M paced back and forth across his plush Vauxhall Cross office. A look of angst and worry constantly draped across his knowledgable face. There was a confident rap on his large, oak office door. "Come in, come in", he impatiently said. The door swung open and standing there as handsome as ever, wearing a bespoke, Italian silk suit was Bond. "Ah 007, delightful to see you my good man", said M as he strode across the spacious office to greet 007. "Yes, it certainly is delightful to see me!", laughed 007 as he shook Ms' hand. "Take a seat James, we have something important to discuss.", M stated as he seated himself behind his imposing desk.
"I have a very important mission for you, Bond" explained M. He went to further explain "It appears that Kim Jong Il has been able t manufacture vast quantities of time twine from the remnants of an ancient egyptian device believe to be called a "Time-Tele-See-O-Matic". Now intelligence believes that he has personally travelled back in time in an effort to force his own father to marry and impregnat Queen Elizabeth so that he will be born as as the next heir to the thrown of the British Empire. Obviously this is totally unacceptable. Luckily for us though Q has been able to produce enough time twine from the mummified brain of John DeLorean for trip back in time." There was a slight pause, mostly for dramatic effect but also because M had lost his train of thought and 007 looked stupified by what he had just heard.
"So in essence Bond, you will have enough time twine to travel back but you will have to stop Kim Jong Il and use his Time-Tele-See-O-Matic to get back to the present day. What do you say 007?". There was a long, slightly uncomfortable slience as Bond sat opposite M looking quite relfective and somewhat dejected.
"Actually, old boy, I have some bad news for you. I was only coming hear to tell you I am resigning my commission. I have a fantastic woman called Shaggsa Lot, who is a hippie pacifist, so we are going to move to Devon and become organic farmers" replied Bond. There was a long, tense silence broken by M interjecting "Ah, well then" as he reached into the top drawer of his desk and withdrew his Browning 9mm service issue pistol. "That was highly classified information Mr. Bond" M cooly said. "Come now M, don't be crazy here. What would be F say about all this?", blurted out Bond.
M levelled the gun at Bond, his hand slightly quivering. His finger tensed around the trigger, just enough to squeeze off a shot, his eyes shut with the realisation of what he had just done. "Ow, damn it M you blind old bastard!" He heard Bond yell out. M opened his eyes to discover he shot off Bonds ear lobe. "Oh deary me, terribly sorry old chap, let me try again." , retorted M. He began firing off the remaining 11 rounds in quick succession. A haze of cordite filled the space between him and Bond when he was finished firing. He peered through the haze to see Bond still sitting there, alive as a motherfucker, smiling gleefully. "Its been too long since you were in the field, you senile old fool.", quipped Bond. "I've had enough of this bullshit." thought M to himself. He jumped across the desk and began smashing Bonds face in with the grip of the pistol. Blood and brain flew everywhere. M could be heard screaming with laughter and shouting "It's just just like the faulklands!"
Moments later M arose from Bonds now headless corpse and called out to his Personal Assistant "Robert, get me THE RAGE". I know what it is you are thinking dear reader, surely not THE RAGE, but circumstances were dire enough to necessitate the use of such a cold, unfeeling, clinical, rage filled being. The personal assistant crept into Ms' office and whispered "THE RAGE is still in Cambodia chasing underage, drug trafficking hookers.", fearing the use of the words THE RAGE would implode the building. "Blast that thundering fuck!", roared M "Won't he ever get back from that damned vacation. Well then you better get me the next best man for the job - ROCKY!"
12 hours later M was explaining the situation all over again to Rocky. "So are we clear Rocky?".
"Yea, fuhget about it, I go back in time, kick this gooks ass and bring back the time machine. No problem!", replied Rocky. "Yes, golly good. Now we'll just bring you down to Q and he will show you how to use the time twine." explained M.
Q looked up from his cluttered work bend to gape at the Pirelli calendar hanging in the corner only to be met by the humongous form of Rocky walking through the door to his workshop. "Ah good day Mr. Rocky, here about the time wtine are you, my good boy?" enquired Q. "What the fuck is up with this limey prick?" asked Rocky. Q gave a slight look of angered bewilderment as there was no one else in the room. "Yes well, get on with it, shall we?", Q continued. He picked up a short length of bright, almost golden twine. The colour never quite stayed the same, it shifted from silver to gold to red to burgundy to purple to blue back to gold to yellow to gold again to navy and finally back to silver. Rocky peered at the twine and a long, low "whoooooooah" escaped his muscled lips. "Now listen here fuckface, this is quite easy to use. One merely uses it as dental floss and after 30 seconds of use you simply say the date and time you want to travel to and BAM! there you are. It will only bring you to the same location as you are already situated thoough so we are going to have to bring you where we believe Kim Jong Il travelled back from. Are you with me Rocky?" elaborated Q. Rocky sternly looked at Q and stated "Fuck yes."
Before he knew who was groping him Rocky found himself outside Buckingham Palace flossing the shit, literally, out of his teeth "June ape, Nineting fiffy seben" he blurted out. For a second he thought this shower of British bastards were playing a joke on him because nothing happened and everyone standing around was laughing at him, even those guards who arent meant to move or say shit where wetting themselves with laughter. But then, it felt a thousand weak, midgets were grabbing him all over and pulling him backwards, he could feel himself beginning to topple backwards, his eyes shut and he almost shit his pants, then as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Rocky opened his eyes and thanked his ass for being so muscular.
He looked around and thought "Fuck me, I'm in the past. ADRIAN!!!!" People walked past wearing pin stripe suits and bowler hats, carrying big bags of cucumber sandwiches and complaining that we wouldn't have flying cars untill the year 2000 or that Pan Am were charging too much for flights to the moon. "Yeah! Rocko, go me!" shouted Rocky. Yet more laughter ensued.
Rocky started walking around looking for Kim Jong Il. He rounded Hyde Park corner and spied Kim Jong Il behind a bus stop, fondling himself and moaning "oooooooo Erizabit, you so hawny". "Jim Bong Jill!!!, I here to take you out!", roared Rocky while strapping on his prized fighting gloves, he had never done this himself though so could only get on one. Kim Jong Il put the mouse back in the house and started running. In two mighty strides Rocky had drawn level with him. Rocky grabbed him and began tickling the shit out him, true torture for any oriental. "Har har har har har har har har har har har har har har har har har har har har har har har har", screamed Kim Jong Il. Rocky picked him and began smashing him off the ground, then kicking him saying "you are going to eat thunder and crap lightning motherfucker.!" Rocky stood him on his feet then punched the living shit out of the poor Asian, dictator.
Kim Jong Il collapsed to the ground whimpering "Me no hawny, Mr. Mussels, me no more hawny.". Rocky picked him up by the face and said "Give me your see-o....... tele-port-see......your fucking time thing, motherfucker." Kim Jong Il handed the indescribable device over to Rocky, all the tim epleading for "mehrsy".
Rocky dragged Kim Jong Il to the nearest amy recruiting office, sat him in front of the Sargeant Major and went on to explain "This man just told me he would like to anally explore me while wearing a dress and calling me Rosanne." Rocky then stood up and left, knowing that the British Army would end the threat of Kim Jong Il forever.
Rocky initiated the time-tele-see-o-matic to return home and greet his legions of fans, thankful loose women, a grateful British Government and best of all the praise of his hero and idol - Dirk Benedict, author of two books, star of two award winning TV series, stage actor and personality extrodinaire!