh. Right. Sorry.
But 006 has died 24 more times than 007.
there there, dont worry: the gunshot was offstage and we did not see a body. I'm sure Bond'll find a way out of this shock ending, and those inseparable pals shall meet again for further exciting adventures
😂
My brain took a sidestep from Alec Trevelyan, 006, and this is what came out....
1995. The Bean household. Sean is pacing up and down, never getting too far away from the telephone.
Mrs Bean: Oh sit down, Sean.
Sean: I can’t, I just can’t.
Mrs Bean: If they want you, they’ll phone. You know that.
Sean: I’m too nervous, I don’t want to get too far from the phone.
Mrs Bean: Look, just have a seat and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.
Sean: That’s just it, I can’t. It’s all over town that Timothy Dalton has quit the part of James Bond and Eon are searching for a replacement.
Mrs Bean: And they will phone you if you’re needed.
Sean: I don’t want to take any chance of missing that call.
Mrs Bean: So if they call then you want to be… sharp?
Sean: Oh, very funny.
Mrs Bean: Look, they won’t want you anyway, you know?
Sean: What? Why on earth not?
Mrs Bean: It's because you always die in your movies. Everyone knows that. And everyone knows that James Bond doesn’t die in his films.
Sean: Clearly you didn’t see Timothy Dalton, then.
Mrs Bean: And also you’re blond. Everyone knows James Bond isn’t blond.
Sean: Yes, but-
Mrs Bean: Just relax and sit down.
Sean: You remember when I was keen to play a part in “Patriot Games”?
Mrs Bean: Yes, that’s right- one of the Jack Ryan movies.
Sean: I was looking forward to playing Jack Ryan, yes?
Mrs Bean: I know, and you ended up playing the villain.
Sean: Yes, they got some other actor to play Jack Ryan.
Mrs Bean: Sean… that “some other actor” was Harrison Ford, you know.
Sean: Well, yes.
Mrs Bean: You don’t think that just might have had something to do with it?
Sean: Maybe, yes, I suppose so. But I’m determined not to let the same thing happen again!
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2021. Eon HQ, under a mortuary outside Las Vegas. The phone rings.
MGW: Yes?
Secretary: (On phone.) I have Mr Sean Bean on the line for you.
MGW: Oh God! Here, Gregg- you take this call!
Gregg Wilson: What? Why me?
MGW: It’s Sean Bean!
Gregg: So? I barely met him during “GoldenEye”, you know him a lot better, Dad.
MGW: That’s not the point- I told him back then that he couldn’t be James Bond because everyone knows he always dies in his movies and James Bond doesn’t die, and because he has blond hair and James Bond has dark hair.
Gregg: Yeah, so?
MGW: He’s just seen “No Time To Die”!