James Bond is Sad

JAMES BOND HAS SUCCUMBED TO DEPRESSION

Shooting Draft 4

INT. TORTURE CHAMBER- NIGHT

JAMES BOND awakens, still woozy from the knock out drops and looks around. He does not recognize the room around him, a posh well decorated living room set. James jumps on guard. It almost looks too normal; except for the P.A. system coming out of the wall.

JAMES

Goddamit Goldfinger. I don't have time for this.

GOLDFINGER (over PA)

Ah, but I think you do Mr. Bond. You've taken a royal poop all over my plans for a good long time now, and I say now its my turn to play with you. Look under the chair Mr. Bond.

James Bond nervously looks around the room.

GOLDFINGER

I say you best do it Mr. Bond, one wrong move and the entire room may simply self destruct. Now be a good old boy and look under the chair.

James Bond looks under the chair and removes a cake.

GOLDFINGER

Ahahahaha. Very good.

JAMES BOND

Its a cake. What's your game Goldfinger?!

GOLDFINGER

I will tell you when you eat the cake Mr. Bond.

JAMES BOND

I would never.

GOLDFINGER

Eat the cake.

JAMES BOND

Never!

GOLDFINGER

Eat the cake Mr. Bond! EAT IT!

JAMES BOND

Stop shouting! It gets us nowhere and makes me stressed!

GOLDFINGER

Eat the cake or both the room and Britain get blown sky high!

James Bond takes a little bite out of the cake.

GOLDFINGER

Now eat the cake. Good. Good. Eat the whole thing.

James Bond is sloppily eating it with his hands.

GOLDFINGER

Oh yes! Oh God yes!

JAMES BOND

Are you pleasuring yourself?

GOLDFINGER

Eat the cake dammit! Ohhhh, oh yes!

James finishes eating the cake.

GOLDFINGER

Now how did that feel!?

JAMES BOND

Well, I feel pretty shitty. Like a fat piece of shit. I feel like a fat piece of shit, Goldfinger.

GOLDFINGER

Lie down Mr. Bond and turn on the TV.

Bond sighs to himself and lies down on the couch.

BOND

I don't know what your game is...

GOLDFINGER

I'll do it for you!

A series of irritating static noises occur. These noises make Bond grow quietly sadder and whine to himself a little. The TV turns to THE BEVERLY HILLBILLIES.

BOND

Fine. Whatever. Grumpf. I'm such a fat fucking piece of shit anyway who gives a fuck.

GOLDFINGER

I have the plans Mr. Bond. Would you like to get them back?

BOND

Yeah. I guess I should. Whatever.

James Bond doesn't leave the couch. He sighs dejectedly and continues to watch TV.

JAMES BOND

All those girls I slept with. Do you think any of them loved me?

Long pause. The sound of the Hillbillies plays in the silence. A shitty joke is followed by empty laugh track laughter.

JAMES BOND

Yeah. You know, I guess not. Sigh.

Beat.

JAMES BOND

I guess I could masturbate. Whatever.

Beat. James Bond falls asleep.

GOLDFINGER

Good, Mr. Bond, Good. I have given you depression!

Goldfinger cackles viciously as James Bond falls into a deeper sleep.

FADE OUT: