Publisher: Ah, come in Mr Gardner, thanks for dropping by.
Gardner: No problem, glad to be of help.
Publisher: A drink perhaps? Three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka-
Gardner: Just a cup of tea please, it is 9.30 in the morning after all.
Publisher: Sorry, force of habit. Now, I expect you’re wondering what this is all about.
Gardner: Well, I do have an inkling.
Publisher: Oh?
Gardner: The framed painting of Ian Fleming behind your desk is a bit of a giveaway.
Publisher: Ah, you spotted that.
Gardner: And all of the James Bond books on that shelf with, if I’m not mistaken, space for a few more…?
Publisher: I can see we’ve got the right man then.
Gardner: I’m thinking you’ve tried Len and J le C and they won’t cough, so you’re landed with handing the cookies in my direction.
Publisher: (Sighs.) Well, you’ve got me there. Len said he had had enough of James Bond, and J le C told me what I could do with my offer.
Gardner: Just so.
Publisher: You’ve heard of Glidrose, I suppose?
Gardner: They’re the company that hold the copyright to Ian Fleming’s stuff, aren’t they?
Publisher: That’s right. Why they don’t just change the name to “Ian Fleming Publications” I don’t know. Well, they’re keen to continue the series of Bond novels and I’d like to ask if you would be interested in doing just that.
Gardner: Why me?
Publisher: You’ve already had a series of secret agent novels with your character Boysie Oakes, plus with your “Moriarty” books you’ve shown you can take over someone else’s character successfully.
Gardner: And I can use all the characters? Miss Moneypenny, Felix Leiter, M, Q…
Publisher: Ah, you can’t use Q- he belongs to Eon Productions.
Gardner: Well, I’ll just call him Major Boothroyd then. I’d like to give him a young female assistant though, someone cute… Q… We’ll call her Q’ute!
Publisher: (Wincing.) If you must.
Gardner: Now, clearly I don’t want to put Bond back in a Bentley car… Aston Martin is too obvious… I know, he can drive a Saab!
Publisher: A Saab? (Begins to wonder if he has picked the right man after all.)
Gardner: Yes, a Saab! I’ll put gadgets in it, of course.
Publisher: But of course.
Gardner: And I’ll set part of it in a big house in Scotland. And have a fight between Bond and the main henchman in the cargo area of a plane.
Publisher: Hmm, don’t know if those ideas would work in a Bond film.
Gardner: And I’d like to continue with the Blofeld plotline.
Publisher: Don’t do everything at once, John, save something for the next novel.
Gardner: Now, what do you think for a title?
Publisher: Let’s keep it simple- “Licence To Kill”?
Gardner: No, that’s terrible. You won’t catch me writing a James Bond book called “Licence To Kill”!
Publisher: Well, maybe “Licence Revoked”?
Gardner: That’s getting better. I’ll give it some thought.
(Reception)
Sybil: Bill Morton’s just telephoned, there are hotel inspectors in town.
Basil: Hotel inspectors, I bet it’s that St. John Smythe fellow who checked in last night...did you see him...who comes in dressed in a tuxedo...I ask you....looked like he walked in from a John Collier window...where is he now?
Sybil: Don’t be silly, Basil, he said his boss didn’t usually book him into the best hotel anywhere and it certainly looks like he hasn’t this time. But he did say there was an occasion in Miami...
(Restaurant)
Bond: Where do I sit?
Manuel: Que? Which room number?
Bond: Seven.
Manuel: (flustered) Room seven...oh oh seven... sit at table seven, please.
(Basil enters)
Basil: Anything to drink, sir?
Bond: I’ll have a vesper.
Basil: Um...and to drink?
Bond: What do you suggest I do with it?
Basil: Well, you can’t drink a scooter can you?
Bond: A vesper...not a Vespa! Never mind let me look at the wine list.
Basil: I can recommend the Phuyuck.
Bond: Phuyuck?
Basil: ‘74, sir!
Bond: No I don’t think so, a bottle of Aloxe-Corton ‘65
Basil: (Impressed) Oh, the Alex Cor-ton?
Bond: And make sure it’s not corked.
Basil: Well it won’t be corked otherwise you can’t drink it. Ah here’s the Major. Major...Mr St. John Smythe , the major is one of our long standing residents.
Major: How do you do...you look rather tanned.
Bond: I’ve just returned from India.
Major: I took a girl to India once, at The Oval, strange thing was that she kept calling the...
Basil: That’s enough of that, Major, go and sit down.
Bond: Are the vegetables in the Spanish omelette, fresh?
Basil: Oh, yes.
Bond: Including the peas?
Basil: No, they’re frozen, but they were perfectly fresh when they were frozen.
Bond: I’m going somewhere else to eat, can you suggest a French restaurant?
Basil: In France, if you catch the tide now you can swim there!
Yeah, well, sometimes nothin' can be a real cool hand.
Wint: Welcome aboard, Mr Kidd.
Kidd: Thank you, Mr Wint. Umm, Mr Wint, where did you get these uniforms?
Wint: Take a look in the closet, Mr Kidd. The Sommelier and the Maitre d' kindly donated them to us before they fell into a bath with an, uh, unfortunate electrical wiring fault.
Kidd: A glowing tribute, Mr Wint. May I assume that the plan is to impersonate them and gain access to Miss Case and Mr Bond's suite?
Wint: You assume correctly Mr Kidd. We shall divert their attention with our delicious descriptions of this evening's menu before despatching them once and for all.
Kidd: But Mr Wint - you know nothing about food and wine. You even think that Beaujolais is a Claret! Look, (he points to a bowl of greenery), what are you going tell them that is?
Wint: Salade Utopia?
Kidd (winces): Wrong. It's a bowl of watercress, Mr Wint. And that? (he points to another plate)
Wint: Oysters Andaluz, Mr Kidd?
Kidd (wincing again): Oysters Andaluz? They don't have oysters in Andalusia. It's a piece of chewing gum some child has dropped in an ashtray on the serving trolley, Mr Wint. And that? (he points to a third plate).
Wint: (Starting to look a bit nervous now) Shashlick?
Kidd: Shaslick? Chicken Shashlick? And I suppose you'll say it's served with sag aloo and an onion bhaji? This is the SS Canberra Mr Wint, not the Streatham Balti House! (He points to a large, conspicuous, ticking device). And just what the hell are you going to do with that?
Wint: I thought I'd cover it in shaving foam and tell them it's a Bombe Surprise.
Kidd (pausing): That might just work, Mr Wint...
1971. (Amsterdam, just after the death of Mrs Whistler.)
Mr Kidd: Shall we dine now, Mr Wint?
Mr Wint: That sounds just right, Mr Kidd.
Mr Kidd: Once I went to a McDonald’s in Paris, Mr Wint.
Mr Wint: Tell me more, Mr Kidd.
Mr Kidd: It's the little differences. I mean, they have the same things over there that we have at home but it's just a little different.
Mr Wint: Can you give me an example, Mr Kidd?
Mr Kidd: In Paris, you can buy a beer in McDonald's. Do you know what they call a Quarter-Pounder with Cheese in Paris, Mr Wint?
Mr Wint: They don't call it a Quarter-Pounder with Cheese?
Mr Kidd: They have the metric system, Mr Wint. They wouldn't know what a Quarter-Pounder is.
Mr Wint: What do they call it, Mr Kidd?
Mr Kidd: They call it a Royale with Cheese, Mr Wint.
Mr Wint: Royale with Cheese.
Mr Kidd: That's right, Mr Wint.
Mr Wint: What do they call a Big Mac?
Mr Kidd: Big Mac's a Big Mac, but they call it Le Big Mac.
Mr Wint: Le Big Mac. What do they call a Whopper, Mr Kidd?
Mr Kidd: I don't know. I didn't go into Burger King, Mr Wint.
Mr Wint: You know what they put on French fries in Holland instead of ketchup?
Mr Kidd: What?
Mr Wint: Mayonnaise. But here we are. After you, Mr Kidd.
Mr Kidd: No, after you, Mr Wint.
{[] Isn't it incredible that C&D and I should write two very similar posts (Wint & Kidd discussing food) at exactly the same time? As he says above, what are the chances?
Of all the characters, in all the Bond stories, in all the world...
Publisher: Ah, good morning Ian, have you had breakfast?
Fleming: Yes, but I seem to have missed dessert.
Publisher: Don’t worry, I’m pouring it as we speak.
Fleming: So, you’ve had a look at my latest manuscript?
Publisher: Oh yes, and wonderful it is too. One of your best.
Fleming: Thank you. (Sips.) And thank you.
Publisher: You’ve excelled yourself this time. On top of an Alp in Switzerland, Bond and this fellow Bleuville, er, Bleuchamp…
Fleming: Blofeld.
Publisher: That’s the one! The same as you had in “Thunderball”.
Fleming: I thought I’d like to have him as a recurring villain.
Publisher: Good idea, and his SPECTRE organisation as well. The female villain, Irma Bunt, she was an excellent character!
Fleming: I plan on bringing her back, too.
Publisher: I loved the ski chase, and the bobsleigh chase, and I loved the whole College Of Arms thing.
Fleming: Well, I thought it would be nice, if ever this was made into a film, to have Sean Connery in a kilt pretending to be a Scottish baronet.
Publisher: That would be interesting, with him seducing the beautiful young ladies in the allergy clinic on top of Piz Gloria.
Fleming: Indeed.
Publisher: I’m not sure how that ties in with the other main plot strand, though- you have James genuinely falling in love with this girl Tracy, to the point of wanting to marry her.
Fleming: Yes?
Publisher: Well, surely he should be faithful to Tracy.
Fleming: Ah, but Bond is on a mission- he’s expected to sacrifice himself.
Publisher: Poor Bond. Speaking of Tracy, I thought you handled that whole relationship beautifully.
Fleming: Thank you.
Publisher: I don’t suppose you’d consider rewriting the ending…? I think it would be nice for us to see Tracy in the next story as Mrs Bond. The two of them, Mrs & Mrs Bond, their guns in hand, jet-setting around the world together versus the villains.
Fleming: (Sits staring at him in silence for a few moments before answering.) I think that I’d like another drink, please.
Publisher: Oh, of course. (Pours.)
Fleming: Are you sure you’ve grasped the point of the story here?
Publisher: Of course- James Bond battles Blofeld and sleeps with women, same as always.
Fleming: (Sighs.) I am trying to make Bond grow as a character. He has a believable adult relationship with Tracy and falls in love with her, but has to balance this against his job. I’ve given more details about his background than ever before to round out his character, and allowed him the chance of genuine happiness before this is violently taken away from him.
Publisher: Yes, but-
Fleming: Have you noticed that apart from Bond the two main characters are a man who wants to be a Count, and a woman who doesn’t want to be a Countess? That was not accidental.
Publisher: So, you are giving us a novel as opposed to a thriller then?
Fleming: That was my intention, yes.
Publisher: Well, be it on your own head Ian. I’d say the public just want Bond to shoot villains and kiss girls and that you’re being a bit too ambitious here.
Fleming: Time will tell.
Publisher: Well, we have all the time in the world...
Scaramanga leads Bond to the giant laser gun: "now I am truly the man, with the golden gun!", presses button, window opens, beach is empty. "wait, didn't you park your plane...?"
Bond: "oh I chose the other side, I wanted to park it out of the sun, you know how steering wheels get in the hot sun"
Scaramanga only has one minion who has to mind the bubbling vats, and NickNack: "NickNack, oh NickNack!" "yes boss?" "NickNack, I need you to disassemble the giant laser gun and move the pieces and reassemble it on the other side of the building"
NickNack: "you mean now, boss, I was just about to start my lunchbreak!"
Scaramanga: "yes now, NickNack. You can take your lunchbreak later.
Ah, Mr Bond, so sorry about the delay. You know, I have a very comfortable waiting room with an excellent supply of magazines, I can call you once NickNack has the giant laser gun reassembled".
(two hours later, on the other side of the building)
Scaramanga "...and now , I truly am, the man, with the golden gun!", presses button, window opens, this beach is empty too.
Bond: "oh, I'm sorry, I could see the sun was moving over the building because it was lunch hour, so I took advantage of the break to move my plane so itd be in the shade for the afternoon. You were saying?"
(ok I made up some new material)
__________________________
1997, a Hamburg hotel room.
Bond and Paris are on the sofa, Bond is trying to think of a suitable topic of conversation.
Bond: You know, that Plenty O'Toole had some big breasts!
Paris: ??? err...
Bond: Yeh, yeh, and that Dink, no wonder they used her in the opening credits and promotional artwork instead of that skinny Jill Masterton, because she too had some big, round, wobbly... (holds hands in front, gesturing and starting to drool)
Paris: ... and these are women? Because their names...
Bond: Yeh, yeh, and, and, and have you noticed that women seem to be getting bigger these days?
Paris: er, maybe...
Bond: Why is that?
Paris: Natural selection, higher nutritional standards in our affluent postwar economy, plus a society that can afford to value the symbolic reproductive significance of the breast rather than the actual reproductive significance of childbreeding hips more typically celebrated as erotic in less affluent cultures?
Bond: Could be, could be natural selection and economic trends, or maybe...?
Paris: Well a lot of women are having them "done"
Bond: Yeh! That's it! Women having them "done"!
So, er, so, uh, how do you like that?
Paris: !!! Well, actually, a lot of people ask me if I've had mine done!
Bond: (gulp!) and, er, uh, heh-heh, uh, er, ...have you?
Paris: Oh, I think you'e about to find out!
Bond: Wow! Ooh boy! Now we're talking! Lemme at'em! Lets go!
(sound of door opening, Moneypenny enters)
Bond: Oh I dont believe this!
Moneypenny: Hi James, I'm just popping in to deliver your plane tickets and fake passport, and...
oh! I didn't realise you had company.
Hello Paris... whoops!
Paris: Moneypenny? You're that chick from the sauna! The one who felt my ...
Moneypenny: I should be going!
Bond: Yes, yes you should!
(Moneypenny quickly exits)
Bond: Don't mind her, she's mentally ill. Now where were we? (begins gesturing with hands again)
Paris: I was just leaving!!!
Bond: (still with the hands but now pleading) Paris, wait...
Paris: I can't believe you sent your boss's secretary into the sauna to feel my breasts!
Bond: But, but Paris, please let me explain...
Paris: I think you're both mentally ill!!
(Paris exits)
Bond finally drops hands, slumps shoulders, defeated...
(Paris re-enters)
Paris: ...and by the way, they're real, and they are Spectacular!!!
(Paris exits, Bond broods, kicking the furniture in dejection)
(sound of approaching footsteps in hallway)
Paris's voice offstage: Hey watch where you're going!
A man's voice offstage, mit der German accent: Who do you sink you're talking to?
(Bond leans head towards corridor, listening in)
Paris's voice offstage: Wait what are you doing with that syringe??
(sound of scuffle, then sound of a woman's body collapsing in the corridor)
(Bond makes a pained grimace)
Bond: Ah, that's a shame!
(suddenly the man mit der German accent appears in the doorway and leers)
Bond: Hello..... Kaufmann!
Kaufmann: Hello..... Jimmy!
M: Attention, everyone! I would just like to wish Major Boothroyd all the best for a long, happy retirement.
All: Cheers! (Glasses raised.)
Q: Thank you all for being here. It’s been a wonderful career working with you all.
Bond: And it is most generous of you to pay for this meal, Q.
M: Hmph! He’s charging it. I’m sure the overburdened British taxpayer will be fascinated to know how the Special Ordnance Section disburses its funds.
Bond: Oh, cheer up M.
Moneypenny: I hope they have angel cake for dessert.
Q: Now, pay attention. Would you like to use chopsticks or standard cutlery? I shall be using standard cutlery.
Bond: You’re joking!
Q: I never joke about my fork, 007.
M: I’d like curried beef.
Tanner: The same for me.
Moneypenny: Sweet and sour chicken, please.
Q: I prefer char siu.
Bond: Char siu? You’re joking!
Q: I never joke about my pork, 007.
Bond: But of course.
Moneypenny: I’d like to make Chinese food at home, but I don’t want to get dishpan hands.
Q: Oh, I make Chinese food all the time at home.
Bond: You’re joking!
Tanner: You must have some wonderful stories, Major Boothroyd.
Moneypenny: Oh, yes, tell us about your younger days!
Q: Well, I take it you remember Kerim Bey?
Bond: Of course. Wonderful man, and a great friend.
M: One of our best Heads of Station ever.
Q: He and I met many years ago. We were in a circus- he was the strongman and I was the magician. We became great friends. I loved those days in the circus with Kerim.
Bond: A circus? You’re joking!
Bond: Moneypenny, after all our unconsummated flirting, I think we should finally spend some time together outside the office. What do you say? Moneypenny: Why James, I'd adore that...if only I could trust myself! Just kidding, I love the idea! Bond: Any thoughts on what you'd like to do? Moneypenny: Well actually, I've been dying to rent two movies that I somehow missed when they came out. One is a biopic of the jazz legend Charlie Parker, which Clint Eastwood directed. The other is that one with Liam Neeson as an ex-CIA man whose daughter is kidnapped by Eastern European gangsters. We only need watch one; which would you prefer?
Publisher: Ah, good morning Ian, come in.
Fleming: Banzai!
Publisher: What? Oh yes, your new manuscript. Do you like Japanese saké, Mr. Fleming, or would you prefer vodka martini? (Hands Fleming a drink.)
Fleming: Oh no, I like saké. Especially when it’s served at the correct temperature, 98.4 degrees Fahrenheit, like this is.
Publisher: I know you got some of your ideas for this on your Japanese trip a few years ago?
Fleming: That’s right. I had two great friends there, Tiger and Dikko, and I’ve based two of the book’s characters on them.
Publisher: And great characters they are, too. I liked seeing Mary Goodnight again- I don’t suppose you could give her more to do in your next book?
Fleming: Tell you what, I’ll make her the leading lady and since you like blondes I’ll change her hair colour to blonde just to please you!
Publisher: Oh, I think I’d like that- just as long as you don’t change James Bond’s hair colour to blond! (Both laugh.)
Fleming: Oh, I would never do that- the fans would create a fuss.
Publisher: Now, I think this Garden of Death idea is fantastic. One of your best ideas ever, I’d say, and I’m sure it will look fantastic when they make a film of this.
Fleming: You don’t think it’s too unbelievable?
Publisher: No no, it’s out of left field but still possible.
Fleming: What did you think of Kissy Suzuki?
Publisher: The Ama diving girl? I loved her and the whole fishing village scenario. Just one thing, though…
Fleming: Yes?
Publisher: The scene where Bond gets disguised to look Japanese by a girl in white underwear- dying his skin, changing his hair? I’m not too comfortable with that.
Fleming: How so?
Publisher: I’m not convinced it’ll play well as time passes. Might have some problems down the line.
Fleming: I’d just leave it. I’m sure it wouldn’t make it into a film version, anyhow. They’d probably leave out the fishing village scenes, too.
Publisher: Very dramatic stuff with Blofeld and Irma Bunt in the castle at the end!
Fleming: Thank you, and I think that will look great on film.
Publisher: Yes, they’d never leave that, and the Garden of Death, out while still including the fishing village and Bond trying to become Japanese. Can you imagine Sean Connery trying to pass for being Japanese? (Both laugh.)
Publisher: Now, the ending- you left it pretty inconclusive. I hope you’re going to continue that in your next book?
Fleming: Do you have any ideas for that yourself?
Publisher: I shall place yourself entirely in your hands, my dear Fleming-san. Rule number one is never do anything for yourself when someone else can do it for you.
M. (On phone, in bed.) That slimy bugger…. Le Chiffre… I’ll see you in the morning. (Puts phone down.)
Man: Who was that?
M: Just work, go back to sleep.
Man: I hate how your work always comes between us. Have you ever thought of taking a normal job? Or even better retiring?
M: I know I can't have this job forever, but I'll be damned if I'm going to leave the department in worse shape than I found it.
Man: Olivia, you've had a great run. You should leave with dignity.
M: To hell with dignity. I'll leave when the job's done. (Man puts the light on, picks up book.)
M: Now what are you doing?
Man: I’m awake now, I might as well read.
M: If you must. I’m going to try to get back to sleep.
Man: Tennyson? You’re reading poetry?
M: It’s my husband’s, better make sure you put it back at the same page.
Comments
Publisher: Ah, come in Mr Gardner, thanks for dropping by.
Gardner: No problem, glad to be of help.
Publisher: A drink perhaps? Three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka-
Gardner: Just a cup of tea please, it is 9.30 in the morning after all.
Publisher: Sorry, force of habit. Now, I expect you’re wondering what this is all about.
Gardner: Well, I do have an inkling.
Publisher: Oh?
Gardner: The framed painting of Ian Fleming behind your desk is a bit of a giveaway.
Publisher: Ah, you spotted that.
Gardner: And all of the James Bond books on that shelf with, if I’m not mistaken, space for a few more…?
Publisher: I can see we’ve got the right man then.
Gardner: I’m thinking you’ve tried Len and J le C and they won’t cough, so you’re landed with handing the cookies in my direction.
Publisher: (Sighs.) Well, you’ve got me there. Len said he had had enough of James Bond, and J le C told me what I could do with my offer.
Gardner: Just so.
Publisher: You’ve heard of Glidrose, I suppose?
Gardner: They’re the company that hold the copyright to Ian Fleming’s stuff, aren’t they?
Publisher: That’s right. Why they don’t just change the name to “Ian Fleming Publications” I don’t know. Well, they’re keen to continue the series of Bond novels and I’d like to ask if you would be interested in doing just that.
Gardner: Why me?
Publisher: You’ve already had a series of secret agent novels with your character Boysie Oakes, plus with your “Moriarty” books you’ve shown you can take over someone else’s character successfully.
Gardner: And I can use all the characters? Miss Moneypenny, Felix Leiter, M, Q…
Publisher: Ah, you can’t use Q- he belongs to Eon Productions.
Gardner: Well, I’ll just call him Major Boothroyd then. I’d like to give him a young female assistant though, someone cute… Q… We’ll call her Q’ute!
Publisher: (Wincing.) If you must.
Gardner: Now, clearly I don’t want to put Bond back in a Bentley car… Aston Martin is too obvious… I know, he can drive a Saab!
Publisher: A Saab? (Begins to wonder if he has picked the right man after all.)
Gardner: Yes, a Saab! I’ll put gadgets in it, of course.
Publisher: But of course.
Gardner: And I’ll set part of it in a big house in Scotland. And have a fight between Bond and the main henchman in the cargo area of a plane.
Publisher: Hmm, don’t know if those ideas would work in a Bond film.
Gardner: And I’d like to continue with the Blofeld plotline.
Publisher: Don’t do everything at once, John, save something for the next novel.
Gardner: Now, what do you think for a title?
Publisher: Let’s keep it simple- “Licence To Kill”?
Gardner: No, that’s terrible. You won’t catch me writing a James Bond book called “Licence To Kill”!
Publisher: Well, maybe “Licence Revoked”?
Gardner: That’s getting better. I’ll give it some thought.
(Reception)
Sybil: Bill Morton’s just telephoned, there are hotel inspectors in town.
Basil: Hotel inspectors, I bet it’s that St. John Smythe fellow who checked in last night...did you see him...who comes in dressed in a tuxedo...I ask you....looked like he walked in from a John Collier window...where is he now?
Sybil: Don’t be silly, Basil, he said his boss didn’t usually book him into the best hotel anywhere and it certainly looks like he hasn’t this time. But he did say there was an occasion in Miami...
(Restaurant)
Bond: Where do I sit?
Manuel: Que? Which room number?
Bond: Seven.
Manuel: (flustered) Room seven...oh oh seven... sit at table seven, please.
(Basil enters)
Basil: Anything to drink, sir?
Bond: I’ll have a vesper.
Basil: Um...and to drink?
Bond: What do you suggest I do with it?
Basil: Well, you can’t drink a scooter can you?
Bond: A vesper...not a Vespa! Never mind let me look at the wine list.
Basil: I can recommend the Phuyuck.
Bond: Phuyuck?
Basil: ‘74, sir!
Bond: No I don’t think so, a bottle of Aloxe-Corton ‘65
Basil: (Impressed) Oh, the Alex Cor-ton?
Bond: And make sure it’s not corked.
Basil: Well it won’t be corked otherwise you can’t drink it. Ah here’s the Major. Major...Mr St. John Smythe , the major is one of our long standing residents.
Major: How do you do...you look rather tanned.
Bond: I’ve just returned from India.
Major: I took a girl to India once, at The Oval, strange thing was that she kept calling the...
Basil: That’s enough of that, Major, go and sit down.
Bond: Are the vegetables in the Spanish omelette, fresh?
Basil: Oh, yes.
Bond: Including the peas?
Basil: No, they’re frozen, but they were perfectly fresh when they were frozen.
Bond: I’m going somewhere else to eat, can you suggest a French restaurant?
Basil: In France, if you catch the tide now you can swim there!
Basil just needs to give the Aston
A good thrashing
1971, aboard the SS Canberra.
Wint: Welcome aboard, Mr Kidd.
Kidd: Thank you, Mr Wint. Umm, Mr Wint, where did you get these uniforms?
Wint: Take a look in the closet, Mr Kidd. The Sommelier and the Maitre d' kindly donated them to us before they fell into a bath with an, uh, unfortunate electrical wiring fault.
Kidd: A glowing tribute, Mr Wint. May I assume that the plan is to impersonate them and gain access to Miss Case and Mr Bond's suite?
Wint: You assume correctly Mr Kidd. We shall divert their attention with our delicious descriptions of this evening's menu before despatching them once and for all.
Kidd: But Mr Wint - you know nothing about food and wine. You even think that Beaujolais is a Claret! Look, (he points to a bowl of greenery), what are you going tell them that is?
Wint: Salade Utopia?
Kidd (winces): Wrong. It's a bowl of watercress, Mr Wint. And that? (he points to another plate)
Wint: Oysters Andaluz, Mr Kidd?
Kidd (wincing again): Oysters Andaluz? They don't have oysters in Andalusia. It's a piece of chewing gum some child has dropped in an ashtray on the serving trolley, Mr Wint. And that? (he points to a third plate).
Wint: (Starting to look a bit nervous now) Shashlick?
Kidd: Shaslick? Chicken Shashlick? And I suppose you'll say it's served with sag aloo and an onion bhaji? This is the SS Canberra Mr Wint, not the Streatham Balti House! (He points to a large, conspicuous, ticking device). And just what the hell are you going to do with that?
Wint: I thought I'd cover it in shaving foam and tell them it's a Bombe Surprise.
Kidd (pausing): That might just work, Mr Wint...
Mr Kidd: Shall we dine now, Mr Wint?
Mr Wint: That sounds just right, Mr Kidd.
Mr Kidd: Once I went to a McDonald’s in Paris, Mr Wint.
Mr Wint: Tell me more, Mr Kidd.
Mr Kidd: It's the little differences. I mean, they have the same things over there that we have at home but it's just a little different.
Mr Wint: Can you give me an example, Mr Kidd?
Mr Kidd: In Paris, you can buy a beer in McDonald's. Do you know what they call a Quarter-Pounder with Cheese in Paris, Mr Wint?
Mr Wint: They don't call it a Quarter-Pounder with Cheese?
Mr Kidd: They have the metric system, Mr Wint. They wouldn't know what a Quarter-Pounder is.
Mr Wint: What do they call it, Mr Kidd?
Mr Kidd: They call it a Royale with Cheese, Mr Wint.
Mr Wint: Royale with Cheese.
Mr Kidd: That's right, Mr Wint.
Mr Wint: What do they call a Big Mac?
Mr Kidd: Big Mac's a Big Mac, but they call it Le Big Mac.
Mr Wint: Le Big Mac. What do they call a Whopper, Mr Kidd?
Mr Kidd: I don't know. I didn't go into Burger King, Mr Wint.
Mr Wint: You know what they put on French fries in Holland instead of ketchup?
Mr Kidd: What?
Mr Wint: Mayonnaise. But here we are. After you, Mr Kidd.
Mr Kidd: No, after you, Mr Wint.
I wish I had thought of that, TP
Great stuff, as always, guys
Of all the characters, in all the Bond stories, in all the world...
Minds will enjoy working together .... "
One is never too old to learn from a master, Mr Thunderpussy.
As is your brilliant Basil Fawlty homage! -{ -{
Publisher: Ah, good morning Ian, have you had breakfast?
Fleming: Yes, but I seem to have missed dessert.
Publisher: Don’t worry, I’m pouring it as we speak.
Fleming: So, you’ve had a look at my latest manuscript?
Publisher: Oh yes, and wonderful it is too. One of your best.
Fleming: Thank you. (Sips.) And thank you.
Publisher: You’ve excelled yourself this time. On top of an Alp in Switzerland, Bond and this fellow Bleuville, er, Bleuchamp…
Fleming: Blofeld.
Publisher: That’s the one! The same as you had in “Thunderball”.
Fleming: I thought I’d like to have him as a recurring villain.
Publisher: Good idea, and his SPECTRE organisation as well. The female villain, Irma Bunt, she was an excellent character!
Fleming: I plan on bringing her back, too.
Publisher: I loved the ski chase, and the bobsleigh chase, and I loved the whole College Of Arms thing.
Fleming: Well, I thought it would be nice, if ever this was made into a film, to have Sean Connery in a kilt pretending to be a Scottish baronet.
Publisher: That would be interesting, with him seducing the beautiful young ladies in the allergy clinic on top of Piz Gloria.
Fleming: Indeed.
Publisher: I’m not sure how that ties in with the other main plot strand, though- you have James genuinely falling in love with this girl Tracy, to the point of wanting to marry her.
Fleming: Yes?
Publisher: Well, surely he should be faithful to Tracy.
Fleming: Ah, but Bond is on a mission- he’s expected to sacrifice himself.
Publisher: Poor Bond. Speaking of Tracy, I thought you handled that whole relationship beautifully.
Fleming: Thank you.
Publisher: I don’t suppose you’d consider rewriting the ending…? I think it would be nice for us to see Tracy in the next story as Mrs Bond. The two of them, Mrs & Mrs Bond, their guns in hand, jet-setting around the world together versus the villains.
Fleming: (Sits staring at him in silence for a few moments before answering.) I think that I’d like another drink, please.
Publisher: Oh, of course. (Pours.)
Fleming: Are you sure you’ve grasped the point of the story here?
Publisher: Of course- James Bond battles Blofeld and sleeps with women, same as always.
Fleming: (Sighs.) I am trying to make Bond grow as a character. He has a believable adult relationship with Tracy and falls in love with her, but has to balance this against his job. I’ve given more details about his background than ever before to round out his character, and allowed him the chance of genuine happiness before this is violently taken away from him.
Publisher: Yes, but-
Fleming: Have you noticed that apart from Bond the two main characters are a man who wants to be a Count, and a woman who doesn’t want to be a Countess? That was not accidental.
Publisher: So, you are giving us a novel as opposed to a thriller then?
Fleming: That was my intention, yes.
Publisher: Well, be it on your own head Ian. I’d say the public just want Bond to shoot villains and kiss girls and that you’re being a bit too ambitious here.
Fleming: Time will tell.
Publisher: Well, we have all the time in the world...
1974, an island in Red Chinese waters
Scaramanga leads Bond to the giant laser gun: "now I am truly the man, with the golden gun!", presses button, window opens, beach is empty. "wait, didn't you park your plane...?"
Bond: "oh I chose the other side, I wanted to park it out of the sun, you know how steering wheels get in the hot sun"
Scaramanga only has one minion who has to mind the bubbling vats, and NickNack: "NickNack, oh NickNack!" "yes boss?" "NickNack, I need you to disassemble the giant laser gun and move the pieces and reassemble it on the other side of the building"
NickNack: "you mean now, boss, I was just about to start my lunchbreak!"
Scaramanga: "yes now, NickNack. You can take your lunchbreak later.
Ah, Mr Bond, so sorry about the delay. You know, I have a very comfortable waiting room with an excellent supply of magazines, I can call you once NickNack has the giant laser gun reassembled".
(two hours later, on the other side of the building)
Scaramanga "...and now , I truly am, the man, with the golden gun!", presses button, window opens, this beach is empty too.
Bond: "oh, I'm sorry, I could see the sun was moving over the building because it was lunch hour, so I took advantage of the break to move my plane so itd be in the shade for the afternoon. You were saying?"
__________________________
1997, a Hamburg hotel room.
Bond and Paris are on the sofa, Bond is trying to think of a suitable topic of conversation.
Bond: You know, that Plenty O'Toole had some big breasts!
Paris: ??? err...
Bond: Yeh, yeh, and that Dink, no wonder they used her in the opening credits and promotional artwork instead of that skinny Jill Masterton, because she too had some big, round, wobbly... (holds hands in front, gesturing and starting to drool)
Paris: ... and these are women? Because their names...
Bond: Yeh, yeh, and, and, and have you noticed that women seem to be getting bigger these days?
Paris: er, maybe...
Bond: Why is that?
Paris: Natural selection, higher nutritional standards in our affluent postwar economy, plus a society that can afford to value the symbolic reproductive significance of the breast rather than the actual reproductive significance of childbreeding hips more typically celebrated as erotic in less affluent cultures?
Bond: Could be, could be natural selection and economic trends, or maybe...?
Paris: Well a lot of women are having them "done"
Bond: Yeh! That's it! Women having them "done"!
So, er, so, uh, how do you like that?
Paris: !!! Well, actually, a lot of people ask me if I've had mine done!
Bond: (gulp!) and, er, uh, heh-heh, uh, er, ...have you?
Paris: Oh, I think you'e about to find out!
Bond: Wow! Ooh boy! Now we're talking! Lemme at'em! Lets go!
(sound of door opening, Moneypenny enters)
Bond: Oh I dont believe this!
Moneypenny: Hi James, I'm just popping in to deliver your plane tickets and fake passport, and...
oh! I didn't realise you had company.
Hello Paris... whoops!
Paris: Moneypenny? You're that chick from the sauna! The one who felt my ...
Moneypenny: I should be going!
Bond: Yes, yes you should!
(Moneypenny quickly exits)
Bond: Don't mind her, she's mentally ill. Now where were we? (begins gesturing with hands again)
Paris: I was just leaving!!!
Bond: (still with the hands but now pleading) Paris, wait...
Paris: I can't believe you sent your boss's secretary into the sauna to feel my breasts!
Bond: But, but Paris, please let me explain...
Paris: I think you're both mentally ill!!
(Paris exits)
Bond finally drops hands, slumps shoulders, defeated...
(Paris re-enters)
Paris: ...and by the way, they're real, and they are Spectacular!!!
(Paris exits, Bond broods, kicking the furniture in dejection)
(sound of approaching footsteps in hallway)
Paris's voice offstage: Hey watch where you're going!
A man's voice offstage, mit der German accent: Who do you sink you're talking to?
(Bond leans head towards corridor, listening in)
Paris's voice offstage: Wait what are you doing with that syringe??
(sound of scuffle, then sound of a woman's body collapsing in the corridor)
(Bond makes a pained grimace)
Bond: Ah, that's a shame!
(suddenly the man mit der German accent appears in the doorway and leers)
Bond: Hello..... Kaufmann!
Kaufmann: Hello..... Jimmy!
1999. (A Chinese restaurant in London.)
M: Attention, everyone! I would just like to wish Major Boothroyd all the best for a long, happy retirement.
All: Cheers! (Glasses raised.)
Q: Thank you all for being here. It’s been a wonderful career working with you all.
Bond: And it is most generous of you to pay for this meal, Q.
M: Hmph! He’s charging it. I’m sure the overburdened British taxpayer will be fascinated to know how the Special Ordnance Section disburses its funds.
Bond: Oh, cheer up M.
Moneypenny: I hope they have angel cake for dessert.
Q: Now, pay attention. Would you like to use chopsticks or standard cutlery? I shall be using standard cutlery.
Bond: You’re joking!
Tanner: The same for me.
Moneypenny: Sweet and sour chicken, please.
Q: I prefer char siu.
Bond: Char siu? You’re joking!
Moneypenny: I’d like to make Chinese food at home, but I don’t want to get dishpan hands.
Q: Oh, I make Chinese food all the time at home.
Bond: You’re joking!
Tanner: You must have some wonderful stories, Major Boothroyd.
Moneypenny: Oh, yes, tell us about your younger days!
Q: Well, I take it you remember Kerim Bey?
Bond: Of course. Wonderful man, and a great friend.
M: One of our best Heads of Station ever.
Q: He and I met many years ago. We were in a circus- he was the strongman and I was the magician. We became great friends. I loved those days in the circus with Kerim.
Bond: A circus? You’re joking!
(2010, late at night, MI6 headquarters)
Bond: Moneypenny, after all our unconsummated flirting, I think we should finally spend some time together outside the office. What do you say?
Moneypenny: Why James, I'd adore that...if only I could trust myself! Just kidding, I love the idea!
Bond: Any thoughts on what you'd like to do?
Moneypenny: Well actually, I've been dying to rent two movies that I somehow missed when they came out. One is a biopic of the jazz legend Charlie Parker, which Clint Eastwood directed. The other is that one with Liam Neeson as an ex-CIA man whose daughter is kidnapped by Eastern European gangsters. We only need watch one; which would you prefer?
(
Publisher: Ah, good morning Ian, come in.
Fleming: Banzai!
Publisher: What? Oh yes, your new manuscript. Do you like Japanese saké, Mr. Fleming, or would you prefer vodka martini? (Hands Fleming a drink.)
Fleming: Oh no, I like saké. Especially when it’s served at the correct temperature, 98.4 degrees Fahrenheit, like this is.
Publisher: I know you got some of your ideas for this on your Japanese trip a few years ago?
Fleming: That’s right. I had two great friends there, Tiger and Dikko, and I’ve based two of the book’s characters on them.
Publisher: And great characters they are, too. I liked seeing Mary Goodnight again- I don’t suppose you could give her more to do in your next book?
Fleming: Tell you what, I’ll make her the leading lady and since you like blondes I’ll change her hair colour to blonde just to please you!
Publisher: Oh, I think I’d like that- just as long as you don’t change James Bond’s hair colour to blond!
(Both laugh.)
Fleming: Oh, I would never do that- the fans would create a fuss.
Publisher: Now, I think this Garden of Death idea is fantastic. One of your best ideas ever, I’d say, and I’m sure it will look fantastic when they make a film of this.
Fleming: You don’t think it’s too unbelievable?
Publisher: No no, it’s out of left field but still possible.
Fleming: What did you think of Kissy Suzuki?
Publisher: The Ama diving girl? I loved her and the whole fishing village scenario. Just one thing, though…
Fleming: Yes?
Publisher: The scene where Bond gets disguised to look Japanese by a girl in white underwear- dying his skin, changing his hair? I’m not too comfortable with that.
Fleming: How so?
Publisher: I’m not convinced it’ll play well as time passes. Might have some problems down the line.
Fleming: I’d just leave it. I’m sure it wouldn’t make it into a film version, anyhow. They’d probably leave out the fishing village scenes, too.
Publisher: Very dramatic stuff with Blofeld and Irma Bunt in the castle at the end!
Fleming: Thank you, and I think that will look great on film.
Publisher: Yes, they’d never leave that, and the Garden of Death, out while still including the fishing village and Bond trying to become Japanese. Can you imagine Sean Connery trying to pass for being Japanese?
(Both laugh.)
Publisher: Now, the ending- you left it pretty inconclusive. I hope you’re going to continue that in your next book?
Fleming: Do you have any ideas for that yourself?
Publisher: I shall place yourself entirely in your hands, my dear Fleming-san. Rule number one is never do anything for yourself when someone else can do it for you.
M. (On phone, in bed.) That slimy bugger…. Le Chiffre… I’ll see you in the morning.
(Puts phone down.)
Man: Who was that?
M: Just work, go back to sleep.
Man: I hate how your work always comes between us. Have you ever thought of taking a normal job? Or even better retiring?
M: I know I can't have this job forever, but I'll be damned if I'm going to leave the department in worse shape than I found it.
Man: Olivia, you've had a great run. You should leave with dignity.
M: To hell with dignity. I'll leave when the job's done.
(Man puts the light on, picks up book.)
M: Now what are you doing?
Man: I’m awake now, I might as well read.
M: If you must. I’m going to try to get back to sleep.
Man: Tennyson? You’re reading poetry?
M: It’s my husband’s, better make sure you put it back at the same page.