93 replies to this topic

[Joyce Carrington]

'Twas a very dark time. I really liked seeing this little bit as a reminder of how bad it can get.

[Qwerty]

Depressing, and attention-grabbing.

Keep it going Clink.

[terminus]

More of a concept I wanted to test out - a Bond novel in the style of Jane Austen. Here is the plot I came up with, may write the opening tonight and see where I get -



Jane Austen's JAMES BOND, 007
in THE UNDISCOVERED MORGUE

Plot:

A ship laden with goods from the colonies returns to Britian, but everyone on the ship is dead - this catches the attention of Sir Miles Tepid, the Head of the Secret Service who assigns his best man, James Bond, to investigate. Bond teams up with stunning frontier widow, Estella Muerte, and a mysterious Asian woman known simply as Dusk - travelling from Britain to the colonies of North America at a time of great turmoil, getting involved in a deadly game of politics and combating the mysterious Frenchman, Jean Luc Frontiere, who heads up the fur trade conglomerate known as Aslan.

[Joyce Carrington]

Alone soon

If she had been here longer, it wouldn

[ComplimentsOfSharky]

An enthralling little piece, Joyce. Very nice.

[Joyce Carrington]

Thanks.

Better than my last attempt at the fifteen minute challenge, anyway.

[AJ 009]

Fifteen Minutes of pure boredom

James Bond was bored. Very bored. So bored, in fact, that he decided to WRITE A BOOK under the name of Ian Fleming. So he did. But fifteen minutes wasn't enough. When he left MI6, he continued. And continued. And continued until his books were made into films. But what nobody knows is that ever word of every book and every action in every film is REAL. Yes. MI6 does exist. Yes, James Bond does exist. Yes, all those villains do exist. Yes, I am slightly drunk.

[clinkeroo]

Good to see this bumped, AJ. Always a lively thread, and it would be fun to read some of the newer voices taking a crack at the challenge.

[MHazard]

Scaramanga was dead, but so was Tracy. So was Quarrel and so was Kerim. Bond lit a cigarette and looked at Sir James Molony. Sir James had a notepad out. Rather than testing Bond's reflexes or other neurological signs he kept asking him how he felt about things. How Scaramanga's death made him feel. Feelings were dangerous territory. How do you feel was not a question he wanted to ask himself. After Tracy's death he'd had to learn not to feel. It was an act of will, not distraction. He knew M thought that the mission to Japan had pulled him out of the disaster that was his life at the time, but that wasn't the case. Certainly the thought of another chance, of doing something important gave him a purpose, but it was the decision not to be a mental cripple, not to feel, to deal with it later that gave him the means.

And now, after all that and all that followed, Sir James wanted to know how he felt. "I find it's better not to."

"Not to what?"

"Not to feel. It gets in the way, it doesn't lead to anything."

"Other than your wife have you ever felt a death."

"It's not something I allow myself." If this kept up Bond thought, he could be dulled, just as a knife blade can be ruined if scraped until dull. He could not afford to lose his edge.

"When you were a child, when your parents died..."

"Of course, like all children I cried, but I'm an adult now. I can't form attachments and I can't mourn the dead."

"How do you feel about your own death?"

"When I'm killed on assignment, I plan to have as little left in the bank as possible."

"That's all you feel about it?"

"If I started feeling, I couldn't do my job". I would just sit in the park, ignoring my page and getting others killed until I was fired. No, feelings were no damn good at all.

[My 15 minutes, next up]

[AJ 009]

Good to see this bumped, AJ. Always a lively thread, and it would be fun to read some of the newer voices taking a crack at the challenge.

Thanx, clinkeroo. I would have made it a bit larger, but I did it in exactly fifteen minutes, including the planning and the hiding my errors. Ah well, at least I reopened an old thread form 2 years back

[MHazard]

Doesn't anyone else dare to take the 15 minute challenge?

[echomusic]

OK, here it goes. No clue where this came from and no idea what it would lead to...
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MEMORIES OF THE NOW


The buzzing in her brain wouldn

Edited by echomusic, 14 December 2007 - 05:26 PM.

[MHazard]

Your piece is unfair. It actually has a plot as opposed to the unfocused mess I came up with.

[echomusic]

Your piece is unfair. It actually has a plot as opposed to the unfocused mess I came up with.

I shall promptly head to the punishment room for my lashings.....

[MHazard]

You understand the punishment room involves a wicker chair and a carpet beater?

[echomusic]

You understand the punishment room involves a wicker chair and a carpet beater?

Sounds like just another Friday night with me and the missus!

[Harry Fawkes]

I've only just come across this thread. Veeerrrrrry goooooood idea. Fifteen minutes to write a short Bond story. I am going to smoke a fag. Watch some T>V then come back and do mine. Lovely.

HF

[Binyamin]

The Zodiac had always made Bond nervous. It was a fine boat, he knew, and fast. Still, something about fighting the cruel ocean riding nothing but rubber and air left him unsettled. He had much experience on them, ramming them through the black waves during his Special Boat Service days. But if he had his way, every boat would have more than one engine... and a deck gun.

[Harry Fawkes]

So this is my take on the great man himself.

IAN FLEMING'S JAMES BOND 007 IN HARRY FAWKES'

NOBODY CHEATS DEATH

DEATH FOR BREAKFAST

The sea was warm and clear that morning. The silver grey stingray in front of him slowly fluttered away after about ten minutes just lying there, motionless, on the calm white sand.
The scuba diver watched it for a few moments longer then made for the coral reef for one last look before going up.
He floated as still as he could. He didn

[Binyamin]

Forgive me, Harry Fawkes... but was that fine story actually written in only fifteen minutes?

[Harry Fawkes]

I wish it was my friend but it took longer. Mind you I will get it down to that. Tomorrow I'll try and continue the next chapter. Fifteen minutes to die.

Harry.

I liked yours by the way. Fleming style I must say.

[Loomis]

Well, this one

[Harry Fawkes]

Ok folks here comes chapter two of my story. No I didn't do it in fifteen minutes unfortunately. I spent all night trying to figure out how but what the heck. Maybe someone'll enjoy it just the same.

NOBODY CHEATS DEATH

2

A TOUCH OF VIOLENCE

It was just after twelve noon when James Bond opened his eyes. It was pitch dark and there was a sharp pain at the back of his head. He tried to move but couldn

[Harry Fawkes]

I know I know. I'm a bloody pervert! Say it go on!

Harry

[Trident]

Some great entries! Really fine work!


Here's my go. Unfortunately it took me almost twice as long as required.


'You may find this a little bit uncomfortable.' the doctor said as he entered the lock for the heart catheter into Bond's jugular vein. The sharp sting of pain was indeed manageable but Bond asked himself once more why the hell he had agreed to act as test dummy for one of the MoD's less ludicrous inventions.

Helping test a drug that allowed for rapid surfacing of submarine crews and divers in case of emergency without the Caisson disease? When asked by Tanner he had of course envisioned a test at one of the Royal Navy's diver bases and happily agreed. A splendid chance to get away from Headquarters with its impossible amounts of paperwork littering his desk as well as from the ill temper of M.

Instead he found himself at the Navy's Medical Research Centre, a nondescript office building near Portsmouth. Yesterday evening he had learned, with some concern, that his test of the drug was to incorporate a heart catheter diagnosis while he had to inhale an aerosol of the drug.

And now he felt the thin fibre wire with a metallic sound going trough the airlock down his jugular, through his left and right heart chambers right into his lungs. While it wasn't accompanied with terribly much pain his heart skipped one or two beats and it was still an extremely uncomfortable feeling he wouldn't like to prolong any more than necessary. About 15 minutes the nurse from QARNNS had said. Well, he'd just have to bite his teeth and get this rubbish over with.

'You're still comfortable?' the nurse enquired.

She was a short squat battleaxe with the manners of a butcher and the ill-concealed contempt she probably felt for all her patients. Lying almost naked before her only wearing his briefs wasn't inclined to make Bond feel any better about the situation. But he would be dammed if he let this Rottweiler in a nurses dress notice any nervousness.

'I'm fine, thank you.' he answered in his best relaxed tone.

'So now please take this mask and inhale deeply.'

She handed him a device that looked like a gas mask with the mouth piece of a snorkel and was attached by a tube to some small valve in the wall above his head. Its straps fitted the mask tightly over Bond's mouth and nose. The air Bond breathed with it tasted absolutely neutral.

'Now we'll insert the aerosol. This will feel a little bit cold. Please breath on as regularly as you can manage.' the doctor informed him.

Nodding, Bond kept on breathing deep and regularly. Suddenly he felt a freezing cold rush into his lungs. But after two or three breaths he got accustomed to the coldness.

The nurse came into view once more looking at the valve in the wall.

'Very well, and now please inhale deeply and hold your breath.'

He did as he was told. How long would he be able to hold his breath? With a rueful thought he remembered too many cigarettes and drinks in the last few months. Well, he'd do his best. To hell with RN research if it wasn't good enough for them.

But, to his surprise, he seemed to do rather well. As the seconds ticked by he felt quite comfortable. Now it must be surely more than a minute, yet he felt no urge to exhale.

In fact he didn't feel any need to breath whatsoever. This was beginning to get ridiculous. His personal pride was sufficiently satisfied now. He'd just give up now. He must be close to two minutes now

He tried to exhale but found that his lungs seemed as if they couldn't let go of the air. Instead they seemed to expand more and more.



Suddenly Bond felt a wave of panic rush into his system. Why couldn

[Trident]

@Harry

Very interesting. Keep it up and do a whole length story in the fanfic department. Would be a shame to let your girls hanging there, wouldn't it?


@Loomis

Fan-tas-tic!

Really fun and a nice idea to have Bond thinking 'Dear dairy!'. I'd have thought Bond would only share his thoughts and adventures with the bottom of a whisky bottle and a barkeeper. And afterwards smash the bottle to cut the bartenders throat with the bottleneck if any classified information was uncovered. Splendid!

[Harry Fawkes]

Ok here it is my take on a James Bond torture scene. I've done the sex now I'm down to the cruel stuff and I'm sure Mr Fleming would've been proud. Most of what I describe is of course inspired by his work but I'm sure you all know that. Anyway, here it goes and enjoy

NOBODY CHEATS DEATH

3

THE EXPERIENCE OF PAIN

James Bond's wrists and ankles hurt. He tried to keep his mind off the pain by turning his thoughts to those of escape but the million pound question was how? He couldn

[Harry Fawkes]

[quote name='Trident' post='811330' date='22 December 2007 - 16:45']Some great entries! Really fine work!


Here's my go. Unfortunately it took me almost twice as long as required.


'You may find this a little bit uncomfortable.' the doctor said as he entered the lock for the heart catheter into Bond's jugular vein. The sharp sting of pain was indeed manageable but Bond asked himself once more why the hell he had agreed to act as test dummy for one of the MoD's less ludicrous inventions.

Helping test a drug that allowed for rapid surfacing of submarine crews and divers in case of emergency without the Caisson disease? When asked by Tanner he had of course envisioned a test at one of the Royal Navy's diver bases and happily agreed. A splendid chance to get away from Headquarters with its impossible amounts of paperwork littering his desk as well as from the ill temper of M.

Instead he found himself at the Navy's Medical Research Centre, a nondescript office building near Portsmouth. Yesterday evening he had learned, with some concern, that his test of the drug was to incorporate a heart catheter diagnosis while he had to inhale an aerosol of the drug.

And now he felt the thin fibre wire with a metallic sound going trough the airlock down his jugular, through his left and right heart chambers right into his lungs. While it wasn't accompanied with terribly much pain his heart skipped one or two beats and it was still an extremely uncomfortable feeling he wouldn't like to prolong any more than necessary. About 15 minutes the nurse from QARNNS had said. Well, he'd just have to bite his teeth and get this rubbish over with.

'You're still comfortable?' the nurse enquired.

She was a short squat battleaxe with the manners of a butcher and the ill-concealed contempt she probably felt for all her patients. Lying almost naked before her only wearing his briefs wasn't inclined to make Bond feel any better about the situation. But he would be dammed if he let this Rottweiler in a nurses dress notice any nervousness.

'I'm fine, thank you.' he answered in his best relaxed tone.

'So now please take this mask and inhale deeply.'

She handed him a device that looked like a gas mask with the mouth piece of a snorkel and was attached by a tube to some small valve in the wall above his head. Its straps fitted the mask tightly over Bond's mouth and nose. The air Bond breathed with it tasted absolutely neutral.

'Now we'll insert the aerosol. This will feel a little bit cold. Please breath on as regularly as you can manage.' the doctor informed him.

Nodding, Bond kept on breathing deep and regularly. Suddenly he felt a freezing cold rush into his lungs. But after two or three breaths he got accustomed to the coldness.

The nurse came into view once more looking at the valve in the wall.

'Very well, and now please inhale deeply and hold your breath.'

He did as he was told. How long would he be able to hold his breath? With a rueful thought he remembered too many cigarettes and drinks in the last few months. Well, he'd do his best. To hell with RN research if it wasn't good enough for them.

But, to his surprise, he seemed to do rather well. As the seconds ticked by he felt quite comfortable. Now it must be surely more than a minute, yet he felt no urge to exhale.

In fact he didn't feel any need to breath whatsoever. This was beginning to get ridiculous. His personal pride was sufficiently satisfied now. He'd just give up now. He must be close to two minutes now

He tried to exhale but found that his lungs seemed as if they couldn't let go of the air. Instead they seemed to expand more and more.



Suddenly Bond felt a wave of panic rush into his system. Why couldn

[Harry Fawkes]

[quote name='Harry Fawkes' post='811560' date='23 December 2007 - 09:19']Ok here it is my take on a James Bond torture scene. I've done the sex now I'm down to the cruel stuff and I'm sure Mr Fleming would've been proud. Most of what I describe is of course inspired by his work but I'm sure you all know that. Anyway, here it goes and enjoy

NOBODY CHEATS DEATH

3

THE EXPERIENCE OF PAIN

James Bond's wrists and ankles hurt. He tried to keep his mind off the pain by turning his thoughts to those of escape but the million pound question was how? He couldn

[Harry Fawkes]

Chapter III continued. I have now figured out how Bond escapes. Read on and enjoy.

NOBODY CHEATS DEATH

...The