Glossy News has succeeded in scoring the first ever interview with that icon of masculinity and daring do, that virile epitome of super secret spydom, that name that causes gorgeous women’s inner plumbing to contract in excited anticipation, the one, the only, JAMES BOND, British Agent Number 007, who has a license to kill and to thrill.
We tracked Mr. Bond to his latest dwelling, the M.Z. Moneypenny Convalescent Home and, once cleared by M, were able to be granted an interview by Mr. Suave himself, the one, the only James Bond:
I walk into the lounge area of the care center and find the greatest master spy the Western world has ever known waiting for me- in a wheel chair. He looks aged beyond his years. His once virile hair gone white with age and his hands deeply veined and aged. I am shocked at his appearance.
ME- “How are you, Mr. Bond” I extend my hand to him to shake.
BOND- “What’s that you say?” He cups a hand to his ear. His voice is high pitched and cracked; an old man’s voice.
ME- I try again a little louder. “I said ‘How are you, Mr. Bond’”.
BOND- “Did you said ‘Who are you screwin’, you cheeky bastard?”
A curvaceous nurse happens by.
NURSE- “Oh, Mr. Bond, you have your hearing aid turned down again! Let me adjust it for you.” (To me)’ He has a hard time hearing now because of all the gunshots that went off near his head.” (To Bond) “How is that now, Mr. Bond? Can you hear me OK now?”
BOND- “Are you the one this clown says I am screwin’?”
NURSE- She laughs. “Now Mr. Bond! Let’s not be naughty! Remember what the doctor said about your heart!”
BOND- “I did not fart! It was probably this bozo here who talks funny!”
NURSE- “Mr. Bond! That’s not very nice! This is Mr. R. Freed. He is here to give you an interview.”
BOND- “What? He’s here to give ME a screw?!!! I don’t stand for his type! Where’s my gun?”
NURSE- “Now Mr. Bond, you know we took that away from you. You no longer have your double-0 status. We can’t have you shooting up the ward like you used to!”
BOND- “How do you know he isn’t a Russian spy sent out to get me like in ‘The Spy Who Loved Me”.
NURSE- “He’s too dumb. He’s more like the Woody Allen spy in the spoof version of “Casino Royale.” She leaves.
BOND- (He squints over at me mullingly.) “She is right!”
ME- “Gee, thanks…!. Anyway Mr. Bond, I wanted to ask you about your illustrious career.”
BOND- (Still squinting, his voice has a deathly calm to it.) You are a Yank, aren’t you?”
ME- “Um….yes I am, sir.”
BOND- “There is a capital in that ‘Sir’ you might consider.”
ME- “Yes Sir!”
BOND- “That is more like it. You Yanks really think you got it all, don’t you? I used to polish guys like you off before I even got my knickers on in the morning.”
ME- “Well, Sir, I know you are a very talented gentleman. I am amazed by the amount of damage you have survived. You were tortured by an exercise machine in the book Dr. No, towed through a coral reef in Thunderball, stomped by gunmen in metal boots in Diamonds Are Forever, and had your nuts cracked in Casino Royale. How did you survive all that?”
ME- “Mr. Bond, aren’t you listening to me? Are you asleep?”
The nurse reappears.
NURSE- “Oh dear! Did he fall asleep on you? Well, it is past his nap time it looks like.”
ME- “What has happened to him? This isn’t the James Bond that I expected?”
NURSE- “Well, to be honest, his bad habits and life style caught up with him. Those ‘shaken, not stirred’ martinis got to be too frequent, his carousing sapped his health and the constant rough stuff of his profession took its toll. You can only take so many punches to the head before your head doesn’t work right any more. Just ask Mohammed Ali!”
ME- “That’s terrible!”
NURSE- “It is. But look at his record. He has gotten shot seven times, thrown off a cliff twice, been in five bomb explosions, got lasered by Goldfinger, roasted by Doctor No, and car crashed by Hugo Drax. He has been knifed, karatied, drugged, shark attacked, hugged by a giant squid and thrown into the trunk of numerous makes of foreign autos. And then there was the time he got kissed by Margaret Thatcher. Quite a bit to deal with for one life, I’d say!”
ME- “Yes, indeed! It’s too bad though. I really had hoped to get more out of him.”
NURSE- “Well, that is the problem. Too many meanies before you also tried to get more information out of him. But, you can come back tomorrow and try again. It’s his birthday and we’re having a little party.”
ME- “Oh, great! How old will he be?”
NURSE- “Thirty five!”