This is going to be a grand exercise in what seems funny or even slightly funny and nothing even close resulting methinks. I was thinking in lines of what Lazenby. did with his Bond 23.
So here if you will picture Mr Bernard Lee and Sir George Lazenby in action.
This might explain why I just don't write Bond stuff anymore :)
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“Alright, James, you can go in now.”
“Thanks Moneypenny, you’re a dear.”
Bond pushed the door aside glancing at the wooden desk at which his chief was seated. Smoke rose in a neat column from the pipe, the lips in a scowl around the end as the pen scribbled furiously. Bond closed the door walking almost panther like to the desk and stopping at a lazy attention. He waited a minute or so.
“Sir, should I keep standing?”
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
M then put his pen down and reached for a folder which he more or less tossed at Bond. Bond glanced at the cover then groaned inwardly yet kept a placid expression. M looked up the pipe twitching as his lips worked. “Operation SKYFALL, Bond. What’s it about?”
“I was hoping you would tell me sir.”
“Don’t play the smartalec with me,” M growled taking his pipe out he gestured with it, “you were the one who started this file and you were the one who had your secretary put it on my desk.”
“I don’t have a secretary, sir.”
“What?”
“Not in this, sir.”
M sighed. “However be your case, 007. What is SKYFALL?”
Bond aimed his gaze at M’s portrait of the Battle of Trafalgar. “It’s to do with my family, sir. I don’t think they were killed in that skiing accident. I think it was a cover up for a spying mission that they were on and Blofeld’s behind it.”
M groaned rubbing at his eyes. “I see…Blofeld.”
“Something of a must…”
“Yes, yes, 007!” M picked up the folder and shook it. A picture of someone sat on the edge of a swimming pool fell out. “Candids, 007?”
“I always did enjoy leisure, sir.”
“This department is not concerned with your family affairs, 007. What happened to them was a long time ago and I thought you became a better man. I’ve overlooked some of this nonsense in the recent past but I won’t if you start using this as an excuse. Your 007, with a licence to kill not a walking Agony Aunt column in the Express.”
Bond smiled a little. “So, I just ignore it.”
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
“But, sir, the angst, the whole emotional angle,” Bond abruptly put both hands on the desk leaning forward glaring at M, “don’t you care!”
M said nothing instead putting his pipe back into the corner of his mouth and giving Bond one of his icy looks. “I’m the head of this department and the Secret Intelligence Service, Bond, not your nursemaid.”
Bond leant back a fraction, “I thought you would be interested…”
M made a cutting gesture eyes wide, “Enough! 007. This department has no further interest in SKYFALL.”
“Sir,” Bond took the file. When M said nothing else he walked towards the door. In the anteroom he looked at the floor then at Moneypenny. “Well, that’s that. SKYFALL’s dead.”
“Oh, James and to think this would’ve been the biggest mission yet.”
“Worry not, Moneypenny. There are still cocktails at my place,” Bond walked to the desk. “Eight?”
“No. I have a date.”
“Shame.” Bond watched with surprise as she took the file and dropped it in her shredder. “Penny!”
“Whatever would you with without me, James?”
“Waste a few trees on my paperwork I guess,” he went to get his hat. “Later, Penny.”
Afterwards Moneypenny’s squawk box crackled with a deep laugh. “Thank you Moneypenny, what would I and SKYFALL do without you?”
“Retire, sir,” she said prompting more laughter then the line went dead.
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