576

Re: Imaginary conversations

ajb007/lol  ajb007/lol  ajb007/lol

577

Re: Imaginary conversations

Fantastic!!!  ajb007/lol

578

Re: Imaginary conversations

1963 (A garden.)

(A well-muscled blond man follows a shadowy figure. Almost like a dance the two men move through the formal garden......
The blond man steps down onto a twig, and the loud snap is heard by the other man, who quickly changes his direction. The blond man steps back onto a cat, who squeals loudly. Again the other man looks around. Walking again the blond man steps on a whoopee cushion, letting forth a loud farting sound. The other man sniffs the air, then checks his shoes.
Quickly the blond man paces forward, stepping on a rake, which springs up hitting him directly in his most private part. He cries out a loud expletive. The other moves in for the kill, but suddenly from behind him the blond man appears, pulling out from his wristwatch a long piece of wire and expelling the life from his target.
Immediately lights come on and the garden is illuminated. A figure approaches as the blond man once again conceals his weapon.)

Morzeny: Excellent, that was the quickest yet.
(He bends down to remove the target’s facemask, then starts in surprise.)
Morzeny: What? Blond hair, horn-rimmed glasses, a trenchcoat? You fool, Grant, you were supposed to kill James Bond- this is Harry Palmer!
(The blond man just turns and leaves....)



Inspired by SpectreOfDefeat's excellent post above; chunks lifted from Thunderpussy's work in the Shakespeare thread; dedicated to caractacus potts.

579

Re: Imaginary conversations

ajb007/lol  I love having my chunks lifted  ajb007/martini

“God has given you one face, and you make yourself another"

580

Re: Imaginary conversations

Every man has his passion.....

581

Re: Imaginary conversations

As a man who grew up on a farm I can tell you rakes hits you in the face, not the balls, when you step on them. In spite of this grave error I would also like to say:  ajb007/lol  ajb007/lol  ajb007/lol  ajb007/lol

582

Re: Imaginary conversations

Surely that has more to do with the size of your equipment  ajb007/wink  or rather
The size of your rake  ajb007/tongue

“God has given you one face, and you make yourself another"

583

Re: Imaginary conversations

ajb007/lol  ajb007/lol  ajb007/lol  True!

584

Re: Imaginary conversations

So ..... we're discussing the size of our rakes now?  ajb007/shifty

585

Re: Imaginary conversations

I have a strimmer, I like a clean work area  ajb007/wink

“God has given you one face, and you make yourself another"

586

Re: Imaginary conversations

When my grandpa had to cut the lawn he used one of these (a picture speaks louder English words I don't know). He didn't know the word "macho", but he absolutely was  ajb007/lol 

https://rmsalg.no/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/f/c/fc_210_3vs_1.jpg

587

Re: Imaginary conversations

1965. M's office, somewhere in Regent's Park.

A tall, slim secret agent walks into a plush office, behind which sits M, the head of the secret service.

M: Take off your jacket. Give me your gun. Yes, I thought so. This damn Beretta again. I've told you about this before. You tell him - for the last time.
Armourer: Nice and light - in a lady's handbag. No stopping power.
M: Any comments, 007?
Palmer: 007? Ah, I think you have the wrong man, sir. And, ah, where is Colonel Ross?
M: It jammed on your last job and you spent six months in hospital. A double-O number means you're licensed to kill, not get killed. And another thing. Since I've been head of Ml6, there's been a 40% drop in double-O casualties. I want it to stay that way. You'll carry the Walther. Unless you'd prefer to go back to standard intelligence duties?
Palmer: That's usually what happens when I get back from a mission, sir. Umm, M, is it? M, can I have a car loan? £800 should do it. I've met this smashing bird and I want to take her out to the pictures on Tuesday.
M: From now on you carry a different gun. Show him, armourer.
Palmer: Don't I have to fill in a T-105 to get one of those?
Armourer: Walther PPK. 7.65mm. Takes a Brausch silencer, with very little reduction in muzzle velocity. The American CIA swear by them.
Palmer: CIA? I bet their agents get cars on the firm. Now about that loan, sir. Chico reckons you gave him one, and he hasn't been risking life and limb like I have, sir.
M: Any final comments, armourer?
Armourer: Be careful with that Walther, 007. It has a delivery like a brick through a plate-glass window.
Palmer: A plate-glass window? I might only need to blow the bloody doors off...

"How was your lamb?" "Skewered. One sympathises."

588

Re: Imaginary conversations

I wonder what happens when Bond meets colonel Ross?  ajb007/lol  ajb007/lol  ajb007/lol

589

Re: Imaginary conversations

Charmed & Dangerous wrote:

1965. M's office, somewhere in Regent's Park.
.......
Palmer: A plate-glass window? I might only need to blow the bloody doors off...

ajb007/biggrin  ajb007/biggrin  ajb007/biggrin   ajb007/biggrin

590

Re: Imaginary conversations

Q’s Laboratory. 1964.



James Bond walks in. Q stands at a desk, surrounded by various white-coated assistants testing apparently innocuous but highly deadly paraphernalia.
James Bond: Good morning, Q.
Q: Ah, good morning, 007.
As Bond crosses the room we see the wreckage of a large black attaché case, lying tattered on a workbench. Several engineers are hard at work trying to repair it.
James Bond: Ah, I see you put the suitcase back together.
Q:  If, 007, you actually bothered to return any of this department’s equipment in pristine order, I might actually start to look forward to these meetings.
There is an ear-splitting bang and the suitcase gives off an explosive puff of smoke. Q sighs.
James Bond: What can I say? I’m a light traveller.
Q: Oh, grow up, 007. Now, I understand you’re headed to South America, so I’ve devised the perfect method of disguise for use in the field…
James Bond: And what might that be? An invisible car?
Q: Oh no, that’s rather far-fetched even for us, 007. Now pay attention. This I’m particularly proud of. This is a simple device to use. Simply place the unit on the wearer’s head and press this button. It’s effective underwater at a depth of about ten metres, invisible to radar…
James Bond: It’s a dead duck.
Q looks pained.
Q: Well…yes…but it’s also a highly sophisticated stealth camouflage apparatus, derived from the latest experimental technology. From next year this will become standard issue for all NATO and allied services.
James Bond: I’m not putting a deceased bird on my head!  How about an Aston Martin, or a laser watch, or an exploding pen, perhaps? Anything!
Q: We don’t really go in for that kind of thing yet.
James Bond: I’ll be careful if I come under enemy fire…
Q: Really?
James Bond: Yes, I’ll have to duck!
Q: Oh, grow up, 007!

591

Re: Imaginary conversations

Charmed & Dangerous wrote:

1965. M's office, somewhere in Regent's Park.

A tall, slim secret agent walks into a plush office, behind which sits M, the head of the secret service.

M: Take off your jacket. Give me your gun. Yes, I thought so. This damn Beretta again. I've told you about this before. You tell him - for the last time.
Armourer: Nice and light - in a lady's handbag. No stopping power.
M: Any comments, 007?
Palmer: 007? Ah, I think you have the wrong man, sir. And, ah, where is Colonel Ross?
M: It jammed on your last job and you spent six months in hospital. A double-O number means you're licensed to kill, not get killed. And another thing. Since I've been head of Ml6, there's been a 40% drop in double-O casualties. I want it to stay that way. You'll carry the Walther. Unless you'd prefer to go back to standard intelligence duties?
Palmer: That's usually what happens when I get back from a mission, sir. Umm, M, is it? M, can I have a car loan? £800 should do it. I've met this smashing bird and I want to take her out to the pictures on Tuesday.
M: From now on you carry a different gun. Show him, armourer.
Palmer: Don't I have to fill in a T-105 to get one of those?
Armourer: Walther PPK. 7.65mm. Takes a Brausch silencer, with very little reduction in muzzle velocity. The American CIA swear by them.
Palmer: CIA? I bet their agents get cars on the firm. Now about that loan, sir. Chico reckons you gave him one, and he hasn't been risking life and limb like I have, sir.
M: Any final comments, armourer?
Armourer: Be careful with that Walther, 007. It has a delivery like a brick through a plate-glass window.
Palmer: A plate-glass window? I might only need to blow the bloody doors off...


ajb007/lol  ajb007/lol

This is brilliant. Makes me want to watch Harry Palmer now.

592

Re: Imaginary conversations

SpectreOfDefeat wrote:

Q’s Laboratory. 1964.


James Bond: It’s a dead duck.
Q looks pained.
Q: Well…yes…but it’s also a highly sophisticated stealth camouflage apparatus, derived from the latest experimental technology. From next year this will become standard issue for all NATO and allied services.
James Bond: I’m not putting a deceased bird on my head!  How about an Aston Martin, or a laser watch, or an exploding pen, perhaps? Anything!
Q: We don’t really go in for that kind of thing yet.
James Bond: I’ll be careful if I come under enemy fire…
Q: Really?
James Bond: Yes, I’ll have to duck!
Q: Oh, grow up, 007!

I like this  ajb007/lol especially the last two lines  ajb007/biggrin

593

Re: Imaginary conversations

1954. (Outside Bond’s flat in Chelsea. He draws up to the kerb in his Bentley, Solitaire at his side.)
Solitaire: Oh James, this looks so beautiful!
James: I’m glad you like it, my darling. Now, before we go in, you should know that I have a housekeeper, called May.
Solitaire: I hope she likes me.
James: She’s just a bit, shall we say, devoted.
(They go to the door and enter. May is standing in the hallway.)
May: Good afternoon, Mr James.
James: Nice to see you, May. This is Miss Solitaire.
May: (Voice reaching absolute zero in its chilliness.) Oh yes?
Solitaire: Hello, May.
May: The young lady will be sleeping in the spare room, over here.
James: And here I thought it was Solitaire who did the fortune-telling.



1956. (Bond’s flat. He awakes to hear arguing voices coming from the kitchen.)
May: He most certainly does not!
Tiffany: Oh yes he does!
May: I have been making breakfast for Mr James all these years and he always enjoys one very fresh, speckled brown egg boiled for three and a third minutes.
Tiffany: He is going to have Eggs Benedict with Bearnaise sauce which I shall make personally.
(Bond’s eyebrows raise in horror and he quietly gets up from the bed.)
May: He is not going to eat bairns’ food and slops and suchlike.
Tiffany: I will be deciding what James shall eat.
(Bond quickly gets dressed and opens the window.)
May: Och, ye think so!
Tiffany: I do think so.
May: We will see about this!
(May and Tiffany march into the bedroom, to find the curtains blowing at the open window.)



1957.  (Outside Bond’s flat in Chelsea. He draws smoothly up to the kerb in his Bentley, Tatiana Romanova at his side.)
Tatiana: Oh James, this is most kulturny!
James: But of course it is. I have to tell you now about my housekeeper May.
Tatiana: She is English, like you?
James: No, she is Scottish, like me. You may find her a bit...er… old-fashioned in her ways.
(They go to the door and enter. May is standing in the hallway.)
May: Good afternoon, Mr James.
James: Nice to see you, May. This is Tatiana
May: (Voice colder than liquid nitrogen.) Oh yes?
Tatiana: Very pleased to meet you.
May: May I take your luggage?
(Tatiana hands over one very small trousseau.)
May: And the rest?
Tatiana: The rest? (James quietly elbows her.) Oh, the rest will be arriving later.



1958. (Bond’s flat. He awakes to the sound of voices from outside his room.)
May: (Muffled scream.) Michty me, what have you got there?
Honey: It’s only a praying mantis, Miss May, isn’t she lovely?
May: Get that out of my house!
(Bond’s eyebrows raise in horror and he quietly gets up from the bed.)
Honey: Oh, but they are so beautiful and-
May: Get yon beastie out of my house this instant!!!
(Bond quickly gets dressed and opens the window.)
Honey: But May-
May: And ye can pick up that trail of snails that ye leave everywhere behind you!
Honey: They are shells, May, not snails.
May: Just you wait till I have a word wi-
(She opens the bedroom door to find the curtains blowing at the open window.)

594

Re: Imaginary conversations

Now we know why Bond's relationships don't last  ajb007/lol  ajb007/lol  ajb007/lol

595

Re: Imaginary conversations

These are great, Barbel   ajb007/smile  We need more please.

596

Re: Imaginary conversations

Brilliant as always, Barbel!  ajb007/lol  ajb007/lol  ajb007/lol

"How was your lamb?" "Skewered. One sympathises."

597

Re: Imaginary conversations

Much appreciated, folks.  ajb007/smile



1995. (The Royal Premiere of “Goldeneye”.)

(In the Royal limousine.)
The Duke: Another one of these bloody James Bond films! I thought they’d finished with all that.
The Queen: It has been a while, but one is glad they are continuing- they are very good for the British economy.
The Duke: If you say so. New chap playing James Bond this time, I hear.
The Queen: Yes, Philip, please be nicer to him than you were to the last one. Pretend you’ve heard of him.
The Duke: I will, I will.
The Queen: You saw him in a film called “Mrs Doubtfire”.
The Duke: Right, “Mrs Doubtfear”, got it, I remember that one. Will that Broccoli chap be there?
The Queen: No, he is not well. His children will welcome us.

(The Queen and the Duke emerge from their limousine.)
The Queen: Good evening.
MGW: Good evening, Your Majesty. My name is Michael Wilson, and this is my sister Barbara Broccoli.
The Queen: I hope your father’s health improves.
BB: Thank you, ma’am, he sends his best wishes. May I introduce you to our new James Bond, Mr Pierce Brosnan?
The Queen: Good evening.
Brosnan: Good evening, ma’am.
The Duke: I saw you in a film not long ago- about a man desperate to see his children. “Mrs Doubtfield” or something like that, I think.
Brosnan: Yes, Your Highness, I was in that.
The Duke: You were very convincing as a woman.
Brosnan: ….er, thank you, sir.

BB: Playing our villain is Mr Sean Bean.
The Queen: Ah, Mr Bean, you must tell me- you have a certain reputation.
Bean: Reputation, Your Majesty?
The Queen: It is said you die in most of your films- is this true?
Bean: Yes, I’m afraid that is quite true, ma’am. But I have the feeling that this will not continue through my career.
The Queen: And when do you die in this film?
Bean: About six minutes from the start. And again about six minutes from the end.
The Duke: That’s a good trick! How do you manage that?
Bean: You’ll have to see the film for that.

BB: May I present Miss Famke Janssen?
The Queen: Good evening, Miss Janssen. Which part do you play?
Famke: Xenia Onatopp, ma’am.
The Duke: My God, you’re tall! Are you on stilts there?
Famke: Er, no, sir.
The Duke: Onatopp, eh? I bet that’s the way you like to-
The Queen: Philip!

MGW: Next, we have Mr Robbie Coltrane.
The Queen: And who do you play, Mr Coltrane?
Coltrane: Valentin Zukovsky, Your Majesty, a Russian criminal.
The Queen: Do you think your character will return in the next James Bond film?
Coltrane: I do hope so, ma’am. I’ve always wanted to play a recurring character in a big movie series. That would be magic!

MGW: Next is Mr Michael Kitchen.
Kitchen: Good evening, Your Majesty.
The Queen: And which part do you play?
Kitchen: Bill Tanner, ma’am.
The Queen: Bill Tanner?
The Duke: Michael Kitchen?
(The Queen and the Duke look at each other, shake their heads, and shrug before moving along. Kitchen sighs.)

BB: Singing our title song is Miss Tina Turner.
The Queen: Good evening, Miss Turner.
Tina: Good evening, ma’am.
The Duke: Not brought Ike with you, then?
Tina: Er, no, sir. We’ve been divorced for nearly twenty years.
The Duke: ...ah….

BB: Shall we go in, now, ma’am?
The Queen: Yes, I think that might be best.

598

Re: Imaginary conversations

thanks Barbel and C&D for writing Bond/Palmer mash-ups, much appreciated.
Charmed yours was especially good because you captured Harry Palmer's voice!

599

Re: Imaginary conversations

You're welcome, caractacus.

600

Re: Imaginary conversations

2012. (Q’s flat. There is the sound of a key turning in the lock. Two cats run meowing to the door as he enters, carrying a paper grocery bag with a long loaf of bread protruding.)

Q: Hello, my darlings. (The two white cats rub themselves against his legs, loudly meowing.) Yes, I’ve missed you too, just let me put this down. (He puts the shopping down on a table.) Now, hello Tiddles, hello Snowy.
(He strokes the cats whilst reaching into the bag.)
Q: I’ve got something tasty for you both in here… look, a nice piece of fish each!
(He feeds the cats, still stroking them.)
Q: Now, time for tea.
(Humming to himself, he prepares a cup of Earl Grey tea.)
Q: And one more thing…
(He heads to his bedroom, emerging a few moments later in striped pyjamas covered with a Union Jack dressing gown, before settling comfortably down on his favourite chair, cup of tea in easy reach.)
Q: Ah… Now where’s my laptop? Oh yes.
(Q turns on his laptop and relaxes, sipping his tea while playing Angry Birds. After about half an hour, the telephone rings.)
Q: Oh, bother…...Hello?….Oh, it’s you again…. No, I’ve told you before…. Definitely not…. No, Herr Oberhauser, my two white cats are not for sale under any circumstances…. No, you can’t come around tonight, I’m just about to start work on a little pet project I’ve been dabbling with for some time.
(He puts the phone down and gets up, heading towards a desk in the corner of the room. On it there are various pieces of electrical machinery, wires, and so forth, surrounding a box-shaped gadget resembling a microwave oven but without a glass door in front. He works on this for a while, then...)

Q: Time to give it another test, I think. Let me just turn it on… now, if only I can make it so. Here we go.
(He addresses the box-shaped gadget directly.)
Q: Tea. Earl Grey, hot.
(The gadget hums and comes to life. A light starts to shine inside it, and from nowhere a glass containing a clear liquid appears.)
Q: Let’s just taste this… Argh, no! This isn't Earl Grey! It’s a vodka martini, shaken not stirred! Oh well, back to the drawing board.