MATTER OF FACT JAMES BOND.

[madhair60]

dryden: how did he die?
bond: your contact? not well
dryden: made you feel it, did he? well, you needn't w-
bond: it was hard
dryden: er, right, well, y-
bond: he was good at fighting
dryden: okay, i -
bond: but i won
dryden: okay, ahem, well, you needn't worry.  the second is...
bond: ...
dryden: ...
bond: ... (smiles politely)
dryden: ahem, the second is...
bond: oh! (shoots dryden) yes it is. (long pause) con... constintantly.

[Old Nehamkin]

Blofeld: You only live twice, Mr. Bond.
James Bond: That's the name of the film!

[Glebe]

BOND: I am a total prick with an expensive suit and watch and car, like in a B&W magazine ad for men's perfume and I read FHM.

BLOFELD: Ah, Mr. Bond, I was expecting you to be a cunt.

[machotrouts]

Bond: He had lots of guts. LITERALLY!!!


Bond: I think he got the point. IN FACT... IN A WAY... HE REALLY DID GET THE POINT!!! HAHA!!!!!!! DIDN'T EVEN MEAN THAT


Bond: He was buried with work. I MEAN I KILLED HIM AND TOOK HIS PLACE GET IT DO YOU SEE WHAT I DI[gets shot]

[Quincey]

BOND IS IN A HOT TUB WITH TWO LADIES AND MICHAEL FROM ALAN PARTRIDGE

BOND: I've got to go, M, something's come up!

MICHAEL FROM ALAN PARTRIDGE: M, he means his...

BOND: Michael!

[machotrouts]

No, it's the right size. For my massive cock that is

[Shoulders?-Stomach!]

M: So Daniel the Bond it appears the Russians won't be trying that one again for some time

Daniel the Bond: That it is M The Bond. That it is.

*gunbarrel sequence*

[machotrouts]

Plenty: HI I'M PLENTY

Bond: but of course you are

Plenty: PLENTY O'TOOLE

Bond: named after your father's massive cock perhaps

[Glebe]

Q: Now pay attention, Bond...

BOND: Can't, there are female scientists in here! Bloody PC gone mad. Still, can't wait to fuck 'em!

[machotrouts]

Plenty: HI I'M PLENTY

Bond: but of course you are

Plenty: PLENTY O'TWAT

Bond: named after your twat perhaps

[DangledTeeth]

Bond: The name is James Bond. Not Bondjames Bond, nor is it Bond, James Bond. There is no need for me to be formal.

--

Bond: Do you exshpect me to talk?

Blofeld: No, Mr Bond... I expect you to utilise your hi-tech watch in order to escape and later thwart my megalomaniacal scheme. Cunt.

[non capisco]

SPECTRE
PART ONE: BOND'S GAMBIT.

INTRO: DER-DER etc.

PRE-TITLES SEQUENCE
Bond is pursued, escapes
BOND: (to camera) This has nothing to do with the rest of the film

TITLES SEQUENCE, 8 TIMES OUT OF A TEN A SHITE SONG, NAKED SILHOUETTES

EXT. WHITEHALL
INT. M'S OFFICE

merrp!
M: Send him in, Moneypenny
(BOND enters)
M: Have you heard of SPECTRE, Bond?
BOND: Yes. Horrible bunch of wazzocks.
M: They're in Jamaica. I've bought you a ticket to go there and give them a doing.
BOND: Shplendid.
merrp!
M: Send Q in, Moneypenny.
(Q enters)
Q: Pay attention, Bond. Whistle at this suitcase and a knife comes out or some shit.
BOND: Shplendid. (starts mucking about with it)
Q: Stop mucking about with it.
BOND: Shhory, Q.
M: See ya, Bond.
BOND: Bye then.

INT: Moneypenny's office
MONEYPENNY: Will you ever chuck one up us, 007?
BOND: No.

TO BE CONTINUED(?)

[Steven]

James Bond: The name's Bond, James Bond. Millionaire playboy just here to shoot a few crappes and take a gamble on the roulette wheel.

Questionable Woman: I'll be very pleased to hang off your arm as you do so, Sir, laughing at all your double-entendre witticisms and stealing the odd casino chip.

Baddie: I will be very pleased to compete against you in these gambling demonstrations which are a metaphor for our competing virility and pretend a millionaire playboy who I've never heard of who turns up at the most opportune time to rumble my big conspiracy isn't an obvious cover for a secret agent who's here to infiltrate my organisation.

Questionable Woman: And it may become apparent whether my dubious role is of a prostitute who is just scamming Johns at the casino, or a secret agent too, whether working for another intelligence organisation and placed here to help Bond or in fact a lackey for the Baddie to keep tabs on Bond, and perhaps kill him. I imagine this role will bear out as we progress later into the film.

James Bond: Well, we should let the bets commence, and I've got a large one.

Questionable Woman: Tee-hee-hee!

[DangledTeeth]

GoldenEye

Bond: Let's infiltrate this damn place and plant some explosives, Alec.

Trevelyan: Top good idea, mate.

Int. Chemical Tank Room

Bond sets the explosives

Bond: Shut the door, Alec. There's a fuckin' draft. Alec?

Bond slithers past the chemical tanks and is met with the sight of Trevelyan on his knees at gunpoint

Ouromov: Moovout. Throw down your veapon and valk towards me.

Alec: Finish the jobs, Jameses. Blow them all to hell.

Bond: As in oral sex? No, I won't. Because that would suck.

Ouromov: Fuckin' mate, don't churn out all these vorthless quipz. You are Bond James Bonds, English zpy. You muzn't use Americanisms.

Bond: Fair dos. Hug a flame, briv.

Ouromov: You hev ten zeconds. Ten. Nine. Eight. Zeven. Zix.

Bang goes Ouromov's gun

Bond: I do not have paintball mode on. This shall not be splendidly fun. Off fuck I go.

Bond flies off in a plane

Bond: I'm flying an aviation machine. Which is not surprising to say the least, 'cause I'm James Bond... Bond

Some Russsian stattelart dish is in receipt of the Gordoneye lazer. Isabella Scorupco emerges from the smoldering rubble and flintstone, wearing an elegantly understated blouse, a cardigan and skirt thing. Self-infliction in the gonad region is on the cardboard, let me tell you

Trevelyan: I am Janus. In years to come you'll think of that bug-eyed blonde woman who stars in EastEnders, who later calls herself Bobbin Womack.

Bond: Pinch my slippers and call me Amaretto! It is my old 'friend' who had a gun fired a few inches away from his head.

The Sean Bean Formerly Known as Trevelyan: You shall eject yourself out of a helicopter.

Bond: No. I'll open a set of metal gates and disappear into a murky 64-bit landscape.

THE GORDONEYE IN CUBA

Huge fight on a small platform

Janus: STRAWBREHS, James?

Bond: Maybe, briv. Maybe.

Bond lets go off Alec's size 8 shoe and he plummets to his death. Janus not Bond. Bond never dies tomorrow, for he is BOND JAMES BOND

[non capisco]

SPECTRE
PART 2: THINK QUICK, 007!

EXT: JAMAICA AIRPORT, PLANE LANDING

BOND walks out of airport, past a rack of postcards
As BOND passes postcards LURKING TONY, agent of SPECTRE, peeks from behind the rack. Remember him, he'll be in it later.

CAB DRIVER: Hello, Bond, getting in, is it?
BOND: Shhhplendid.

EXT: ROAD
BOND: What did you shhhay your name was?
CAB DRIVER: SPECTRE GOON, shit, I mean CAB DRIVER
BOND: (gun pointed at CAB DRIVER's neck) Pull over. I shhhhsupected you from the start.
CAB DRIVER: Oh gawwwd.
(They get out of cab)
BOND: Who do you work for?
CAB DRIVER: SPECTRE.
BOND: Damn your eyes. (shoots CAB DRIVER)
(From the side of the road appears FELIX LEITER)
FELIX LEITER: Bond, you son of a gun. I've been trailing you ever since you left the airport.
BOND: Felixschhhhh!
FELIX: Yes.

NEXT EPISODE: BLOFELD REVEALS HIMSELF.
Sneak preview: Vot's the deal with airline peanuts, Mr. Bond?

TO BE CONTINUED IF I CAN BE FUCKED.

[Glebe]

BOND: Come on, gercha tits out love, haven't got all day.

MISS PUSSYWILLOW: Oh, James!

[machotrouts]

Largo: *enters SPECTRE meeting room*

Blofeld: Sit down, Number 2.  We will discuss your NATO project later. I regret to inform you all of the death of SPECTRE Number 6. Colonel Jacques Bouvar was killed by an unknown assassin. His services will be greatly missed.  We will proceed with the area financial reports. Number 7?

Number 7: Blackmail of the double agent Matsou Fujiwa. Unfortunately, only 40 million yen. All the man had.

Blofeld: Number 10?

Number 10: Assassination of Perringe, the French anti-matter specialist who went over to the Russians. 3 million francs from the special department of the Quai d'Orsay.

Blofeld: Number 5?

Number 5: Our consultation fee for the British train robbery: £250,000 .

Blofeld: ...

Blofeld: Number 11?

Number 11: Distribution of Red China narcotics in the United States: $2,300,000. Collected by Number 9 and myself.

Blofeld: Two million three? Our expectations were considerably... higher, Number 11.

Number 11: Competition from Latin America. Prices are down.

Blofeld: I anticipated that factor. Are you quite sure all monies have been accounted for by yourself and Number 9?

Number 11: *nervously* To the penny, Number 1.

Blofeld: ON THE CONTRARY. I have satisfied myself that one of you is clearly guilty of embezzlement. SPECTRE is a dedicated fraternity whose strength lies in the absolute integrity of its members. The culprit is known to me. I have decided on the appropriate action.

Number 11: *shifts anxiously*

Blofeld: *presses button*

Number 9: *IS ELECTROCUTED*

Number 9's seat: *descends into floor*

Number 11: ...

Blofeld: Let us now proceed with - wait. lmao wrong button

Number 11: *IS ELECTROCUTED*

Blofeld: sorry. can't see shit past these blinds. Anyway

[thecuriousorange]

BOND: Hello my name is Bond, James Bond. I'm looking for Dr Goodhead.

WOMAN: You just found her.

BOND: I said Dr Goodhead, not nurse.

WOMAN: It's the eighties now, dinosaur.

BOND: A woman!

[Glebe]

BOND: Hello, look at me. I am not poor and am suave. I have an arched eyebrow.

HOLLY BENDMEOVER: Fuck off, mate.

[Steven]

POST 2010 THE FEMINIST OUROBOROS SWALLOWING ITS OWN TAIL JAMES BOND.

JAMES BOND: Hello Q, I see you're a woman now too.

Q (POINTING AT TITS): Did these give it away?

[Glebe]

JAMES BOND: Darling, I'm ready!

ROY 'CHUBBY' BROWN: Y'too fucking late, mate, I've got me fucking bell-end up 'er!

[thecuriousorange]

BOND: You know young Q, I really feel I could bring in that swine we believe is linked to the secret international terrorist network quicker than you computer boffins if I had a bigger, louder gun or something.

Q: Well here's a fridge magnet to play with. And an AA battery.

BOND: Sheer magnetism. Shocking.

[machotrouts]

M: And now we know what the "C" stands for.

C: ...

M: Careless.

C: OH! I thought you meant "cunt". Haha. That would have been embarrassing. Whew

[Glebe]

DR. IMA RIGHTSLUT: Good evening, Mr. Bond. Let's discuss the diagrams of Blofeld's secret lair.

BOND: Get 'em off.

[Beagle 2]

M: I've got the results of the test back, Bond. You've failed.
Bond: Damn the bloody tests, you know I'm the best in the service.
M: You've failed mate it's out of my hands.
Bond: Surely you could just cover it up though.
M: You're shit at shooting guns and it says here you're a mental.
Bond: Yeah but... I'll probably be alright when I get out there.
M: Based on what?
Bond: Y'know, fuckin... it's me innit. BA BA BAAA BA BA BAAAA.
M: You're losing it man it's sad.
Bond: BA BA BAAA PYOW PYOW PYOW JAMESES BONDSES JAMESES BONDSES
M: *gestures to security*

[DangledTeeth]

Boycios: It's gonna cost you a lot of poker chips to see my cards, Del Bond.

Bond: I'm all aht of money, Boycios.

Boycios: You shouldn't play big boys' games.

Bond: I know - Trigvelyan's car. Now it's a good 'un.



Boycios: You are correct. A 1966 Aston Martin isn't something you'd purchase at a South London-based second-hand car dealership.



Bond: 'e's bluffin'. 'e's definitely bluffin'! I've got two pairs. What have you got?

Boycios: Got a king.





Bond: FFFFFFFFFFFF... KING!?

Boycios: I didn't know you were good at espionage, Del Bond?

Bond: I thawt you were bluffin'!

Boycios: Oh no... nah-no-no-no-no, Del Bond. Not on your Necros.



Bond: What do you think you're doing?

Boycios: Collecting my winnings.

Bond: Oh no. No, no, no, no. Not on yer chicken royale. You know the rules: all cards must be shown before the winnings are collected

Boycios: Let's see your two pairs.

Bond: Well... I've got a pair of aces.



Boycios: Yeeeaaaah...



Bond: And another pair of aces.

Boycios: Four fuckin' aces?!

Bond: I didn't know you were good at espionage, too, Boycios.



Boycios: Well done, Bond. Nicely plaaaayed. (Hissing through clenched teeth) Where the fuck did you get those aces from?

Bond: The squidgy-faced Mindy Sterling lookalike dealer next to me dealt 'em. I'm 'ardly gonna cheat here.

Boycios: Oh. Toss of a coin?

Bond: No. I'm gonna have a toss later on.

Boycios: Eh? I don't get yer.

Bond: I'm gonna escort yer wife Marlange back to me 'otel room, right, and I try to bang 'er. Then she'll go walkin' off after I order a bottle of bubbly, which means I'll be corking one off by meself - and that isn't just a euphemism for 'aving a wank. I'm gonna have to say bond buche to yer.

Bond exits the gambling area and drives Marlange around the entrance in a circle and tries it on with her in his hotel room

John Sacravan: We've got some 'alf-price Astons, gadgets, Blofeld's cat and Oddjob's bowler hat.