Tommy's Cold War Diaries
Chubby Broccoli Productions Inc.
The declassified adventures of agent 007 and a half gills. A New York Tims Exclusive. We promise. Really we do. Cross our hearts and hope to die (he has a license to kill after all).
October 15th 1962, Montego Bay. The Cuban Missile Crisis is well underway. In today's news it is revealed that a U2 spy plane has detected Soviet missile construction at the naval base of San Cristobal. I thought that was pretty interesting since Bono was only two years old but has already written some potential hits including "Nobody knows what I'm on about", "Where my feet have no name" and the potential classic, " Monday effing Monday".
MI6 is on the case and has dispatched me, agent 007 and a half gills, Commander Sir Thomas Kelly Donnelly, code name Bond, Bail Bond, to disrupt the Soviet plans. Easier said than done. Miss Spendapenny was none too pleased that I was already in theatre operations with my long term associate Frauline Von Tim Trappen, operating under the code name Arsella Undress.
Miss Spendapenny has fancied me for a long time. Its a pity the old slut is an ugly boot, but she controls the expense account so I try to keep her happy. You never know when you need a 100,000 Pounds cash advance for a poker game with an international criminal in Monaco. She makes sure I don't get audited as well, which is a good thing.
The Frauline and I had hoped to grab a quiet weekend in Jamaica sampling Red Stripe and the funny smoky stuff they use to stun chickens and encourage Reggae music. No such luck.
While we were relaxing on a raft in the bay (actually I was quietly trying to get the Celtic game on shortwave while the Frauline swam off to indulge herself in a calming afternoon of Tiger Shark tooth picking), I received a coded message from MI6. M&M had a mission for me.
Apparently the Cuban Missile crisis has taken a turn for the worse. Nikita Krushchev has responded to JFK's ultimatum. Kennedy demanded that Kruschev turn the missile ships around. The Soviet Premier responded by removing his shoe at a meeting of the Security Council of The United Nations causing a major international incident. On a point of principal, Kruschev had not changed his socks since his stint as Political Commissar during the battle of Stalingrad. The meeting was adjourned forthwith and mid town Manhattan evacuated for enforced fumigation.
The Frauline looks not bad in that skimpy bikini. I am going to try it on later.
My mission was troubling. Intelligence has been recieved that the local drug lord in Jamaica, Yommama Bin Liner, is involved in all of this. Furthermore, he has been spotted by the CIA agent, Felix Lighter, huddling with the President of the local Rangers Supporters Club, Billy Redhand, in Bob Marley's Auntie's garden shed in Kingston. Bin Liner is suspected of communicating navigation charts to the Soviet Navy and supplying them with a cargo of Playboy magazines featuring Olga the European Black Bear as centerfold.
Bin Liner and Redhand are operating with impunity. Not knowing what impunity is I am going to put a stop to it anyway. No Woman no Hun will be my motto.
The Frauline returned and we made our plans. They were temporarily put on hold. We received another coded message that complicated our lives and further exacerbated the crisis. The now demented Winston Churchill once again escaped from his old folks home and stowed himself away in an Aeroflot vodka transport to Moscow. Completely in his element, old Winnie downed five crates of Leningrad grade 1 grain vodka followed by four jars of Beluga caviar. Beluga caviar being salty by nature, the old bulldog quenched his thirst by syphoning off the hydraulic fluid from the Illushyn 134's landing gear. Upon approach to Moscow, the plane's undercarriage collapsed followed by Winston's. The aircraft and all aboard finished up in the Muscovy river.
Fortunately, there were no fatalities. Winston however, was later found floating in the river hermetically sealed to a Smirnoff bottle and a packet of dried borsch soup. Kruschev personally greeted him on land fall and asked him for J. Edgar Hoover's phone number since he thought exchanging fashion notes might be a good prelude to all out nuclear war. Winston agreed and passed out pending cryogenic freezing which fortunately had not yet been perfected.
The Frauline and I put this diversion behind us. I took a quick look at her behind. The view hardened up my resolve. We hadn't even moved onto the blue pills yet. But my resolve stayed hard for a while.
We would sneak into Bin Liner's underground lair, use Arsella Undress' ample charms to distract Redhand, strangle his cat for a laugh and then boot Bin Liner in the hee haws. Then we would hack into Bin Liner's computer, access The Archers on The BBC World Service and disrupt the Soviets' communication channels. First we would have to clear this with MI6 and the White House.
M&M approved. Furthermore he promised me a bonus if I could finally get Winston Churchill confined to a Gulag in Siberia. Unfortunately the old drunkard was now hunkered back in his bunker in the Fullers Brewery in Fulham having been escorted from the Soviet Union by a squadren of Migs and The Red Army Choir. We will return to Winnie in a later chapter.
Back in the USA things were looking bleak. John F. Kennedy convened a meeting of Bobby's mid life crisis response team and explained this was a crisis of crisis proportions. In fact it was the biggest crisis since Marylin Monroe got drunk and sang Happy Birthday Mr President in her most sultry voice in Jackie Kennedy's ear at a Presidential Barbecue.
Kennedy realized that this was almost as big a crisis, since a a ballistic rocket launched from Cuba would take only 10 minutes to reach the Eastern Seaboard. Furthermore a 14 megaton hydrogen bomb could do untold damage to the environment.
That said if it landed on Hartford, Connecticut it would actually be a good thing. Realizing the extent of the problem, the midlife crisis response team decided to watch re-runs of Rawhide instead.
The Frauline and I were ready. Disguised as a Red Stripe bottle and a Bob Marley haircut we blended into the Jamaica scenery and sneaked up on Bin Liner's underground lair. We were briefly waylaid by a beach vendor trying to sell us a blanket, a wooden bird and a packet of funny smelling plants.
We refused the blanket, which was not much use in 120 farenheit heat. We took the wooden bird since the Frauline thought it would be nice on her mantlepiece in Bavaria. We thought the funny smelling plants would be useful since the sixties were generally messed up anyway.
All hell broke loose..Redhand had spotted us from his spy satellite orbiting above Govan and we were immediately surrounded by his crack security detail. Pygmies. I hate Pygmies. These little guys are a nuisance. They all look like Nacho Novo with a sun tan. I tried to point my trusty Baretta 9 and a half inch (Barchester Model) in their direction. Unfortunately some earlier fun with the Frauline had rendered that temporarily inoperable.
The Frauline on her part fared better. She took out two of the pygmies with a well aimed swing of her best Arsella Undress assets. She then grabbed one by the scruff of his neck and cracked him on the head with the Conch Shell she always seemed to be carrying. I watched in amazement as she steamrolled the little guys and took pictures. Will make a nice scrapbook.
Inevitably though, we were overpowered by sheer scale of numbers. The game was up. 4-0 to the Pygmies. Before we knew it we were tied up inside Bin Liner's underground fortress.
Being tied up with the Frauline had never been a problem in the past except for the time we went undercover in Vladivostock and tried out a local party game involving a Siberian Yak, a wet suit and a bucket of axle grease. Spendapenny somehow acquired photos of that which is another reason why I always bring her souvenirs from trips abroad. One of these days I will bring her a souvenir that doesn't involve treatment in a clinic best entered in disguise.
Bin Liner showed up. "Well Mr. Bond, welcome to my underground fortress" he declared. I'd heard that one a few times. To our surprise Bin Liner released us and presented us with evening wear. "Dinner is served at 7:00 p.m. prompt". We were to be the entertainment at a dinner party planned to celebrate Yomamma Bin Liner's upcoming alliance with the Soviets. I looked at the menu, post match entertainment was, in fact us; fed to the sharks in a tank in the main dining room. Nice.
Fortunately, I had a plan. Before leaving for Jamaica, MI6 master inventor, Q-Tip, supplied me with a box of tricks, conveniently disgused as the box of matches I carry in case I have to blow something up. The Frauline was pretty good at blowing things. Inside was a set of exploding Tic Tacs and one of those dinosaur foam things that expand when put in contact with water. "We will see about your plans Bin Liner, I thought".
7:00 p.m. came and drinks were ordered. The Frauline, back in the role of Arsella Undress, ordered a Red Stripe. I stuck to my usual. Buckfast Martini. Nuts crushed not broken. shoogled not stirred. And a bag of cheese and onion crisps please.
Bin Liner gloated " You are not here to drink Mr. Bond, you are here to die". Before disposing of us, Bin Liner wanted to show us how his advanced communication system was helping the Soviets navigate the embargo around Cuba. Impressive, but I had the answer. First I asked if I could feed the sharks.
This was my chance. Before Redhand or Bin Liner could react I grabbed one of the pygmies who were now acting as waiters and chucked him into the shark tank. Quick as a flash, the sharks were on him. The desired effect was achieved. The sharks were now in a feeding frenzy.
Then, I deployed the foam dinosaur. The dinosaur expanded in the tank, the tank expoded and three Great White sharks came sliding along the floor heading straight for Billy Redhand and Yomamma. I pulled Yomamma out of the jaws of the first snapping shark. He thanked me in the name of Wattie. I promptly administered the planned boot in the hee haws and fed him back to the shark.
The Frauline was busy as well. While Redhand cowered in a corner, the Frauline wired the communication board with the exploding Tic Tacs. The place was set to blow. Then she strangled the cat. I confronted Redhand. "You'll never get away with this Redhand" (I get the most original lines you see). Then I fed him to the shark as well. Good riddance.
Things happened fast after that. We managed to escape through a vent and made it out into the lagoon where we found a motor boat with its keys conveniently left in the ignition. As we sped away from the island that housed Bin Liner's underground lair, Q-Tip's Tic Tacs ignited.
It's usually the earth that moves for the Frauline, but this time we were battered by waves but survived to live another adventure. The Frauline lost her skimpy bikini in the blast but she wasn't going to need it anyway till the rescuers arrived...
John F. Kennedy was woken up abruptly by the news. Thinking Jackie had rumbled him again, he kicked the stripper from The Bronx into the closet and headed straight for his bathrobe. Bobby was on the phone. JFK listened in amazement to the reports that the Soviet Navy was sailing around in circles to the south of Cuba, apparently with their navigational systems disrupted.
It would take them a few days at least to reset course, which gave the Kennedy administration more time to formulate a diplomatic solution and get JFK out of trouble with Jackie and the stripper from The Bronx. Not to mention the lady who runs the White House cafeteteria, the woman who manages the Presidential Library and the in-built multi vac system at 100 Pennsylvania Avenue that the President had become very friendly with.
Apparently this was all the work of a skilled British secret agent. The White House conceded it could only be one man. Commander Sir Tomas Kelly Donnelly, agent 007 and a half gills, Bond, Bail Bond.
The adventure continues..
and a half gills
Frauline Von Tim Trappen in her guise as agent Arsella Undress
Agent 007 and a half gills in practice for his 18th hole of the day
Episode 1. Dr. Naw
Arsella Undress demonstrates four fold balance techniques to agent 007 and a half gills.
President of The Kingston Lodge Rangers Supporters Club 202 chapter, Billy Redhand,
From Wishaw With Love
Coming soon. The true story of how Commander Sir Thomas Kelly Donnelly, agent 007 and a half gills uncovered a Soviet cell operating out of the West End Bar in Wishaw. The notorious KGB underground operation "Smashed" had a key role in the Cuban missile crisis under the leadership of the evil Rosa Cludge.
The New York Tims has uncovered startling evidence of blackmail and betrayal behind the scenes in MI6. This is not to be missed.
Only on www.nyceltic.com.