[A hotel bedroom in Cortina]
And so, my darling, it wouldn't be the case that you 'av been keeping secrets from me, mmm?
What do you mean, my darling?
No phantoms in the closet, my sweet? No SPECTREs? No faces from the past return?
I 'av no idea what you mean, my darling. Please, fetch me a glass of milk...
Of course, my darling. But after that, you'll never see me again. This is *it* for us. Elke Sommer's in the sequel...
Oh, don't get cold feet, my darling. Go get me my milk and come back to bed.
Was I stoopid to love you, my darling? Was it obvious to everybody else?
[As Clouseau leaves to fetch the milk, Sir James Bond emerges from his hiding place under the bed.]
Mrs Clouseau-Swann [to Sir James]:
Hurry, my darling! He'll be back soon...
Nonsense, darling. We have all the time in the world... once I've arranged to kidnap the Princess's Dou Dou...
[Minutes later, Clouseau prat-falls through the door, spilling milk in one hand and firing a golden gun in the other, blasting the ceiling.]
Ah, Inspector... Now I see you really *are*... the man with the golden gun!
And you, Sir James, are really the Phantom!
Nonsense, my dear fellow. I'm merely an international raconteur and playboy. And our next film together will be too big for just the one 007.
And *this* franchise, Sir James, will be too big for just the one Pink Panther...
[Mrs Clouseau-Swann chokes on her milk and makes her exit coughing and spluttering]
😀😀😀 Tremble much, Clouseau?
[Bond approaches Clouseau and Mrs Capucine Clouseau-Lynd at the bar]
Bond: The name's Tremble. Evelyn Tremble.
Clouseau [doing a double take at Bond]: Hmmm, straange... very straange! Do I know you from somewhere? I, Monsieur Tremble, am Inspector Clouseau of the Deuxieme Bur... er... of the Surete! And this [gesturing towards Mrs Clouseau-Lynd]... is the meuoney!
Mrs Clouseau-Lynd [to Bond]: Isn't Evelyn a girl's name?
Bond: No, it's mine, actually.
[Jimmy Bond arrives at the bar and announces himself as the nephew of Sir James Bond. Mrs Clouseau-Lynd chokes on her Martini and leaves the bar coughing and spluttering]
These are some complex Pink Panther/Casino Royale/Casino Royale mash-ups!
Deliciously going around in circles.
These just keep getting better and better! 🤣🤣🤣🤣
Sir James: "As I said, old bean: this is too much... for one OO7!"
Nomi: "I know, right?"
Clouseau: "Aha, that meybe so, but: you only leev once, so see 'The Pink Panther' twice!"
Bond: "And twishe ish the only way to live!"
Nomi: "There was I, thinking Bond was dead..."
Ernst LaRousse Dreyfus (his one eye twitching): "No, Bond is alive! Kill Bond... now!"
[Sir James and an entourage of Bonds ascend to heaven for the end credits, playing harps along to Burt Bacharach.]
2018. Jeffrey Wright’s agent’s office. Jeffrey walks in.
Agent: Hi, Jeffrey, glad you could make it.
Jeffrey: No problem, now what was so important that you had to see me? I had to take a day off from shooting “Westworld”, you know.
Agent: This is bigger than “Westworld” and I think you’ll be pleased.
Jeffrey: All right, you’ve got my attention.
Agent: Which part are you most famous for?
Jeffrey: (Without hesitation.) Bernard Lowe, in “Westworld”.
Agent: Maybe at the moment, but which part will you go down in posterity for? Which part in the world of films, not television, have you made a mark in? Big successful films, known the world over-
Jeffrey: All right, I think you’ve made your point. You’re talking about me playing Felix Leiter, in the James Bond films.
Agent: Exactly. Now, how would you like to do it again? Become the first actor to play Felix Leiter three times?
Jeffrey: Yes, I would like that very much. I do have to say, though, that they’ve taken their sweet time over it.
Agent: Ah yes, they’ve got into the habit of doing that, I’m afraid. Millions of fans all over the world have been complaining about that.
Jeffrey: Ok, let me see the script.
Agent: Of course.
(He hands Jeffrey the script. Jeffrey takes a quick flick through it.)
Jeffrey: All right, so I come into the story nice and early, get a couple of scenes and then…. What? What????
Agent: I thought you might say that.
Jeffrey: They’re killing me? I mean, they’re killing Felix? I get a couple of scenes and then I get shot?
Agent: Yes, but-
Jeffrey: Couldn’t I at least get bitten by a shark? Lose an arm or a leg?
Agent: I think they feel audiences might remember that happening before.
Jeffrey: Well, I guess I’ll be doing it. It’ll at least be memorable.
Agent: Yes, that’s right. This will be remembered as the film where Felix Leiter gets killed.
2018: Lea Seydoux’s agent’s office. Lea comes in.
Agent: Ah, Lea. How are you?
Lea: Tres bien, merci. You said you had something to talk to me about?
Agent: Yes, that’s right. Now, you remember when you did that James Bond film a couple of years ago?
Lea: Oh yes- “Spectre”.
Agent: And they mentioned that they might like to ask you back to do another one later?
Lea: Yes, like Maud Adams perhaps.
Agent: No, they want you to play the same character, Dr Madeleine Swann, in the next movie.
Lea: What’s that called?
Agent: Oh, it’s just “Bond26” at the moment.
Lea: I don’t suppose they’d consider naming it “Swann”?
Agent: Hmm… that’s not the worst idea I’ve heard- I’ll pass it along to them with your agreement to come back.
Lea: Not so fast, mon ami- have you seen the script?
Agent: They’re still writing it- you have a large and important part in this story, it’s not like you’re playing Felix and they’d have your scenes ready to show you.
Lea: Then I have a request- make Madeleine die at the end of the film!
Agent: Madeleine? Die?
Lea: Yes, it will make her really stand out. Have the music play that song, what was it, “All The World’s Time” or something like that, so the audience gets a clue what is going to happen.
Agent: No no, we can’t do that. We can’t have another leading lady die at the end of the film- they want to make everyone else die and you stay alive!
Agent: It’s a bit like “Hamlet”- well, only a bit….
Lea: So I’m the only one left alive at the end?
Agent: Well, not quite- perhaps you should have a read…...
2021. Ticket Office of a cinema showing “No Time To Die”. A man, bearing a strong resemblance to “R”, approaches.
Man: Hello, miss!
Clerk: (Clearly male.) What do you mean, miss?
Man: I’m sorry, I have a cold. I wish to register a complaint!
Clerk: We’re closing for lunch.
Man: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this James Bond what I purchased about two hours and 45 minutes ago from this very cinema.
Clerk: Oh yes, the, uh, the “No Time To Die”…. What’s, uh, what’s wrong with him?
Man: I’ll tell you what’s wrong with him, my lad. He’s dead, that’s what’s wrong with him!
Clerk: No, no, he’s...eh… he’s resting.
Man: Look matey, I know a dead James Bond when I see one- and I’m looking at one right now.
Clerk: No, no, he’s resting! Remarkable film, “No Time To Die”, isn’t it? Beautiful photography!
Man: The photography don’t enter into it. He’s stone dead.
Clerk: No, no, he’s resting!
Man: All right then, if he’s resting I’ll wake him up! (Shouts at his ticket.) Hello, Mister Bond James Bond! I’ve got a lovely Vodka Martini shaken not stirred for you if you show me-
(The clerk hits the ticket.)
Clerk: There! He moved!
Man: No he didn’t!
Clerk: He’s probably pining for the Tom Fjords.
Man: Pining for the Tom Fjords?
Clerk: Yeah, pining.
Man: He’s not pining, he’s passed on! This James Bond is no more! He has ceased to be! He’s expired and gone to meet his maker! He’s a stiff! Bereft of life, he rests in peace!
Clerk: Look, I never wanted to do this, you know. I wanted to be…. A Marvel Superhero!
Who's she playing then, Fortin-bras?
😁 Not bad!
Pining for the Tom Fjords.
that was genius.
For some reason this Conversation makes me feel blue .....
@Barbel the last line in #1752 is priceless.
It's... Pussy Gal... er... Monty Python's Flying Circus!
"He's the R-mourer and he's okay / He sleeps all night and invents all day / He wears lab coats, looks down his nose / And designs invisible cars!"
Thank you @Gymkata and @chrisno1, you're very kind. And Number24, beautiful plumage. Shady, 😱😱😱
2021. Madeleine’s place. Mathilde is tucked up with Dou-Dou. James and Madeleine lie in bed, his arm around her. She is fast asleep, his mind keeps working. Madeleine has told him that Mathilde is not his; he doesn’t believe her for one second. Nor do we.
James’s mind: (Can’t stop thinking.) Mathilde. It’s a lovely name- pretty sure it’s Madeleine’s mother’s name, I seem to recall her mentioning it once. I’d have preferred Monique, but that’s one fight I don’t mind losing.
If only I’d known… I wouldn’t have wasted all that time… Well, I’ve only myself to blame for that. She did try to tell me but I wouldn’t listen…
Mathilde… She’s so young, and her heart is an open book… And now, now I have a- a family. I suppose I’ll have to quit the Double-O section; we can’t have families, makes us too vulnerable to pressure, to being compromised. I’ll have to tell that old bastard M that I’m resigning. God, I can just see his face- “Again???” he’ll say. Well, he should be used to it by now. He’ll ask me if I would want to go back to standard intelligence duties and I’ll say “No, sir. I would not.”
I hope the child safety seat fits into the back of the Aston Martin, it’s not exactly designed as a family car. Better disconnect that red button in the gear knob, too.
Eve will love being an auntie! I can just see her every birthday and Christmas, bringing presents round with a big smiling look of love on her face. And for Mathilde as well.
Does every important woman’s name in my life have to begin with the letter “M”? Madeleine, Mathilde, Monique, Mansfield, Moneypenny, Vesp… oh, right. Don’t go there.
We could live right here, just the three of us… wait- suppose another one comes along? Well, that just proves that Le Chiffre was wasting his time, everything still works! Maybe we could name the next one Monique, I’d like that…
Wait…. Could it be… what the hell? Suppose “she” is a “he”? I wonder what he’ll think of me? I guess he’ll call me the old man. I bet he’ll think I could lick any other fella’s father- well, I can!
(And with his mind now lost on a carousel, James drifts off to sleep.)
I love the traces of Bond song lyrics in that one... a heart that's an open book; only himself to blame...
Thanks Shady. I thought on including more, but decided against it.
I may have been too subtle with the ending, though.
Edit- or perhaps "obscure" would be a better word. If anyone wants to know, just drop me a line.
When I started this thread, I had no idea it would go on so long (pushing 18 months), reach 60 pages, or have so many views (11k). Well, here we are and it's still going strong. Firstly, my thanks to all the contributors and collaborators- C&D, Gymkata, Shady Tree, CoolHandBond, our dear departed Thunderpussy, Number24, Westward_Drift and everyone else. That's what makes this fun.
Now, a question. What is your favourite style of Imaginary Conversation?
(1) The Premieres
(2) The Publisher's Meetings
(3) The Production Meetings
(4) The Monty Python ripoffs
Or what? My personal favourite is when the ghosts of Cubby Broccoli and Ian Fleming visit Michael G. Wilson and Barbara Broccoli- I'd happily write them every day!
Please, let me know what you are enjoying or not enjoying.
No takers? Well, you had your chance!
For this one, a nod of thanks to Gymkata.
2021. An insurance office. The manager sits with accounts in front of him, wearily shaking his head as he goes through them. The door opens, and his deputy comes rushing in.
Deputy: Hey, Boss, have you heard?
Manager: (Looks up hopefully.) No, what is it?
Deputy: James Bond is dead!
Deputy: James Bond is dead! He died on a mission on an island somewhere off Asia.
Manager: Are you sure?
Deputy: Saw it myself, with my own eyes. He got shot several times!
Manager: He’s been shot before, he always survives.
Deputy: Yes, but he also got infected by some sort of nanobot virus.
Manager: Well, surely his guy R or Q or whatever he’s called can figure out a way to solve that.
Deputy: Yes, but he then got blown up by a barrage of missiles which- get this, you’re gonna love it- he ordered up himself!
Manager: He did?
Deputy: Oh yes.
Manager: I don’t know…
Deputy: He’s dead, dude!
Manager: Finally, an end to “no fault” insurance! Us losing a fortune being the life insurance policy underwriter for SPECTRE! And most of all, being property insurance underwriters! Venice has cost us a fortune- they’ll hold a parade there!
Deputy: Er, Boss…?
Manager: Yes, what?
Deputy: You can’t hold parades in Venice, the streets are all full of… (He sees the look in his boss’s eye.) Yes, he’s gone!
Manager: Break out the champagne!
(The phone rings.)
Manager: You get it, I’m in euphoria.
Deputy: (On phone.) Hello…. No, he’s busy… What?… But I saw…. Oh right… Yes, I’ll tell him.
Manager: What is it?
Deputy: (Head hanging down.) I have to tell you, I was so excited to see him die that I didn’t wait until the end.
Manager: Yes? And?
Deputy: It said…
Manager: What? What did it say?
Deputy: It said… “James Bond Will Return”.
Manager: Oh God….
I don't have a particular favourite style of Conversations, I just enjoy them!
2021. Eon HQ, inside a flying saucer in Trafalgar Square. MGW is proudly showing his son Gregg the ropes while Aunt Barbara looks on smiling.
MGW: Now, over here is where we keep the unsolicited scripts.
BB: We receive about, oh, 200 or 300 of them every week. Mainly from some guys on something called AJB.
MGW: Now, you just put the scripts in here…
(There is a buzzing sound. Shreds of paper fall into the bin below.)
BB: Got it, Gregg?
Gregg: Yes, got it.
MGW: Now this next one I’m particularly keen about. You see this small lever here?
Gregg: Yes, Dad.
MGW: Now if you take the top off, you’ll find a little red button. Whatever you do don’t touch it.
Gregg: Why not?
BB: Unless Lee Tamahori or Marc Forster is sitting in this seat... here.
Gregg: The one with the hatch above it?
BB: That's the one.
Gregg: What do I do if it’s Sam Mendes?
MGW: Ah, right…
(He presses a button and a large screen drops down, obscuring the desk. At the touch of another button, the screen lights up showing BB and MGW sitting behind the same desk.)
BB: (Onscreen.) Yes, I see, Sam.
MGW: (Onscreen.) Tell us more, Sam.
(The real MGW presses a button and the screen goes up again.)
MGW: We’ve got about 6 hours of footage there, then it loops back and starts all over again.
BB: Now, we’d like to show you-
(A secretary comes in.)
Secretary: Sorry, you have a phone call.
BB: Oh, just tell them we’ll call them back.
Secretary: It’s Jeff Bezos.
(MGW and BB exchange looks of fear and leap behind the desk, cowering.)
BB: Gregg- you take this call!
Gregg: What, me? But-
MGW: Baptism of fire, son- a learning experience!
(Gregg reluctantly lifts the phone as the secretary leaves the room.)
Gregg: Er, hello?
Bezos: (On phone.) WILSON!!!!!!!
Gregg: Yes, that’s me.
Bezos: Doesn’t sound like you.
Gregg: Ah, I see. No, this is Gregg Wilson, his son.
Bezos: Put your father on at once!
(MGW shakes his head from behind the desk.)
Gregg: Er, he’s not here.
Bezos: Then put your aunt on immediately!
(The only part of Barbara that can be seen is one finger, frantically wagging “No".)
Gregg: She’s not here either, Mr Bezos. Is there anything I can do to help you?
Bezos: Yes there most certainly is! I’m just back from seeing this latest film of yours.
Gregg: Oh, yes, “No Time To Die”. Did you enjoy it?
Bezos: Well, I thought Paloma was good and I liked the bit with the Aston Ma- no, I most certainly did not enjoy it!
Gregg: Oh? Was it the music? I said to Hans-
Bezos: No, not the music! I just paid your company the annual GDP of a reasonably sized country to acquire the rights to James Bond.
Gregg: Ah yes, I think I can recall my father saying something about that.
Bezos: And you guys go and kill him in the very next movie!
Gregg: Yes, but you see-
Bezos: And more than that, it’s beginning to look like we won’t make as much money as we were counting on.
Gregg: Well, it’s still to-
Bezos: You tell them to call me the moment they get back to the office. You hear me? The moment they get back!
(Bezos slams the phone down so hard that Michael and Barbara have to hold their hands to their ears.)
Gregg: You heard all that?
BB: Yes, we did.
Gregg: So, what are we going to do?
MGW: “We”? Now pay attention, Gregg. It’s at times like this that your aunt and I remember what your grandfather Cubby tried to teach us.
Gregg: And what was that?
BB: Always have an escape plan.
(MGW presses a button and he and Barbara slowly sink from sight behind the desk.)
If only the part about Tamahori and Forster was true! 🤣
I'd add John Glen to the Tamahori/Forster file.
Your wish is my command, Gymkata. Just a small change in the time period.
1990. Eon HQ, above a concert hall in Bratislava. Cubby Broccoli is proudly showing the ropes to Michael and Barbara.
Cubby: ….and here is where we keep all the ideas from Harry Saltzman. Now, you just put his ideas in here…
Cubby: Got that?
BB: Got it, Dad.
Cubby: Now this next one I’m particularly keen about. You see this small lever here?
MGW: Yes, Cubby.
Cubby: Now if you take the top off, you’ll find a little red button. Whatever you do don’t touch it.
MGW: Why not?
Cubby: Unless John Glen is sitting in this seat... here.
BB: The one with the hatch above it?
Cubby: That's the one.
MGW: What do we do if it’s Lewis Gilbert?
Cubby: Ah, right…
(He presses a button and a large screen drops down, obscuring the desk. At the touch of another button, the screen lights up showing Cubby sitting behind the same desk.)
Cubby: (Onscreen.) Yes, I see, Lewis. Tell me more, Lewis.
(The real Cubby presses a button and the screen goes up again.)
Cubby: We’ve got about 6 hours of footage there, then it loops back and starts all over again.
You are awesome.
Excellent adds, Barbel!
(And I have no particular favourite type of imaginary conversation - whatever's in the air!)
[A Luxembourg tax haven]
HMRC* really doesn't mind you making a little money on the side, Bezos. They'd just prefer it if it wasn't by avoiding a fair tax return.
If your MGM theatricals are supposed to impress me, Bond, you've picked the right man. And if Barbara Broccoli was really opposed to a spin-off series on Amazon Prime, she'd have revoked her Double-O interests. Benefits of being a billionaire chief executive; I get to...
[Cross-fade to launchpad in tropical jungle]
Voice echoing over tannoy:
Astro-technicians, prepare for pre-launch program... Captain Kirk, report to spacecraft... Repeat: Captain Kirk, report to bridge...
[Gizmos go ping]
I'm so filled with emotion! It's extraordinary, just extraordinary! Thank you, Jeff!
Even in space my munificence is boundless... like my mergers and acquisitions! Jaws, Mister Bond must be cold after his syndicated television repeats. Place him where he can be assured of warmth... on Prime!
Five... four... three... two... one... lift off!
[*Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs]
Thank you @Gymkata and @Shady Tree and @Number24.
Shady, nice mix of CR + MR + topical references!