JAMES BOND'S cold grey eyes gazed unblinkingly straight ahead, even as the room echoed to the sound of explosions; Rockets firing and the so familiar sound of machine gun fire."Thunderbirds". Bond hissed impatiently through tightly clenched teeth and pressed the cold plastic button on the Sky T.v remote control. He'd seen this one, where Thunderbird 3 has to rescue a ship which is flying straight at the sun. He turned through the channels from the Sci-Fi channel to the ridiculosly named 'Dave' channel where the new Aston Martin DB9 was being reviewed by Jeremy Clarkson on 'Top Gear'. Bond was a little irritated that this 'so-called' expert who never made any mention of the cars inbuilt armoury of twin Vickers machine guns:Rocket launchers or ,even ejector seat.
Bond took a bite of his toasted Wharburtons bread; Buttered with 'I can't believe it's not butter', using the clean side of the knife. Sipped at his Yorkshire tea made with 30 second boiled warrington tap water and 2 heaped spoons of sugar. He opened his sealed orders from 'L'. He had to hoover the living room and clean the kitchen; Walk the dogs and pick 'the little 'un 'up from school. Bond swore. It had been almost a fortnight since his last adventure when he had to travel the world; Bed beautiful women and commit various acts of mass destruction, murder and genocide, all washed down with a fine wine and dinner. It was his own fault, he had to admit if he was honest with himself. Bond had began to wonder if he'd had enough of the constant danger and always having to be' on the edge'. He had said, at one point that he needed ,just a, Quantum of Solace". A tiny piece of peace and quiet. Then those filmpeople that lived their life making films about him pounced on the phrase and were due to make another killing with yet another film about his killings.
Tim Leatherbarrow, cartoonist and would be agent, spy and goverment 'blunt tool'. said that if he wanted a Quantum of solace, he's got buckets of solace. He had so much peace n' quiet he didn't know what to do with it. So, if Bond wanted some of that he could help himself. So Tim is off somewhere causing untold destruction murder n' mayhem.The dinner suits a little loose on his small but perfectly formed frame; He's got to watch it with the ladies as 'L', The lovely Lynne'd kill him; And, he's got to take it a little easier on the 'pop, due to medical reasons. So, it's down to destruction and food, for agent00.7, (Decimal fraction of 007!). Bond sighed and plugged in the triple suction, ball roller Dyson hoover to make a start on the living room carpet, "Damn", he snarled to himself. As the Dyson started pulling at the carpet fibres,and a page of the Warrington Guardian wrapped around the hoovers front roller.