From: "H.V.C." Newsgroups: alt.humor.best-of-usenet Subject: [alt.fan.james-bond] FLEMING Date: 29 Nov 1998 15:05:36 -0000 Subject: FLEMING From: "Robert Cotton" Newsgroups: alt.fan.james-bond Alright, we've been silent long enough. Yes, there are those among you who would push the JBWFC's niceness and goodness, and while various opponent organisations have come to the fore, they have held little in the way of REAL evil. Therefore, it is with great pleasure (as is contained in most evil actions) that we, the evil membership of FLEMING step into the light. Yes, FLEMING, the First and Last Evil Maniacs In Nehru Garb. Who are we? Well, unless you're asking a relatively rhetorical question about the inner workings of life as we know it, we are a group of evil scientists, world leaders and popular sports figures in the midst of marshalling our forces to take over the universe. Yes, here at FLEMING, we take "world" domination to a higher level. We meet secretly in various locations, chosen at random from among the many European and western capitols we have secretly subjugated. Our annual "Ernst, we hardly knew ye" pageant was recently held in the basement of the old Chrysler building, WHICH by the way we had torn down and replaced overnight with an exact replica just to prove we could. You New Yorkers with your "urban" attitudes. You didn't even notice that the new Chrysler building is nearly four inches taller than the original, this having been done in order to accommodate a more comfortable meeting room in sub-level seven. (The Jacuzzi was simply taking up too much space in the lava grotto, I'm certain you understand) Meetings usually entail the traditional five minutes of maniacal laughter followed by a nice dinner (special kudos to Mrs. No for the Chinese buffet at the last meeting) and an explanation of each of our evil schemes for the coming fiscal period. Featured speakers have run the gamut from Michael Jordan (exploding shoes and undergarments) to such noted dignitaries as Walt Disney (hypnotic Mickey Mouse merchandise) and the Pope (replacing communion wafers and wine with macaroons and Dixie cups half filled with warm Mr. Pibb). Then, we each add to our general plan for the removal of all governments and replacing of all officials with our willing thralls, but I'm getting ahead of myself... (At this point I would laugh maniacally, however Gunther is still hard at work on the e-mail echo chamber that once perfected will make things sound really really evil. Notice that we don't even pause for punctuation between repeated terms. Why? Because we're evil... I won't even bring up our London plan. Millennium dome indeed... Suffice it to say that just before midnight, December 31st 1999, every personal vibrator in the greater London area, clear to Cornwall will simultaneously... but I have said too much. Membership? It's very simple. One must dedicate oneself to the commission of evil acts for evil sake. Yes, in the old days, with SPECTRE you could get in by say kicking a member of Parliament in the genitals, voting libertarian, or as a legacy, but that is truly not enough for FLEMING. To join FLEMING, one must be truly evil. And we're talking real evil here, not that plasticine stuff people were handing about in the late 80's and calling evil. For instance, one of our members, a mister Flobeld made the entire continent of Amrania disappear from all maps, charts and history. Millions of people were subjugated, forced into slavery and the horrors of Volvo ownership! And did any of YOU hear about it? If you were a member of FLEMING, you did... probably from one of your household thralls, however, I digress... Some of you have seen the little tidbits FLEMING has scattered about the media, the stories of Bond 19 being absolute trash. Well, the real secret is, while you, the general public is forced to watch Pierce Brosnan mince his way through yet another Goldfinger rip-off, we, here at FLEMING, will be watching Timothy Dalton in Casino Royale, filmed in the correct time period and with loads and loads of raw Bond girl nudity and hardcore sex. And I'm told there may be some nudity in the film as well. Why are we doing this? Simple. We, here at FLEMING are dedicated to returning to the real James Bond, the James Bond that Fleming created. Brioni suits? Feelings? Machine guns? What the hell are you people watching? Our Bond is a bastard. He drinks too much, screws anything he can get in the sack, kills with a modicum of remorse, and generally lives life in the best places, eats in the best restaurants, and writes the whole thing off on his expense account. He attracts women with animal magnetism, makes love to them and by GOD when our James Bond screws them, they remember it as the sexual experience of a lifetime, not a wince and a hug from a 120 pound pretty boy. We are devoted to a Bond who, when he walks into the room, knows he can kill all the men, screw all the women and intimidate all the waiters with his knowledge of obscure wines. We've got your Phu Yuck right here... He is a MAN, not a mannequin and if he were shot a hundred and forty seven times in the heart, poisoned and left for dead with his throat cut in a BMW sedan, he would get out, stand up, piss on the front bumper, then die with the words "For Queen and Country" on his lips on the way to the hospital behind the wheel of an Aston Martin DB3 while having oral sex performed on him by a bevy of world class supermodels. And he'd still be back in the next book. THAT's our James Bond and dammit WE WANT HIM BACK!!!!! The perks are clear, each full member is allotted the Aston Martin of his or her choice, a flat in London, a demure yet sexiful Japanese housegirl and use of the official FLEMING Center for World Domination for one weekend a month (Cleaning deposit required). The Center is also available for smokers and bachelor parties, however one should be forewarned that one should bring one's own deadly form of marine life and that stainless steel does NOT grow on trees! Also, there are the little things, the "Whack Roger Moore With A Haddock" weekend in Surrey sticking foremost in my mind although "Rub up against Emma Peel for a guinea" was quite popular as well (especially with Dame Diana who has promised to buff up for the June semi-final between her and Ms. Thurman). And of course, to top off the whole FLEMING membership drive, there will be the usual dark magical ceremony bringing Ian Fleming back to life in order to write new novels. While last years effort, "Bond, Kissy, Pussy and the loofah" was less than expected (and more!), old Ian promises that the next one entitled "Licence To Slap" will be more acceptable in quality and plot. A selection from Mr. Fleming's annual reading follows: James Bond lifted his right eyebrow, carefully balancing his Walther PPK on that little ridge that formed about a quarter of an inch below the foul smelling glue that marked the line of demarcation between skin and what formerly had been called his hairline. It was the sort of eyebrow lift that reminded him what it was like to be man. No woman would lift her eyebrow like that, taking the time to use both hands and employing an unsharpened pencil for extra support. He pondered, was the eyebrow an appendage or decoration? M would know. He thought back to London, to that office on the seventh floor. M, the old man with the damnably clear gray eyes that he kept in his breast pocket specifically to frighten children. "This is the big one, Bond." Bond very carefully hadn't looked up, not since the first time the old man had pulled THAT one. Things had changed at headquarters since the old man's stroke, and not for the better... (Here, Fleming for the first time interjects a personal note into the narrative.) Then off he goes on some Goddamn mission or other, gets his genitals smacked by a seven foot tall midget with one nipple in the middle of his Goddamn forehead and where the hell's my drink, when you bastards brought me back to life you promised me a drink... Amazingly enough, still better than the first draft of TMWTGG and light years better than the Gardner tomes. Anyway, there you have it. When you're looking for an evil organisation and you just don't want to settle for second best, think FLEMING. We're evil, but we're traditionalists. And we've got one hell of a dental plan!