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Yes, I will retract that.
Chapter 13
UNNATURAL PARADISE
Bond continued dow the hallway of Dandies' base, and he found a winding staircase up to the top of a small tower observatory.... what would he find up there he thought, and that's where my little feet need to go.
At the top was a sircular small room with a radio, notebook, telescope, also a chair and some ancient astrology. It smelled of cigarettes and perfume. Ok fine, he strolled to the centre of the room and noticed the stone ceiling was retractable, to give Dandies A view of the stars at night. But as he entered further, he also notcied a breath taking vista viewpoint of the enclosed area behind the compound. And what he saw out that secret rear window blew his mind and surprised him to the hilt.
A lush green valley in the middle of the desert, with sprinkler ta-ta-tas all over the place, and so. many. bautiful. GIRLS! They were nude and covered from head to toe in sunscreen. Don't worry about it. Bouncy space helmets, birds in cages, beach balls. A glass dome filled with birthday cards. A moon buggy buzzing between each station, supervising hot desert yoga stretches. Inddeed, green lawns amongst sweaty desert dunescapes.
How obscene and artifical, thought Bond. An unnatural paradise, much like Dubai. Bond didnt like it when man imposed his own ideas of beauty on an untamed landscape. It was like a woman who plucked her eyebrows or wore 2 heavy makeup. But Bond could see that these sunny girls were all ala natural, and thsnk God for that.
He sat down in Dandies' chair and had a closer look at them through the telescope. So this was Operation Forbidden Fruit! But certinaly not the tour his host had intended. Bond simpered and smiled grinly in his chair. The sight on the telescope had a built-in electronic ID identifier and these were some of the names that popped up above the girls' heads: Tricky Day, Kiddie Goulderbore, Gay Abandon, Ample Bosom, Mia Culpa, Sunday Best, ....
But then suddenlt Bond felt a sharp blow on the back of his head, and all went black.
Bond came to.
The girls and lush green valleys were nowhere to be seen.
The hot Moroccan sun beat down upon him, and cruel winds blew sand in every direction.
Bond had been stripped naked, handcuffed, and dumped in the desert with a bag over his head.
He had been beaten, his body covered in bruises. He barely managed to his feet. Once he had stood, Bond heard the ignition and roar of his old Aston Martin speeding towards him.
It was barrelling towards him like a bullet. Was it Britney Birthday coming for a rescue?
The car was getting closer and closer by the second, but it wasn't slowing down.
There was no time to react. It slammed into Bond like a tonne of bricks.
Bond's body screamed as a deep giggle erupted from the DB5, and the driver spun around to do it again.
How's Bond getting out of this one friends??
Chapter 14
HOW TO ENSLAVE A BEE
Coming Soon
Place a honeybee in the freezer for 5 minutes, tie a string around it, and you've got yourself a pet bee.
Yours,
Be fair Draggers, even Faulkes didn't quite plumb the depths we are at in this thread.
But he came very close. I might even prefer NSF over DMC. But then again I might not.
Oh, NSF is much better!
Not really.
DMC on the face of it is better written and the one thing it does have going for it is it doesn't have a page long soliloquy from Bond about how fantastic Disneyland is or Bond constantly correcting everyone's English.
However on the downside it is like a Bond novel written by Mendes - I'm only surprised the DB5 doesn't feature.
The 'climax' is pitiful with the Ekranoplan - a vehicle beyond even Fleming's imagination - being just tossed away offscreen and then Bond winding up in the middle of Soviet Russia at the height of the Cold War just getting a train back home.
Both are unremittingly poor entries and serious contenders for worst ever Bond novel.
Well the Disney thing is a tough nut to crack I suppose.
NSF is already badly holed below the waterline by this stage but the Disney moment is the point you realise the water is coming over the watertight bulkheads and it's going down with all hands.
Really? Then he'd be perfect for a film adaptation of NSF!
Wow! What a shocking opener! :))
Chapter 14
DEATH BY DB5
This was it. He had had it.
Bond had no weapons, no backup. Nothing. His hands were tied. He was going to die.
The car hit him again. He faceplanted into the sand with a deep anguish of pain.
He wished he had retired a week ago now,married and settled down with Madeliene... But no, MI6 had gossiped with intense interest about how she was going to die and kickstart a revenge story in the Garden of Death. No, no, no, he didn't want that. And he knew if he didn't do something quick about the DB5, he was going to die alone in the desert by himself nevermind the Bond girl.
He wass lucky Q had coded all the DB5 gadgets to his signature buttprint, so no one else could use them.
....Ok man. Remember to breathe. you got this. One thing at a time.
The DB5 was hurtling towards him for another hit.
He sat up and tried to remove the sack from Bonds head, but the drawstring was too tight.
All he could hear the animal roar of the DB5 supercharger as it got closer and closer. He tried to get out of the way, but too late!-- the DB5 hit him square in the face, debunking his jaw and exploding his nipples into bright flowers of bruising. Bond shook his head to try to regain his balance as the car sped past. He wasn't sure if he could take another hit like that.
He had to remove the dammit sack from his head, before the car turned around and killed him again!
And yes it was hurtling around now, gearing up for another violent encounter. It was now or nothing!
In that instant a silly phrase from dead M popped into his head and came flooding back to him :
"Go and stick your head in the sand somewhere and think about your future."
He understood what she meant now. And if he didn't obey her orders this time he wouldn't HAVE a future!
Bond remembered his breakdancing days as a Scottish teen in London, he stuck his head into the sand and spun and spun until the sack had been removed, then He got up, dusted himself off, and rolled out of the way just in time to dodge the DB5. His eyes burnt from the shock of the sun, but he caught a glimpse of the driver. It was Afterthought! Bond should have known by the way he drove, the Slovak bastard.
I'm the man, Bond thought. He felt like such a loose canon boss for his crafty move, he tried to do some trusty judo badass alchemy on his handcuffs to break them with a single Bond move. But it didn't work. In fact it really hurt his wrists.
The DB5 howled with anger as Afterthought pushed a heavy foot down on the gas towards Bond.
Bond faked to the left, then dodged to the right, but a-HA! Afterthought read his every move and hit him dead on. Smartblood flew everywhere. The Slovak changed gears and spun the car around again, this time faster and with faster skill. Bond had fallen onto his knees, his figaroso olfactor shattered like an unwanted Christmas ornament. Afterthought slid the car into Bond's body with a thudding sideways swerve, but right before impact Bond flattened down, rolled along and grabbed onto the bottom of the car.
And Wind swept his face and Sand buffeted his eyes as he held on for dear life.
His hands were still tied togehter, sooowhat he gonna do now?
Wait.... But maybe he could get his handcuffs off by sparking them against the rear axelrod!
It was the gamble from Hell, but it was the only choice he had. He braced his legs against the chassey, held hthe cuffs up to the spinning rod, and sparks flewe in his face as Afterthought accelerated over the dunes of Morocco.
He would have to let the great behemoth of a car drag him for as many miles as it took to break the cuffs. His arms were starting to cramp, his feet were crying and he had a headache, his left elbow was itchy and there was no time to scratch. In that moment Bond knew every mild and inconsiderate discomfort of the beach. Sunburn, sand in his crack, ooh it's a lot.
And it was everything he could muster not to black out from the nasty desert rugburn beneath him.
Only a few minutes more, and he would be free. But could he last those last few minutes more??
The sandy desert blurred beneath him, his vision went dopey, and Bond began to black out....
Chapter 15
AFTERLIFE
Coming Soon
Bond knew his soon-to-be funeral would ahve to be scored by John Barry. :)
Well no one else is going to.
And I think the word you are flailing for is 'opus'.
No, I think he meant 'anus'.
Except it ending apparently.
Oh fie, Lord, fie!
Oh, can Bond go to Euro Disney again but this time really despise it? Please, please please!!! 'Twould please @TheWizardOfIce greatly.