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 "Mind Your R's and Q's"

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Hilly
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PostSubject: "Mind Your R's and Q's"   "Mind Your R's and Q's" EmptyFri Jun 14, 2019 9:28 pm

Meant to be a bit of a laugh. Bit.

--

Pierce Brosnan as James Bond 007
John Cleese as ‘Q’ and
Michael Palin as ‘R’

SIS Headquarters, London


Bond had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he took the lift down into the bowels of Vauxhall Cross. He did not know why really, only that he did have a feeling that it was not going to be a good time down here. It was his first visit to Q Branch since the North Korean business. In fact one of his first visits to Vauxhall Cross generally since M had returned him to the fold. For a moment an image of Gustav Graves came to mind –his teeth chattering as Bond unleased the Korean’s suit on himself.
It’s time to face gravity!
The place felt different, somehow. Maybe spending over a year away, trapped in a prison, had done that to him. Even his office, with the old picture of the Queen, seemed a world away from the place he used to know.
Bond adjusted his blue tie as he stepped out of the lift. He wore a fine grey suit from Saville Row and black lace up shoes from Mayfair’s Bond Street. His steps rang hollow on the grey-hard floor of the department. Ahead of him the section opened up, men and women in white lab coats all over the place testing, developing and working on things that would help the few 00’s in the field. It bemused him sometimes, coming down here (it for one always seemed a different place each time he did) to see all these boffins at work. Yes, it was them who had kept him alive all this time in a way but it was like some Marx brothers film. The way they looked, acted sometimes and…
Bond grunted as he walked into something. Except there was nothing in front of him. Bemusement became annoyance, he reached out and felt something quite hard. Then he restrained a groan as he realised.
“Oh, Q!” he called.
The thin air ahead of him rippled as a car door magically appeared and then the white hair of Q as he stuck his head out. “Yes, 007?”
“I thought…,” Bond trailed off and folded his arms. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is a good question if phrased awkwardly, 007!” Q all but harrumphed as he stepped out of the Aston Martin Vanquish. He slammed the door shut. “Everytime Q Branch entrusts you with a car worth hundreds of thousands of pounds it ends up ruined!”
“I left this one in good condition.”
“Albeit dented and bruised from driving it through an ice palace!”
Bond shook his head. “Q…”
There was a muffled thumping from the thin air ahead of him. Q looked to his left then cursed quietly and walked back, around and to the side. He fumbled and opened a door. A man in a lab coat clambered out with short greying black hair. He fidgeted past Q. “I don’t appreciate the gag, Q.”
“It wasn’t a gag. It’s not my fault you don’t know how to open a car door!”
Bond smiled and wagged a finger. “This is…R?”
“That wasn’t funny the first time you made that joke,” Q said deadpan.
“But yes,” ‘R’ said chirpily. Bond found his grin growing. He walked around the Vanquish giving it the once over.
“So, why was I sent here? M said it was important.”
“It is important, 007,” Q said archly. He spread his arms and gestured at the car. “The damage to governmental property is not on.”
“Occupational hazard. I was driving through a wall of ice at the time.”
“Not to mention the loss of the ejector seat, the windscreen and the dents from when you rammed a snowmobile.”
“Two snowmobiles.”
Q murmured something under his breath. R said brightly: “Sounds rather thrilling! You Double-O’s have a rather smashing time of it.”
“Smashing is one word for it,” Bond remarked as Q rolled his eyes. He turned to the armourer: “Q, this is immaterial. I did the job, let’s skirt past it.”
Bond went to walk off except Q’s bark made him stop. “Skirt past it! You destroy government property with impunity, come over here, please, Bond.”
Q beckoned Bond whilst walking away. R gave Bond an apologetic look and hurried after Q. Bond bit down a refrain and casually followed. Across the lab was a curtained off section, Bond had never noticed it before. For good reason as there was a small handwritten sign that said ‘Cast Offs –DO NOT TOUCH!’
Q whipped the curtain back with a harrumph. Bond groaned inwardly as he was confronted with a sizable corner of the lab full of debris. Closest to him was a pile of white bits of metal. Q tapped the pile with a foot: “This is the remains of your Lotus.”
“Foolproof security system, Q,” Bond said.
Q wandered past the remains of a BMW Z8 that was neatly sliced down the middle. Bond put a hand to his forehead. “I know what you’re going to say but I was being chased by helicopters…”
“Wielding buzz-saws! I. Ask. You!”
R glanced at Q. “I say, are you okay? All this shouting will give you a blister…”
“Quiet,” hissed Q. He proceeded to show Bond the remains of enough of his past equipment to make Bond fidget from foot to foot. He then extended an arm, palm out. “And to think that the Vanquish is the latest in a long line of destruction.”
“Look on the bright side,” Bond said, “Aston Martin is bringing out the DB9 soon. You could say that the Vanquish has had its day.”
“Might even say that it’s ceased to be,” R said brightly, “it no longer is, it’s pining for the fjords, it’s no more, it’s expired and gone to meet its maker, it’s an ex-…”
Q cut him off with a glare. “Are you quite finished?”
“Yes, Q,” R aimed his gaze downward.
“The fact remains, 007, you have caused Q Branch no end of trouble,” Q then produced a hammer. Where it came from was anyone’s.
“Yes, Q?” Bond asked snippily.
“Time to iron out the dents,” Q handed the hammer over looking quite pleased.
“Are you serious?”
“It should take you about a day.”
“I should speak to M,” Bond turned to go once more.
“It was her idea!”
“Come again?”
“I’d sooner not. This was M’s idea, 007.”
“Er, she said that too much money has been wasted on Q Branch’s repair bill,” R said fidgeting from foot to foot looking awkward.
“This would be my retirement present,” Q grinned at Bond looking quite pleased with himself.
“You’re leaving?” Bond tried not to sound too glad. “Shame, too short a season, Q.”
“You’ll miss me in your way, 007.” Q folded his arms. “Off you go.”
Bond walked over to the Vanquish, the two Q’s (or was that still Q and R?) and was about to swing the hammer when he lowered it to his waist. The Vanquish rippled into nothingness. Bond reached his free hand out.
“You know, Q, I can’t seem to find the thing.”
“Don’t be silly, 007,” Q snapped glaring at him.
“I have no idea,” Bond’s hand brushed the air and he felt something solid. He turned with a smile. “If I can’t see the car, how can I sort it out?”
Q patted his pockets, his face going red. “I’ve lost the key!”
“I don’t have it,” R said pulling out his pockets for good measure.
They both looked at Bond who was already halfway towards the lift.
“007!” bellowed Q.
“I can’t hear you, Q.”
“007!”
“Still can’t hear you,” Bond entered the lift. As the doors closed, he held out the key fob and dropped it down the gap between the car and doors. Then just as they closed on him, Bond did a cheery wave and was gone.
R glanced at Q who met that look.
“One word and you’ll be X, R.”
“Understood, Q.”

END
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