James Bond gets a new number

          "M I had my balls crushed for the agency. I have a right to know
      what the hell is going on." James Bond is on his cell phone.
      He is driving a cab.
          "We're having severe budget cuts. You can't expect an Austine Martin
      on every mission. Just do your job and don't rack up any damages.
      Oh, and will need receipts for any meals. You can keep the tips."
      M's voice is terse. She hangs up as Bond gets a fare.
            "I don't even know what my mission is." he mutters, "What?"
      The passenger in the back seat asks for a quick way to the
      Pink Flamingo. The fare is an attractive woman in a blue string dress
      with black leotard underneath. Bond smiles into the rear view mirror.
      "I'll take the ally way to the club."
            It is starting feel like a mission. How many times had he saved
      the world? Perhaps, this was something smaller like a bunko or
      narcotics? The ally was clear for the most part. A group of women waited
      a the rear entrance to the club. "Why don't you come in?" His fare gave
      a twenty dollar tip. "Why not?" He smirked and parked his cab.
            Classical music played inside the darkly lit club with a deep
      green carpet and mahogany furniture with dark red fabric walls. Some
      of the patrons danced slowly together and some of the women danced
      with each other. A picture of a landscape with a small cottage hung behind
      the bar. ..  Bond took a sip of some claret.
      "May I join you?" His lovable gadget man Q queried, "I've been sacked."
      "Q? How? Your inventions have saved my life." Bond bought his friend a drink.
      "Didn't M tell you the special branch has been closed.
      There's no money for spies anymore or my pension.
      I'm working at a Radio Shack. Are you gainfully employed?" Q swallowed his
      claret. "I-I thought I was on a mission. At least I have M's word for that.
      I just don't know if I'm a cabby or a 00." Bond looked around the bar at
      all the lovely women.
              Q chuckled, "There all gentlemen. This is a cat club."
      Bond looked in amazement at Q. "Your gay?" Q put down his empty glass
      and asked for a refill. "Well, no one here is gay. There bankers and judges
      and politicians, who like to dress up, but most of them have families
      and wives." "My God if this club got any press the scandal would paralyze
      the world banks. This must be my mission." Bond studied the women's faces
      to see who he could recognize. Q patted him on the back, "My dear boy, there
      are members of the press in skirts here too. There is no scandal. It is just
      a cat club."
              "May I join you?" M sat on a stool beside her favorite 00.
      "M?! What is this?" James was flabbergasted. "I asked the Secretary of
      the Navy to steer you here. He was your tempting fare.
      I'm terribly sorry, but, the 00s have been decommissioned. You can keep
      the cab."
              "I'm sacked? What kind of a send off is this? Are you gay too?"
      He scrutinized M's cleavage for any sign of a disguise.
      "No. I am female, but I like to socialize with the cream of Britain's gentlemen.
      There is something about a man in tights that shags my goat."
      M smirked and sipped her claret. "You might want to network here
      for a cabinet position." Q chuckled. A smile came across the craggy face
      of her majesty's best 00 as he swallowed his claret. "Balls up!"

     

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