At 6:15 this morning, I thought of James Bond. Actually, I was swimming in our pool (and freezing), and then the giant inflatable dolphin scared me so I had to toss it from the pool. Which made me think of that one James Bond movie where he swims underwater and there's some scene with a diver and maybe someone gets stabbed? IDK. But anyway, that led me to wondering who would play the next Bond. There's been a lot of debate over that, at least according to Yahoo News. And Twitter. So you know, it's legit.
And I got to thinking. What if the new 007 had a new secretary? A sort of flakier, think-she's-still-youngish-but-isn't-really, doesn't-quite-have-her-s***t-together Moneypenney. Let's call her NickelSlots.
And they have a thing -- because of course they do. He's a super cool spy, she's a hot mess. It's a Moonlighting meets Remington Steele meets Bridget Jonesian sort of thing.
And then, naturally, I had to play out the scene in my head.
JB (Strides into room, flicks invisible fleck of dust from impeccably tailored suit and perches on desk). Addresses secretary: NickelSlots,you ravishing creature, did you miss me?
NS (looks up, stashes magazine surreptitiously in trash can): "What? Oh, hey 7. S'up?"
JB: NickelSlots, I asked if you missed me!
NS: Um, yeah! Of course. I mean, obviously I missed you. Wait, did you go somewhere?
JB (to himself): It's like why did I even come back? Yes, I went somewhere. A little place called the Middle East.
NS: Did you have a good trip?
JB: A good trip? I fought ISIS, NickelSlots.
NS: Oh right. So, not good then?
JB: NickelSlots, don't be such a tease. Fetch me a drink. You know the way I like it, shaken, not stirred.
NS: Oh. So about that. The vodka's gone.
JB: What do you mean? Where did it go?
NS: I took it to book club.
JB: You took vodka to a book club?
JB: Why do you drink at a book club?
NS: Why would you NOT drink at a book club?
JB (sighs): NickelSlots, do you have anything to drink?
NS: Yeah. Hold on. Want some wine? (Holds up bottle of Yellow Tail Chardonnay).
JB (disgustedly): Oh. Fine. Do you have anything to eat with that?
JB: Nickel, really. Haven't you any Cheez-its, at least?
NS: Please. You know Cheez-its go straight to my hips.
JB: Oh, yes, let's talk about your hips.
NS: Let's not. Actually, let's talk about your expense report.
NS (fiddles with drawer, brings out receipt): So says here you wrecked an Asto-something?
JB: An Aston Martin, NickelSlots. A very nice car.
NS: Yeah, well I don't care if it was Ashton Kutchner, this bill's like $200 grand. What the hell?
JB: Let me explain.
NS: Hold up, hold up, I'ma let you finish. But first? Explain this (holds up photo of attractive blonde).
JB. Oh. That.
JB: That's Svetlana Oblisky. KGB.
NS: KGB my ass. Svetlana rides the pole at Babydolls, doesn't she?
JB (leering): when am I going to ride your pole, NickelSlots?
NS: Soon as you pay me back all the singles from petty cash. I make $50K and you get your salary in, like, gold bars or something.
JB: NickelSlots, you know I'll always take care of you.
NS: Take care of your s*** . The rest of us have to pay for stuff, you know. Even the queen pays taxes.
JB: Royal family stalking again, are we?
NS: I don't know what you're talking about.
JB: What's that magazine you're trying to hide in the dustbin, Nickels?
NS: What magazine? There's no magazine.
JB: Prince Harry's on the cover of OK! again, isn't he?
NS: Shut up. No. I don't even read that. Also? Prince Harry was on the cover last week.
JB: Aha. I know you too well, NickelSlots. When are we going to do this?
NS: Do what?
JB: Us. You and me. Man and woman. The beast with two backs.
NS: British guys are so polite. It's like you can't even be crude without quoting a 16th century playwright.
JB: Oh, you slay me. Answer me, Nicks. When are we going to face the inevitable and give in to our baser natures?
NS: Right now.
JB (loosens tie): Oh NickelSlots.
NS: Nice tie. Is that gray?
JB: Fifty shades of it, darling.
NS: I love it when you street talk me, 007. Open my desk drawer.
JB: Oooh, yes. What's in here? Toys? Whips?
JB: Now you've aroused my curiosity. What could be better? Handcuffs? (Peers in drawer)
NS: You'll see.
JB: Oh, NickelSlots.
NS: Oh, James.
JB: Are those what I think they are?
NS: Yes they are.
JN: I love it when you're naughty, Nicks.
NS: Bust out the Cheez-its, 007. I snack hardcore.