1965. The House Of Cash. Johnny Cash sits at a small table, his guitar strapped on. On the table are a pen and paper. Johnny strums a bit on his guitar, hums, then writes on the paper. June Carter comes in.
June: Hello there, Cash.
Johnny: Hi, June.
(Kiss, kiss.)
June: So, whatcha doin’ there?
Johnny: Oh, just writin’ a song.
June: That’s fine, just fine. Which prison is this one about?
Johnny: June, darlin’, I don’t just write songs about prisons!
June: So it’s about some cowboy who’s goin’ to be hanged?
Johnny: No, no- listen, you’ve heard of that James Bond character?
June: James Bond? Oh yeah, in the movies- Lord, he’s so sexy, I just love that Irish guy who plays him.
Johnny: I think he’s Scottish, June.
June: Ah, potato potahto. What about him?
Johnny: Well, they’re makin’ a new film about him right now and I thought I’d take a shot at writin’ a song for it.
A shanty town somewhere near Lagos, Nigeria. The street is filled with stray dogs and rusty used cars half covered in mud. People look up as an almost new Toyota Land Cruiser with no visible rust damage enters the street, but they soon go on about their business. Then a black Aston Martin Vantage also enters the street. For some unexplained reason, this car doesn’t have a drop of mud upon it…
Inside the Aston Martin, James Bond is touching his ear.
Bond: M, this is 007. I’m discreetly shadowing the car of Obi Hyena at a safe distance. We are blending into the surroundings as usual. I will check in again later.
(Precious Bush, a randomly selected stunningly beautiful MI6 agent half Bond’s age, sits in the passenger seat.)
Bush: I still say we should’ve rented a car at the airport instead of having the Aston shipped separately from London.
Bond: Rent a Ford Mondeo at the airport? I would never do such a thing! Mondeos don’t have seats made from real leather from nearly extinct savannah animals, night-vision windshields, and a chilled bottle of Bollinger plus two glasses hidden in the centre console. By the way, would you like…
Bush: For the twenty-second time today, James, no- I don’t want champagne during the mission to kill or capture a notorious war lord!
(Hyena’s Toyota stops and the war lord steps out with three bodyguards armed with concealed carry AK-47s. No-one on the street cares. Bond parks his Aston discreetly five feet behind the Toyota, and Precious Bush steps out of the car. She’s dressed in a low-cut red dress much like many other women in the street, although nobody does it better than her. Top marks to anyone who can guess where on her person she could possibly have hidden a weapon.)
Bond: (Whispering.) Everyone’s staring at you!
Bush: I get stared at everywhere, but hot women are known to walk around in Lagos. People who look like you, on the other hand….
(Bond steps out of the Aston Martin. He is wearing an immaculate tux in 110 degrees Fahrenheit. He doesn’t break sweat or attract any mud onto his polished black shoes.)
Bond: Quiet! We’re working undercover, you know.
(Bond confidently sits down by one of the café tables. Bush looks disconcertedly at the people on the street who are either staring openly at the spectacle or politely looking away. Finally she decides to sit down with Bond.)
Bush: I wish you had chosen another outfit for this… outing, James. I haven’t seen anyone in a tuxedo yet.
Bond: On this street, you mean?
Bush: On this continent!
Bond: I’ve worn a tux on all sorts of missions in the past, although I sometimes wear a bespoke suit to dress more casually. I still prefer a tux- you never know when the job may require a visit to a casino.
Bush: Really? And how often does that happen?
Bond: More often than you’d imagine.
Bush: I have to admit the tux does a fairly good job at disguising your… unusual complexion in these parts.
(Bond nods as if his point has just been validated. A man dressed in jeans and a t-shirt walks up to their table. He looks strangely amused.)
Café Owner: (Speaking in English rather than the local language.) Good morning. What would you like to eat?
Bond: A Plat Tres Cher with Russian caviar on the side, please. And we’ll have a red wine from Ancien Chateau Exclusif, a vintage 1987 if possible.
(The man in front of them can’t think of anything to say, so he just stands there like a question mark trying hard not to laugh. Everyone within hearing distance looks and reacts in the same way.)
Bush: (Trying not to blush.) Or if you don’t have that in today, we’d like some pounded yam and some of your best local beer, thank you.
(The man walks back into his café, his shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.)
Bond: (Sighing.) Some day I have to teach you how to order at a restaurant like a proper secret agent, Precious. But today, we have to focus on tailing Hyena.
(Hyena and his lightly armed guards have been observing the hot woman and the white man in the tuxedo like everyone else, but now they suddenly get serious. The bodyguards switch off the safeties on their AKs, but Hyena gestures for them to put down their arms. Instead, he chuckles and picks up his mobile phone.)
Hyena: (Loudly, in English and without actually calling anyone first.) Hallo Bush Viper, this is Obi. I’m just calling to confirm our big meeting of all the evil African war lords tomorrow…. Yes, it’s still in Oblivion, in the deepest darkest jungles of Africa…. At 4am, that’s right.
(Hyena gets up from his chair, closely followed by his bodyguards. As soon as the doors on their car close, we hear muffled laughter from inside the Toyota.)
Bond: (Touching his ear again.) M, this is 007 again. Just calling to say our cover is still working perfectly and I have a lot of intelligence….
1996. The home of Caroline Bliss. She is pacing up and down, but never getting too far from the telephone.
Husband: Oh, Caroline, just sit down.
Caroline: I can’t, I just can’t. They start shooting the new James Bond film next week and I haven’t had a call!
Husband: Sit down and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.
Caroline: That’s just it, I can’t sit down! They’ve got to phone me, they’ve just got to.
Husband: If they want you, they’ll tell you.
Caroline: How can they not want me? After I was Miss Moneypenny in the last two James Bond movies.
Husband: Yes, I know.
Caroline: I know they’ve got a new James Bond, it would be silly to change the Moneypenny- that would be almost as silly as changing the M!
Husband: Yes, darling, you’re right.
Caroline: I’ve just had a thought- maybe they want ME to be M!
Husband: Say that again?
Caroline: Yes, that’s it- Lois Maxwell asked if she could be promoted to be M but they said the time wasn’t right for a female M. Well, it is now!
Husband: Female M? That’ll be the day!
Caroline: There’s a chance of it! After all the head of MI5 in real life is a woman.
Husband: Stella Rimington? I suppose you’re right, there is a chance of it.
Caroline: Yes, that’s it! I know I’m right! They’ve decided they’re going to have a female M and it’ll be me! (She stares at the phone intently.) Now I really can’t wait!
1969. The Connery household. There is a knock at the door, and Mrs Diane Connery answers to find…
Cubby Broccoli: Hello there, Diane.
Diane: Oh. Hello, Cubby.
Cubby: I realise I wasn’t expected, but I hope it’s okay to come in…?
Diane: Well, yes. Of course.
(Cubby enters.)
Diane: You’ll be looking for Sean, I expect?
Cubby: Well, yes.
Diane: He isn’t here.
Cubby: Are you expecting him back anytime soon?
Diane: No, I’m not, as a matter of fact.
Cubby: I was hoping to have a word with him.
Diane: Oh?
Cubby: Yes, one final talk about him being in the next James Bond movie, “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service”.
Diane: Cubby, I would have thought that he’s made his position perfectly clear about that. No, no, and never again.
Cubby: Well, I’ve come with an improved offer-
Diane: It’s not about the money, you know that.
Cubby: Ah, but this time we’re willing to offer him-
Diane: It doesn’t matter. He’s out.
Cubby: (Sighing.) I thought that you would say that, but I also thought that it was worth just one more try. Do you mind if I use your phone before I go?
Diane: Be my guest.
(Cubby picks up the phone and dials a number.)
Cubby: Hello, Harry? … Yes, it’s me. I’m at Sean’s place right now…. No, but his wife has made it perfectly clear that he is definitely not interested… Yes, go ahead and phone that Australian guy…. I’ll see you back at the office… Bye.
(He hangs up.)
Cubby: Well, thanks Diane. It was nice to see you one last time.
Diane: Goodbye, Cubby.
(Cubby leaves. After a moment, a cupboard door opens and a familiar figure emerges, looking around cautiously.)
Sean: Hash he gone?
Diane: Yes, darling.
Sean: That’sh good. Being shtuck with sho many shmelly shocks and shoes and shandals washn’t much fun.
I know I've posted the artwork for these two before, probably got deleted when we maxed out @SiCo's server space. I'll see if I can find them online when I get a moment. Published in STAG magazine, which was not yet a porn magazine, but more of a "men's sweat" tuffguy adventure magazine. Owned by Martin Goodman at the time, same guy who owned Marvel Comics!
Anyway, it's good to be back and here's a new Imaginary Conversation written by Number24 and me.
2023. Eon HQ, under the “Kiss Kiss” club in Nassau.
MGW: So, how many letters have we received today, Barbara?
BB: About 8, 453, 678.
MGW: And after deducting the ones asking us to make a new James Bond film?
BB: Four. Here’s the first one- oh, Michael, take a sniff at that before we open it!
(MGW sniffs the letter.)
MGW: That is one sexy perfume.
BB: Definitely. (She opens the letter.) Ah, it’s from the French Actresses Union.
MGW: That explains the scent. Wait a minute, didn’t we have some trouble with them about us letting their members keep their clothes on in our films?
BB: Yes, but that’s not what this is about. They are thanking us for all the work that Eon has offered to their members since Daniel Craig was miscast as James- oh sorry, that’s just a Freudian typo from Barbel- I should have said cast as James Bond. They are hoping for Eon to take the final step and only cast French actresses rather than just 90%.
MGW: Anything else?
BB: The only let-down as far as they’re concerned was the complete lack of nude scenes for their members in spite of all their requests and pleas.
MGW: Damn, we explained the certification and censorship thing to them over and over.
BB: It goes on to say, all of their members enjoyed the experience of working on the Bond movies despite the fact that none of the actors, directors, etc, had an affair with one of them behind the scenes.
MGW: Are they sure about that?
BB: Are WE sure about that?
MGW: Hmmm, better not go down that line of inquiry.
BB: They end by saying they had very good, if short, friendly relationships with former Bonds and that they hope this fine tradition will start again soon.
MGW: “Soon”?
(They look at each other then burst out laughing.)
BB: Oh, dear- “soon”!!!!
MGW: As if! Anyway, you said there were some other letters?
BB: Yes, there’s one each from the Swiss, Italian, and Turkish tourist agencies thanking us for our co-operation in making the recent Bond movies.
MGW: Sure, but I’m certain they wouldn’t just send us a “thank you” letter. They are clearly after something.
BB: Well, they are all offering us a sizable donation if we completely drop what they call “any unnecessary location scouting in other countries” since Eon has almost totally shot in those countries, and the UK, since 2006 anyway.
MGW: That’s true- is there anything from the UK, though?
BB: Just that one we got yesterday from them asking for money.
(They look at each other again, then once more burst out laughing.)
1979. Brazil. Christopher Wood’s hotel room. He’s on the telephone.
Wood: ….and everything’s all right at school?
Daughter: Yes, Daddy. I’m having a wonderful time!
Wood: Good, good.
Daughter: Although I’m not looking forward to going to the dentist tomorrow.
Wood: Dentist?
Daughter: Yes, you remember- I have to get braces put on my teeth.
Wood: Oh yes, the braces… braces… braces!!!!
Daughter: Daddy? Are you all right?
Wood: Yes, of course, my darling. Love you, I’ll call you back tomorrow.
Daughter: Yes, all-
(But Wood has slammed the phone down. He glances quickly at his watch, then quickly slips on his shoes and grabs his jacket. He runs out of the door of his room.)
Exterior Set, Moonraker. Security guards are all around as Wood comes rushing up.
Guard: Just a moment, please, sir.
Wood: Let me past! I’ve got to get in!
Guard: It’s a closed set, you can’t get in without showing some ID.
Wood: But I’m the writer!
Guard: Yes, sir, they all say that. No-one gets in without showing their ID.
Wood: Oh, blast.
(He fishes through his pockets, throwing aside battered copies of “Confessions Of A Window Cleaner”, until he finds the correct ID.)
Wood: There, see? I’m the screenwriter!
Guard: All right then.
(The guard stands to the side and Wood rushes up to the set, where Jaws and Dolly are smiling happily at each other as they walk off hand in hand.)
Lewis Gilbert: And… cut! Print that. Well done everybody, we’ll resume tomorrow.
(Everyone starts to move away as Wood hurries to Gilbert.)
Gilbert: Hello, Christopher, what are you doing here?
Wood: You’re just shooting the scene where Dolly helps Jaws out from the wreckage and they smile at each other before going off hand in hand?
Gilbert: That’s right, in fact we’ve just finished that. Went like a dream.
Wood: Call them back! I’ve just had a brilliant idea!
Gilbert: What do you mean, call them back?
Wood: The moment when Jaws smiles at Dolly and she smiles back?
Gilbert: Yes….?
Wood: She should have braces on her teeth! It would be the perfect ending to the scene!
Gilbert: Braces on her teeth?
Wood: Yes, it will parallel the metal teeth that Jaws has! It will help show their instant attraction to each other!
Gilbert: Braces, you say?
Wood: Yes, braces!
Gilbert: Well, Christopher, it’s like this- we’ve just finished shooting for the day, all the photography has been done, and everyone has been sent home. To redo the scene, we’d have to call everyone back plus arrange for the make-up people to make it look like Blanche has braces on her teeth.
Wood: Yes!
Gilbert: It’ll cost a day’s shooting and we’re already behind schedule. There’s no way we can do that now.
Wood: But… but…
Gilbert: Anyway, I wouldn’t worry- it’s not as if anybody’s going to notice and talk about it.
James Bond wakes up on Bartosz Silvertooth’s luxury yacht. At first he thinks he’s still drunk because he’s struggling to focus, but then he realizes he’s merely a victim of violence and sighs with relief. A beautiful woman bends over him, she has short blonde hair and is wearing a man’s suit- if men used skin-tight suits and were shaped like that.
Woman: My name is Catty Vastly.
Bond: I musht be dreaming….
(After a short pause Bond decides he’s awake.)
Bond: I thought I’d wake up hungover.
Woman… I mean, Vastly: That’ll come later.
(She brings out a baton. Bond gets vaguely uneasy.)
Vastly: Baton. Knockout hit to the occiput. Sorry about the toupee.
(Bond rubs the back of his head where there is now less hair than he had expected.)
Bond: Pleashe, no apologiesh neshesharry. I detesht the damn thingsh.
Vastly: Then why wear it?
Bond: My bossh makesh me.
Vastly: M makesh you, sorry, I mean M makes you wear a toupee?
Bond: No, M doeshn’t care but Cubby Broccoli doesh. Anyway, I’m delighted to be here and by the way, where ish here?
Vastly: Just off the coast of the States.
Bond: Easht or Wesht coasht?
Vastly: No-one cares. My-Wai!
(A pretty Asian woman in an impractical but revealing uniform enters. Catty seems even more delighted to see her than Bond is.)
My-Wai: Can I do something for you, Mr Bond?
(Bond tries to think of an inappropriate quip, but his head hurts too much.)
Bond: Jusht a double- no make that a triple vodka martini. Shaken, not shtirred. And ash quick ash you can, pleashe. I feel the hangover is headed my way at any moment now.
(My-Wai doesn’t reply, but she gives Catty a strange smile before she returns to the bar.)
Bond: Aren’t you having a drink too, Catty?
Vastly: No, thank you. I’m the Captain of the boat. I have to stay sober…. (She turns her head from My-Wai to look at Bond.) ….unfortunately.
Bond: Um….?
Vastly: And you can turn off the charm. I’m immune.
Bond: (Suddenly pale from shock and confusion- this doesn’t usually happen to him.) But… bu… but….
(Bond manages to pull himself together. He had survived worse situations, but right now he couldn’t remember when or where. There was only one thing left to do- and this technique had never failed him.)
Bond: What will it take for you to shee thingsh My-Wai, er, I mean my way?
(Bond kisses Catty in a manly, pre-women’s lib and very much pre-pre-pre woke way but in spite of this Catty judo-throws him to the deck.)
Vastly: (Wiping her mouth with her hand.) Phu Yuck!
Bond: !!!!???!!!
(Catty quickly whips out her baton again and knocks Bond out with a practised swing.)
Vastly: Now, where were we?
(Catty and My-Wai smile at each other and then kiss in a way that would be very much in violation of the Covid rules. End credits roll.)
Thank you, CHB. I love those covers too, and thought they'd add a little something.
1979. Eon HQ, underneath a cable car base in Brazil. Christopher Wood enters.
Cubby: Come in, Christopher, sit down.
(Wood sits.)
Cubby: Is everything okay with you? Is the office all right, is the food okay, is the typewriter the kind you like?
Wood: (Slightly puzzled.) Yes, everything is just fine.
MGW: Are you getting enough coffee? Would you prefer something stronger?
Wood: No, no, everything is just fine. What’s up?
Cubby: It’s just that…..
Wood: Yes?
MGW: Look, let’s keep this simple. Do you remember when you started writing this script?
Wood: Yes, of course.
Cubby: And we told you what we wanted?
Wood: Yes, very clearly.
MGW: And what did we say?
Wood: You said to do “The Spy Who Loved Me” again only this time in space because “Star Wars” and other space films had been such a big success.
Cubby: That’s right.
MGW: What else did we say?
Wood: You said I was to ignore the book and just write another version of “The Spy Who Loved Me”.
Cubby: And that is the problem. Now, we were okay with the villain having the same name as in the book.
Wood: Hugo Drax, right.
MGW: And we were okay with him being a billionaire who is ostensibly benefiting the West by spending his own money on this Moonraker rocket, just like in the book.
Wood: Yes, I know.
Cubby: And we were happy that a beautiful girl ostensibly working for Drax would actually be working undercover for a service friendly with Bond’s and that the two would join up and work together, just like in the book.
Wood: Sure. So, what’s the problem?
MGW: We have found a scene in the script that is quite clearly based on what is in the book.
Wood: What? Where?
Cubby: It’s the part where Drax puts Bond and the girl beneath his Moonraker so they can be burnt to death when it takes off, but they escape by hiding up a ventilation shaft.
Wood: Oh, that’s in the book?
MGW: Of course it is, you must have noticed.
Wood: Well, I’ll just write another scene and-
Cubby: It’s too late now, Ken Adam has built a great set where this is going to happen.
Wood: Ah. I see.
Cubby: So we’re going to go ahead and shoot it, but don’t let it happen again!
It’s widely known that Michael G. Wilson is the stepson of Albert R. Broccoli. What’s not so widely known is that his father, Lewis Wilson, was the screen’s first Batman….
1946. The Wilson household. Young Michael sees an open suitcase in his parents’ room. Being a naturally curious kid, he takes a look inside only to find…
Michael: What? The Batsuit! You’ve gotta be kidding me!
(Lewis comes into his room to find his son examining the contents of his suitcase.)
Lewis: Michael, what are you doing there?
Michael: Dad! I was just… just…
Lewis: Well, never mind. On you go back to your room and-
Michael: But Dad, this is Batman’s costume!
Lewis: Yes, I know, but-
Michael: Dad… You’re Batman!!!!
Lewis: No, I’m just an-
Michael: I can’t wait to tell all the kids at school about this!
Lewis: No, Michael, please don’t.
Michael: But…. Oh, I get it- this is your secret identity.
Lewis: (Not wanting to shatter his son’s dreams.) Er…. Yes, that’s it.
Michael: Holy secret identity, Dad!
Lewis: (Trying to let him down gently.) Now, Michael, I’m not really Batman.
Michael: Sure, Dad, I get it, of course not. (He winks.) Where’s the secret Batphone you get all your messages from Commissioner Gordon on?
Lewis: Look, son, I-
Michael: Is the Batcave under our basement?
Lewis: No, Michael.
Michael: Can I be Robin?
Lewis: No, Michael, now, listen to me just one moment.
Michael: But wait a minute, Dad- if you’re Batman, what about Bruce Wayne?
Lewis: Well, I won’t tell him if you don’t!
Michael: I promise! I won’t tell Bruce Wayne!
Lewis: (Realising he has to be upfront.) That’s good, now listen to me, son. I’m an actor- I play Batman in the movies.
Michael: You only pretend to be Batman?
Lewis: Yes. That’s right.
Michael: (Disappointedly.) Oh. I got it.
Lewis: So are we all clear, now?
Michael: Yes, Dad. But let me tell you one thing!
Lewis: Yes, of course.
Michael: When I grow up I’m going to make lots and lots of movies about Batman!
A scene was written with Drax holding a meeting there, but accounts vary as to whether it was shot or not. This accounts for the table and chairs which are otherwise unnecessary.
Edit- I have a very faint memory of seeing a still where Drax is holding that meeting, but I can't confirm it.
Chair: ….and I am very pleased to say that the book “On His Majesty’s Secret Service”, which we commissioned from Charlie Higson, has been a roaring success. We have sold many more than we had anticipated, and critical response has been overwhelmingly in favour.
Finance Director: And this has been a welcome boost to our funds.
Chair: Yes, indeed.
Planning Director: So we are already making plans to follow this up.
Finance: So soon?
Planning: Yes, of course. Who do you think we are, Eon Productions?
Finance: Point taken.
Chair: Our postbag has been bulging, absolutely bulging.
Planning: How many letters?
Chair: Oh, at least 100,000.
Finance: And once you subtract all the ones from Roland Hulme complaining about our recent edits to the Fleming works?
Chair: Er… about 12. But that’s still good!
Finance: So, I take it you’ve already been in touch with Charlie Higson about writing another Bond book, then?
Planning: Now, you would think that would be the obvious and most sensible course to take.
Finance: Of course.
Planning: So we’re thinking about asking Raymond Benson, or maybe Jeffrey Deaver.
Finance: What???
Planning: It seems sensible enough to us- they’re both authors with experience.
Finance: So, let me get this straight- we’ve just had a big success with a James Bond book by Charlie Higson.
Planning: That’s right.
Finance: And you’re not going to ask him to write another?
Planning: Well, we’ve just done something sensible by having him write a book for us and we wouldn’t want to do two sensible things in a row.
Finance: Hmmm… are you sure we’re not Eon Productions?
Planning: Of course not, we’re not wasting several years here.
(There is the sound of shouting from the street below.)
Chair: What’s that?
Planning: It’s only Anthony Horowitz- just ignore him.
2023. The emtiem household. In a room full of artwork (mainly of James Bond, although one is the Mona Lisa with “Leonardo” scratched out and “emtiem” inserted) the householder lies fast asleep.
1965. Eon HQ, disguised as a golf club in S/E England.
Harry: What do you mean, you don’t know what Bond is to say?
Richard Maibaum: I mean just what I say- James Bond has killed a bad guy on a beach and he has to say something funny and I don’t know what that should be.
Cubby: Maybe you should just relax, have a couple of drinks, sleep on it and see if you can think of something in the morning.
Kevin McClory: Sleep on it, hell- you’re the writer and you are being paid to write so you better damned well come up with something!
Terence Young: Now, Kevin, don’t you think you’re being a bit-
McClory: You stay out of it, this isn’t your department.
Terence: Hey hold on there-
Cubby: Just stop there guys, everyone take a couple of deep breaths. Let’s calm down.
Harry: Yeah, Richard is usually good at thinking these things up.
Terence: Of course he is.
Richard: Thanks, guys.
McClory: Screw that, either you think of something right now or you’re off the picture.
Monday: Another day when the limo didn’t turn up to take me to the set. Gonna have to speak to Saltzman again.
Enjoyed the scene this morning. Got up close with that Rigg woman. She’s still pretending not to like me when the scene ends but that’s only a matter of time. Kept being interrupted by Hunt saying more, more or less, less as if he knows what to do better than me!
The diary of Diana Rigg.
Monday: Another scene with George and I having to like each other. I’ve tried to make it clear to him that it’s only for the scene and that everything stops when the director yells “Cut!” but I don’t think he’s listening.
Tuesday: Today the Rigg lady had to kiss me. I can tell from a woman’s kiss if she’s panting for it so I slipped her the tongue. Gawd, she sure can give a slap!
The diary of Diana Rigg
Tuesday: Most unpleasant on the set this morning. I don’t think George can tell the difference between acting and real life! He seems to think that I’m in love with him just because my character is! I had to have a word with Peter, the director, to make sure this sort of thing doesn’t happen again. He said that would be difficult because we’re supposed to be deeply in love with each other so naturally have to kiss. I’m thinking of spraying my mouth with garlic.
Wednesday: Strewth, my mouth tastes like a sewer in Paris! That stuck up English Sheila had been eating something awful just before we had to kiss! I’m gonna be giving her a wide berth in future!
Comments
🤣🤣🤣
1965. The House Of Cash. Johnny Cash sits at a small table, his guitar strapped on. On the table are a pen and paper. Johnny strums a bit on his guitar, hums, then writes on the paper. June Carter comes in.
June: Hello there, Cash.
Johnny: Hi, June.
(Kiss, kiss.)
June: So, whatcha doin’ there?
Johnny: Oh, just writin’ a song.
June: That’s fine, just fine. Which prison is this one about?
Johnny: June, darlin’, I don’t just write songs about prisons!
June: So it’s about some cowboy who’s goin’ to be hanged?
Johnny: No, no- listen, you’ve heard of that James Bond character?
June: James Bond? Oh yeah, in the movies- Lord, he’s so sexy, I just love that Irish guy who plays him.
Johnny: I think he’s Scottish, June.
June: Ah, potato potahto. What about him?
Johnny: Well, they’re makin’ a new film about him right now and I thought I’d take a shot at writin’ a song for it.
June: Johnny, that’s a great idea!
Johnny: You wanna hear it?
June: Of course I do!
Johnny: Ok, then-
(Johnny strums his guitar and begins to sing.)
Thunderball Opening with Johnny Cash - YouTube
Johnny: So, whaddya think?
June: What do I think? I think it sounds great and you gotta let them hear about it right now.
Johnny: Yeah, I’m gonna send it to the producer today.
June: You do that- he’s just gonna love it!
Johnny: Yeah, I got his name right here. What could go wrong?
A shanty town somewhere near Lagos, Nigeria. The street is filled with stray dogs and rusty used cars half covered in mud. People look up as an almost new Toyota Land Cruiser with no visible rust damage enters the street, but they soon go on about their business. Then a black Aston Martin Vantage also enters the street. For some unexplained reason, this car doesn’t have a drop of mud upon it…
Inside the Aston Martin, James Bond is touching his ear.
Bond: M, this is 007. I’m discreetly shadowing the car of Obi Hyena at a safe distance. We are blending into the surroundings as usual. I will check in again later.
(Precious Bush, a randomly selected stunningly beautiful MI6 agent half Bond’s age, sits in the passenger seat.)
Bush: I still say we should’ve rented a car at the airport instead of having the Aston shipped separately from London.
Bond: Rent a Ford Mondeo at the airport? I would never do such a thing! Mondeos don’t have seats made from real leather from nearly extinct savannah animals, night-vision windshields, and a chilled bottle of Bollinger plus two glasses hidden in the centre console. By the way, would you like…
Bush: For the twenty-second time today, James, no- I don’t want champagne during the mission to kill or capture a notorious war lord!
(Hyena’s Toyota stops and the war lord steps out with three bodyguards armed with concealed carry AK-47s. No-one on the street cares. Bond parks his Aston discreetly five feet behind the Toyota, and Precious Bush steps out of the car. She’s dressed in a low-cut red dress much like many other women in the street, although nobody does it better than her. Top marks to anyone who can guess where on her person she could possibly have hidden a weapon.)
Bond: (Whispering.) Everyone’s staring at you!
Bush: I get stared at everywhere, but hot women are known to walk around in Lagos. People who look like you, on the other hand….
(Bond steps out of the Aston Martin. He is wearing an immaculate tux in 110 degrees Fahrenheit. He doesn’t break sweat or attract any mud onto his polished black shoes.)
Bond: Quiet! We’re working undercover, you know.
(Bond confidently sits down by one of the café tables. Bush looks disconcertedly at the people on the street who are either staring openly at the spectacle or politely looking away. Finally she decides to sit down with Bond.)
Bush: I wish you had chosen another outfit for this… outing, James. I haven’t seen anyone in a tuxedo yet.
Bond: On this street, you mean?
Bush: On this continent!
Bond: I’ve worn a tux on all sorts of missions in the past, although I sometimes wear a bespoke suit to dress more casually. I still prefer a tux- you never know when the job may require a visit to a casino.
Bush: Really? And how often does that happen?
Bond: More often than you’d imagine.
Bush: I have to admit the tux does a fairly good job at disguising your… unusual complexion in these parts.
(Bond nods as if his point has just been validated. A man dressed in jeans and a t-shirt walks up to their table. He looks strangely amused.)
Café Owner: (Speaking in English rather than the local language.) Good morning. What would you like to eat?
Bond: A Plat Tres Cher with Russian caviar on the side, please. And we’ll have a red wine from Ancien Chateau Exclusif, a vintage 1987 if possible.
(The man in front of them can’t think of anything to say, so he just stands there like a question mark trying hard not to laugh. Everyone within hearing distance looks and reacts in the same way.)
Bush: (Trying not to blush.) Or if you don’t have that in today, we’d like some pounded yam and some of your best local beer, thank you.
(The man walks back into his café, his shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.)
Bond: (Sighing.) Some day I have to teach you how to order at a restaurant like a proper secret agent, Precious. But today, we have to focus on tailing Hyena.
(Hyena and his lightly armed guards have been observing the hot woman and the white man in the tuxedo like everyone else, but now they suddenly get serious. The bodyguards switch off the safeties on their AKs, but Hyena gestures for them to put down their arms. Instead, he chuckles and picks up his mobile phone.)
Hyena: (Loudly, in English and without actually calling anyone first.) Hallo Bush Viper, this is Obi. I’m just calling to confirm our big meeting of all the evil African war lords tomorrow…. Yes, it’s still in Oblivion, in the deepest darkest jungles of Africa…. At 4am, that’s right.
(Hyena gets up from his chair, closely followed by his bodyguards. As soon as the doors on their car close, we hear muffled laughter from inside the Toyota.)
Bond: (Touching his ear again.) M, this is 007 again. Just calling to say our cover is still working perfectly and I have a lot of intelligence….
1996. The home of Caroline Bliss. She is pacing up and down, but never getting too far from the telephone.
Husband: Oh, Caroline, just sit down.
Caroline: I can’t, I just can’t. They start shooting the new James Bond film next week and I haven’t had a call!
Husband: Sit down and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.
Caroline: That’s just it, I can’t sit down! They’ve got to phone me, they’ve just got to.
Husband: If they want you, they’ll tell you.
Caroline: How can they not want me? After I was Miss Moneypenny in the last two James Bond movies.
Husband: Yes, I know.
Caroline: I know they’ve got a new James Bond, it would be silly to change the Moneypenny- that would be almost as silly as changing the M!
Husband: Yes, darling, you’re right.
Caroline: I’ve just had a thought- maybe they want ME to be M!
Husband: Say that again?
Caroline: Yes, that’s it- Lois Maxwell asked if she could be promoted to be M but they said the time wasn’t right for a female M. Well, it is now!
Husband: Female M? That’ll be the day!
Caroline: There’s a chance of it! After all the head of MI5 in real life is a woman.
Husband: Stella Rimington? I suppose you’re right, there is a chance of it.
Caroline: Yes, that’s it! I know I’m right! They’ve decided they’re going to have a female M and it’ll be me! (She stares at the phone intently.) Now I really can’t wait!
1969. The Connery household. There is a knock at the door, and Mrs Diane Connery answers to find…
Cubby Broccoli: Hello there, Diane.
Diane: Oh. Hello, Cubby.
Cubby: I realise I wasn’t expected, but I hope it’s okay to come in…?
Diane: Well, yes. Of course.
(Cubby enters.)
Diane: You’ll be looking for Sean, I expect?
Cubby: Well, yes.
Diane: He isn’t here.
Cubby: Are you expecting him back anytime soon?
Diane: No, I’m not, as a matter of fact.
Cubby: I was hoping to have a word with him.
Diane: Oh?
Cubby: Yes, one final talk about him being in the next James Bond movie, “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service”.
Diane: Cubby, I would have thought that he’s made his position perfectly clear about that. No, no, and never again.
Cubby: Well, I’ve come with an improved offer-
Diane: It’s not about the money, you know that.
Cubby: Ah, but this time we’re willing to offer him-
Diane: It doesn’t matter. He’s out.
Cubby: (Sighing.) I thought that you would say that, but I also thought that it was worth just one more try. Do you mind if I use your phone before I go?
Diane: Be my guest.
(Cubby picks up the phone and dials a number.)
Cubby: Hello, Harry? … Yes, it’s me. I’m at Sean’s place right now…. No, but his wife has made it perfectly clear that he is definitely not interested… Yes, go ahead and phone that Australian guy…. I’ll see you back at the office… Bye.
(He hangs up.)
Cubby: Well, thanks Diane. It was nice to see you one last time.
Diane: Goodbye, Cubby.
(Cubby leaves. After a moment, a cupboard door opens and a familiar figure emerges, looking around cautiously.)
Sean: Hash he gone?
Diane: Yes, darling.
Sean: That’sh good. Being shtuck with sho many shmelly shocks and shoes and shandals washn’t much fun.
2023. The home of Bond Fan. His Best Friend Forever has come round, bearing a fairly large cardboard box.
Bond Fan: …and what’s this you’ve brought with you?
BFF: Ah, this is something that I thought you might be interested in. I know, of course, that you are a devoted James Bond fan-
Bond Fan: I thought you might have noticed that.
BFF: - so when I received this all the way from America, I thought you might be interested.
Bond Fan: So, what’s this?
BFF: You remember that my grandfather had moved to the States many years ago?
Bond Fan: Yes, and that he died just recently.
BFF: Well, I got this in his will. I think it’s some James Bond books but I don’t recognize many of the titles.
Bond Fan: Yes, they changed some of them for the American market. I believe that my cyberfriend @Silhouette Man wrote an article on it.
BFF: Let’s take a look. Here’s one called “You Asked For It”.
Bond Fan: Now that’s “Casino Royale”- look, it’s there in the small print.
BFF: Why did they change it?
Bond Fan: The urban myth goes that the publisher thought that the Americans wouldn’t be able to pronounce the original title.
BFF: That can’t be true, because the film is still called “Casino Royale” and nobody complained about that.
Bond Fan: And the previous two versions were both called that, as well.
BFF: Huh?
Bond Fan: Never mind. Ah, here’s “Too Hot To Handle”.
BFF: Yes, what’s that one?
Bond Fan: It’s “Moonraker”- here, again it’s in the small print.
BFF: And what about “The Three-Nippled Assassin”?
Bond Fan: Oh, that’s “The Man With The Golden Gun”, obviously. You’ve seen the film, you remember that Christopher Lee had three nipples?
BFF: Of course. What’s this one, “The Count On The Mount”?
Bond Fan: That’s “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service”.
BFF: Oh yes, George Lazenby is in that.
Bond Fan: Not in the book he isn’t.
BFF: “The Gold Paint Killer”?
Bond Fan: Oh come on, even you should be able to get that one. I know you’ve seen the film.
BFF: It’s “Goldfinger”, of course. “Trigger Finger”?
Bond Fan: “The Living Daylights”.
BFF: Yes, it’s in the same volume as “The Major And The Octopus” which I’m pretty sure must be “Octopussy”.
Bond Fan: That’ll be right.
BFF: “Nude Girl Of Nightmare Key”?
Bond Fan: It’s “Dr No”.
BFF: What’s “Motel Nymph”?
Bond Fan: “The Spy Who Loved Me”.
BFF: What? There’s no motel in that, just a lot of submarines and pyramids and Russian agents!
Bond Fan: Well, you see… How about you just read it for yourself and find out?
(Some of these are real, some are certainly not. If anyone has more ideas for these, please put them below!)
Great stuff with those invented titles, @Barbel, and thanks for the mention! 😀
@Barbel said
BFF: Here’s one called “You Asked For It”.
Bond Fan: Now that’s “Casino Royale”- look, it’s there in the small print.
BFF: Why did they change it?
Bond Fan: The urban myth goes that the publisher thought that the Americans wouldn’t be able to pronounce the original title.
____________________________________________
in the CBC interview Fleming himself pronounces it Royal, not Roy Al!
_____________________________________________
@Barbel said
BFF: “Nude Girl Of Nightmare Key”?
Bond Fan: It’s “Dr No”.
BFF: What’s “Motel Nymph”?
Bond Fan: “The Spy Who Loved Me”.
_____________________________________________
I know I've posted the artwork for these two before, probably got deleted when we maxed out @SiCo's server space. I'll see if I can find them online when I get a moment. Published in STAG magazine, which was not yet a porn magazine, but more of a "men's sweat" tuffguy adventure magazine. Owned by Martin Goodman at the time, same guy who owned Marvel Comics!
Yes, that would be nice, thanks.
heres the first page illustration of Motel Nymph
I know I have these all saved to my harddrive, but we cant just upload graphics anymore, so I gotta look for existing images online to link to
the illustrated 007 blog shows some more illos from Motel Nymph
the same blog also has the illos from Nude Girl Of Nightmare Key, but theyre very small
(btw searching google for images named "Nude Girl" gets a lot of irrelevant results)
I'd guess 007 Magazine would have these illos somewhere on their site, but I'm not having luck finding them.
aha heres Nude Girl Of Nightmare Key at higher resolution
"BTW searching for images named 'Nude Girl' gets a lot of irrelevant results"
Shocking. Positively shocking!
Thanks, @caractacus potts, much appreciated. I've now got a mental picture of N24 searching for those images.
May 2023. Barbel and Bride Of Barbel arrive in Norway, at Gardermoen Airport Oslo.
Barbel: Somehow I thought it would be colder here.
Bride: We’re pretty much on the same latitude as Northern Scotland, but it will get much colder to the north here.
Barbel: Ah, I see.
Bride: It was very nice of your friend Number24 to pay for our flights.
Barbel: As well as putting us up in the best hotel in town.
Bride: You said he’d pick us up at the airport?
Barbel: Yes, I believe that’s him over there.
Bride: Yes, I see him waving. He must have recognised you.
Barbel: Well, there can’t be many visitors to Norway wearing a kilt, a teeshirt saying “007”, and carrying a double bass.
Bride: That’s a nice car he’s got. It looks very familiar.
Barbel: Yes….
Bride: I’ll get in the back, you get in the front.
Barbel: No way!
Bride: Yes, you should- he’s your friend.
Barbel: I know better than to sit in the front passenger seat of an Aston Martin DB5!
(Hi guys, I’ll respond to the PMs soon.)
😂😂😂
😂😂😂
Hey, I told you not to post any photos of me in the forum!
Oh, so you did. Sorry!
Anyway, it's good to be back and here's a new Imaginary Conversation written by Number24 and me.
2023. Eon HQ, under the “Kiss Kiss” club in Nassau.
MGW: So, how many letters have we received today, Barbara?
BB: About 8, 453, 678.
MGW: And after deducting the ones asking us to make a new James Bond film?
BB: Four. Here’s the first one- oh, Michael, take a sniff at that before we open it!
(MGW sniffs the letter.)
MGW: That is one sexy perfume.
BB: Definitely. (She opens the letter.) Ah, it’s from the French Actresses Union.
MGW: That explains the scent. Wait a minute, didn’t we have some trouble with them about us letting their members keep their clothes on in our films?
BB: Yes, but that’s not what this is about. They are thanking us for all the work that Eon has offered to their members since Daniel Craig was miscast as James- oh sorry, that’s just a Freudian typo from Barbel- I should have said cast as James Bond. They are hoping for Eon to take the final step and only cast French actresses rather than just 90%.
MGW: Anything else?
BB: The only let-down as far as they’re concerned was the complete lack of nude scenes for their members in spite of all their requests and pleas.
MGW: Damn, we explained the certification and censorship thing to them over and over.
BB: It goes on to say, all of their members enjoyed the experience of working on the Bond movies despite the fact that none of the actors, directors, etc, had an affair with one of them behind the scenes.
MGW: Are they sure about that?
BB: Are WE sure about that?
MGW: Hmmm, better not go down that line of inquiry.
BB: They end by saying they had very good, if short, friendly relationships with former Bonds and that they hope this fine tradition will start again soon.
MGW: “Soon”?
(They look at each other then burst out laughing.)
BB: Oh, dear- “soon”!!!!
MGW: As if! Anyway, you said there were some other letters?
BB: Yes, there’s one each from the Swiss, Italian, and Turkish tourist agencies thanking us for our co-operation in making the recent Bond movies.
MGW: Sure, but I’m certain they wouldn’t just send us a “thank you” letter. They are clearly after something.
BB: Well, they are all offering us a sizable donation if we completely drop what they call “any unnecessary location scouting in other countries” since Eon has almost totally shot in those countries, and the UK, since 2006 anyway.
MGW: That’s true- is there anything from the UK, though?
BB: Just that one we got yesterday from them asking for money.
(They look at each other again, then once more burst out laughing.)
1979. Brazil. Christopher Wood’s hotel room. He’s on the telephone.
Wood: ….and everything’s all right at school?
Daughter: Yes, Daddy. I’m having a wonderful time!
Wood: Good, good.
Daughter: Although I’m not looking forward to going to the dentist tomorrow.
Wood: Dentist?
Daughter: Yes, you remember- I have to get braces put on my teeth.
Wood: Oh yes, the braces… braces… braces!!!!
Daughter: Daddy? Are you all right?
Wood: Yes, of course, my darling. Love you, I’ll call you back tomorrow.
Daughter: Yes, all-
(But Wood has slammed the phone down. He glances quickly at his watch, then quickly slips on his shoes and grabs his jacket. He runs out of the door of his room.)
Exterior Set, Moonraker. Security guards are all around as Wood comes rushing up.
Guard: Just a moment, please, sir.
Wood: Let me past! I’ve got to get in!
Guard: It’s a closed set, you can’t get in without showing some ID.
Wood: But I’m the writer!
Guard: Yes, sir, they all say that. No-one gets in without showing their ID.
Wood: Oh, blast.
(He fishes through his pockets, throwing aside battered copies of “Confessions Of A Window Cleaner”, until he finds the correct ID.)
Wood: There, see? I’m the screenwriter!
Guard: All right then.
(The guard stands to the side and Wood rushes up to the set, where Jaws and Dolly are smiling happily at each other as they walk off hand in hand.)
Lewis Gilbert: And… cut! Print that. Well done everybody, we’ll resume tomorrow.
(Everyone starts to move away as Wood hurries to Gilbert.)
Gilbert: Hello, Christopher, what are you doing here?
Wood: You’re just shooting the scene where Dolly helps Jaws out from the wreckage and they smile at each other before going off hand in hand?
Gilbert: That’s right, in fact we’ve just finished that. Went like a dream.
Wood: Call them back! I’ve just had a brilliant idea!
Gilbert: What do you mean, call them back?
Wood: The moment when Jaws smiles at Dolly and she smiles back?
Gilbert: Yes….?
Wood: She should have braces on her teeth! It would be the perfect ending to the scene!
Gilbert: Braces on her teeth?
Wood: Yes, it will parallel the metal teeth that Jaws has! It will help show their instant attraction to each other!
Gilbert: Braces, you say?
Wood: Yes, braces!
Gilbert: Well, Christopher, it’s like this- we’ve just finished shooting for the day, all the photography has been done, and everyone has been sent home. To redo the scene, we’d have to call everyone back plus arrange for the make-up people to make it look like Blanche has braces on her teeth.
Wood: Yes!
Gilbert: It’ll cost a day’s shooting and we’re already behind schedule. There’s no way we can do that now.
Wood: But… but…
Gilbert: Anyway, I wouldn’t worry- it’s not as if anybody’s going to notice and talk about it.
Pick a year that isn’t 1962. James Bond’s Office. Moneypenny enters, throwing a hat unerringly on the rack in the corner.
Bond: Eve! A sight for sore eyes!
Moneypenny: That’s the sort of thing you always say, Bond.
(She sits on the arm of his chair and slips an arm around his neck.)
Bond: Hey, enough of that. I know where you’ve been.
Moneypenny: Oh Bond, you know I never have eyes for any man except you.
Bond: Flatterer- but don’t stop.
Moneypenny: What does M want me for today?
Bond: Well, don’t say I told you but Trueblood has gone missing in Jamaica.
Moneypenny: Trueblood, eh?
Bond: Yes, and her secretary Strangways, too.
Moneypenny: Hmmm….
(Bond presses a button on the intercom.)
Bond: 007 is here, ma’am.
M: (On intercom.) Send her in.
Bond: In you go, ma’am.
Moneypenny: Perhaps we can continue later, Bond.
Bond: Oh Eve, if only I could trust myself.
This is from Number24.
James Bond wakes up on Bartosz Silvertooth’s luxury yacht. At first he thinks he’s still drunk because he’s struggling to focus, but then he realizes he’s merely a victim of violence and sighs with relief. A beautiful woman bends over him, she has short blonde hair and is wearing a man’s suit- if men used skin-tight suits and were shaped like that.
Woman: My name is Catty Vastly.
Bond: I musht be dreaming….
(After a short pause Bond decides he’s awake.)
Bond: I thought I’d wake up hungover.
Woman… I mean, Vastly: That’ll come later.
(She brings out a baton. Bond gets vaguely uneasy.)
Vastly: Baton. Knockout hit to the occiput. Sorry about the toupee.
(Bond rubs the back of his head where there is now less hair than he had expected.)
Bond: Pleashe, no apologiesh neshesharry. I detesht the damn thingsh.
Vastly: Then why wear it?
Bond: My bossh makesh me.
Vastly: M makesh you, sorry, I mean M makes you wear a toupee?
Bond: No, M doeshn’t care but Cubby Broccoli doesh. Anyway, I’m delighted to be here and by the way, where ish here?
Vastly: Just off the coast of the States.
Bond: Easht or Wesht coasht?
Vastly: No-one cares. My-Wai!
(A pretty Asian woman in an impractical but revealing uniform enters. Catty seems even more delighted to see her than Bond is.)
My-Wai: Can I do something for you, Mr Bond?
(Bond tries to think of an inappropriate quip, but his head hurts too much.)
Bond: Jusht a double- no make that a triple vodka martini. Shaken, not shtirred. And ash quick ash you can, pleashe. I feel the hangover is headed my way at any moment now.
(My-Wai doesn’t reply, but she gives Catty a strange smile before she returns to the bar.)
Bond: Aren’t you having a drink too, Catty?
Vastly: No, thank you. I’m the Captain of the boat. I have to stay sober…. (She turns her head from My-Wai to look at Bond.) ….unfortunately.
Bond: Um….?
Vastly: And you can turn off the charm. I’m immune.
Bond: (Suddenly pale from shock and confusion- this doesn’t usually happen to him.) But… bu… but….
(Bond manages to pull himself together. He had survived worse situations, but right now he couldn’t remember when or where. There was only one thing left to do- and this technique had never failed him.)
Bond: What will it take for you to shee thingsh My-Wai, er, I mean my way?
(Bond kisses Catty in a manly, pre-women’s lib and very much pre-pre-pre woke way but in spite of this Catty judo-throws him to the deck.)
Vastly: (Wiping her mouth with her hand.) Phu Yuck!
Bond: !!!!???!!!
(Catty quickly whips out her baton again and knocks Bond out with a practised swing.)
Vastly: Now, where were we?
(Catty and My-Wai smile at each other and then kiss in a way that would be very much in violation of the Covid rules. End credits roll.)
A little late with this one, but muses don't follow calendars.
March 2023. The Horowitz household. Anthony paces up and down, his phone in hand, while Mrs Horowitz looks on worriedly.
Mrs Horowitz: Oh sit down, Anthony.
Anthony: I can’t, I just can’t.
Mrs Horowitz: Look, if they want you they will call you.
Anthony: That’s just it- I know that IFP will be publishing a new James Bond book this May and I haven’t heard anything.
Mrs Horowitz: Maybe they-
Anthony: And my source told me that they would be approaching a previous Bond author, and I haven’t heard a thing!
Mrs Horowitz: Well, perhaps-
Anthony: I’m the most recent.
Mrs Horowitz: Yes, I know.
Anthony: And they allowed me to use previously unpublished Ian Fleming material to incorporate into my books.
Mrs Horowitz: Two of them, anyway.
Anthony: Yes, well, two out of three ain’t bad.
Mrs Horowitz: So just relax and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.
Anthony: Relax? I can’t relax!
Mrs Horowitz: Well, anyway-
Anthony: My source also told me that they wanted an author who had written more than one James Bond book.
Mrs Horowitz: Like Raymond Benson, you mean?
Anthony: Yes, exactly. They might ask him!
Mrs Horowitz: Or maybe that fellow, what was his name, Deaver?
Anthony: It won’t be Deaver, Boyd, or Faulks- they only had a one book contract.
Mrs Horowitz: That woman who wrote about Miss Moneypenny?
Anthony: Kate Westbrook, well at least that was the name she used? No, I don’t think so. It’s got to be me, I tell you!
I love those Pan mock-up covers!!
And your conversations continue at their usual high quality 🥃
Thank you, CHB. I love those covers too, and thought they'd add a little something.
1979. Eon HQ, underneath a cable car base in Brazil. Christopher Wood enters.
Cubby: Come in, Christopher, sit down.
(Wood sits.)
Cubby: Is everything okay with you? Is the office all right, is the food okay, is the typewriter the kind you like?
Wood: (Slightly puzzled.) Yes, everything is just fine.
MGW: Are you getting enough coffee? Would you prefer something stronger?
Wood: No, no, everything is just fine. What’s up?
Cubby: It’s just that…..
Wood: Yes?
MGW: Look, let’s keep this simple. Do you remember when you started writing this script?
Wood: Yes, of course.
Cubby: And we told you what we wanted?
Wood: Yes, very clearly.
MGW: And what did we say?
Wood: You said to do “The Spy Who Loved Me” again only this time in space because “Star Wars” and other space films had been such a big success.
Cubby: That’s right.
MGW: What else did we say?
Wood: You said I was to ignore the book and just write another version of “The Spy Who Loved Me”.
Cubby: And that is the problem. Now, we were okay with the villain having the same name as in the book.
Wood: Hugo Drax, right.
MGW: And we were okay with him being a billionaire who is ostensibly benefiting the West by spending his own money on this Moonraker rocket, just like in the book.
Wood: Yes, I know.
Cubby: And we were happy that a beautiful girl ostensibly working for Drax would actually be working undercover for a service friendly with Bond’s and that the two would join up and work together, just like in the book.
Wood: Sure. So, what’s the problem?
MGW: We have found a scene in the script that is quite clearly based on what is in the book.
Wood: What? Where?
Cubby: It’s the part where Drax puts Bond and the girl beneath his Moonraker so they can be burnt to death when it takes off, but they escape by hiding up a ventilation shaft.
Wood: Oh, that’s in the book?
MGW: Of course it is, you must have noticed.
Wood: Well, I’ll just write another scene and-
Cubby: It’s too late now, Ken Adam has built a great set where this is going to happen.
Wood: Ah. I see.
Cubby: So we’re going to go ahead and shoot it, but don’t let it happen again!
It’s widely known that Michael G. Wilson is the stepson of Albert R. Broccoli. What’s not so widely known is that his father, Lewis Wilson, was the screen’s first Batman….
1946. The Wilson household. Young Michael sees an open suitcase in his parents’ room. Being a naturally curious kid, he takes a look inside only to find…
Michael: What? The Batsuit! You’ve gotta be kidding me!
(Lewis comes into his room to find his son examining the contents of his suitcase.)
Lewis: Michael, what are you doing there?
Michael: Dad! I was just… just…
Lewis: Well, never mind. On you go back to your room and-
Michael: But Dad, this is Batman’s costume!
Lewis: Yes, I know, but-
Michael: Dad… You’re Batman!!!!
Lewis: No, I’m just an-
Michael: I can’t wait to tell all the kids at school about this!
Lewis: No, Michael, please don’t.
Michael: But…. Oh, I get it- this is your secret identity.
Lewis: (Not wanting to shatter his son’s dreams.) Er…. Yes, that’s it.
Michael: Holy secret identity, Dad!
Lewis: (Trying to let him down gently.) Now, Michael, I’m not really Batman.
Michael: Sure, Dad, I get it, of course not. (He winks.) Where’s the secret Batphone you get all your messages from Commissioner Gordon on?
Lewis: Look, son, I-
Michael: Is the Batcave under our basement?
Lewis: No, Michael.
Michael: Can I be Robin?
Lewis: No, Michael, now, listen to me just one moment.
Michael: But wait a minute, Dad- if you’re Batman, what about Bruce Wayne?
Lewis: Well, I won’t tell him if you don’t!
Michael: I promise! I won’t tell Bruce Wayne!
Lewis: (Realising he has to be upfront.) That’s good, now listen to me, son. I’m an actor- I play Batman in the movies.
Michael: You only pretend to be Batman?
Lewis: Yes. That’s right.
Michael: (Disappointedly.) Oh. I got it.
Lewis: So are we all clear, now?
Michael: Yes, Dad. But let me tell you one thing!
Lewis: Yes, of course.
Michael: When I grow up I’m going to make lots and lots of movies about Batman!
@Barbel said:
_________________________________________
was there an unused scene filmed with Drax actually using that meeting room for something other than killing his enemies?
A scene was written with Drax holding a meeting there, but accounts vary as to whether it was shot or not. This accounts for the table and chairs which are otherwise unnecessary.
Edit- I have a very faint memory of seeing a still where Drax is holding that meeting, but I can't confirm it.
May 2023. IFP (Ian Fleming Publications) HQ.
Chair: ….and I am very pleased to say that the book “On His Majesty’s Secret Service”, which we commissioned from Charlie Higson, has been a roaring success. We have sold many more than we had anticipated, and critical response has been overwhelmingly in favour.
Finance Director: And this has been a welcome boost to our funds.
Chair: Yes, indeed.
Planning Director: So we are already making plans to follow this up.
Finance: So soon?
Planning: Yes, of course. Who do you think we are, Eon Productions?
Finance: Point taken.
Chair: Our postbag has been bulging, absolutely bulging.
Planning: How many letters?
Chair: Oh, at least 100,000.
Finance: And once you subtract all the ones from Roland Hulme complaining about our recent edits to the Fleming works?
Chair: Er… about 12. But that’s still good!
Finance: So, I take it you’ve already been in touch with Charlie Higson about writing another Bond book, then?
Planning: Now, you would think that would be the obvious and most sensible course to take.
Finance: Of course.
Planning: So we’re thinking about asking Raymond Benson, or maybe Jeffrey Deaver.
Finance: What???
Planning: It seems sensible enough to us- they’re both authors with experience.
Finance: So, let me get this straight- we’ve just had a big success with a James Bond book by Charlie Higson.
Planning: That’s right.
Finance: And you’re not going to ask him to write another?
Planning: Well, we’ve just done something sensible by having him write a book for us and we wouldn’t want to do two sensible things in a row.
Finance: Hmmm… are you sure we’re not Eon Productions?
Planning: Of course not, we’re not wasting several years here.
(There is the sound of shouting from the street below.)
Chair: What’s that?
Planning: It’s only Anthony Horowitz- just ignore him.
Thanks to @emtiem
2023. The emtiem household. In a room full of artwork (mainly of James Bond, although one is the Mona Lisa with “Leonardo” scratched out and “emtiem” inserted) the householder lies fast asleep.
emtiem: (Sleeping.) Hmph… mumble… Oh yes, Naomie…..
(A pale figure emerges out of the air and glides towards the bed.)
Ghost: emtiem…..
emtiem: zzzzz……
Ghost: (A bit louder.) emtiem….
emtiem: (Waking.) What? What’s going on?
Ghost: Good evening. Are we awake now?
emtiem: We're not sure. Are we… a ghost?
Ghost: We are indeed.
emtiem: Then we're awake, but we're very puzzled. Are you the Ghost of Hindsight Past?
Ghost: No.
emtiem: Are you the Ghost of Sarcasm Present?
Ghost: No, I am not that either.
emtiem: Then you must be the Ghost of Cynicism Yet To Come!
Ghost: Also no.
emtiem: Then who are you?
Ghost: I am the ghost of he who you so recently called Bertie Brocs.
emtiem: No!
Ghost: It is true. And I have come to chastise you about the names you have been using for me and my family.
emtiem: Aw come on, everybody calls them Mickey ‘n’ Babs.
Ghost: Not that.
emtiem: Well, Bertie Brocs is just a diminutive, you know, an affectionate shortening of your actual name.
Ghost: Oh really? Then how about Fatty?
emtiem: Ah…. Well…
Ghost: A shade disrespectful, don’t you think?
emtiem: Look, I….
Ghost: After all, you could have just said “Chubby”. I mean, I’m not thrilled about it but it’s close enough to my real nickname.
emtiem: Point taken. I promise not to do it again.
Ghost: Just see that you don’t. You can call me Bertie Brocs if you want though, I rather like that one.
emtiem: Fair enough.
(The ghost turns to leave.)
emtiem: Hey, where are you going now?
Ghost: Oh, Ian and Harry and Richard and I are going to pay a visit to two guys called Neal and Robert. See if we can talk some sense into them.
1965. Eon HQ, disguised as a golf club in S/E England.
Harry: What do you mean, you don’t know what Bond is to say?
Richard Maibaum: I mean just what I say- James Bond has killed a bad guy on a beach and he has to say something funny and I don’t know what that should be.
Cubby: Maybe you should just relax, have a couple of drinks, sleep on it and see if you can think of something in the morning.
Kevin McClory: Sleep on it, hell- you’re the writer and you are being paid to write so you better damned well come up with something!
Terence Young: Now, Kevin, don’t you think you’re being a bit-
McClory: You stay out of it, this isn’t your department.
Terence: Hey hold on there-
Cubby: Just stop there guys, everyone take a couple of deep breaths. Let’s calm down.
Harry: Yeah, Richard is usually good at thinking these things up.
Terence: Of course he is.
Richard: Thanks, guys.
McClory: Screw that, either you think of something right now or you’re off the picture.
Richard: (Reluctantly.) Yes, Kevin.
McClory: I think you get the point.
Richard: Get the point….
1969.
The diary of George Lazenby
Monday: Another day when the limo didn’t turn up to take me to the set. Gonna have to speak to Saltzman again.
Enjoyed the scene this morning. Got up close with that Rigg woman. She’s still pretending not to like me when the scene ends but that’s only a matter of time. Kept being interrupted by Hunt saying more, more or less, less as if he knows what to do better than me!
The diary of Diana Rigg.
Monday: Another scene with George and I having to like each other. I’ve tried to make it clear to him that it’s only for the scene and that everything stops when the director yells “Cut!” but I don’t think he’s listening.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The diary of George Lazenby.
Tuesday: Today the Rigg lady had to kiss me. I can tell from a woman’s kiss if she’s panting for it so I slipped her the tongue. Gawd, she sure can give a slap!
The diary of Diana Rigg
Tuesday: Most unpleasant on the set this morning. I don’t think George can tell the difference between acting and real life! He seems to think that I’m in love with him just because my character is! I had to have a word with Peter, the director, to make sure this sort of thing doesn’t happen again. He said that would be difficult because we’re supposed to be deeply in love with each other so naturally have to kiss. I’m thinking of spraying my mouth with garlic.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The diary of George Lazenby
Wednesday: Strewth, my mouth tastes like a sewer in Paris! That stuck up English Sheila had been eating something awful just before we had to kiss! I’m gonna be giving her a wide berth in future!
The diary of Diana Rigg
Wednesday: Mission accomplished.