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Friends of 007 - New Fanfiction 2018
I have for many months been devising a fanfiction and unfortunatley EON stole a lot of ideas that I wthough would never see the cold light of what. Such as and this is not exhaustive, the return of Blofeld, personality, SPECTRE, QUANTUM, Mr White, Bond running off to get married again, and why not combine Q and Moneypenny. Even the death of M featured hevily in my story although mine was when he had to go get alarms installed in Africa.
Without further a do here is THE LIPS OF AN ANGEL 2 (title subhest to change)
Once upon a time, there was a gunbarrel.
Chapter 1
KIND OF CRUEL
When you kill a man you do not talk to him during it. That is exactly what Bond felt like doing as he choked the last peice of breath out of the Mexican. How are the kids? It was like he looked into the man's eyes and could see a humanity he normally did not when it was just him and another man on the floor pounding away. He found himself in this situation a bit too often, at the end of a mission, legs spread and arms forward at the neck of someone who should die right now. Normally there was nothing. But right, right now, just this mometn, Carlos had a softness in his boys. His eyes were softening and it was as if the hardenend features were going backwards in time as Bond choked the life out of the man. He could see the boy behind the man, and suddenly Bond felt his own mortality, and the divide between life and death was a hard black line of mascara hiding the 007 signs of aging.
Bond took a deep breath, stole the mans wallet and placed a phone call.
"Hello M, happy halloween"
"Bond? I thought that you were handling candy at your chelsea flat?"
"Not this year. I emptired all my smart blood into the toilet (this is important later)
"Thats impossible, wait I just checked the smart blood files, why are you in Africa?"
"No time to explain. Lets just say, there's a naobob tree and it's got some forbidden branches. 007 out."
Moneypenny was Eve's dropping at the door. M cames bursting through the door and knocked her back onto her rear end.
"Just checking the carpet sir, you know don't mind me" she said. M grinned and poured himself a hot cup of water then soaked it in ginger and hot warm coffee in the tradition of Naval sailors sailing on the sea. His blue eyes glinted as he took a deep sip of the sludge and then he told Moneypenny all about what she already knew. "Bond is on the scent of something. He's infilitriated NAOBOB and is well on his way to earning his third stripe under my command. He hasn't even made it personal yet. I like it."
Moneypenny grinned so hard. "I know. It's time to call the cavalry."
"I call the shots around here Miss Moneypenny>"
"No I meant your annual local horse club they're wondering if you want to renew your mempership?"
M laughed. Of course not.
MEANWHIEL
Bond was undercover in Africa, on the scent of NAOBOB and closing in close. If only he had a connection. A clue. A piece of something to keep going. A ribbon. A quote in the mouth of a villain with nothing to lose but dignity. Only a week earlier he had dispatched of Blofeld for good by leaving him on a bridge in the middle of London. Madelene was gone when she noticed he wasn't ready for her love, and as it turns out he was quite bored of her. This is the risk a man takes when he drives off with a woman, the quantum of solace sometimes hits the ejector seat and when no candle is left to burn , nobody can pride or provide themeselves on their romantic intentions any longer and the dull buzz of death begins to hum again. What are you doing to do.
Bond made a right turn down the road of Africa and stopped for a break.
"Do you have a restroom?"
"Yes", he asked.
He found a videotape in there was an ancient flute and a few other items. But mostly he found relief in the seat of a toilet. To rest those hamstrings and thighs and such on something other than the vintage discomfort of his Aston Martin from his predecssor.
Bond zipped up and went back outside. What? Someone was speeding off with his car! The dammit bastard! A saxophone was being played by a beautiful girl in the passenger seat as the vehicle spun dust up the backroads of Africa towards the pitching black trees of a sunset. Bond called a taxi but by the time they got there he could not give chase. This never happened to me before Bond thought as he grinned. Kind of cruel. A woman to disguise herself as a sunset, blind Bond with her beauty.
A symphony of sax streamed into the night as Britney Birthday gave it her all into the wood wind.
"And now a desert song, stupid boy, for your head to make it better..."
She placed a call. "Special Relations speaking". She softly played three notes and disconnected the call.
She wailed on it. Who was she? Bond thought. He had a name, a face, and that haunting sound. Who was the driver? Get a look at the driver? Did you manage to see who was driving? No. No. Not at all. All there was, a girl and Bond thought I can think of worse things. He picked up the videotape and brought it back to MI6 to put it on Q's home theater system for analysis.
"Hello Q"
"What do you want Bond? A sippy cup?"
"Does it do anything?"
"It tells the time"
Chapter 2
FACEBREAKER
Coming Soon
"First I will break bread with you. Then I will break bad news. Third time I will break your face."
Without further a do here is THE LIPS OF AN ANGEL 2 (title subhest to change)
Once upon a time, there was a gunbarrel.
Chapter 1
KIND OF CRUEL
When you kill a man you do not talk to him during it. That is exactly what Bond felt like doing as he choked the last peice of breath out of the Mexican. How are the kids? It was like he looked into the man's eyes and could see a humanity he normally did not when it was just him and another man on the floor pounding away. He found himself in this situation a bit too often, at the end of a mission, legs spread and arms forward at the neck of someone who should die right now. Normally there was nothing. But right, right now, just this mometn, Carlos had a softness in his boys. His eyes were softening and it was as if the hardenend features were going backwards in time as Bond choked the life out of the man. He could see the boy behind the man, and suddenly Bond felt his own mortality, and the divide between life and death was a hard black line of mascara hiding the 007 signs of aging.
Bond took a deep breath, stole the mans wallet and placed a phone call.
"Hello M, happy halloween"
"Bond? I thought that you were handling candy at your chelsea flat?"
"Not this year. I emptired all my smart blood into the toilet (this is important later)
"Thats impossible, wait I just checked the smart blood files, why are you in Africa?"
"No time to explain. Lets just say, there's a naobob tree and it's got some forbidden branches. 007 out."
Moneypenny was Eve's dropping at the door. M cames bursting through the door and knocked her back onto her rear end.
"Just checking the carpet sir, you know don't mind me" she said. M grinned and poured himself a hot cup of water then soaked it in ginger and hot warm coffee in the tradition of Naval sailors sailing on the sea. His blue eyes glinted as he took a deep sip of the sludge and then he told Moneypenny all about what she already knew. "Bond is on the scent of something. He's infilitriated NAOBOB and is well on his way to earning his third stripe under my command. He hasn't even made it personal yet. I like it."
Moneypenny grinned so hard. "I know. It's time to call the cavalry."
"I call the shots around here Miss Moneypenny>"
"No I meant your annual local horse club they're wondering if you want to renew your mempership?"
M laughed. Of course not.
MEANWHIEL
Bond was undercover in Africa, on the scent of NAOBOB and closing in close. If only he had a connection. A clue. A piece of something to keep going. A ribbon. A quote in the mouth of a villain with nothing to lose but dignity. Only a week earlier he had dispatched of Blofeld for good by leaving him on a bridge in the middle of London. Madelene was gone when she noticed he wasn't ready for her love, and as it turns out he was quite bored of her. This is the risk a man takes when he drives off with a woman, the quantum of solace sometimes hits the ejector seat and when no candle is left to burn , nobody can pride or provide themeselves on their romantic intentions any longer and the dull buzz of death begins to hum again. What are you doing to do.
Bond made a right turn down the road of Africa and stopped for a break.
"Do you have a restroom?"
"Yes", he asked.
He found a videotape in there was an ancient flute and a few other items. But mostly he found relief in the seat of a toilet. To rest those hamstrings and thighs and such on something other than the vintage discomfort of his Aston Martin from his predecssor.
Bond zipped up and went back outside. What? Someone was speeding off with his car! The dammit bastard! A saxophone was being played by a beautiful girl in the passenger seat as the vehicle spun dust up the backroads of Africa towards the pitching black trees of a sunset. Bond called a taxi but by the time they got there he could not give chase. This never happened to me before Bond thought as he grinned. Kind of cruel. A woman to disguise herself as a sunset, blind Bond with her beauty.
A symphony of sax streamed into the night as Britney Birthday gave it her all into the wood wind.
"And now a desert song, stupid boy, for your head to make it better..."
She placed a call. "Special Relations speaking". She softly played three notes and disconnected the call.
She wailed on it. Who was she? Bond thought. He had a name, a face, and that haunting sound. Who was the driver? Get a look at the driver? Did you manage to see who was driving? No. No. Not at all. All there was, a girl and Bond thought I can think of worse things. He picked up the videotape and brought it back to MI6 to put it on Q's home theater system for analysis.
"Hello Q"
"What do you want Bond? A sippy cup?"
"Does it do anything?"
"It tells the time"
Chapter 2
FACEBREAKER
Coming Soon
"First I will break bread with you. Then I will break bad news. Third time I will break your face."
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Chapter 2
THE MAN IN THE SCARF
There was nevera grater time in the life of a Quartermaster then when his darling 00s came a knocking. All the years, the seconds, the days spent cooking up the fanciest gagfetrs, the biggest surprises, cooking dinner with heated lasers so he could continue his work through the night. And finally that hollowed moment, when Bond or whoever would come down those stairs with the sparkle of a kid on Christmas Eve and leave with a silver tray of gadgets and goodies and trinkets and follies.
Q then remembered he had a mortage, and all was brought back snappning into reality. Bond stood there holding a sippy cup. "Hello Q I have a VHS tape for you let's put it in and find out why. Oh we have to rewind it ok........ what's this......... dead M wants another mission from me. What do you think Q I've alread y done so much for her and besides I have a new boss." Bond grinned and held up his sippy cup and winked at Q.
8 O CLOCK
Q showed up at Bond's flat and immedeiately he had soemthing to say.
"Bond why does it smell funny in your flat?"
"I haven't done the dishes in a while."
"Well that explains it. I have finsished decrypting the VHS you found in Africa. It was really a secret scrambled message from NAOBOB using surveillance audio they had recorded from a scarf worn by Judy Dench on various trips she made into the field to tell you whats to do."
"I remember that scarf, wasn't it given to her by Sam Dandies?"
"Yes --7, the one and only. This can only mean one thing."
Bond invited Q to lay on his bed together and opened the file. Get comfy it's a long one.
SAM DANDIES
Leisure Sector
Various criminal stations throughout Europe and the Antilles. Has shot many pornographic films and smuggled them into seashells and also he dabbles in coffee beans, hence NAOBOB. Currently unkown. Hes a very nice guy but he likes fashion and it shows. Never seen without his blood red scarf and he even gave one with diamond crusted bling to Judy Dench once. He has three nipples, yellow eyes and a limp. His favorite song is Atomic (by Blondie) and you will hear it at every fashion show he hosts. What's secret about him is that trafficks women and you need to kill him Bond.
Q snapped the folder shut and started a pillow fight with Bond. They were basically best friends but nothing more. But then, Bond had a flashback to choking Carlos the Mexican and he had to withdraw, "Bond what's wrong it's just a bit of fun?"
"I know Q there's just something haunting me.......... life and death and aging and I need to get a life."
"Do you think so Bond. I know you will meet the right person to keep you swept away and put it right.
"Thanks Q I really like it when you say that. Now what other gadgets do you have for me?"
Q giggled. "I installed the rest of them into your bed. Good luck 007."
Bond showed Q out. He put his gun under the pillow and as he fell asleep, the peach colored moon glistened in the room and Bond maybe thought to himself "This had better not be my brother again." Withan a minute he was asleep. No regret. And there was nothing between him and Q.
Chapter 3
EBERT EXPERT HANDS
Coming Soon- A bastard extradonaire.
Also love how it is constructed as a feuilleton. Very Playboy.
Stop it you're cracking me up!!
Anyway Iguanna I literally can wait for the next chapter.
Chapter 3
SPECIAL RELATIONS
A dark scrawl of rain sat in the sky like a text messsage you never send. At times in life you sit back and sip on heavy thoughts like a bad bourbon chase it with lots of ice. Morbid thoughts and dark 00s fill the mind and wash down the gutter to take revenge another day. But such is the beast of life you plan your day and make an enemy or an enemy's friend to hold tight for future use. What one must never do is when he obtains access to a man, an organtiztion, something useful, he cannot just seize upon it and ask it favours, call it forth and make a scene just because he can, just for the sake of it. When one plays his hand he must play it with intent and purpose, otherwise you cheat yourself out of the best this life has to offer and then cheapen every other hand at the table as well. Its' a revolving door thing. Or to put it in 00 turms, a revolver chamber and only one bullet is shiny so make it count.
Moneypenny tweeted a photo of a puddle and continued her morning walk.
"Hello Q? Why are you phoning me?" she said.
"I'm on my way to work Moneypenny but a moon buggy just ran me over and I'm almost dead."
"Oh is the buggy spilling coffee beans everywhere? .........NAOBOB"
Bond's big red cellphone rang. This is the one that meant business. He quickly shaved, showered, practiced in his mirror some and went down to Central and Grand to see if Q was okay. He gingerly helped Q out from under the moon buggy, dusted the coffee beans off him and they sat down on top of a bench to talk about it.
"Hello Q, this is clearly the work of NAOBOB and Sam Dandies. Did you get a lead last night?"
"No 007 but remember that ancient flute you gave me from the Bathroom in Africa?"
"yes"
"Ive been playing Hot Cross Buns and God Save the Queen on it."
"Wait Q were you playing those tunes on the way to work?"
"Yes of course, why?"
"My God...." Bond knew what this meant. "They're using musical homing technoogly, that's how the moon buggy found you." Bond's mind was working overtime. "It will be a moon buggy attack tomorrow night at the Royal Academy if those same tunes are played by anyone in the orchestra tomorrow night. And Sam Dandies is going to be there. I have a brochure about the performance and two tickets, would you like to be my date Q?"
"No thank you Bond I have plans."
Bond had never having his balls beat with a carpet iron, been more toruted in his life. He held back tears.
Anyhow the Aston Martin DB5 was all that matter to Bond. It haunted his sleep, who was it ejecting right now? The last he saw of it the beautiful Brittany Birthday had her legs on the dash with a nose like a princess and shocking blonde hair. And then the car was gone at the sight of a sunset. Where is it now? Inside a plane? Being melted down inside another continent? Bond shuddered at the thought and shrugged to relief that thought. A long comma of hair gave him pause, as he noticed his reflection. It was that time of day again for a haircut.
Bond logged onto Google and this is what he saw:
SPECIAL RELATIONS
"Let's Make It Better"
Hello, Special Relations is a friendly and competitvve adminsteration formed for the better of young women and men and now, as we are proud to announce, the 00 Program. We have fields all across the world to invite people who need help with it. Please take your time broqsing every section of this site and don't forget to enable cookies! NOW ABSORBING THE 00 PROGRAM - APPLY TODAY AND DON'T BE LEFT BEGIND.
Hm! thought Bond. The absorption was already under full swing by all manner of speaking, as the 00 Section had been renamed to the softer, gentler, dry and gay 00 Program. Another step toward oblivion, Bond thought. And there was no Hard Man and Soft Man anymore, only Soft Man. He went through some old photos of himself as a kid, and then he did up his bathrobe and went to bed.
Hell to pay tomorrow night and no date to go with it. Moneypenny would only shoot him again and Tanner is useless. Bond grinned to his face and fell into a hard taciturn mask as sleep took hold of his secret service body.
THE END
of
CHAPTER 3
but
JAMES BOND WILL ETUREUNTE
in
CHAPTER 4
Obedient Dusk
"Night divides the day up where we live our life. Each day a dimly lit cubicle... but not for Bond."
It will be controversial around here to mention the DB5, though. Before you know it, the whole thread will revolve around it.
Any chance Bond will be grilling in this story?
"Densley plotted and thickly characterized... I was on the edge". :)
This next chapter is long and dastardly so grab a snack and get ready.
Chapter 4
MARS AND URANUS
"The Royal Academy is palying a performance of The Planets by Holst, and Dandies is going to be there."
"That explains it. I want you on vinocular control. Make all the pictures you can and report back to me."
"OK"
Bond arrived at the Academy climbed out and inserted his face into the hall to see what woudl happen. He must find any threat in the crowd of bandgoers and hornblowers, to solo them out and identify them, listen for any hint of those moon buggy tunes. At the back of his mind he hoped he woud see the alluring Brittany Birthday once more too, with her saxophone in all the right spots.
Not enough of a minute after seating himself amongst the richest and the finest, Bond noticed a man with a flaming red hair and blood colored scarf a few seats ahead of him. A big burly man with moles all over the back of his neck was seated on either side of the red man and at first Bond thought he was seeing two big mantwins but upon insepction he noticed that the mole man was so large, so big, that he occupied a seat on either side of the red man simply by straddling and stretching. Holy crap thought Bond. So this was his man, the purveyor of all things sinsiter, dabbler extradonaire in crimes and coffee beans, the head of NAOBOB. And his Slovakian bodyguard, Bond thought. Only Slovakians have such strong moles in such loose places.
Bond dismayed that no one accomapnied him to read the brochure on tonight's performance. Some of the words were just too much. For instance, what is a trobmone? This connects with a very dark secret Bond was keeping from his friends. All things come to pass but lets just say this may just bite him one day very soon. But not tonight. Tonight was just Bond and the music. And his duty to stop the moon buggys and maybe even kill Dandies but lets not get ahead of ourselves.
The lights dimmed and everyone opened up their candy food.
"The Planets by Holst everyone! Take it in and make it yours! It's a revloving riddle and it goes all the way to just knock you away! Please note that tonights performance is sponsored by Special Relations - let's make it better. Thank you, quit eating, and enjoy the show"
And The sweet orchestra came to with an ancient techno beat beneath.
Bond spyed his way through the musicall programme, eyeing Dandies up and trying to get a read on him. But the man was so stock still so completely straddled by his bodyguard that it was impossbile to understand a thing about him he was impenetrable. Does he like music? Did he bring candy? Bond teased every thought into a grand pursuit to make it work before he wrapped his hands around a throat. If only he could get every person to leave the room, and get that damn scarf off Dandie's neck.
Bond was acting like a damn fool. He had barely met the back of the man's head and already he was thinking of murder. What was happenning to him? All those years of being told hes a paid assasson and nothing else was slowly taking it's toll. It used to be that the 00 to kill people just made his stories exciting, but now it's all he had left. Everybody thought so and now it was almost true. Why did never he want to bring life to someone's eyes, instead of death? These morbid thoughts were so overdone they evaportated the moment Bond noticed something odd going on in the crowd.
Funny little men raising their hands during each movement. Seven movements of death.... lots of hands during Mars and Venus, a few less for Mercury, Jupiter was a dance number so hard to tell there, and then Saturn of the Old Age which Bond could related to.
But finally that fateful moment during Uranus the Magician when Sam Dandies himself raised a hand.
It was fruitful, dainty, dangerous, descending and evil, all so suitable to the man in the scarf.
Bond sgiggled to himself at the thought. Purchasing planets during a bouncy performance, placing hands to bid on interglactic properties, only the dastard bastards at NAOBOB would do such a thing. Bond took out photos of each bidder's backside of their heads and crossed his hands it would be enough. Google Image works wonders sometimes and besides that he had to give something to Tanner to do.
And now it was the final piece, Neptune. A group of ladies parasailed from the ceiling in theatric fashion, white gowns flowing, and they began to sing.
A beautiful treatment, but whats this? Bond touched his binoculars hard and looked very close.
Britney Birthday, girl in the saxophone!
She took it out and broke blasting sax into the room to compliment the Neptune movement of the night.
Bond's hand fingered his Walther PPK in anticipation of a sour note Hot Cross Buns or God Save the Queen that would summon the moon buggy. He sat and he stared and her intense beauty was hard not to see as cheeks went red into the woodwind. Bond would have a hard time nailing her in the head with a bullet if it came to that so perhaps just a shot down the tube of her instrument as warning to stop being a silly girl, or perhaps he could shout down the balcony that he ran out of bullets. Either way this orchestra, this concert, these overstuffed fancies would be safe from harm. Dandies and his covort Birthday would not get their way.
And then it was over. No sour note, no moon buggy, just rock solid desert sex.
The lights went up and Bond wondered what his next move would be. Every music taster in the hall was filing out quietly.
But then Bond felt large mole arms behind him lift him up and crumple him down in front of Sam Dandies a few rows ahead. What fresh hell is this what now? The Slovakian vodyguard was so forceful that Bond was crumpled into a lotus position on the floor. Dandies unloosened his scarf and laid the end of it over Bond's shoulder.
He leaned forward and examiend Bond's face. The golden yellow eyes blinkled and twinked.
"Hello James."
Bond was silent and quiet. Dandies placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Every girl in that Neptune chorus is under my employment. I'm proud of that."
Bond grumpled his mouth slightly and said, "I'm sure you are."
"I'm a respected man James step on my toes I will break your face."
"How do you do?" the large moleman said with a voice of iron throat filings.
Dandies grinned. "This is my right handed man Afterthought."
Bond was not behooved. Dandies withdrew the red scarf from his shoulder.
"I have some other men to enjoy tonight James, see you," Dandies said with a flap and a babble.
Bond rose to his feet. "I thought I saw a naobob on your shoulder."
"What you say"
"An Ancient African color... But it's only a glinting granting glance of gold string in your neckscarf."
Dandies' flaming red hair blew in the wind. "Don't ever speak about my clothes again, James... All my life I have been fascinated with fashioin. Just for instance, to get up close and touch a bit, the textures and a smell, it says so much. And all too often not enough. But I can see with you James, that its all dark blue cotton and scrambled egg breath." He giggled. "But nevermind that James. We have so much to talk about."
"Why are you calling me James", Bond said with a side eye.
"You'll find out later" Dandies said with a wink. "See you soon James,"
He tied a racing knot in his scarf and sped off towards the horizon.
Bond went to the bathroom and went to bed, pillo pistol full of load.
Chapter 5
INSTAGATOR
Coming Soon
Bond had a secre again, keeps you full of edge... so make room for it.
Will NAOBOB be a recurring enemy? Sure hope so. They are up there with SMERSH and SPECTRE.
Those pesky Slovakians...Bond is in deep shit now. I actually fear for his life.
Chapter 5
FROM M TO N
The Greenwich and Chelsea flats are some of the finest in London, despite their bourgouis affrontiere and the le'ecclecaite carelessnes of passersby on the street below. And, were it not for the noise, they would be some of the finest flats in the world. Bond looked like a cold hard killer before his blakc morning cup of coffee, served to him by his beautiful Scottish maids April May and June. After that the cruel face was washed away and he could finally go out in public without scaring the United Kingdom's.
Bond practiced some gun play in his underwear and the walked down to MI6 to fool around out the office and see what maybe was doing with his paperwork to pretend to care. He never did his paperwork. After a breif chat with Lolea Poncenby he was buzzed on down to M's office and on he went. Funny there was a note on Moneypeny's desk saying "I am taking care of some personal business and dont have time to flirt ok?"
"Hello Bond," M shouted as his secret agent toddled through the big red door and sat down in front of the big red phone and M's pipe and sailor photos. Today there was an anger in his big blue boys, and Bond immediatelly knew he was in for it. He filled his piping to smoke and shuffled some papers around. Finally he looked up and regarded Bond.
"A licence to kill is not a licence to kill animals 007."
"Thank you for asking Sir but what do you mean?"
"You know what I mean Bond,"
"I did nothing of the sort."
"You shot a wallaby and through him off a roof."
"It was just a coindence I was taking some vaction hours."
M dismantled an old sailor painting and broke it in half on the desk. "Dammit bastard I want the truth! From now on no more lies you have a licence to kill not a licence to be difficult. I'm your boss for Chrissakes. Only last week you stopped by Q's place to threaten his cats. Stop running around thretening the pets of MI6 staff in exchenge for secret favors. We need to be a team player. If I had a departmant store you would be fired on the spot. All this government buracreacy makes it so hard to fire you that I will simply send you on a mission to get you out of my hair with your lies and your loyalty to dead M and her ancient VHS messages."
Bond grinned. "But sir sometimes the old ways are best,"
"Finally we agree on something. Now go get your smart blood refreshed and off you go. I don't know where Moneypenny is but she had an important errand involving her childhood. Frankly concernad and all told 007 I am more worried about your childhood than anyone elses, I mean Blofeld the brother of your summer? He's caused so much trouble over the last twelve years that I have trouble even looking you in the eye for all your ski skills and huntsmanship that caused a young man to strap on madness and avalance his own father to death and then start a criminal organizaoitin. Bond you have a lott to answer for. So I need you out of my sight. Go and stick your head in Morocco and tell me what you see."
"What's in Morocoo?"
"A smoldering compound of Blofeld's drill room, meteor room, tv room, and maybe more. Check it out. And dammit Bond, if one more childhood twist comes back to bite this I will bite you myself and chew chew swallow. Watch out I mean it. No gadgets this time just get your blood smarted and off you go."
"Yes sir. Right away sir..." Bond staring at the ceiling the whole time and went through four cigarettes. His heart was with dead M and no one else. Also to get the car back. Retirement. Britney Birthday... Bond grinned grimly to himself and cartwheeld out of the room.
"One more thing James."
Bond's ear tickled. M just used his Christian name so that he says next will cut deep.
"I have assigned a new agent to keep your animal rights in check. Meet N."
N stood in the doorway like a full bodied woman. "Heyooo 007," she screamed. "N stands for Enjoy."
"I dont doubt it," Bond whispered. A thorughly modern girl with glasses and a curve of hip, firm taut breasts and fill in the rest. Bond thought ok, not so bad. No more shooting dogs if it meant pleasing this girl. Bond asked, "Will you be accompanying me to Morocco? I do hope so."
"No but don't be surprised if I do. I'm unexpected like that."
Hm thought Bond. Damn she full of surprises already. Bond heard a cowbell play the Bond theme in his head as he sweated like a schoolboy at his first try. Never before did a woman stand in M's doorway and make the leather door look so sveltz. It clearly sooted her. She produced a sanity wipe from her backpocket and wiped the door down like a big old germaphobe.
"Don't even think about it James that's my daughter," M yelled as he broke another painting.
Bond was not disavowed. "Cool, Alright guys see you later."
He donated smartblood to the Red Cross to throw M off the scent then jetted off to Morocoo.
Bad stuff was going to happen there, and even his flight attendant said so. Bond knew it.
Chapter 6
DEEP FLOWER NINA
Coming Soon
Bond had fallen over the daughters of other fathers before, but never before quite like this.
Is this inspired by Dr No?
NAOBOB is a recurring eternal enemy and here is the title sequence. :)
THIS TIME, BOND IS BACK !
Chapter 6
BILLION DOLLAR TINGLES
James Bond sat on a seat on a plane and looked out a window at a sky and drank his bourbon on the rocks and relfected on his mission. Why was New M sending him back on the scent of the Blofeld? What was there to see in Morocco? None of this had been properly addressed but at least Bond had a cold drink first class and maybe the lovely N hiding on the plane somewhere to track him around. Bond briefly considered going rogue again so that he might continue his hunt for the elusive Sam Dandies and what NAOBOB was up to exactly. Bond knew it must have involved coffee beans, space planets, fashion shows, pornography, and directors cuts. But whose directors cut of the film was this anyhow? It must have been that old monument M's cut. He was editing Bond's life with complete directoral control and he even brought in his own scriptwriter. Had it not been for trust issues maybe Bond could know what page of the script he was on. At least he could still ad lib his was through life until the director screams cut and the film ends forevver.
Bond gargled the rest of his bourbon, spat it out the window and stuck an icecube down his pants.
God it's hot in here, thought Bond. A beautiufl lady threw a packet of peanuts down Bond's throat as he stepped off the plane and into the heat of the desert. "Hello Delta Pan Am Airlines we have arrived at your destination. Get out."
"Hello" said Bond to the empty desert as the plane took off and left him there.
That empty patch of godforsaken desert where only days before he had blown up such a bad plan.
He lit a triple-band cigarette and got his eyes out to have a look at the wreckage of Blofeld's empty summertime base. Erected there was a sign: 'NO GIRLS ALLOWED.' Hm! thought Bond. What in the hell did that mean and how did it survive the blast?
Off in the distance he could see a beautiful line of light on the horizzon. White light scooped and shaped like a white horse. A woman riding the horse across the desert towards him. And playing a saxophone. Britney Birthday! She hoofed it up to Bond and circled around him, creating a circle of sound that shook the sand and made hands sweat. A big black helicopter creatively landed nearby and somebody shouted from the speaker "Don't you dare move it James!"
Bond didn't know what to do, he produced a turban on his head in high hopes it would disguise himself but no. Sam Dandies saw right through it.
"I wear a scarf for a living James don't think your little picnic cloth will fool me," he said.
"Somehow I knew we would meet again Dandies," Bond said through gritty teeth.
"Second time is pleasantries, third time an atomic tickle machine," Dandies sneered with a fitz.
Bond suddenly remembered the icecube he had stashed in his pants earlier. He took it out and tossed it into the blow end of the saxophone, causing Britney Birthday to choke and fall off her horse. Then he threw a bunch of sand at Dandies.
"Very impressive James. Now let me tell you about my ideas. Underbeneath us buried in the sand is four kilo tonnes of explosive. You see that chopper over there? That's my film crew. You will witness the largest explosion ever put to film. It will sever Morocco from the rest of Africa and carve me my very own private island. Now you have a decision to make. You can either be a part of this explosion, or you can BE A PART OF THIS EXPLOSION. Do you understand me ?"
Unofortanunltly Bond did. He had a decision to make. Billion dollar tingles....
The white horse screamed and circled like a demented fly as death drew near and nearer.
"Damn you Dandies damnit Dandies damn you damn you damn you Dandies damnit Dandies..."
Chapter 7
BIRTHMARK
Coming Soon
Bond had no idea what wicked games would be suffering his story necst. "The bottom's disentegrating!" yelled Felix through the chaotic aurora.
Bond gargled the rest of his bourbon, spat it out the window and put an icecube down his pants.
Like something straight out of Fleming.
Very entertaining story. :)
Oh very good!
AN ASTON LIMOUSINE
Damn you Dandies Damnit Dandies....
A screaming horse and a sweaty staredown, all the time that it happened to make it forever and now for a lot of time when it happens. Death floated in every particle of sand and shuddered in the air at what might happen.
Bond dug a hole into the sand, ducked down, got his phone out and logged onto instagram. Whatever happens next, his location will be known to headquarters.
"Just teasing James don't black out, we have so much more to do together", Dandies said.
Yeah right Bond thought. He composed his Instagram to M:
HELLO M STOP THIS IS BOND STOP EYE HAVE IT ALL FIGURED OUT NOW
It was a lie, a terrible one, But it would get M's attention at the very least,
It was too bad Bond had his gun taken away on the plane here. Q was too busy cooking his mircowave sholder holsters and zappy little sippy cups to be of any real use to get his gun clearred through customs. Damn it all Bond thought. Damn Q and his silly hairdo, those thick dreamy glasses........
Sam Dandies took a quick thirty paces across the desert towards Bond.
"Get out of that hole James and make your decision."
"I will cooperate as fully as I can to the extent of possible," Bond said. "Just dammit don't blow up Africa."
Dandies grinned. "That's a good boy. Now Let's take a drive." Bond heard the screaching of tyres in the distance and his stomach turned at what he saw next. It was his Aston Martian DB5, it had been turned into a limousine- a dark chunky section in the middle of his once proud grey metalship gun tank of deluxury and whatnot like an unwanted heart transplant.
A large man was shirtless at the wheel, and Bond immediately recognized the driver as Afterthought, Dandies' henchman from the few nights before.
Dandies dropped his fork and waved edgily toward the vehicle as Afterthought spun donuts in the desert and twisted sand in the air. Damnit, would be satisfying to end the Slovak's life Bond thought. There would be no remorse, no softness, no how are you.
"Stop driving my car please,' Bond said.
"This isn't you car anymore James", Dandies said. "Alright Afterthought, quit stunting and let us get in."
Afterthought pulled up beside Bond and he was stark naked in the driver's seat. "Far backseat if you please."
Bond obeyed.
He was about to be taken into the belly of the beast, where he coud plant some dynamite of hsi own.
Dandies wrapped his big black helicopter in plastic wrap and buried it in the sand, then climbed into the passenger seat of Bond's car. The first thing Bond noticed when Dandies entered the car was that he wore a woman's perfume. He shoveled a pre prepared cup of yogurt with dabbles of honey into his mouth.
"And of course for you James, my billion dollar detonation will be postponed... for now."
The car lurched forward and he and Bond were driven through the Applebapple Mountains by Afterthought in Bond's Aston Maritn DB5.
It was the first time Bond had seen Dandies in side profile, and he resembled an unbred leopard with a slopish nose and dark eyes that saww everything. His face had been liberally moisturized, and specks of sand clung to his cheeks, providing more color than he would have had otherwise. The thin pale lips barely happpend.
He was genetically inferiror and he knew it! This was a man who had been bullied all his life for being ugly. He would take great pleasure in wrapping himself in pretty clothes and spitting venom from beneath his buckteeth. And that gold-threaded scarf, a sign of decadence or repressed hotosexual tendencies.
Dandies' eyes slid backward to meet Bond's at the back of the car.
"I'm so glad you made the right choice James."
"Smart for you maybe, " Bond said.
"I apologize for acting crude earlier," he whispered through his scarf. "Men like you and me, we sometime have to act like sadistic broots to make our intentions nown."
The Aston hit a bump in the road as Afterthought manhandled it through it's paces. He drove roughly, with no regard for the car's feelings or well-beings. This was a man who knew no subtlety, who knew only how to be brutal. And he was being paid well for it .
Bond leaned forward and said "If you could not sweat on the upholstery thanks".
Dandies laughed and lit a cigarette. "Afterthought does not sweat. He comes from a remote Slovak mountain so cold that his people have no use for such functions. He is bone dry. And I must warn you, in movement he has the physical vitality and essentiality of a bare bones skeleton. An economy of movement that is so profound it will embarrass even the craftiest bubble bone agent. I suggest you very strongly you do not provoke him, or he will strip you down to the bone so that you may join him."
Bond showed no reaction to the bravado. Instead he produced a ciggarette of his own and began to hatch a plan.
Dandies rolled his window down and let his scarf flap in the wind. Bond reflected that only the most dastard men would wear a scarf in the heat of the desert like this. Any man who cheats at cards or wears a scarf in the desert is a dastard bastard, an evil man who must die. If only Bond wasnt' at the very bakc of the silver limosuine...
Blackbirds twinkled a harmony through the stony chamberss of the Appelbapp mountains as Bond and Dandies rode along a twisting serpentine road to a capped white dome in the middle of it nowhere that seemed to say, who cares, its' only fashion. Bond filled inside with dread as he thought what was to come next.
Chapter 8
DINNER WITH THE DEVIL
Coming Soon
Fork on the left, FORK LEFT FOR HELL !
Chapter 8
'BIG MOUNTAINS HAVE LITTLE MOUNTAINS...'
The rode ahead seemed to disappaear as Dandies and Bond were driven deeper toward the coast. Up ahead Bond could see a dome with two black doorways like a dead skull buried in the sand. And then suddenly the windows of the Aston tinted so that he could no longer see out of them. Bond murmured to himself at the new functions that must have been souped up to his car. A most secret arrival with very little more to possibly report to his superirors. Dandies had prepared for this and had thought of everything. The hot desert thrashing, rough gear changes and ice cold champagne in the doors to totally destroy and make his what wasn't his.
"My Observatory will make a fine vantage point for which we might view the largest explosion ever filmed. My set designer, my hairdresser, my lighting crew have all been assembled out there" - Dandies threw his hand out the window - "and cameras arranged. It's actually totally believable now, and as we drive further and further away from my futuresight there is less and less you can do about it."
Bond smiled. "But I don't want to do anything about it,"
"Pcha!" Dandies indignant. "We will see. I have ways of testing that."
Afterthought spun the car 383 degress it came to a sandy stop at the front entrance. "We are now three miles from where I shall carve a fresh faultline in Africa and create me my new coastal beaches visa dynamite ala mode. But enough about that. All men who wish to join me must enter through the left door. When you leave through the right door, you will be changed but I hope you like it. First we will see if you can sit down to a nice dinner and behave like a man."
And out of the car they got and into the dome they went.
Afterthought brought Bond and Dandies down a long-ass hallway. Stonite gargoyles paved each wall, splitting their tongues forward with gossipy eyes, and they would be grotesk, decadent, unnecessary, were it not for one addition: all of them were adorned by a sparkling scarf round their cold stone necks. It made them obscene, even attrocious. An ancient tune by Debussy played on the soundsystem. Between each tune Bond could hear a little radio ad: "Special Relations make it better."
They past a fireplace that burnt neatly and brightly, and Bond could only barely make out the names on the black stockings that hung above it. His stomach danced when he saw them, in no particuler order: Judy Dench, James, Moneypenny, Britney Birthday. And the only stocking packed with goodies was Moneypenny's.
Man this guy has too much going on Bond thought.
"Christmas is around a corner James you can never be too careful," Dandies offered.
Bond made no comment. He would not splay his legs or show any sign of emotional confusion. He would take it all at a stride, and since Dandies seemed to want more of him than a simple corpse, he would get in bed with the beast- the better to learn his secrets and tickle him to death.
Afterthought strolled over to the stockings, his naked body hard in the firelight. He removed Bond's stocking, placed it on his head, and whistled ancient Debussy tunes.
Dandies grinned, "Do you know anything about the North Pole James?"
"No."
"Shame," Dandies blathered as they contiued their walk.
Hm! thought Bond.
Btw Dandies' perfume was so strong, so womanly putrid, that Bond smelled something Dandies didn't.
Mixed in amongst the vile perfume stench was a second woman's perfume..... a girl of some sort was creeping down the hallway mixed in behind Afterthought and nobody had noticed. Nobody of course for Bond. Was it the beautiful Britney Birthday? Or maybe N had made good on her vexing promise to follow hm around. Bond did not dare turn around to find out. If it was N, he would only blow her cover. And if it was Britney, maybe she was on his side now. No, there would be nothing good coming from pointing out a second smell, so he didn't, he kept silent, and on they went.
"I will get my billion dollar tingles somehow or other James. And what your interessts are?"
Bond paused a moment. "Resurrection."
"I'm sorry what? Did you work for a vampire voodoo morgue in Lousiaina?"
"Employment."
"I'm sorry James can't hear you,"
MEANWHILE BACK IN LONDON
M was running a hard campagin to get his darling 00s publicly elected. "It's called demorcracy" he said. Q was powered by 4 cups of coffee, as he brought photos of Bond's face into Photoshop to see what he could plaster, fliter, light, emboss, layer, polarize, warp, edge punch, and beat to a cream. And if it had only occcured to M recently that there was an Instagram filter named after Bond's first love Vesper... What does this mean for the story remains to be scene............. (maybe nothng)
Bond dand Dandies arrived at the endo fthe hall.
It was a dark dining room made of old stone. Candlelight glittered on the ancient silver cutlery. And on sat atop the table smack right dab in the center was a framed photostat of Judy Dench, a smile stretched across her face. Blood-red candles like long Satanic fingers lit the portrait in a soft glow. Surround sound the table were seven chairs with gold crusted numbers. A dark-suited man with a shadowed face sat at each chair save for the first and last. Dandies approched chair number 1 at the head of the table and motioned for Bond to sit at number 7.
Bond went over to his chair and noticed that a soft scented fruit marker had scribbled too 00's in front of the 7.
So they knew, Bond thought. And they werent' afriad to get weird about it.
Bond sat down, and he could not make out the faces at the table except for two- Sam Dandies with a gentle spotlight glamour shot, and the man across from him.
He had Silver European hair swept up in a typical moneymade way, and nuts in his mouth. Bond couldn't help but feel as if, deep within his mind, he had seen this man before.
Each member of the table received a dinner menu from a pretty young thing. Bond relieved himself to know some girls in the house (aside from perfume number 2). Especially in light of Afterthought's naked showtune stocking dance in the hallway
But Bond had a trouble. Almost every item on the menu had a word he couldn't recognize. More than one actually. How was he to border without making a bloody fool of himself? On top of that, he was starving.
"What's the matter James?" Debussy giggled. "Can't read your menu?"
Bond wasted no time in trolling his host. "No, I am just not sure on your taste in food. I mean, the boloingier afragóis with bollonaise sauce? Only the gormless én gourmet would conceive of such a piece."
Dandies blinked. There was no mention of emotion on his face.
Bond ordered pizza and poured a vodka martini.
"No, no, no... James will have a small water with sand sprinkles please."
"Ok," said the girl who took Bond's martinti and disappeared in a flitter.
Dandies snapped his menu shut and scarfed his dinner down.
And they ate in silence. There was no pandoral box, no conversational setpiece, no reveal to a plan to lead to a kill and a destruction for the villain or anything of the sort. Bond realized now in this dark room of dark men and Judy Dench portraits that he couldn't kill Sam Dandies, not yet. He must work for him to discover his plans.
Dandies wiped his mouth. "And now for dessert I think I shall break off a piece of Africa and put it in my mouth."
He leaned forward and looked Bond straight in the eyes.
"The mouth of NAOBOB."
Chapter 9
DARK SEEDY UNDERBELLY ET AL.
Coming Soon
Bond shook violently, his arms splayed from behind by Afterthought. God I hope he's not still naked.