"Christ, my ppk, I could have shot my way out of that boot" exclaimed Bond.
"Standards slipping, 007?" Remarked Leiter.
"Least I had some in the first place" quipped Bond.
"Up yours james, remember, it was the CIA that got you that ppk" sneered Leiter.
"The beretta was better" replied Bond
"Yeah for a girl like you" whined Leiter.
With that, an argument started out, each agent taking a turn to tear a strip off the other. The goons took a step back, not knowing whether to intervene, leave them to it or just shoot the two as they ranted away. Looking back to Blofeld for some form of direction, their attention dropped just low enough for a chink in their armour to be displayed.
Bond noticed in his peripheral vision the goons had turned away, a subtle nod to Leiter passed the message: get ready. Just as the goons turned back to the arguing pair of agents, Bond and Leiter broke off their fake quarrel and each took a mighty swing at their respective goons. A forceful heel of Bond's right palm meeting with the undercut of goon 1's nose meant the dark abiss for his would be assailant. Leiter chose a less subtle method, a swift kick to the nuts and a quick draw of the ppk sent a red hot piece of 7.65mm lead straight through goon 2's forehead, exiting at his crown and showering Blofeld with a crimson dust.
Above, Bond heard the unmistakable sound of an MP5's chamber snapping shut.
Taking a perfectly creased white handkerchief from his inner pocket, Blofeld calmly cleaned his face and had the final say.
"Quick moves you two, but now I really am going to insist you hand over those guns of yours."
One day, James Bond walked into his favorite deli when sitting in a booth he noticed a stunning Blonde waitress.
"This woman," he thought, "would be more at home in a bar on 5th ave ,not Krantz Finer Meats."
Just then, someone walked in. Bond's nemesis.
Waiting as he eased himself down, in the chair opposite.
"Vodka Martini", Bond said to the waitress, "shaken, not stirred."
"Without a liquor license? Sorry. You might want to try...
The Iced tea. "Iced tea?" Bond questioned.
"Iced tea's for limp wristed tailors and women in comfortable shoes! I need a proper drink like....
... an Americano. Can I at least smoke inside?
"No Mr Bond, We'd be breaking the anti smoking laws if I let you do that."
With that, bond reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a stick of TNT. Cockling back on his chair and striking a match on the fat bald guys head behind him, bond applied the flame to the fuse. "Laws are for gobshites, as is this TNT"
The waitress Licked her fingers and extinguished the Flame. "We don't allow energy drinks in here "
Bond looked up at the waitress and realized
The room had started spinning , as he hit the Floor.
"That's what you get for messing with a bald guy"
For as Bond's vision started to stabilise, and the baldy figure came into focus, he soon realised who it was. Non other than....
Blofeld, who had survived the chimney fall.
Bond shook his head and Looked again. "Suprised " Mr Bond.
"Only suprised you don't have my delicatessen in stainless steel"
"Take him to the Car " Blofeld snapped at two henchmen.
Bond was frogmarched at gunpoint to the car.
A DB5 replica with a sandpapered bonnet and Rover bumpers.
"Your standards are slipping,Blofeld " quipped Bond. Blofeld glared back.
"What would you know?!" Barked Blofeld.
"I could only get a DB4GT shell, which is JUST AS NICE as a '5' and it's got lots of boot space for a load of moody Chinese rip off omegas my watchmaking friend made! PLUS, there's enough space for a useless MI6 agent!"
One of blofeld's henchmen gave the back quarter a swift kick. As his foot embedded itself in the fibreglass, the rear bumper fell off and the boot popped open.
"Inside Mr Bond."
Bond placed a foot inside and grimaced as the boot floor quivered under his weight.
As the boot lid flopped shut on its gaffa tape hinges, Bond couldn't help but think of the flintstones after spying that the rest of the car didn't actually have any floor it in...
Across the street Leiter watched, and followed.
Blofelds car pulled up at an old storage warehouse
Leiter pulled over, and quitely moved closer to the warehouse.
Leiter opened a secret door to find a research laboratory
Leiter's face fell when he saw what was inside...
Blackness. Total impenetrable darkness. Leiter spun around as he heard the sound of shuffling feet behind him.
"I appreciate your enthusiasm Mr Leiter, but you could have at least waited for us to go inside before attempting to follow us in." Smirked blofeld.
With that a small creaking sound grew into a full blown cracking as the boot floor in blofeld's replica db5 finally gave way. Bond tumbled out onto the Tarmac, looked up and saw a rather embarrassed looking Leiter being held at gunpoint by the goons.
"Oh hello Felix! I could have done with being a.... little Leiter myself back there."
Blofeld slowly closed his eyes and muttered under his breath "always a stupid pun, every time."
"My name never fails to amuse you, does it?" Leiter
"Alright, everyone inside now." snapped Blofeld.
two shaven headed goons ,approached ,with their cold almost robotic expression
held out their hands to demand the surrender of the two agents weapons,
"Christ, my ppk, I could have shot my way out of that boot" exclaimed Bond.
"Standards slipping, 007?" Remarked Leiter.
"Least I had some in the first place" quipped Bond.
"Up yours james, remember, it was the CIA that got you that ppk" sneered Leiter.
"The beretta was better" replied Bond
"Yeah for a girl like you" whined Leiter.
With that, an argument started out, each agent taking a turn to tear a strip off the other. The goons took a step back, not knowing whether to intervene, leave them to it or just shoot the two as they ranted away. Looking back to Blofeld for some form of direction, their attention dropped just low enough for a chink in their armour to be displayed.
Bond noticed in his peripheral vision the goons had turned away, a subtle nod to Leiter passed the message: get ready. Just as the goons turned back to the arguing pair of agents, Bond and Leiter broke off their fake quarrel and each took a mighty swing at their respective goons. A forceful heel of Bond's right palm meeting with the undercut of goon 1's nose meant the dark abiss for his would be assailant. Leiter chose a less subtle method, a swift kick to the nuts and a quick draw of the ppk sent a red hot piece of 7.65mm lead straight through goon 2's forehead, exiting at his crown and showering Blofeld with a crimson dust.
Above, Bond heard the unmistakable sound of an MP5's chamber snapping shut.
Taking a perfectly creased white handkerchief from his inner pocket, Blofeld calmly cleaned his face and had the final say.
"Quick moves you two, but now I really am going to insist you hand over those guns of yours."
"I've been informed that there ARE a couple of QAnon supporters who are fairly regular posters in AJB."
Bond and Leiter duly handed over their weapons,the smell of cordite
hung in the air like a $10 whores perfume .Bond ,looking bemused
wondered to himself why the two agents had not been killed outright?
what evil plan had this madman in store for them?
"I wish to make a proposition to both of you," said Blofeld. "Strictly business. A barter between us - your lives for services rendered."
The scent smoke and sweat of a casino are nauseating at three in the morning. Then the soul-erosion produced by high gambling - a compost of greed and fear and nervous tension - becomes unbearable and the senses awake and revolt from it.
One day, James Bond walked into his favorite deli when sitting in a booth he noticed a stunning Blonde waitress.
"This woman," he thought, "would be more at home in a bar on 5th ave ,not Krantz Finer Meats."
Just then, someone walked in. Bond's nemesis.
Waiting as he eased himself down, in the chair opposite.
"Vodka Martini", Bond said to the waitress, "shaken, not stirred."
"Without a liquor license? Sorry. You might want to try...
The Iced tea. "Iced tea?" Bond questioned.
"Iced tea's for limp wristed tailors and women in comfortable shoes! I need a proper drink like....
... an Americano. Can I at least smoke inside?
"No Mr Bond, We'd be breaking the anti smoking laws if I let you do that."
With that, bond reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a stick of TNT. Cockling back on his chair and striking a match on the fat bald guys head behind him, bond applied the flame to the fuse. "Laws are for gobshites, as is this TNT"
The waitress Licked her fingers and extinguished the Flame. "We don't allow energy drinks in here "
Bond looked up at the waitress and realized
The room had started spinning , as he hit the Floor.
"That's what you get for messing with a bald guy"
For as Bond's vision started to stabilise, and the baldy figure came into focus, he soon realised who it was. Non other than....
Blofeld, who had survived the chimney fall.
Bond shook his head and Looked again. "Suprised " Mr Bond.
"Only suprised you don't have my delicatessen in stainless steel"
"Take him to the Car " Blofeld snapped at two henchmen.
Bond was frogmarched at gunpoint to the car.
A DB5 replica with a sandpapered bonnet and Rover bumpers.
"Your standards are slipping,Blofeld " quipped Bond. Blofeld glared back.
"What would you know?!" Barked Blofeld.
"I could only get a DB4GT shell, which is JUST AS NICE as a '5' and it's got lots of boot space for a load of moody Chinese rip off omegas my watchmaking friend made! PLUS, there's enough space for a useless MI6 agent!"
One of blofeld's henchmen gave the back quarter a swift kick. As his foot embedded itself in the fibreglass, the rear bumper fell off and the boot popped open.
"Inside Mr Bond."
Bond placed a foot inside and grimaced as the boot floor quivered under his weight.
As the boot lid flopped shut on its gaffa tape hinges, Bond couldn't help but think of the flintstones after spying that the rest of the car didn't actually have any floor it in...
Across the street Leiter watched, and followed.
Blofelds car pulled up at an old storage warehouse
Leiter pulled over, and quitely moved closer to the warehouse.
Leiter opened a secret door to find a research laboratory
Leiter's face fell when he saw what was inside...
Blackness. Total impenetrable darkness. Leiter spun around as he heard the sound of shuffling feet behind him.
"I appreciate your enthusiasm Mr Leiter, but you could have at least waited for us to go inside before attempting to follow us in." Smirked blofeld.
With that a small creaking sound grew into a full blown cracking as the boot floor in blofeld's replica db5 finally gave way. Bond tumbled out onto the Tarmac, looked up and saw a rather embarrassed looking Leiter being held at gunpoint by the goons.
"Oh hello Felix! I could have done with being a.... little Leiter myself back there."
Blofeld slowly closed his eyes and muttered under his breath "always a stupid pun, every time."
"My name never fails to amuse you, does it?" Leiter
"Alright, everyone inside now." snapped Blofeld.
two shaven headed goons ,approached ,with their cold almost robotic expression
held out their hands to demand the surrender of the two agents weapons,
"Christ, my ppk, I could have shot my way out of that boot" exclaimed Bond.
"Standards slipping, 007?" Remarked Leiter.
"Least I had some in the first place" quipped Bond.
"Up yours james, remember, it was the CIA that got you that ppk" sneered Leiter.
"The beretta was better" replied Bond
"Yeah for a girl like you" whined Leiter.
With that, an argument started out, each agent taking a turn to tear a strip off the other. The goons took a step back, not knowing whether to intervene, leave them to it or just shoot the two as they ranted away. Looking back to Blofeld for some form of direction, their attention dropped just low enough for a chink in their armour to be displayed.
Bond noticed in his peripheral vision the goons had turned away, a subtle nod to Leiter passed the message: get ready. Just as the goons turned back to the arguing pair of agents, Bond and Leiter broke off their fake quarrel and each took a mighty swing at their respective goons. A forceful heel of Bond's right palm meeting with the undercut of goon 1's nose meant the dark abiss for his would be assailant. Leiter chose a less subtle method, a swift kick to the nuts and a quick draw of the ppk sent a red hot piece of 7.65mm lead straight through goon 2's forehead, exiting at his crown and showering Blofeld with a crimson dust.
Above, Bond heard the unmistakable sound of an MP5's chamber snapping shut.
Taking a perfectly creased white handkerchief from his inner pocket, Blofeld calmly cleaned his face and had the final say.
"Quick moves you two, but now I really am going to insist you hand over those guns of yours."
Bond and Leiter obediently obliged
Bond and Leiter duly handed over their weapons,the smell of cordite
hung in the air like a $10 whores perfume .Bond ,looking bemused
wondered to himself why the two agents had not been killed outright?
what evil plan had this madman in store for them?
"I wish to make a proposition to both of you," said Blofeld. "Strictly business. A barter between us - your lives for services rendered."
"And how many millions do you want for your services this time Blofeld?" retorted Bond with a sneer.
"I've been informed that there ARE a couple of QAnon supporters who are fairly regular posters in AJB."
"Put in froth your beer globes? Famished the dearlings?!" Blofeld quizzed.
Looking round for some visual clues from the goons, Blofeld couldn't help but get infuriated by the sight of his henchmen in a full on laugh-stifling effort akin to that of the roman centurions in The Life of Bwian whenever a certain Mr Dickus was mentioned.
Comments
held out their hands to demand the surrender of the two agents weapons,
"Standards slipping, 007?" Remarked Leiter.
"Least I had some in the first place" quipped Bond.
"Up yours james, remember, it was the CIA that got you that ppk" sneered Leiter.
"The beretta was better" replied Bond
"Yeah for a girl like you" whined Leiter.
With that, an argument started out, each agent taking a turn to tear a strip off the other. The goons took a step back, not knowing whether to intervene, leave them to it or just shoot the two as they ranted away. Looking back to Blofeld for some form of direction, their attention dropped just low enough for a chink in their armour to be displayed.
Bond noticed in his peripheral vision the goons had turned away, a subtle nod to Leiter passed the message: get ready. Just as the goons turned back to the arguing pair of agents, Bond and Leiter broke off their fake quarrel and each took a mighty swing at their respective goons. A forceful heel of Bond's right palm meeting with the undercut of goon 1's nose meant the dark abiss for his would be assailant. Leiter chose a less subtle method, a swift kick to the nuts and a quick draw of the ppk sent a red hot piece of 7.65mm lead straight through goon 2's forehead, exiting at his crown and showering Blofeld with a crimson dust.
Above, Bond heard the unmistakable sound of an MP5's chamber snapping shut.
Taking a perfectly creased white handkerchief from his inner pocket, Blofeld calmly cleaned his face and had the final say.
"Quick moves you two, but now I really am going to insist you hand over those guns of yours."
Vive le droit à la libre expression! Je suis Charlie!
www.helpforheroes.org.uk
www.cancerresearchuk.org
"This woman," he thought, "would be more at home in a bar on 5th ave ,not Krantz Finer Meats."
Just then, someone walked in. Bond's nemesis.
Waiting as he eased himself down, in the chair opposite.
"Vodka Martini", Bond said to the waitress, "shaken, not stirred."
"Without a liquor license? Sorry. You might want to try...
The Iced tea. "Iced tea?" Bond questioned.
"Iced tea's for limp wristed tailors and women in comfortable shoes! I need a proper drink like....
... an Americano. Can I at least smoke inside?
"No Mr Bond, We'd be breaking the anti smoking laws if I let you do that."
With that, bond reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a stick of TNT. Cockling back on his chair and striking a match on the fat bald guys head behind him, bond applied the flame to the fuse. "Laws are for gobshites, as is this TNT"
The waitress Licked her fingers and extinguished the Flame. "We don't allow energy drinks in here "
Bond looked up at the waitress and realized
The room had started spinning , as he hit the Floor.
"That's what you get for messing with a bald guy"
For as Bond's vision started to stabilise, and the baldy figure came into focus, he soon realised who it was. Non other than....
Blofeld, who had survived the chimney fall.
Bond shook his head and Looked again. "Suprised " Mr Bond.
"Only suprised you don't have my delicatessen in stainless steel"
"Take him to the Car " Blofeld snapped at two henchmen.
Bond was frogmarched at gunpoint to the car.
A DB5 replica with a sandpapered bonnet and Rover bumpers.
"Your standards are slipping,Blofeld " quipped Bond. Blofeld glared back.
"What would you know?!" Barked Blofeld.
"I could only get a DB4GT shell, which is JUST AS NICE as a '5' and it's got lots of boot space for a load of moody Chinese rip off omegas my watchmaking friend made! PLUS, there's enough space for a useless MI6 agent!"
One of blofeld's henchmen gave the back quarter a swift kick. As his foot embedded itself in the fibreglass, the rear bumper fell off and the boot popped open.
"Inside Mr Bond."
Bond placed a foot inside and grimaced as the boot floor quivered under his weight.
As the boot lid flopped shut on its gaffa tape hinges, Bond couldn't help but think of the flintstones after spying that the rest of the car didn't actually have any floor it in...
Across the street Leiter watched, and followed.
Blofelds car pulled up at an old storage warehouse
Leiter pulled over, and quitely moved closer to the warehouse.
Leiter opened a secret door to find a research laboratory
Leiter's face fell when he saw what was inside...
Blackness. Total impenetrable darkness. Leiter spun around as he heard the sound of shuffling feet behind him.
"I appreciate your enthusiasm Mr Leiter, but you could have at least waited for us to go inside before attempting to follow us in." Smirked blofeld.
With that a small creaking sound grew into a full blown cracking as the boot floor in blofeld's replica db5 finally gave way. Bond tumbled out onto the Tarmac, looked up and saw a rather embarrassed looking Leiter being held at gunpoint by the goons.
"Oh hello Felix! I could have done with being a.... little Leiter myself back there."
Blofeld slowly closed his eyes and muttered under his breath "always a stupid pun, every time."
"My name never fails to amuse you, does it?" Leiter
"Alright, everyone inside now." snapped Blofeld.
two shaven headed goons ,approached ,with their cold almost robotic expression
held out their hands to demand the surrender of the two agents weapons,
"Christ, my ppk, I could have shot my way out of that boot" exclaimed Bond.
"Standards slipping, 007?" Remarked Leiter.
"Least I had some in the first place" quipped Bond.
"Up yours james, remember, it was the CIA that got you that ppk" sneered Leiter.
"The beretta was better" replied Bond
"Yeah for a girl like you" whined Leiter.
With that, an argument started out, each agent taking a turn to tear a strip off the other. The goons took a step back, not knowing whether to intervene, leave them to it or just shoot the two as they ranted away. Looking back to Blofeld for some form of direction, their attention dropped just low enough for a chink in their armour to be displayed.
Bond noticed in his peripheral vision the goons had turned away, a subtle nod to Leiter passed the message: get ready. Just as the goons turned back to the arguing pair of agents, Bond and Leiter broke off their fake quarrel and each took a mighty swing at their respective goons. A forceful heel of Bond's right palm meeting with the undercut of goon 1's nose meant the dark abiss for his would be assailant. Leiter chose a less subtle method, a swift kick to the nuts and a quick draw of the ppk sent a red hot piece of 7.65mm lead straight through goon 2's forehead, exiting at his crown and showering Blofeld with a crimson dust.
Above, Bond heard the unmistakable sound of an MP5's chamber snapping shut.
Taking a perfectly creased white handkerchief from his inner pocket, Blofeld calmly cleaned his face and had the final say.
"Quick moves you two, but now I really am going to insist you hand over those guns of yours."
" I don't listen to hip hop!"
hung in the air like a $10 whores perfume .Bond ,looking bemused
wondered to himself why the two agents had not been killed outright?
what evil plan had this madman in store for them?
" I don't listen to hip hop!"
"This woman," he thought, "would be more at home in a bar on 5th ave ,not Krantz Finer Meats."
Just then, someone walked in. Bond's nemesis.
Waiting as he eased himself down, in the chair opposite.
"Vodka Martini", Bond said to the waitress, "shaken, not stirred."
"Without a liquor license? Sorry. You might want to try...
The Iced tea. "Iced tea?" Bond questioned.
"Iced tea's for limp wristed tailors and women in comfortable shoes! I need a proper drink like....
... an Americano. Can I at least smoke inside?
"No Mr Bond, We'd be breaking the anti smoking laws if I let you do that."
With that, bond reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a stick of TNT. Cockling back on his chair and striking a match on the fat bald guys head behind him, bond applied the flame to the fuse. "Laws are for gobshites, as is this TNT"
The waitress Licked her fingers and extinguished the Flame. "We don't allow energy drinks in here "
Bond looked up at the waitress and realized
The room had started spinning , as he hit the Floor.
"That's what you get for messing with a bald guy"
For as Bond's vision started to stabilise, and the baldy figure came into focus, he soon realised who it was. Non other than....
Blofeld, who had survived the chimney fall.
Bond shook his head and Looked again. "Suprised " Mr Bond.
"Only suprised you don't have my delicatessen in stainless steel"
"Take him to the Car " Blofeld snapped at two henchmen.
Bond was frogmarched at gunpoint to the car.
A DB5 replica with a sandpapered bonnet and Rover bumpers.
"Your standards are slipping,Blofeld " quipped Bond. Blofeld glared back.
"What would you know?!" Barked Blofeld.
"I could only get a DB4GT shell, which is JUST AS NICE as a '5' and it's got lots of boot space for a load of moody Chinese rip off omegas my watchmaking friend made! PLUS, there's enough space for a useless MI6 agent!"
One of blofeld's henchmen gave the back quarter a swift kick. As his foot embedded itself in the fibreglass, the rear bumper fell off and the boot popped open.
"Inside Mr Bond."
Bond placed a foot inside and grimaced as the boot floor quivered under his weight.
As the boot lid flopped shut on its gaffa tape hinges, Bond couldn't help but think of the flintstones after spying that the rest of the car didn't actually have any floor it in...
Across the street Leiter watched, and followed.
Blofelds car pulled up at an old storage warehouse
Leiter pulled over, and quitely moved closer to the warehouse.
Leiter opened a secret door to find a research laboratory
Leiter's face fell when he saw what was inside...
Blackness. Total impenetrable darkness. Leiter spun around as he heard the sound of shuffling feet behind him.
"I appreciate your enthusiasm Mr Leiter, but you could have at least waited for us to go inside before attempting to follow us in." Smirked blofeld.
With that a small creaking sound grew into a full blown cracking as the boot floor in blofeld's replica db5 finally gave way. Bond tumbled out onto the Tarmac, looked up and saw a rather embarrassed looking Leiter being held at gunpoint by the goons.
"Oh hello Felix! I could have done with being a.... little Leiter myself back there."
Blofeld slowly closed his eyes and muttered under his breath "always a stupid pun, every time."
"My name never fails to amuse you, does it?" Leiter
"Alright, everyone inside now." snapped Blofeld.
two shaven headed goons ,approached ,with their cold almost robotic expression
held out their hands to demand the surrender of the two agents weapons,
"Christ, my ppk, I could have shot my way out of that boot" exclaimed Bond.
"Standards slipping, 007?" Remarked Leiter.
"Least I had some in the first place" quipped Bond.
"Up yours james, remember, it was the CIA that got you that ppk" sneered Leiter.
"The beretta was better" replied Bond
"Yeah for a girl like you" whined Leiter.
With that, an argument started out, each agent taking a turn to tear a strip off the other. The goons took a step back, not knowing whether to intervene, leave them to it or just shoot the two as they ranted away. Looking back to Blofeld for some form of direction, their attention dropped just low enough for a chink in their armour to be displayed.
Bond noticed in his peripheral vision the goons had turned away, a subtle nod to Leiter passed the message: get ready. Just as the goons turned back to the arguing pair of agents, Bond and Leiter broke off their fake quarrel and each took a mighty swing at their respective goons. A forceful heel of Bond's right palm meeting with the undercut of goon 1's nose meant the dark abiss for his would be assailant. Leiter chose a less subtle method, a swift kick to the nuts and a quick draw of the ppk sent a red hot piece of 7.65mm lead straight through goon 2's forehead, exiting at his crown and showering Blofeld with a crimson dust.
Above, Bond heard the unmistakable sound of an MP5's chamber snapping shut.
Taking a perfectly creased white handkerchief from his inner pocket, Blofeld calmly cleaned his face and had the final say.
"Quick moves you two, but now I really am going to insist you hand over those guns of yours."
Bond and Leiter obediently obliged
Bond and Leiter duly handed over their weapons,the smell of cordite
hung in the air like a $10 whores perfume .Bond ,looking bemused
wondered to himself why the two agents had not been killed outright?
what evil plan had this madman in store for them?
"I wish to make a proposition to both of you," said Blofeld. "Strictly business. A barter between us - your lives for services rendered."
"And how many millions do you want for your services this time Blofeld?" retorted Bond with a sneer.
"Or buttplugs? Is it buttplugs?!"
Vive le droit à la libre expression! Je suis Charlie!
www.helpforheroes.org.uk
www.cancerresearchuk.org
"What did you say ,demanded Blofeld,
" I don't listen to hip hop!"
Looking round for some visual clues from the goons, Blofeld couldn't help but get infuriated by the sight of his henchmen in a full on laugh-stifling effort akin to that of the roman centurions in The Life of Bwian whenever a certain Mr Dickus was mentioned.
Vive le droit à la libre expression! Je suis Charlie!
www.helpforheroes.org.uk
www.cancerresearchuk.org
" now I will be able to hear !" he said, and Bond
couldn't believe who he was now looking at.
" I don't listen to hip hop!"
ende.
Vive le droit à la libre expression! Je suis Charlie!
www.helpforheroes.org.uk
www.cancerresearchuk.org
now Bond
Bond walked into La Rive Gauche and took his seat in a corner booth.
Vive le droit à la libre expression! Je suis Charlie!
www.helpforheroes.org.uk
www.cancerresearchuk.org