Alternate James Bond Scenes- My Take

There are several instances in the Bond movies where I've wanted something to turn out differently than it actually did, and so often I think about those "what if" scenarios. Every so often, I'll post a scene and write my own take on how I think it should have gone down, and I'd like to get some feedback and ideas from you guys! Without any other interruptions, I'll put down the first scene and my revision:



Mr. Wint and Mr. Kidd attack 007 and Tiffany on Willard Whyte's yacht

My take: (a more fight-oriented, gritty approach)

Bond knew he smelled a rat, both figuratively and literally, the latter in the sense that Mr. Wint's repugnant cologne brought back the memories of being knocked out with an urn, loaded into a coffin at Slumber's Funeral Home, gassed out in an elevator, and stuffed into a construction pipeline in the middle of the Las Vegas desert. The very scent was enough evidence to convict both men as Blofeld's minions. "Muton Rothschild (spelling) is a claret, and I've smelled that aftershave before, and both times I've smelled a rat." Wint exchanged glances with Kidd, initiating their plan of attack. Bond, having seen this subtle trickery, flung his chair back, stood up, and reached for his Walther PPK on the inside of his dinner jacket. The agile Mr. Wint leaped on him in a split second, using a chopping motion with his hand to disarm 007, whose PPK fell to the deck with a clatter. Wint advanced with a right cross that slammed into Bond's chin, making him stumble backwards against the railing of the ship deck. Kidd took up the kebobs he had been fooling with earlier, and hurled one into the air at 007; luckily, he was just in time to drop to the deck and dodge the sharp projectile, which sailed over his head and into the vast ocean beyond the yacht. Taking advantage of his position on the deck floor, Bond scrambled to grab hold of his PPK. He scooped it up with lightning-fast reflexes and managed to jump back to his feet just as both assassins came his way. Wint was on him again in a flash, seizing the wrist of his gun hand and desperately attempting to wring the PPK out of his hands. The strain of Wint's hand upon Bond's wrist made 007 accidently squeeze off a round, which slammed into a bottle of wine on the cart that Wint and Kidd had earlier brought out, sending glass fragments and red liquid spewing over the deck. Kidd, seeing the struggle at hand jumped on Bond's back, and began to choke him around the neck using his bare hands. Bond dropped the PPK yet again, reaching up with his hands to grab Kidd's arms in a desperate attempt to free himself of the man's grip. Wint wheeled around and knelt to the ground to grab the pistol, and receieved a firm kick to the back by 007, making him sprawl out on the deck like a grounded bird. He then proceeded to force Kidd back with all his remaining strength, slamming him into the ship railing, and then ramming his elbow into the assassin's chest. Now free of the chokehold, he thundered around with incredible speed, slamming a fist of fury into Kidd's face, grabbing him by the neck of his shirt, and throwing him into the dinner table where he and Tiffany had earlier been sitting. Plates, bottles, glasses, and dishes went all directions as his body struck the table with surprising force. Wint turned to see Bond coming for him next, and managed to dodge an incoming left hook. Taking this moment of small victory, Wint lashed out with a right leg kick to Bond's knee. Due to his previous momentum from the failed left hook, and this blow to the knee, Bond stumbled into his and Tiffany's room, landing on the floor at the foot of the luxurious bed. Wint was coming up fast to followed up on his strike, but Bond was faster. He rose up, grabbed Wint by the lapels of his tuxedo, and threw him into the row of closets on his right. Wint sliced the air with a karate-style chop that landed on the side of Bond's neck, and then threw Bond back onto the bed, where he flipped off and landed on the other side. While this one-on-one had been going on, Mr. Kidd had recovered enough of his strength to grab the coveted PPK from the deck. He saw that Tiffany had retreated into the room's personal bathroom, and made a dash to eliminate at least one of the two targets. Both Wint and 007 soon sprinted for the door. Before Kidd could reach his target, she appeared from behind the bathroom door, slamming it against Kidd, who staggered backwards, but retained his grip on the pistol. Bond threw all his momentum at Kidd, slamming his shoulders into his chest and grabbing him about the waist. He then quickly let go, sending the spectacled, greasy-haired assassin flying into the opposite wall with a boom. 007 had been aware of his Walther that Kidd had dropped, and grabbed it in just enough time to throw himself to the floor once more to avoid an attack from Wint. Spinning around on the floor, he took aim and fired off a bullet. It struck Mr. Wint in the middle of the upper chest, sending a spray of blood into the air, and leaving him on the carpeted floor of the bedroom in a heap. Kidd, having risen up just as his partner was shot, made a desperate leap at Bond, sending them both tumbling across the floor. Both men rose again with extreme agility, exchanged a few quick fists before 007 forced Kidd back into the bathroom. The fight become much more close quarters, and it was really a scramble for who could use the PPK first. It was still firmly grapsed in Bond's hand, but in the extremely narrow bathroom, he could not manage to get off a shot. As if in a frame of slowed time, the men were deadlocked at the edge of the bathtub; the pistol edged down closer and closer to Kidd's head as Bond's gun hand shook with ferocity against his opponent's grip. Finally, Kidd's strength gave in, and Bond hurled him into the tub. Taking a step back to affirm a more accurate shot, 007 fired off three rounds, each which hit their mark. Kidd was dead. The crisis was over. Tiffany, having retreated again to the deck, came back into the bathroom the survey the second dead assassin. Bond was smattered in blood from head to toe, and greatly received a hug of delight and fright from Tiffany, who was as happy as 007 was to see Blofeld's final two henchmen dead.