After rave reviews (not really, but I did get a couple) of my previous work, "The Twelve Days of Christmas," I decided to continue. *sighs* This is why you don't go on a sugar high, kiddies. Anyway, this can stand alone, but it's a part of my MI6 Carols series, so you might want to read the other one first for some background. Bon appétit!
(Camera flashes. ALEX and YASSEN blink.)
JOHN: Aha! Now we're even, Yassen.
ALEX: (confused) What's he talking about?
YASSEN: (sighs) Well, it all started a long time ago…
(Lights dim. Spotlight on YASSEN and JOHN.)
JOHN: (Begins to sing in a fine, rich baritone.)
Dashing through the snow,
Running for our lives,
Over the ridge we go,
Avoiding thrown knives,
Shots from rifles sound,
It's all rather tense,
I didn't mean to scare that hound,
And now we're on defence!
BOTH:Oh, jingle bells, shotgun shells,
Echo through the night,
We're chased by German rebels,
Please save us from our plight!
Oh, jingle bells, shotgun shells,
Echo through the night,
We're chased by German rebels,
Please save us from our plight!
YASSEN: A day or two ago,
Blunt gave us a mission,
We had to overthrow,
An evil politician,
All was going well,
Finished and unhurt,
But then John went and tripped and fell,
And made the hounds alert!
BOTH:Oh, jingle bells, shotgun shells,
Echo through the night,
We're chased by German rebels,
Please save us from our plight!
Oh, jingle bells, shotgun shells,
Echo through the night,
We're chased by German rebels,
Please save us from our plight!
JOHN: So basically, I completely messed up this mission. Yassen's never let me live it down. Come to think of it, there was this one time that 007 messed up as well…
HELEN: Honestly John, do you never stop squirreling away information to blackmail people with? You promised you wouldn't do it anymore.
YASSEN: I must say, I wholeheartedly concur with Helen. The wife's always right, partner. Eh? Eh? (mumbles) And you're quite the idiot for even wanting to get married to that harpy.
HELEN: Yassen Gregorovich! You take that back right this instant.
ALEX: Mum?
HELEN: Yes dear?
ALEX: It's Christmas Eve. I'm sure you can give Yassen his present tomorrow.
HELEN: What? (Comprehension dawns.) Oh, I see. (Grins evilly.) Alex is right, I'm afraid. You'll just have to wait until tomorrow to get your lovely black eye.
(YASSEN cowers.)
JOHN: Now, now, Helen. Do you remember what we talked about?
HELEN: Fine, fine. No misplaced aggression. But this isn't misplaced! It's directed at the right person. You know, the annoying partner of yours, whats-his-name. Yoff-yoff? Yugle? Yosefina?
(ALEX and 007 stifle laughter. BLUNT and MRS. JONES shake heads.)
YASSEN: That's it! I'm not putting up with that – that hellcat you call a wife any more, you hear? I quit.
ALEX: But don't you work for Scorpia?
JULIA ROTHMAN: Yes, yes. I'm awaiting your reply, hmm?
YASSEN: (Glances around nervously.) Okay, so maybe I was a double agent like Johnny over here. And, hypothetically speaking, let's suppose I work for MI6 and feed them information. (hastily) But of course, I really work for Scorpia.
(007 and ASH have to restrain JULIA ROTHMAN from clawing YASSEN's eyes out.)
007: Wait a minute. You two are wanted criminals in seven continents.
ASH: (dryly) I wasn't aware I had done anything in Antarctica.
007: Shut it! (Pulls out rope from his never-ending pockets and proceed to tie ASH and JULIA ROTHMAN up.) I've done it again. Call Ian Fleming and have him publish this as another fictional novel.
SABINA: You idiot. Ian Fleming died in 1964.
007: (disheartened) But what will I do now? I have no reason to continue spying if the world will not know of my adventures.
YASSEN: (Rolls eyes.) Oh, whatever will you do? I'm certain the rest of us are all dead, seeing as we do not have personal biographers.
HELEN: (Elbows YASSEN.) Be nice now. The poor man's going through a mid-life crisis.
007: (indignant) What? I'll have you know, madam, regardless of my age, I'm still as godlike as ever. Not to mention modest, too.
(YASSEN, ALEX, and JOHN snort.)
Finite