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Oddjob looked wistfully to the horizon where an eye-patched high-roller in a white tuxedo was scheming to hold the world to ransom with two atomic warheads. Things had been like that with Auric once. Now it seemed all he wanted to do was fool around with Englishmen on golf courses. A tall, skinny man dressed all in black who was abstaining from the women and drink stood guard by the yacht's rail. He gave a slight smile and raised a glass of seltzer water to the caddy as if to toast their good fortune. Oddjob released a great sigh.
OddJob may have been a reasonable caddy, as a fencing judge he was no good at all, which resulted in an odd game indeed.
Suddenly Oddjob noticed a tiny kitten walking across the green.
Oddjob: “Uhn uhn.”
Hawker: “Okay, but we’re calling this at dusk.”
After several failed attempts at filming a Slazenger Eaglet putter commercial,
the producers decided to just go with straight product placement.
You must excuse me, gentlemen; not being English,
I sometimes find your sense of humor rather difficult to follow.
Oddjob: Uhn uhn uhn Fort Knox?
Goldfinger: Who cares about Fort Knox when you're having so much fun!
Bond: No, it's this way, Mr. Goldfinger.
Goldfinger: Thank you! After you.
Bond: No, after you.
Soon after, their lawyers confirmed the terms of their contracts
and Connery and Fröbe stopped trying to get fired by EON.
"Ah, but this isn t golf, Mr. Bond. This is goldf, and I make the rules."
Still another on-set fad of the 60s was stretching before the cameras rolled.
However much they practiced, Connery and Fröbe
failed to be cast in the 1960s television project The Three Musketeers,
losing out to Jeremy Brett and Brian Blessed in featured roles.
Years after their passing, the spirits of Connery and Fröbe
continued to relive old glories at Stokes Poges Golf Club.
Bip. Easy. Ya follow?
So they all settled in, anxiously waiting for the caption to show up.
While mattjoes (center) seemed concerned about the caption situation, @QBranch (left) and @Some_Kind_Of_Hero (right) appeared to look forward to the inevitable catastrophe that was about to unfold.
Not pictured: @RichardTheBruce taking a nap.
Ah, wouldn't that be a cap-tastrophe? (and yes, I can be remarkably cavalier in the face of disaster...it's a practiced art)
Auric: "Speaking of gold bars, Mr Bond - gold bars that are worth five thousand pound, as you say... Where did your caddy go?"
James: "Oh crap."
---
James: "It's a fine *club*, Goldfinger."
Auric: "Thank you, Mr Bond. As a matter of fact, I own the club."
James: "If one played golf regularly, then I expect *one would*."
Auric: "There is much more to it than the 1 wood, Mr Bond.
James: "Huh?"
Auric: "I own many other clubs as well: 2,3,4.. all the way up to 9. Not to mention the *wedges*."
James: "Now you're just bragging. So where are these wedges you speak of?"
Auric: "They are in my golf bag, where they belong."
James: "They're no good in there, Goldfinger - they'll go soggy!"
Auric: "Huh?"
James: "Just saying, bust 'em out!"
Auric: "My *driver* will take care of that, IF and when the time is necessary."
James: "Woah, that is no way to treat them!"
Auric: "My driver may be mute, but he has feelings, Mr Bond."
James: "Huh?"
Auric: "Not to mention he is still in training."
James: "And whaddya mean 'if' the time is necessary? Is there a chance you'll not be busting out any wedges?"
Auric: "Only if I get stuck in a *bunker*, Mr Bond."
James: "Ah, emergency rations. It all makes sense now."
Auric: "Huh?"
Sean found it amusing. Harold not so much.
At first OO7 expected decent competition from the golf match.
But Goldfinger was not one to take chances on the outcome.
And Bond failed to notice the voodoo doll in Goldfinger's golf bag--
a stunning likeness of OO7 himself, in Oddjob's deadly grip.