JAMES BOND-THE ESCAPEHATCH (JEG)(ELRUADEBOOK)
Author: Elruade

Chapter 2
ERARTU

2. 

 

-Role of James Bond played by Hare Basreol.

-It is 2056 and raining. The rain might be steel.

-We hide under an overpass.

 

        If there were more required for you to know you will be notified all at once. Proceed.

        The view of the city from across the river. The city A) looks steeped in rain. B) It looks orange. C) The eastern block isn’t accessible anymore because of some accident that occurred there.

        He told me to move over so more people could sit under the overpass. This convinced me to go someplace else. I peeled several layers off and went in the direction of the air current. In the newspaper today: James Bond found dead in the river. Body Identified as that of James Bond. It actually said James Bond, like it was really him.

        After James Bond finished his last movie Inevitability to Death he landed in a depression because he had acted too well and became convinced of all meaninglessness in his life. It was directed by a Scotsman and co-directed by an Irishman. If you want a coffee with it just yell.

        (Just as a besides—the Bond who acted in You only live twice did indeed gain an exceeding confidence both in himself and the world around him. Then the Bond in Quantum of Solace actually found a peace within himself and retreated to an island retreat, where he lives now with seven dogs and a leash)

        The kettle screamed; I didn’t associate it with pain and I lifted it well off the stove. I held it about a meter and half above the ground and listened to it screaming. The air inside had someplace to go. It needed to be somewhere else right at this moment. A total escape. It wanted escape so badly nothing would stand in its way. Hot air creeped out the cracks.

        I made two coffee. My manager was there with me, having braved the rain in a sleeveless shirt. I admire his arms you know, I really do. They remain as thin as a woman’s while his upper body in fact is increasing in muscular mass. If he made it available to the public; I mean how to do that, he could make a million.

        He had made a million and then some selling the image of James Bond to the public. He had co-directed and planned several movies in the series, like each one is better than the last one or whatever. Now he was discussing possible plot twists with the man himself. I mean James Bond himself. Not the actor.

        -First let’s get it straight; how many wives?

        -Bond? None. He will sleep with them and that’s it.

        -Why shouldn’t he have wives?

        -It’s too demanding of him. Bond won’t take any responsibility at all.

        -So how many did he do?

        -I beg your pardon?

        -How many women did he do?

        -He doesn’t count them! And no; each one is special.

        -What about budget?

        -A cool 5 billion.

        -We can hire St. Augustine.

        -Hm?

        -Never mind, it’s a joke.

        -But we can rent Paris for a day or so and shoot it entirely on the spot. We might do a real-time thing you know. We follow Bond around Paris for the day. Or for two hours. We will shoot a day’s worth of film and edit it.

        -What?

        -I can get James Cagney and Meryl Streep. We’ll have Susan Sarandon play the role of Sarah, your Parisian lover.

        -No way. Give me a young thing.

        -How young? I can’t exceed any age limit nor shoot below it.

        -I don’t care, just not that old.

        -Very well.

        He made some notes as if anything were conclusive up to this point. The coffee cooled in the little room. The traffic was quiet because of the blockade. The rain fell and made the rhythm.

        -I want to drive a Ferrari.

        -A Ferrari! Do you think we have a choice in that?

        -We have a choice in all stages of production.

        -That’s where you’re wrong. We can discuss anything we want but, I am sad to say, to get anything through will be one hell of a pain.

        -Then why bother?

        -You have made a point I wouldn’t touch with a sixty-inch pole.

        -Sorry. But I think I should be able to drive a Ferrari.

        -Hey, I’ll note it and ask for their consideration.

        He wrote down ‘Ferrari’ in his notebook as if it meant anything at all.

        -Fashion?

        -We can do our own tailoring. You’ll look as sharp as a knife. No; let’s talk about your income.

        -As of this moment, it is decreasing each month. Now it is about 50 grand a month.

        -You are paid in advance, remember that.

        -What? I am paid after the fact!

        -Listen, we can set you up and upholster your surroundings. We can borrow ten grand and give you fifty in return. All is square. Stop frowning, drink your coffee.

        -I have a little joke.

        -Is this a right time?

        -One orders a coffee. The waiter asks ‘French or Columbian’. One answers in reply, ‘Pre-Columbian’. Here is the punchline: after you wait for an hour the waiter comes to your table with what looks like a miniature totem pole and puts it down. From the top down run cracks and the side is stuffed with bird’s feathers. ‘Pre-Columbian’.

        -Yes, well I’ll call you up later about that Ferrari.

        -I want what I drive and I will drive.

        -What? I’ll see you later. The coffee was okay but next time make it Columbian.

        That is the punchline.

 

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