(Sir James and Lord Felix go into a second tavern.)
Innkeeper: And what would thee like to drink, gentlemen?
Sir James: I will have a mead, let it shaken be and not stirred.
Lord Felix: Where ist thine sense of adventure, Sir James? Innkeeper, we shalt have two Bloody Marys. (Ye bar goes silent. Ye band stops playing "Good Morning London Town". A darts player freezes mid-throw. In the distance, a wolf howls. Heads slowly turn to stare at Sir James and Lord Felix.)
Varlet: Bloody Marys, eh? (He throws a dagger at Lord Felix, narrowly missing, then takes to his heels.)
Lord Felix: After him! Run, James, run! (Sir James chases ye varlet through ye streets. They battle with swords, then the varlet runs off. Sir James pulls out his crossbow and shoots several times, narrowly missing. The varlet trips and falls, his sword lying just outside his arms reach. Sir James walks slowly up to him, crossbow in hand.)
Sir James: I know what thou art thinking: "Did he fire six arrows or only five?" Well to tell thee the truth, in all this excitement, I hast kind of lost track myself. But being this is a 44 crossbow, the most powerful crossbow in the world, and would blow your head clean off, thou hast got to ask thineself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do thee, varlet? (The varlet gives up trying to retrieve his sword. Sir James picks it up and starts to walk away, as Lord Felix and ye constables arrive.)
Varlet: Hey! (Sir James turns around.) I gots to know... (Sir James recocks and aims his crossbow and pulls ye trigger, but it just clicks and he grins, laughs, and walks away.)
Varlet: Son of a bitch…
(Ye cave of ye Young Wizard. Enter Sir James.)
Sir James: Greetings, Young Wizard.
Young Wizard: Most pleased I am to see thee, Naught Naught Seven. Thine attention I crave- behold this enchanted blond wig! If thou do wear it, thou can tell ye most outrageous lies and everyone shalt believe thee.
Sir James: And what ist it called?
Young Wizard: We call it ye “Donald”.
Sir James: Not ye "Boris", then?
Young Wizard: Nay, we did try that but no-one believed ye lies. Now, what can I do for thee, Naught Naught Seven?
Sir James: I have been charged by Sir Gareth to look into ye drink known as ye “Bloody Mary”.
Young Wizard: Ah, ‘tis one of a wide range of drinks named after Royals.
Sir James: Such as?
Young Wizard: I prithee, look here. (He mixes some fluids together.) This be called ye “Phizzing Philip”. Thou art not recommended to drive thine carriage after one of these. Or speak with foreigners.
"The Charles". It has been stored and aged for decades, ready for the right time. It may have been ageing for too long and gotten a bitter after taste.
Sir James: Are there any more?
Young Wizard: "The Charles". It has been stored and aged for decades, ready for the right time. It may have been ageing for too long and gotten a bitter after taste.
Sir James: I see. What can thee tell me about ye Bloody Mary?
Young Wizard: Because of its association with Mary, Queen Of Scots, it hath become a symbol for rebellious Scots. Their leader, Red Nicola, ist considering using it as a flag.
Sir James: Then 'tis most important we stamp it out! 'Twould never do for ye Scots to leave ye United Kingdom only to join ye European Union and prosper.
There's no reason to put it in, because no-one gets that joke outside Norway. Martha is the oldest child of the Norwegian king and queen, but because the law of succession that made royal children of both genders eligble to inherit the crown wasn't changed until after she was born. As a result it's her younger brother Håkon who'll be the next monarch. I'm all for women's rights, but we dodged the bullet there. She's trained in massaging horses, but she never settled in such a normal job. She started claiming she can see angels and she is psychic who can see people's auras. She started a "school" to train "students" in these "skills". The "school" is closed, but now she's in a relationship with an American "shaman" who claims a dog told him of a new "philosophy" that among other things say cancer happens because people really wanto die and if they really wan to they can "will" their cancer away. He also says women who have to many sex partners get "imprints" on their vaginas and he can clense this. Both the princess and her shaman complain about the "lying" press that's "bullying" them. I's like to thank the misogynist lawmakers who made sure she'll never be our queen.
Sir James: Are there any more?
Young Wizard: "The Charles". It has been stored and aged for decades, ready for the right time. It may have been ageing for too long and gotten a bitter after taste.
Sir James: I see.
Young Wizard: There ist also ye "Martha" One drink will make you believe you're seeing angels, two will convince you that you can cure cancer with your will. If you're Norwegian, that is.
Sir James: But of course. What can thee tell me about ye Bloody Mary?
Young Wizard: Because of its association with Mary, Queen Of Scots, it hath become a symbol for rebellious Scots. Their leader, Red Nicola, ist considering using it as a flag.
Sir James: Then 'tis most important we stamp it out! 'Twould never do for ye Scots to leave ye United Kingdom only to join ye European Union and prosper.
In the next scene, Sir James goes to visit the distillery where the vodka is made. It is here that he will meet the leading lady who will join him for the rest of this adventure and I'd like to ask for help with her name. Now, in these enlightened times, we shouldn't use such names as
(A vodka distillery. Sir James sits with ye director.)
Sir James: 'Tis good of thee to see me at such short notice, director. I understand thou art here from ye land of ye Tsars?
Director: Da, and I understand thou art a representative of Her Majesty's Government. Thou art not, perchance, a politician?
Sir James: Why, nay, I work for, er, ye Foreign Office. A mere Civil Servant am I.
Director: Glad am I to hear this. Last week we did have a delegation of Members of Parliament. Most disruptive.
Sir James: Oh? And what did they seek?
Director: 'Tis most curious, I do believe they were after broth, or mayhap consommé.
Sir James: Broth? Consommé?
Director: Aye, I didst hear them talk- forgive me, mine English ist not good- I didst hear them say that they were attempting to organise some pea soup.
Sir James: (Confused.) Pea soup?
Director: 'Tis so. Apparently the week before they had been attempting to organise a pea soup in a brewery and had failed in this endeavour...
Sir James: (Light dawning.) No surprise there.
Director: ...so they were attempting to do the same thing in mine distillery. Alas, they failed there also.
Sir James: Knock me down with a feather.
Director: Would thee like a tour of this establishment?
Sir James: Very much so.
Director: Then seek ye Apothecary Knightley.
(In ye distillery, Sir James approaches a most comely wench.)
Sur James: Ahem.
Apothecary Knightley: Can I help thee?
Sir James: Aye, I am he who ist called Bond, James Bond. I seek Apothecary Knightley.
Apothecary Knightley: Thou hast found her.
Sir James: An individual who identifies as being of ye feminine gender.
Apothecary Knightley: Thine command of current pointless idiom does ye credit, Yeoman Bond.
Sir James: Sir James... to mine friends.
Apothecary Knightley: Twys Knightley.
Sir James: Twys Knightley?
Twys: Aye, I am ye middle of three children. Well, Sir James I guess we'd better get started. You don't want to lose as much time as Eon have wasted this last decade, do you?
(Deep in ye distillery.)
Twys: In this barrel we have ye vodka which ist sent to ye Blades club, containing a pinch of pepper- but thou would know about that...?
Sir James: Aye, 'twas I who introduced them to the habit, more years ago than I could believably mention. And this barrel?
Twys: This barrel hast ye vodka flavoured with smalahove- 'tis a special consignment for Norway.
Sir James: Inconceivable. And this?
Twys: This barrel contains a certain proportion of tomato juice along with ye vodka, to create a "Bloody Mary".
Sir James: So! Ist this sent to Scotland?
Twys: Nay, our sales to Scotland are very low- they have their own drink there called "whisky".
Sir James: Ah yes, I believe I have heard of this. So, where dost thee send thine barrels of Bloody Mary?
Twys: I am sorry, Sir James, but that information ist on a need to know basis. Section 26, paragraph 5. Sure thee understand.
Sir James: But of course. Enough have I seen, to London I must make haste. Wouldst thee care to accompany me, and mayhap have dinner en route?
Twys: Why, Sir James,‘tis so sudden. And thou art unknown to me, a strange gentleman.
Sir James: Ten minutes, then?
Twys: Make it five.
(Outside ye distillery.)
Twys: What a beautiful carriage thou doth have.
Sir James: Aye, make them like this they do not any more. I prithee, please enter. (They set off. Unbeknownest to them, another carriage doth follow at a discreet distance.)
Twys: Mmm, how comfortable thine carriage ist. What does this button do?
Sir James: Don’t touch that!!!
Twys: Hmm?
Sir James: Er, I have had a few optional extras installed.
Twys: Watch out for that man with green trainers! (Thump.)
Sir James: What?
Twys: Never mind. (Ye following carriage gets closer.)
Twys: Sir James, that carriage-
Sir James: - hath been following us for the last mile.
Chase scene ensures.... As you all know (see earlier), I'd prefer someone else writing it!
As there's not much happening on AJB at the moment, I haven't been popping in as often. So much
has passed me by, so apologies if any of these ideas have already been suggested etc.
Could the distillery be a sort of Willy Wonka's Whisky Factory ?
then a possible chase along a river of whiskey ( and other drinks )
passing through a bottling area, where a cork could be stuck somewhere embarrassing ?
" Oh ! Skewered, One sympathises "
With Sir James taking control of a visitors boat filled with famous whisky lovers i.e.
Sir Oliver Reed, Sir Richard Burton, Sir Richard Harris, Sir Welshboy78 ( or any other
members who like the filthy stuff ) they cold help Sir James when his boat springs a leak
by drinking the incoming liquid ?
Possible deaths of villains, One crushed by Ice, with a possible line
" Well he did want it on the rocks ".... " Plenty of ice, if you can spare it " ...
" The coldest weapon of all "
Could add the old joke about ....
Villain: " We drowned one of your colleagues a Sir Dean Martin in a whisky vat once,
it took a long time for him to die.
Sir James : Pray tell why ?
Villain : He got out four times to use the privy !
"I've been informed that there ARE a couple of QAnon supporters who are fairly regular posters in AJB."
An Alchemist makes a clockwork robot, who "absolutely will not stop ", could be a machine to
help stack Whisky barrels or some such. Sir James could use some ice to freeze him, and as in
the film, it breaks apart ?
"I've been informed that there ARE a couple of QAnon supporters who are fairly regular posters in AJB."
(Sir James and Twys arrive at their destination, a castle-like building with a glass roof.)
Sir James: ‘Tis not quite what I was expecting...
Twys: Times change, Sir James. Ah, here comes ye owner now. (A man wearing a top hat and a brightly coloured coat approaches. He performs a quick somersault before introducing himself, doffing his hat and bowing deeply.)
Willy: Greetings, honoured guests, thou may know me as “Willy”. To what do I owe this pleasure?
Twys: I am Dr Knightley from ye vodka distillery, and this is he who called Bond, James Bond. We would very much appreciate a tour of thine wonderful establishment.
Willy: ‘Tis no problem, but I prithee to excuse mine inability to conduct thee on such a tour. And would ask thee to make thine own way.
Twys: ‘Tis a pity we shall be deprived of thine company.
Willy: Aye, for I must await here a visitor I was expecting… Thou did not perchance meet a small boy called Charlie on thine way?
Sir James: Why, nay.
Willy: Oh well. Please, enter by yon door there.
(Sir James and Twys enter.)
Sir James: Most strange!
Twys: Aye, for ‘tis not like mine distillery at all. See, ye fields of hops growing there. And that golden brown river- if I be not mistaken, it doth smell like-
Sir James: Whisky! (Two figures emerge form ye shadows and begin to stalk Sir James and Twys.)
Twys: Aye, a river of whisky- and look, a boat!
Sir James: Let us have a closer inspection… (They board ye boat and begin to sail down ye river of tasty alcohol. Their followers sneak along ye bank.)
Twys: Look there, Sir James!
Sir James: Are those children harvesting ye crops? Child labour!
Twys: Nay, not children- those are little purple men. Hear them singing “Doompa Woompa” or such as they work.
Sir James: Lo, another boat ahead. (They approach ye second boat.)
Sir James: Ahoy there! (A tousled head appears sleepily from behind ye bulwarks.)
Man: Avast behind!
Twys: No need to get personal, good sir, we have only just met. (A few other heads appear on ye second boat, gazing blearily at Sir James and Twys.)
Sir James: Mere tourists are we, sightseeing round this wonderful place. Do thee work here?
Man: Work? (He and his companions laugh.) Why, we pay Willy just to allow us here! Boating on a river made of whisky is ye stuff dreams are made of! Allow me to introduce ourselves- we are from ye British actors’ drinking club: I am Burton, this here is O’Toole, that is Harris, and that is Reed.
Twys: And ye one still sleeping?
Burton: Oh, I forget his name- we just call him Welshboy. And you, good sir?
Sir James: I am he who is called Bond, James Bond. No stranger to strong beverages am I.
Harris: Oh, thine reputation precedes thee! “Shaken, not stirred”, eh? (They laugh.)
O’Toole: Compared with us, dear boy, thou art but an amateur drinker.
Sir James: No doubt. My companion and I- (Suddenly they art assailed by arrows from ye shore of ye river.)
Burton: To our boat, apace! Reed, start ye motor! (Sir James and Twys leap onto ye other boat as arrows continue to fly towards them.)
Harris: Down there, quickly- to ye bottling area! (Ye two varlets race down ye banks following the boat, under a sign reading “Bottling Area- Please Take Care.”)
Sir James: So, there art five in thine party, eh?
Reed: Once we were six, but one of our colleagues- from ye colonies, Lord Dean Martin, fell into ye river. It took a long time for him to die.
Twys: Pray tell why?
Reed: He got out four times to use the privy! (In ye bottling area, ye little purple men fire corks from catapults into the tops of bottles. Sir James and company duck down, but one of ye varlets slips and is struck by one of ye corks from behind in a most uncomfortable area.)
Sir James: Oh! Skewered. One sympathises. (As ye boat leaves ye bottling area, ye remaining varlet continues to give chase.)
Sir James: Where art we heading now?
Burton: ‘Tis ye icing area- see, ahead! (Ye walls grow white with ice. Ye pursuing varlet slips, and ist crushed between two giant ice cubes.)
Sir James: On the rocks… (Ye boat glides smoothly to a berth.)
Burton: Most exciting this has been.
Sir James: We thank’ee for thine help.
Harris: No problem, this hast been fun.
Twys: Methinks we should get out of here, Sir James.
Sir James: Aye, let us go. (Ye little purple men watch them depart, then get back to their work.)
(Sir James and Twys arrive at their destination, a castle-like building with a glass roof.)
Sir James: ‘Tis not quite what I was expecting...
Twys: Times change, Sir James. Ah, here comes ye owner now.
(A man wearing a top hat and a brightly coloured coat approaches. He performs a quick somersault before introducing himself, doffing his hat and bowing deeply.)
Sir James : A colourful ensemble good sir
Willy : Could be worse, I could be wearing green trainers
( Willy replaces his top hat )
Willy: Greetings, honoured guests, thou may know me as “Willy”. To what do I owe this pleasure?
Twys: I am Dr Knightley from ye vodka distillery, and this is he who called Bond, James Bond. We would very much appreciate a tour of thine wonderful establishment.
Willy: ‘Tis no problem, but I prithee to excuse mine inability to conduct thee on such a tour. And would ask thee to make thine own way.
Twys: ‘Tis a pity we shall be deprived of thine company.
Willy: Aye, for I must await here a visitor I was expecting… Charlie
Twys : You were expecting some " Nose Candy " ?
Willy : Nay, a young Visitor who hath won a competition, Charlie !
( Willy, looks down to the flowers and chocolates and hides them behind his back ... a small bottle of blue
pills falls to the ground which he quickly picks up ... )
Willy : Just my rheumatism medicine, it assists with my .... er? ....... stiffness ...
Sir James: Why, nay. We hath seen no one
Willy: Oh well. Please, enter by yon door there. I must away, to light the candles and see the rose petals are,..
.... No Matter, enjoy my distillery. Please go anywhere you wish.
( He exits ..... )
Could the purple men be Orange men, as we could do a joke about a horrible Iron Bru accident, turning them
that colour ?
"I've been informed that there ARE a couple of QAnon supporters who are fairly regular posters in AJB."
(Sir James and Twys arrive at their destination, a castle-like building with a glass roof.)
Sir James: ‘Tis not quite what I was expecting...
Twys: Times change, Sir James. Ah, here comes ye owner now. (A man wearing a top hat and a brightly coloured coat approaches. He performs a quick somersault before introducing himself, doffing his hat and bowing deeply.)
Sir James: A colourful ensemble, good sir.
Willy: Could be worse, I could be wearing green trainers. (Willy replaces his top hat.)
Willy: Greetings, honoured guests, thou may know me as “Willy”. To what do I owe this pleasure?
Twys: I am Dr Knightley from ye vodka distillery, and this is he who called Bond, James Bond. We would very much appreciate a tour of thine wonderful establishment.
Willy: ‘Tis no problem, but I prithee to excuse mine inability to conduct thee on such a tour. And would ask thee to make thine own way.
Twys: ‘Tis a pity we shall be deprived of thine company.
Willy: Aye, for I must await here a visitor I was expecting… Charlie.
Twys: You were expecting some "Nose Candy "?
Willy: Nay, a young visitor who hath won a competition, called Charlie! (Willy looks down to the flowers and chocolates and hides them behind his back. A small bottle of blue pills falls to the ground which he quickly picks up.)
Willy: Just my rheumatism medicine, it assists with my ... er....... stiffness ...
Sir James: Why, nay. We hath seen no one.
Willy: Oh well. Please, enter by yon door there. I must away, to light the candles and see the rose petals are...... no matter, enjoy my distillery. Please go anywhere you wish. (He exits.)
(Sir James and Twys enter.)
Sir James: Most strange!
Twys: Aye, for ‘tis not like mine distillery at all. See, ye fields of hops growing there. And that golden brown river- if I be not mistaken, it doth smell like-
Sir James: Whisky! (Two figures emerge form ye shadows and begin to stalk Sir James and Twys.)
Twys: Aye, a river of whisky- and look, a boat!
Sir James: Let us have a closer inspection… (They board ye boat and begin to sail down ye river of tasty alcohol. Their followers sneak along ye bank.)
Twys: Look there, Sir James!
Sir James: Are those children harvesting ye crops? Child labour!
Twys: Nay, not children- those are little orange men. Hear them singing “Doompa Woompa” or such as they work.
Sir James: Orange men?
Twys: Aye, they used to be purple until an unfortunate accident at ye Irn Bru factory.
Sir James: Lo, another boat ahead. (They approach ye second boat.)
Sir James: Ahoy there! (A tousled head appears sleepily from behind ye bulwarks.)
Man: Avast behind!
Twys: No need to get personal, good sir, we have only just met. (A few other heads appear on ye second boat, gazing blearily at Sir James and Twys.)
Sir James: Mere tourists are we, sightseeing round this wonderful place. Do thee work here?
Man: Work? (He and his companions laugh.) Why, we pay Willy just to allow us here! Boating on a river made of whisky is ye stuff dreams are made of! Allow me to introduce ourselves- we are from ye British actors’ drinking club: I am Burton, this here is O’Toole, that is Harris, and that is Reed.
Twys: And ye one still sleeping?
Burton: Oh, I forget his name- we just call him Welshboy. And you, good sir?
Sir James: I am he who is called Bond, James Bond. No stranger to strong beverages am I.
Harris: Oh, thine reputation precedes thee! “Shaken, not stirred”, eh? (They laugh.)
O’Toole: Compared with us, dear boy, thou art but an amateur drinker.
Sir James: No doubt. My companion and I- (Suddenly they art assailed by arrows from ye shore of ye river.)
Burton: To our boat, apace! Reed, start ye motor! (Sir James and Twys leap onto ye other boat as arrows continue to fly towards them.)
Harris: Down there, quickly- to ye bottling area! (Ye two varlets race down ye banks following the boat, under a sign reading “Bottling Area- Please Take Care.”)
Sir James: So, there art five in thine party, eh?
Reed: Once we were six, but one of our colleagues- from ye colonies, Lord Dean Martin, fell into ye river. It took a long time for him to die.
Twys: Pray tell why?
Reed: He got out four times to use the privy! (In ye bottling area, ye little orange men fire corks from catapults into the tops of bottles. Sir James and company duck down, but one of ye varlets slips and is struck by one of ye corks from behind in a most uncomfortable area.)
Sir James: Oh! Skewered. One sympathises. (As ye boat leaves ye bottling area, ye remaining varlet continues to give chase.)
Sir James: Where art we heading now?
Burton: ‘Tis ye icing area- see, ahead! (Ye walls grow white with ice. Ye pursuing varlet slips, and ist crushed between two giant ice cubes.)
Sir James: On the rocks… (Ye boat glides smoothly to a berth.)
Burton: Most exciting this has been.
Sir James: We thank’ee for thine help.
Harris: No problem, this hast been fun.
Twys: Methinks we should get out of here, Sir James.
Sir James: Aye, let us go. (Ye little orange men watch them depart, then get back to their work.)
By all means feel free to alter the above, but the next scene is-
(Outside ye distillery.)
Twys: What a beautiful carriage thou doth have.
Sir James: Aye, make them like this they do not any more. I prithee, please enter. (They set off. Unbeknownest to them, another carriage doth follow at a discreet distance.)
Twys: Mmm, how comfortable thine carriage ist. What does this button do?
Sir James: Don’t touch that!!!
Twys: Hmm?
Sir James: Er, I have had a few optional extras installed.
Twys: Watch out for that man with green trainers! (Thump.)
Sir James: What?
Twys: Never mind. (Ye following carriage gets closer.)
Twys: Sir James, that carriage-
Sir James: - hath been following us for the last mile.
There is now a chase scene (all help welcome!) but it must end with Sir James captured by the villain.
Sir James: (Awakening.) ...oh Felix, wasn't it good for you too?... (Awakes.) Oh, right... I see...
Comte de Blofeld: Good evening, Sir James. I have been expecting thee.
Sir James: Comte de Blofeld! I had thought thou were held captive in ye Tower of London.
Comte: Thou must not believe everything thou dost read in ye "Daily Mail", Sir James. Or ye "Daily Express" either.
Sir James: Or "Ye Sun"?
Comte: Most especially not. Thou hast been prowling around ye distilleries of Great Britain, hast ye not?
Sir James: What of it? And where ist Twys?
Comte: Thou shalt find that out later.
And this leads to TP's scene-
Comte: Take Sir James to the archery range, present him to ye man of arms Sir Brucie Forsyth.
(Sir James is placed in front of a target.)
Sir Brucie: Would'st thee wish for a blindfold, Sir James?
Sir James: Nay, thee only lives twice. Once when'st born and again when'st staring death in the face.
Sir Brucie: Twice eh? (Turns to ye archery yeomen.) Nothing in this game for a pair! (He walks back to his yeomen archers... )
Yeomen: Doth that be a new uniform, Sir Brucie?
Sir Brucie: Aye, shall I give thee a twirl?
Yeomen: Fantastic as always, we'd score that a 10. Shall we post that with the others on your bedchamber entrance?
Sir Brucie: Aye, Let’s have a look at the scores on the doors.... later. Now men, Good aim, Good aim!
Sir James: Please do me the courtesy of aiming for my heart, for my love of Albion.
Sir Brucie: Very well, Higher,... Higher....... Lower, Good aim, Good aim!
So, some writing still to be done- I'll do it eventually if necessary but am perfectly happy for someone else to beat me to it.
An Alchemist makes a clockwork robot, who "absolutely will not stop ", could be a machine to
help stack Whisky barrels or some such. Sir James could use some ice to freeze him, and as in
the film, it breaks apart ?
The robot is stacking crates of Ass Beer, to be sent to Norway. Room for some jokes there, methinks.
Twys: This is where we make ye Ass Beer, for export to Norway.
Sir James: Ass Beer?
Twys: Aye, 'tis from the bottom of the barrel.
Then the scene can be fitted into one of the distillery visits above.
Twys: This is where we make ye Ass Beer, for export to Norway.
Sir James: Ass Beer?
Twys: Aye, 'tis from the bottom of the barrel. They use special Barrels, look
they all have a crack in the bottom. Then a mesh of material is placed over them
Sir James : Ah ! ... so they cover their Ass
Twys : Here try mine it be ...... Uh ? where's it gone
( Sir James, raises an eyebrow ... )
Twys : Hey, Who In here has had my Ass ?
( Several worker raise an arm .... )
Sir James : Nay she speaks of her Ale
( The workers lower their arms .. )
"I've been informed that there ARE a couple of QAnon supporters who are fairly regular posters in AJB."
(Twys leads Sir James through a doorway.)
Twys: This is where we make ye Ass Beer, for export to Norway.
Sir James: Ass Beer?
Twys: Aye, 'tis from the bottom of the barrel. They use special barrels- look, they all have a crack in the bottom. Then a mesh of material is placed over them.
Sir James: Ah ! ... so they cover their Ass.
Twys: Here try mine it be ..... Uh? Where's it gone? (Sir James raises an eyebrow .. )
Twys: Hey, who in here has had my Ass? (Several worker raise an arm enthusiastically.)
Sir James: Nay, she speaks of her ale. (Ye workers lower their arms.)
Twys: Oh, well, never mind.
Sir James: And what ist this here, Twys? (Sir James points to a large metallic figure hoisting barrels.)
Twys: Ah, that ist ye T800. ‘Twas built by an alchemist and runs on clockwork. It absolutely will not stop. Most marvellous, is it not? (Unseen, a varlet sneaks up behind ye T800 and alters its controls.)
Sir James: May I have a closer look?
Twys: But of course.
Sir James: I’ll be back. (Sir James approaches ye metallic figure, which abruptly changes position and throws a barrel at him. Sir James ducks out of its path.)
Sir James: What!
Twys: I don’t know, this hast never happened before- and I have total recall. (Ye T800 advances towards Sir James, arms held menacingly. Sir James leaps onto ye conveyor belt carrying barrels, and it follows. Sir James draws his crossbow and fires, but his bolts bounce harmlessly from its metallic skin.)
Twys: Do be careful, Sir James!
Sir James: Ye thought had occurred to me- I have no wish to be ye last action hero! (Ye conveyor belt approaches an icing chamber, where ye beer ist frozen, and Sir James leaps off in ye nick of time. The T800 ist frozen, and Sir James heaves a barrel at it, shattering it into a million pieces.)
Sir James: I hope he hath no twins...
Twys: Ah, here ist mine Ass! (Drinks heartily.)
Sir James: Methinks I would like some too after that! (Drinks.)
Twys: I forgot to tell thee of one unfortunate side-effect of this beer.
Sir James: Oh?
Twys: Aye, it makes thee... (They are interrupted by loud farting noises.)
Sir James: Ah, I see...
(Twys leads Sir James through a doorway.)
Twys: This is where we make ye Ass Beer, for export to Norway.
Sir James: Ass Beer?
Twys: Aye, 'tis from the bottom of the barrel. They use special barrels- look, they all have a crack in the bottom. Then a mesh of material is placed over them.
Sir James: Ah ! ... so they cover their Ass.
Twys: Here try mine it be ..... Uh? Where's it gone?
(Sir James raises an eyebrow .. )
Twys: Hey, who in here has had my Ass?
(Several worker raise an arm enthusiastically.)
Sir James: Nay, she speaks of her ale.
( Disappointingly, Ye workers lower their arms.)
Twys: Oh, well, never mind.
Sir James: And what ist this here, Twys?
(Sir James points to a large metallic figure hoisting barrels.)
Twys: Ah, that ist ye T800. ‘Twas built by an alchemist and runs on clockwork. It absolutely will not stop. Most marvellous, is it not? It is said to have cost a fortune of 60 Colonial dollars to make ! All its wheels and cogs
come from the Empire of Japan from the Datsun carriage company.
(Unseen, a varlet sneaks up behind ye T800 and alters its controls.)
Sir James: May I have a closer look?, I hath never seen the sixty dollar man before.
Twys: But of course.
Sir James: I’ll be back..... As the Old wizard told me always have an Escape Plan.
(Sir James approaches ye metallic figure, which abruptly changes position and throws a series of barrels at him. Sir James repeatedly Jumps out of their path.)
Sir James: What! T'is like a game boy !
Twys: I don’t know, this hast never happened before- and I have total recall.
(Ye T800 advances towards Sir James, arms held menacingly. Sir James leaps onto ye conveyor belt carrying barrels, and it follows. Sir James draws his crossbow and fires, but his bolts bounce harmlessly from its metallic skin.)
Twys: Do be careful, Sir James!
Sir James: Ye thought had occurred to me- I have no wish to be ye last action hero!
(Ye conveyor belt approaches an icing chamber, where ye beer ist frozen, and Sir James leaps off in ye nick of time. The T800 ist frozen, and Sir James heaves a barrel at it, shattering it into a million pieces.)
Sir James: I hope he hath no twins.... Looks like it's raining Datsun Cogs !
Twys: Ah, here ist mine Ass! (Drinks heartily.)
Sir James: Methinks I would like some too after that! (Drinks.)
Twys: I forgot to tell thee of one unfortunate side-effect of this beer.
Sir James: Oh?
Twys: Aye, it makes thee...
(They are interrupted by loud farting noises.)
Sir James: Ah, I see....... Would'st thee light a match ?
"I've been informed that there ARE a couple of QAnon supporters who are fairly regular posters in AJB."
Comments
(Sir James and Lord Felix go into a second tavern.)
Innkeeper: And what would thee like to drink, gentlemen?
Sir James: I will have a mead, let it shaken be and not stirred.
Lord Felix: Where ist thine sense of adventure, Sir James? Innkeeper, we shalt have two Bloody Marys.
(Ye bar goes silent. Ye band stops playing "Good Morning London Town". A darts player freezes mid-throw. In the distance, a wolf howls. Heads slowly turn to stare at Sir James and Lord Felix.)
Varlet: Bloody Marys, eh?
(He throws a dagger at Lord Felix, narrowly missing, then takes to his heels.)
Lord Felix: After him! Run, James, run!
(Sir James chases ye varlet through ye streets. They battle with swords, then the varlet runs off. Sir James pulls out his crossbow and shoots several times, narrowly missing. The varlet trips and falls, his sword lying just outside his arms reach. Sir James walks slowly up to him, crossbow in hand.)
Sir James: I know what thou art thinking: "Did he fire six arrows or only five?" Well to tell thee the truth, in all this excitement, I hast kind of lost track myself. But being this is a 44 crossbow, the most powerful crossbow in the world, and would blow your head clean off, thou hast got to ask thineself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do thee, varlet?
(The varlet gives up trying to retrieve his sword. Sir James picks it up and starts to walk away, as Lord Felix and ye constables arrive.)
Varlet: Hey! (Sir James turns around.) I gots to know...
(Sir James recocks and aims his crossbow and pulls ye trigger, but it just clicks and he grins, laughs, and walks away.)
Varlet: Son of a bitch…
Sir James: Greetings, Young Wizard.
Young Wizard: Most pleased I am to see thee, Naught Naught Seven. Thine attention I crave- behold this enchanted blond wig! If thou do wear it, thou can tell ye most outrageous lies and everyone shalt believe thee.
Sir James: And what ist it called?
Young Wizard: We call it ye “Donald”.
Sir James: Not ye "Boris", then?
Young Wizard: Nay, we did try that but no-one believed ye lies. Now, what can I do for thee, Naught Naught Seven?
Sir James: I have been charged by Sir Gareth to look into ye drink known as ye “Bloody Mary”.
Young Wizard: Ah, ‘tis one of a wide range of drinks named after Royals.
Sir James: Such as?
Young Wizard: I prithee, look here. (He mixes some fluids together.) This be called ye “Phizzing Philip”. Thou art not recommended to drive thine carriage after one of these. Or speak with foreigners.
Any other Royal drink ideas?
Sir James: Are there any more?
Young Wizard: "The Charles". It has been stored and aged for decades, ready for the right time. It may have been ageing for too long and gotten a bitter after taste.
Sir James: I see. What can thee tell me about ye Bloody Mary?
Young Wizard: Because of its association with Mary, Queen Of Scots, it hath become a symbol for rebellious Scots. Their leader, Red Nicola, ist considering using it as a flag.
Sir James: Then 'tis most important we stamp it out! 'Twould never do for ye Scots to leave ye United Kingdom only to join ye European Union and prosper.
"The Martha": One drink will make you belive you're seeing angels, two will convince you that you can cure cancer with Your will.
Sir James: Are there any more?
Young Wizard: "The Charles". It has been stored and aged for decades, ready for the right time. It may have been ageing for too long and gotten a bitter after taste.
Sir James: I see.
Young Wizard: There ist also ye "Martha" One drink will make you believe you're seeing angels, two will convince you that you can cure cancer with your will. If you're Norwegian, that is.
Sir James: But of course. What can thee tell me about ye Bloody Mary?
Young Wizard: Because of its association with Mary, Queen Of Scots, it hath become a symbol for rebellious Scots. Their leader, Red Nicola, ist considering using it as a flag.
Sir James: Then 'tis most important we stamp it out! 'Twould never do for ye Scots to leave ye United Kingdom only to join ye European Union and prosper.
Ivana Gettemoff
Mipusi Cravezthee
Lemmy Pleaseyou
etc. Any ideas?
I'll start writing the next scene soon, but am stuck on the name for the leading lady.
(A vodka distillery. Sir James sits with ye director.)
Sir James: 'Tis good of thee to see me at such short notice, director. I understand thou art here from ye land of ye Tsars?
Director: Da, and I understand thou art a representative of Her Majesty's Government. Thou art not, perchance, a politician?
Sir James: Why, nay, I work for, er, ye Foreign Office. A mere Civil Servant am I.
Director: Glad am I to hear this. Last week we did have a delegation of Members of Parliament. Most disruptive.
Sir James: Oh? And what did they seek?
Director: 'Tis most curious, I do believe they were after broth, or mayhap consommé.
Sir James: Broth? Consommé?
Director: Aye, I didst hear them talk- forgive me, mine English ist not good- I didst hear them say that they were attempting to organise some pea soup.
Sir James: (Confused.) Pea soup?
Director: 'Tis so. Apparently the week before they had been attempting to organise a pea soup in a brewery and had failed in this endeavour...
Sir James: (Light dawning.) No surprise there.
Director: ...so they were attempting to do the same thing in mine distillery. Alas, they failed there also.
Sir James: Knock me down with a feather.
Director: Would thee like a tour of this establishment?
Sir James: Very much so.
Director: Then seek ye Apothecary Knightley.
(In ye distillery, Sir James approaches a most comely wench.)
Sur James: Ahem.
Apothecary Knightley: Can I help thee?
Sir James: Aye, I am he who ist called Bond, James Bond. I seek Apothecary Knightley.
Apothecary Knightley: Thou hast found her.
Sir James: An individual who identifies as being of ye feminine gender.
Apothecary Knightley: Thine command of current pointless idiom does ye credit, Yeoman Bond.
Sir James: Sir James... to mine friends.
Apothecary Knightley: Twys Knightley.
Sir James: Twys Knightley?
Twys: Aye, I am ye middle of three children. Well, Sir James I guess we'd better get started. You don't want to lose as much time as Eon have wasted this last decade, do you?
(Deep in ye distillery.)
Twys: In this barrel we have ye vodka which ist sent to ye Blades club, containing a pinch of pepper- but thou would know about that...?
Sir James: Aye, 'twas I who introduced them to the habit, more years ago than I could believably mention. And this barrel?
Twys: This barrel hast ye vodka flavoured with smalahove- 'tis a special consignment for Norway.
Sir James: Inconceivable. And this?
Twys: This barrel contains a certain proportion of tomato juice along with ye vodka, to create a "Bloody Mary".
Sir James: So! Ist this sent to Scotland?
Twys: Nay, our sales to Scotland are very low- they have their own drink there called "whisky".
Sir James: Ah yes, I believe I have heard of this. So, where dost thee send thine barrels of Bloody Mary?
Twys: I am sorry, Sir James, but that information ist on a need to know basis. Section 26, paragraph 5. Sure thee understand.
Sir James: But of course. Enough have I seen, to London I must make haste. Wouldst thee care to accompany me, and mayhap have dinner en route?
Twys: Why, Sir James,‘tis so sudden. And thou art unknown to me, a strange gentleman.
Sir James: Ten minutes, then?
Twys: Make it five.
Twys: What a beautiful carriage thou doth have.
Sir James: Aye, make them like this they do not any more. I prithee, please enter.
(They set off. Unbeknownest to them, another carriage doth follow at a discreet distance.)
Twys: Mmm, how comfortable thine carriage ist. What does this button do?
Sir James: Don’t touch that!!!
Twys: Hmm?
Sir James: Er, I have had a few optional extras installed.
Twys: Watch out for that man with green trainers!
(Thump.)
Sir James: What?
Twys: Never mind.
(Ye following carriage gets closer.)
Twys: Sir James, that carriage-
Sir James: - hath been following us for the last mile.
Chase scene ensures.... As you all know (see earlier), I'd prefer someone else writing it!
I'll write it if no-one else wants to, but by this point it's clear that the chase scenes aren't my strong point. All help welcome!
has passed me by, so apologies if any of these ideas have already been suggested etc.
Could the distillery be a sort of Willy Wonka's Whisky Factory ?
then a possible chase along a river of whiskey ( and other drinks )
passing through a bottling area, where a cork could be stuck somewhere embarrassing ?
" Oh ! Skewered, One sympathises "
With Sir James taking control of a visitors boat filled with famous whisky lovers i.e.
Sir Oliver Reed, Sir Richard Burton, Sir Richard Harris, Sir Welshboy78 ( or any other
members who like the filthy stuff
by drinking the incoming liquid ?
Possible deaths of villains, One crushed by Ice, with a possible line
" Well he did want it on the rocks ".... " Plenty of ice, if you can spare it " ...
" The coldest weapon of all "
Could add the old joke about ....
Villain: " We drowned one of your colleagues a Sir Dean Martin in a whisky vat once,
it took a long time for him to die.
Sir James : Pray tell why ?
Villain : He got out four times to use the privy !
An Alchemist makes a clockwork robot, who "absolutely will not stop ", could be a machine to
help stack Whisky barrels or some such. Sir James could use some ice to freeze him, and as in
the film, it breaks apart ?
(As ever, please feel free to change any of this)
(Sir James and Twys arrive at their destination, a castle-like building with a glass roof.)
Sir James: ‘Tis not quite what I was expecting...
Twys: Times change, Sir James. Ah, here comes ye owner now.
(A man wearing a top hat and a brightly coloured coat approaches. He performs a quick somersault before introducing himself, doffing his hat and bowing deeply.)
Willy: Greetings, honoured guests, thou may know me as “Willy”. To what do I owe this pleasure?
Twys: I am Dr Knightley from ye vodka distillery, and this is he who called Bond, James Bond. We would very much appreciate a tour of thine wonderful establishment.
Willy: ‘Tis no problem, but I prithee to excuse mine inability to conduct thee on such a tour. And would ask thee to make thine own way.
Twys: ‘Tis a pity we shall be deprived of thine company.
Willy: Aye, for I must await here a visitor I was expecting… Thou did not perchance meet a small boy called Charlie on thine way?
Sir James: Why, nay.
Willy: Oh well. Please, enter by yon door there.
(Sir James and Twys enter.)
Sir James: Most strange!
Twys: Aye, for ‘tis not like mine distillery at all. See, ye fields of hops growing there. And that golden brown river- if I be not mistaken, it doth smell like-
Sir James: Whisky!
(Two figures emerge form ye shadows and begin to stalk Sir James and Twys.)
Twys: Aye, a river of whisky- and look, a boat!
Sir James: Let us have a closer inspection…
(They board ye boat and begin to sail down ye river of tasty alcohol. Their followers sneak along ye bank.)
Twys: Look there, Sir James!
Sir James: Are those children harvesting ye crops? Child labour!
Twys: Nay, not children- those are little purple men. Hear them singing “Doompa Woompa” or such as they work.
Sir James: Lo, another boat ahead.
(They approach ye second boat.)
Sir James: Ahoy there!
(A tousled head appears sleepily from behind ye bulwarks.)
Man: Avast behind!
Twys: No need to get personal, good sir, we have only just met.
(A few other heads appear on ye second boat, gazing blearily at Sir James and Twys.)
Sir James: Mere tourists are we, sightseeing round this wonderful place. Do thee work here?
Man: Work? (He and his companions laugh.) Why, we pay Willy just to allow us here! Boating on a river made of whisky is ye stuff dreams are made of! Allow me to introduce ourselves- we are from ye British actors’ drinking club: I am Burton, this here is O’Toole, that is Harris, and that is Reed.
Twys: And ye one still sleeping?
Burton: Oh, I forget his name- we just call him Welshboy. And you, good sir?
Sir James: I am he who is called Bond, James Bond. No stranger to strong beverages am I.
Harris: Oh, thine reputation precedes thee! “Shaken, not stirred”, eh? (They laugh.)
O’Toole: Compared with us, dear boy, thou art but an amateur drinker.
Sir James: No doubt. My companion and I-
(Suddenly they art assailed by arrows from ye shore of ye river.)
Burton: To our boat, apace! Reed, start ye motor!
(Sir James and Twys leap onto ye other boat as arrows continue to fly towards them.)
Harris: Down there, quickly- to ye bottling area!
(Ye two varlets race down ye banks following the boat, under a sign reading “Bottling Area- Please Take Care.”)
Sir James: So, there art five in thine party, eh?
Reed: Once we were six, but one of our colleagues- from ye colonies, Lord Dean Martin, fell into ye river. It took a long time for him to die.
Twys: Pray tell why?
Reed: He got out four times to use the privy!
(In ye bottling area, ye little purple men fire corks from catapults into the tops of bottles. Sir James and company duck down, but one of ye varlets slips and is struck by one of ye corks from behind in a most uncomfortable area.)
Sir James: Oh! Skewered. One sympathises.
(As ye boat leaves ye bottling area, ye remaining varlet continues to give chase.)
Sir James: Where art we heading now?
Burton: ‘Tis ye icing area- see, ahead!
(Ye walls grow white with ice. Ye pursuing varlet slips, and ist crushed between two giant ice cubes.)
Sir James: On the rocks…
(Ye boat glides smoothly to a berth.)
Burton: Most exciting this has been.
Sir James: We thank’ee for thine help.
Harris: No problem, this hast been fun.
Twys: Methinks we should get out of here, Sir James.
Sir James: Aye, let us go.
(Ye little purple men watch them depart, then get back to their work.)
Sir James: ‘Tis not quite what I was expecting...
Twys: Times change, Sir James. Ah, here comes ye owner now.
(A man wearing a top hat and a brightly coloured coat approaches. He performs a quick somersault before introducing himself, doffing his hat and bowing deeply.)
Sir James : A colourful ensemble good sir
Willy : Could be worse, I could be wearing green trainers
( Willy replaces his top hat )
Willy: Greetings, honoured guests, thou may know me as “Willy”. To what do I owe this pleasure?
Twys: I am Dr Knightley from ye vodka distillery, and this is he who called Bond, James Bond. We would very much appreciate a tour of thine wonderful establishment.
Willy: ‘Tis no problem, but I prithee to excuse mine inability to conduct thee on such a tour. And would ask thee to make thine own way.
Twys: ‘Tis a pity we shall be deprived of thine company.
Willy: Aye, for I must await here a visitor I was expecting… Charlie
Twys : You were expecting some " Nose Candy " ?
Willy : Nay, a young Visitor who hath won a competition, Charlie !
( Willy, looks down to the flowers and chocolates and hides them behind his back ... a small bottle of blue
pills falls to the ground which he quickly picks up ... )
Willy : Just my rheumatism medicine, it assists with my .... er? ....... stiffness ...
Sir James: Why, nay. We hath seen no one
Willy: Oh well. Please, enter by yon door there. I must away, to light the candles and see the rose petals are,..
.... No Matter, enjoy my distillery. Please go anywhere you wish.
( He exits ..... )
Could the purple men be Orange men, as we could do a joke about a horrible Iron Bru accident, turning them
that colour ?
(Sir James and Twys arrive at their destination, a castle-like building with a glass roof.)
Sir James: ‘Tis not quite what I was expecting...
Twys: Times change, Sir James. Ah, here comes ye owner now.
(A man wearing a top hat and a brightly coloured coat approaches. He performs a quick somersault before introducing himself, doffing his hat and bowing deeply.)
Sir James: A colourful ensemble, good sir.
Willy: Could be worse, I could be wearing green trainers.
(Willy replaces his top hat.)
Willy: Greetings, honoured guests, thou may know me as “Willy”. To what do I owe this pleasure?
Twys: I am Dr Knightley from ye vodka distillery, and this is he who called Bond, James Bond. We would very much appreciate a tour of thine wonderful establishment.
Willy: ‘Tis no problem, but I prithee to excuse mine inability to conduct thee on such a tour. And would ask thee to make thine own way.
Twys: ‘Tis a pity we shall be deprived of thine company.
Willy: Aye, for I must await here a visitor I was expecting… Charlie.
Twys: You were expecting some "Nose Candy "?
Willy: Nay, a young visitor who hath won a competition, called Charlie!
(Willy looks down to the flowers and chocolates and hides them behind his back. A small bottle of blue pills falls to the ground which he quickly picks up.)
Willy: Just my rheumatism medicine, it assists with my ... er....... stiffness ...
Sir James: Why, nay. We hath seen no one.
Willy: Oh well. Please, enter by yon door there. I must away, to light the candles and see the rose petals are...... no matter, enjoy my distillery. Please go anywhere you wish.
(He exits.)
(Sir James and Twys enter.)
Sir James: Most strange!
Twys: Aye, for ‘tis not like mine distillery at all. See, ye fields of hops growing there. And that golden brown river- if I be not mistaken, it doth smell like-
Sir James: Whisky!
(Two figures emerge form ye shadows and begin to stalk Sir James and Twys.)
Twys: Aye, a river of whisky- and look, a boat!
Sir James: Let us have a closer inspection…
(They board ye boat and begin to sail down ye river of tasty alcohol. Their followers sneak along ye bank.)
Twys: Look there, Sir James!
Sir James: Are those children harvesting ye crops? Child labour!
Twys: Nay, not children- those are little orange men. Hear them singing “Doompa Woompa” or such as they work.
Sir James: Orange men?
Twys: Aye, they used to be purple until an unfortunate accident at ye Irn Bru factory.
Sir James: Lo, another boat ahead.
(They approach ye second boat.)
Sir James: Ahoy there!
(A tousled head appears sleepily from behind ye bulwarks.)
Man: Avast behind!
Twys: No need to get personal, good sir, we have only just met.
(A few other heads appear on ye second boat, gazing blearily at Sir James and Twys.)
Sir James: Mere tourists are we, sightseeing round this wonderful place. Do thee work here?
Man: Work? (He and his companions laugh.) Why, we pay Willy just to allow us here! Boating on a river made of whisky is ye stuff dreams are made of! Allow me to introduce ourselves- we are from ye British actors’ drinking club: I am Burton, this here is O’Toole, that is Harris, and that is Reed.
Twys: And ye one still sleeping?
Burton: Oh, I forget his name- we just call him Welshboy. And you, good sir?
Sir James: I am he who is called Bond, James Bond. No stranger to strong beverages am I.
Harris: Oh, thine reputation precedes thee! “Shaken, not stirred”, eh? (They laugh.)
O’Toole: Compared with us, dear boy, thou art but an amateur drinker.
Sir James: No doubt. My companion and I-
(Suddenly they art assailed by arrows from ye shore of ye river.)
Burton: To our boat, apace! Reed, start ye motor!
(Sir James and Twys leap onto ye other boat as arrows continue to fly towards them.)
Harris: Down there, quickly- to ye bottling area!
(Ye two varlets race down ye banks following the boat, under a sign reading “Bottling Area- Please Take Care.”)
Sir James: So, there art five in thine party, eh?
Reed: Once we were six, but one of our colleagues- from ye colonies, Lord Dean Martin, fell into ye river. It took a long time for him to die.
Twys: Pray tell why?
Reed: He got out four times to use the privy!
(In ye bottling area, ye little orange men fire corks from catapults into the tops of bottles. Sir James and company duck down, but one of ye varlets slips and is struck by one of ye corks from behind in a most uncomfortable area.)
Sir James: Oh! Skewered. One sympathises.
(As ye boat leaves ye bottling area, ye remaining varlet continues to give chase.)
Sir James: Where art we heading now?
Burton: ‘Tis ye icing area- see, ahead!
(Ye walls grow white with ice. Ye pursuing varlet slips, and ist crushed between two giant ice cubes.)
Sir James: On the rocks…
(Ye boat glides smoothly to a berth.)
Burton: Most exciting this has been.
Sir James: We thank’ee for thine help.
Harris: No problem, this hast been fun.
Twys: Methinks we should get out of here, Sir James.
Sir James: Aye, let us go.
(Ye little orange men watch them depart, then get back to their work.)
(Outside ye distillery.)
Twys: What a beautiful carriage thou doth have.
Sir James: Aye, make them like this they do not any more. I prithee, please enter.
(They set off. Unbeknownest to them, another carriage doth follow at a discreet distance.)
Twys: Mmm, how comfortable thine carriage ist. What does this button do?
Sir James: Don’t touch that!!!
Twys: Hmm?
Sir James: Er, I have had a few optional extras installed.
Twys: Watch out for that man with green trainers!
(Thump.)
Sir James: What?
Twys: Never mind.
(Ye following carriage gets closer.)
Twys: Sir James, that carriage-
Sir James: - hath been following us for the last mile.
There is now a chase scene (all help welcome!) but it must end with Sir James captured by the villain.
Sir James: (Awakening.) ...oh Felix, wasn't it good for you too?... (Awakes.) Oh, right... I see...
Comte de Blofeld: Good evening, Sir James. I have been expecting thee.
Sir James: Comte de Blofeld! I had thought thou were held captive in ye Tower of London.
Comte: Thou must not believe everything thou dost read in ye "Daily Mail", Sir James. Or ye "Daily Express" either.
Sir James: Or "Ye Sun"?
Comte: Most especially not. Thou hast been prowling around ye distilleries of Great Britain, hast ye not?
Sir James: What of it? And where ist Twys?
Comte: Thou shalt find that out later.
And this leads to TP's scene-
Comte: Take Sir James to the archery range, present him to ye man of arms Sir Brucie Forsyth.
(Sir James is placed in front of a target.)
Sir Brucie: Would'st thee wish for a blindfold, Sir James?
Sir James: Nay, thee only lives twice. Once when'st born and again when'st staring death in the face.
Sir Brucie: Twice eh? (Turns to ye archery yeomen.) Nothing in this game for a pair!
(He walks back to his yeomen archers... )
Yeomen: Doth that be a new uniform, Sir Brucie?
Sir Brucie: Aye, shall I give thee a twirl?
Yeomen: Fantastic as always, we'd score that a 10. Shall we post that with the others on your bedchamber entrance?
Sir Brucie: Aye, Let’s have a look at the scores on the doors.... later. Now men, Good aim, Good aim!
Sir James: Please do me the courtesy of aiming for my heart, for my love of Albion.
Sir Brucie: Very well, Higher,... Higher....... Lower, Good aim, Good aim!
So, some writing still to be done- I'll do it eventually if necessary but am perfectly happy for someone else to beat me to it.
The robot is stacking crates of Ass Beer, to be sent to Norway. Room for some jokes there, methinks.
Twys: This is where we make ye Ass Beer, for export to Norway.
Sir James: Ass Beer?
Twys: Aye, 'tis from the bottom of the barrel.
Then the scene can be fitted into one of the distillery visits above.
Sir James: Ass Beer?
Twys: Aye, 'tis from the bottom of the barrel. They use special Barrels, look
they all have a crack in the bottom. Then a mesh of material is placed over them
Sir James : Ah ! ... so they cover their Ass
Twys : Here try mine it be ...... Uh ? where's it gone
( Sir James, raises an eyebrow ... )
Twys : Hey, Who In here has had my Ass ?
( Several worker raise an arm .... )
Sir James : Nay she speaks of her Ale
( The workers lower their arms .. )
Expanded to include your earlier idea....
(Twys leads Sir James through a doorway.)
Twys: This is where we make ye Ass Beer, for export to Norway.
Sir James: Ass Beer?
Twys: Aye, 'tis from the bottom of the barrel. They use special barrels- look, they all have a crack in the bottom. Then a mesh of material is placed over them.
Sir James: Ah ! ... so they cover their Ass.
Twys: Here try mine it be ..... Uh? Where's it gone?
(Sir James raises an eyebrow .. )
Twys: Hey, who in here has had my Ass?
(Several worker raise an arm enthusiastically.)
Sir James: Nay, she speaks of her ale.
(Ye workers lower their arms.)
Twys: Oh, well, never mind.
Sir James: And what ist this here, Twys?
(Sir James points to a large metallic figure hoisting barrels.)
Twys: Ah, that ist ye T800. ‘Twas built by an alchemist and runs on clockwork. It absolutely will not stop. Most marvellous, is it not?
(Unseen, a varlet sneaks up behind ye T800 and alters its controls.)
Sir James: May I have a closer look?
Twys: But of course.
Sir James: I’ll be back.
(Sir James approaches ye metallic figure, which abruptly changes position and throws a barrel at him. Sir James ducks out of its path.)
Sir James: What!
Twys: I don’t know, this hast never happened before- and I have total recall.
(Ye T800 advances towards Sir James, arms held menacingly. Sir James leaps onto ye conveyor belt carrying barrels, and it follows. Sir James draws his crossbow and fires, but his bolts bounce harmlessly from its metallic skin.)
Twys: Do be careful, Sir James!
Sir James: Ye thought had occurred to me- I have no wish to be ye last action hero!
(Ye conveyor belt approaches an icing chamber, where ye beer ist frozen, and Sir James leaps off in ye nick of time. The T800 ist frozen, and Sir James heaves a barrel at it, shattering it into a million pieces.)
Sir James: I hope he hath no twins...
Twys: Ah, here ist mine Ass! (Drinks heartily.)
Sir James: Methinks I would like some too after that! (Drinks.)
Twys: I forgot to tell thee of one unfortunate side-effect of this beer.
Sir James: Oh?
Twys: Aye, it makes thee...
(They are interrupted by loud farting noises.)
Sir James: Ah, I see...
Twys: This is where we make ye Ass Beer, for export to Norway.
Sir James: Ass Beer?
Twys: Aye, 'tis from the bottom of the barrel. They use special barrels- look, they all have a crack in the bottom. Then a mesh of material is placed over them.
Sir James: Ah ! ... so they cover their Ass.
Twys: Here try mine it be ..... Uh? Where's it gone?
(Sir James raises an eyebrow .. )
Twys: Hey, who in here has had my Ass?
(Several worker raise an arm enthusiastically.)
Sir James: Nay, she speaks of her ale.
( Disappointingly, Ye workers lower their arms.)
Twys: Oh, well, never mind.
Sir James: And what ist this here, Twys?
(Sir James points to a large metallic figure hoisting barrels.)
Twys: Ah, that ist ye T800. ‘Twas built by an alchemist and runs on clockwork. It absolutely will not stop. Most marvellous, is it not? It is said to have cost a fortune of 60 Colonial dollars to make ! All its wheels and cogs
come from the Empire of Japan from the Datsun carriage company.
(Unseen, a varlet sneaks up behind ye T800 and alters its controls.)
Sir James: May I have a closer look?, I hath never seen the sixty dollar man before.
Twys: But of course.
Sir James: I’ll be back..... As the Old wizard told me always have an Escape Plan.
(Sir James approaches ye metallic figure, which abruptly changes position and throws a series of barrels at him. Sir James repeatedly Jumps out of their path.)
Sir James: What! T'is like a game boy !
Twys: I don’t know, this hast never happened before- and I have total recall.
(Ye T800 advances towards Sir James, arms held menacingly. Sir James leaps onto ye conveyor belt carrying barrels, and it follows. Sir James draws his crossbow and fires, but his bolts bounce harmlessly from its metallic skin.)
Twys: Do be careful, Sir James!
Sir James: Ye thought had occurred to me- I have no wish to be ye last action hero!
(Ye conveyor belt approaches an icing chamber, where ye beer ist frozen, and Sir James leaps off in ye nick of time. The T800 ist frozen, and Sir James heaves a barrel at it, shattering it into a million pieces.)
Sir James: I hope he hath no twins.... Looks like it's raining Datsun Cogs !
Twys: Ah, here ist mine Ass! (Drinks heartily.)
Sir James: Methinks I would like some too after that! (Drinks.)
Twys: I forgot to tell thee of one unfortunate side-effect of this beer.
Sir James: Oh?
Twys: Aye, it makes thee...
(They are interrupted by loud farting noises.)
Sir James: Ah, I see....... Would'st thee light a match ?
What's a great movie car chase scene we can parody? Not Bullitt or French Connection ....