"What's the matter, James? No glib comment, no pithy remark?" Bond the younger jeered.
"Here's a glib remark: YOU'RE GAY!" Bond the elder screamed back, taking a pot-shot at the opposing agent.
(Boy, I can't wait to finish this fic, since it means I don't have to write anymore tedious "This is Bond A, this is Bond B" descriptive tags.)
Suddenly, Mr. Wynt and Mr. Kidd burst into the stairwell. "Here's a glib remark, Mr. Kidd," Mr. Wynt said.
"Oh, I love glib remarks, Mr. Wynt," Mr. Kidd cooed.
"You're James Bond!"
Both Bonds looked confused. "Why are you saying 'You're James Bond'?" James asked.
An ersatz look of surprise emerged on Mr. Wynt's face. "Surely you know! Whenever something is stupid or unfortunate, you say, 'That's so James Bond'!"
The two Bonds exchanged a look, then filled Mr. Wynt and Mr. Kidd with lead.
"This has been...brought to you...by the Ad Council..." Mr. Kidd choked out with his last breath.
Bond and Bond, grinning with self-satisfaction, turned and realized that their foe was standing right there. They both pointed their Walthers at the other, but didn't pull the trigger.
"You're empty," Blonde Bond pointed out.
"So're you," Brunette Bond rejoined.
The blue-eyed wonder cracked his neck and entered a traditional fighting stance.
Bond classic, however, started waving his arms up and down, shouting "Hi-yaaah!" over and over again.
"What...the bloody hell are you doing?" Blonde Bond asked.
"Uh...kung-fu-rate?" James said.
"Oh, bugger this," Bad Bond said, and proceeded to grab Bond by his nose.
"OW! By DOSE!" James protested.
The villain of this piece pulled James by his nose into the wall behind him, punching him in the back several times for good measure. James propelled himself backwards, slamming the other man's back against the other wall. He followed that up with a headbutt, causing blood to pour out the 00 agent's nose, and slammed both elbows into the man's ribs, causing him to cough out in pain.
James turned and began pummeling his opposite number, unleashing all the hatred and frustration that had been building up in him ever since he had lost his beloved Bess the 13th...losing to this genetic construct...London being bombed and occupied...and then, the death of Mason, the very first Bond.
Finally, blood running freely down his face, the younger Bond looked up, panting, and asked, "Is that the best you can do?" He started laughing. "I mean it, was that the very best you could come up with? I'm pretty sure my mother hits harder than you do!" At that, he suddenly got a distant look in his eye, as he recalled his horrifying years of abuse at the hands of his parents. He shook himself out of it, though. "Do you have any last words before I proceed to beat you to death?"
James thought very carefully. Finally, he came up with a solution: "I challenge you to a hand of bacarrat --"
"Don't know that game."
James stared at the other Bond, dumbfounded. "You don't know bacarrat?"
"Nope. Don't want to, either."
The look on James' face was somewhere between disgust and horror. "How...HOW can you call yourself JAMES BOND and not know how to play BACARRAT?!"
"It's easy: Bacarrat is for fags."
The ghosts of Mr. Wynt and Mr. Kidd walked through the wall. Before they could speak, however, Blonde Bond expended no effort to kill the ghosts, sending them to Double Hell.
"Oh really. If bacarrat is for persons of the homosexual persuasion, what do you play?"
"Poker."
"Poker? FUCKING POKER? Why don't you just become an AMERICAN CITIZEN?" James screeched.
The fiend smirked. "I might just do that."
"Fine, then. I challenge you to a single hand of POKER, which I'll kick your ASS AT."
Bond bowed. "I accept."
XXXX
The two Bonds sat opposite each other, at the high-stakes table in the Whyte House's casino. The rest of the Krew, apprehensive, looked on. (Kail and Smiley were still using wet-wipes to clean off the blood the girls had smeared all over their clothes).
"Gentlemen, there will be one hand of poker, with the stakes being the fate of the world. No buy-ins, ante ups, or other poker lingo that makes you sound fancy," the dealer said, then dealt five cards to each of the Bonds.
The good James examined his hand. He had a ten, jack, queen, king, and ace of spades. He nervously peered over at the Blonde Bond and wondered what kind of hand he had. He wasn't even sure this hand was good. In fact, every second he grew more and more nervous. Soon, he was near hyperventilating, and the other Bond was chuckling into his cards.
"Cards, gentlemen?" the dealer asked.
"Two," Blonde Bond said, removing two cards from his hand and taking two more from the dealer.
"...TWENTY!" James declared, slapping his hand down on the table.
"...Sir, you may only take five cards," the dealer explained.
"...Oh. Well, then five." James looked at his new cards. A two of hearts, a four of clubs, a six of spades, an eight of diamonds, and a ten of smiley faces.
...Wait, smiley faces? Weren't there only four suits in a deck of cards? James shrugged and figured it was an American thing.
"Lay your cards down, gentlemen," the dealer instructed. 007 laid down a five, six, seven, eight, and nine of hearts. "Flush," the dealer called. "Mr. Bond? Your hand?"
Bond triumphantly laid down his hand, except for the two. "Uno!" he declared.
Impatient, the dealer plucked the remaining card out of James' hand and laid it onto the table. "Mr. Bond wins."
James jumped up, cheering. "I won! I won! I won!"
"No, the other Bond. The man with blonde hair," the dealer explained.
"...Oh." James grew very sad.
The Krew looked on in shock. James...had lost?! The world was doomed?!
007, victorious, strode up to James. "No hard feelings, chap," he said, extending his hand. "Better luck next time, eh? Oh wait, except there won't be a next time since I'm going to kill you now. Any last words?"
James nodded. "Die," he said, and shot a sword out of his mouth that impaled the other Bond through his chest.
The Blonde Bond looked down at the sword now skewering him, and looked up at his nemesis. "Not...bad..." he said, and sank to his knees.
James grabbed the sword by the hilt, twisted it, and then yanked it out, ripping out his foe's intestines in the process.
"You think this ends here?" the young Bond rasped. "It doesn't!"
"It does for you," James said coldly, and with one swipe parted 007's head from his shoulders.
The impostor Bond was dead. Long live James Bond.
"...Did you guys just fucking see that?" Smiley asked increduously.
"That BASTARD stole that from MY FIC!" Kail yelled.
Pussy and Irennie were making googly-eyes at the sole remaining Bond, though. "I dunno," Irennie said. "A man who can take a two-foot long blade down his throat...has possibilities," she winked.
XXXX
M looked wistfully out the window of her new office, in the newly-constructed headquarters of MI-6. After the rogue Bond had been slain, the world's governments had quickly come to its senses and signed peace treaties with the United Kingdom, sending billions in aid to those who had died or lost property. She was kept up all hours of the night by all the damned construction, though.
Bond was debriefing her on the final showdown at the Whyte House. She wasn't paying very much attention, though; she didn't even notice when James went off into a five-minute tangent on how he hoped the other Bond suffered in hell forever for not liking bacarrat.
M interrupted him. "Bond...just before Mason died, did he say anything?"
"Well, he said something about his son George, and gave his regards to Pussy Jr. and Irennie."
"Anything...else?" M prompted.
James thought a moment. "Ah! He said he wanted to pass a message along to Pussy Senior. Something about he loved...he never got a chance to say WHAT he loved, actually." James rubbed his chin. "Pie. He probably said he loved pie. Because who doesn't?" James frowned. "Why would he want Pussy Senior to know that he loved pie, though? I guess we'll never know." James stood up and left M with her thoughts.
She stared out of the window again, watching the River Thames flow gently past, watching the rebuilding of Big Ben and Parliament.
She finally turned away, and moved a wall-mounted painting to reveal a safe underneath. Keying in the code, she opened it and removed a pink card from inside, a little dry with age.
On it was a heart with a face. Surrounding it were the words "I raped you...into loving me, valentine!"
M turned the card around. On the other side, it read, "To my favorite leshbian turned shex partner: I love you (inashmuch ash I love any woman). Shigned, Jamesh Bond."
Tears began to roll down M's cheeks. "I love you too, James."
Her phone began to ring, and she wiped her tears as she answered it. "Hello? Yes, Bond took him out, just as you suggested. It wasn't easy, though...and we'll be coming after you now. You ARE responsible for all terrorism in the world, you know." M hung up.
Moneypenny poked her head in the door. "The ceremony will be starting soon!"
XXXX
A crowd of tens of thousands were gathered at Buckingham Palace to watch the knighting ceremony. Everybody in the Krew was to be knighted for their effort in saving the world from the menace of Blofeld, Whyte, and Bond.
Just moments before the ceremony was to begin, however, M noticed two people missing from the lineup. "James, where in the name of Jesus Tittyfucking Christ are Smiley and Pussy?" she asked Bond.
"Hmm...I dunno, M. I think I overheard him saying something about having to puck fussy. I don't know what he was talking about, really."
M stared at Bond coldly for a minute. "Forget it, they can miss their knighting!" she declared.
"Everybody, please rise for the national anthem!" the master of ceremonies declared.
The Spice Girls came out on stage, wearing Union Jack-design dresses. "GIRL POWAH!" they shouted in unison, causing the massive crowd to cheer.
Before they could start singing, however, Posh Spice tripped and broke into a thousand pieces, sending the microphone hurtling under the stage.
As the remaining Spice Girls began hunting for superglue to glue Posh back together, the speakers broadcasting live around the world began to emit words.
"Oh yes, Remington Smiley! I, Pussy Galore Junior, am rather thoroughly enjoying this, the act of coitus, of which we are heartily engaged in under this stage in front of Buckingham Palace!" Pussy screamed.
"I thought Christmas only came once a year," Smiley replied.
"Oh, Smiley! Take me around the world one more time?"
"Those bastards are stealing my bit!" James shouted. "The bit where I go fuck a hot woman at the end of my adventure, just to embarrass M in front of the international community!"
"Oh shut up, James," Kail scolded. "Next time, get a girl before they're all snatched up." He proceeded to smack Irennie's ass, to which she slapped his ass twice as hard. They began slapping each other's ass as hard as possible before M stopped them.
"I'm putting a stop to this shit right now," she declared, crawling under the stage and dragging Smiley and Pussy out by their ears. They barely managed to grab pieces of Posh large enough to hide their strategic bits before being hauled back into the lineup with the rest of the Krew.
"And now, Her Majesty, Queen of the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia, and the other Commonwealth realms, and owner of every swan in England, please, give it up for Queen! Elizabeth! Maguire!" announced the MC.
"Like, hi, everybody!" the sixteen year old girl called. "So, today we're, like, here to commemo-- commemo-- do that one thing where we give medals to people who kicked some ass! Yeah! And today I'm honoring a bunch of people from our secret spy agency, MI-6!"
She approached James first. "James Bond, for dedication, loyalty, and all that other shit that makes you sound important, I hereby make you a knight of England, and restore your status as 007. Woohoo!" She tapped each side of his head with the sword James had fired out of its mouth.
James felt the sides of his head. "Eww, it's still covered in blood and shit from when I stabbed the other Bond in the intestines," he said, making a face.
The queen moved on to Kail. "John Kail. You rose from being a smelly drunk, to taking down Blofeld -- which wasn't hard, I mean, come on, the guy was in a wheelchair! People in wheelchairs are, like, dumb." A few people down the line, Smiley growled angrily. "But anyway, I guess you deserve this crap. I hereby grant you knighthood, and restore you to 008 status. Kick ass!" She tapped the blood-and-shit-covered sword on Kail's head.
Irennie was next. "Irennie Galore. You, an American, mended the ugly rift existing between our countries since we burned down the White House and stuff during...uh...World War One, or whatver. But since you helped save us, I guess that means you can kick shit with us for now. So I totally knight you and I give you...hm, the rank of 002 in MI-6."
"Does this mean I can legally kill people?!" Irennie asked excitedly.
"Shit yeah!" The Queen answered, and the two girls high-fived.
Next up was Smiley. "Oh awesome, this dude is naked!" the Queen announced, for those who hadn't noticed yet. "So, you're the ex-cripple who murdered the President of the United States. I can only bestow upon you the greatest honor this nation can bestow upon somebody: I hereby change your name to Churchill Smiley. Oh, and you're 009 now, or some shit."
A tear rolled down Smiley's cheek. "Truly, this is the greatest moment in the history of my life. Well, except for that time five minutes ago, when I was penetrating Pussy."
Finally, the Queen reached Pussy. "Pussy, I said much the same shit to your sister. Blah blah blah knighthood 003 status alright, where's the fucking party now?" The assembled crowds cheered as their head of state flipped them the bird and left without saying goodbye.
The Krew looked around, wondering what to do now. M began to speak. "Agents, England needs you to kick some more ass. Are you up to the task?"
They looked amongst one another. "We shall be your divine instrument of destruction," Bond offered.
M smirked. "Very well, then. I want you to investigate a factory in Tierra Del Fuego..."
XXXX
(As the credits roll, You Only Live Twice plays)
BOND VS. BLONDE
STARRING
Pierce Brosnan as James Bond
Daniel Craig as James Bond
Sean Connery as John Mason
Shia LaBeouf as John Kail
Zac Efron as Remington Smiley
Kirsten Dunst as Irennie Galore
Natalie Portman as Pussy Galore Jr.
Judi Dench as M
Desmond Llewelyn as Q
Samantha Bond as Miss Moneypenny
Donald Pleasance as Ernst Stavro Blofeld
Jimmy Dean as Willard Whyte
Hillary Duff as Queen Elizabeth Maguire
XXXX
Meanwhile, in Japan...
XXXX
Several sublevels below the ruins of Blofeld's old volcano base, a computer screen switched on and began displaying words:
ERNST BLOFELD -- DECEASED WILLARD WHYTE -- DECEASED JAMES BOND 1ST ED. -- DECEASED
INITIATING SECONDARY MEASURES
The screen turned off again.
Immediately, a nearby transparent cylinder -- filled with murky fluid which suspended a dark form -- opened up, spilling the liquid inside everywhere.
The form inside drew breath for the first time in its life and stood up.
James Bond ran a hand through his blonde hair and smiled. "It's all happening exactly as before," he remarked.
"Well, not exactly," James Bond pointed out.
The two James Bonds smiled as more of the room lit up, revealing row after row of the cylinders, each one holding a dark form...
XXXXXXXXXX
JAMES BOND WILL RETURN