🤣🤣🤣 Captain on radio to Willard Whyte: "Look, Dubya Dubya, I don't care if he's having a good time! I can only steam around in circles for as long as I have any waiters left!"
2006. Mr White exits his car. His telephone rings.
Mr White: Hello?
Bond: (On phone.) Mr White? We need to talk.
Mr White: Who is this?
(A shot rings out. Mr White, hit in the leg, crawls painfully towards the door of the house. Bond is standing there, wearing an immaculate suit which The Bond Experience can tell every last detail of. He’s carrying a very impressive firearm, which someone here can no doubt give all relevant details about.)
Bond: The name’s Bond. James Bond.
Mr White: (In pain.) Oh, Bond. I didn’t recognise you with your clothes on.
Mr White: We’ve met before, Mr Bond. Although I think you can be forgiven for not remembering.
Bond: What do you mean?
Mr White: Your attention was, shall we say, elsewhere? You were tied to a chair, naked. Le Chiffre had been hitting you with a rope in exactly the area in which a man would not want to be hit. (Bond’s face begins to sweat..) Ah, I see you remember.
Bond: How do you know all this?
Mr White: Le Chiffre knocked your chair over and was just about to begin some, er, amateur surgery on you. I shot him before he could begin it.
Bond: (Remembering.) Yes…
Mr White: So you see, Mr Bond, you owe me one. And how do you repay me? By shooting me in the leg!
(Bond opens the boot of his car.)
Bond: You may have a point there, Mr White. This, however, isn’t the time or place for us to debate it.
(Bond picks Mr White up, ties his wrists and stuffs him in the boot of the car.)
Mr White: Aargh!
Bond: Try not to bleed too much. You'll be in there for a couple of years.
Mr White: What? A couple of-
(Bond slams the boot lid shut, goes into the car, and drives away.)
Love that White's in the trunk for a couple of years. That made me do a spit laugh.