Sleep well, Mr. Bond?

This week we decided, at essentially no notice, to play with a set of Sixties spy figures Matt had recently acquired. Matt already had a bucolic French landscape laid  out from a previous WWII game, so changing out some burned out buildings for a very nice rustic chateau. Just the kind of place where 007 might come for a long weekend with his current companion, Prunella. Nice, right?

Of course, things weren’t like that at all. The hotel staff consisted of the patron and his wife, Cherie the cook and her brother Gaston the waiter, Simone the overdeveloped secretary and Horst, the large, uncommunicative gardener. There were no other guests, as Simone informed Bond.

At dawn the agent awoke to hear the noise of a truck. Instantly he recounted the specifications for the kind of US vehicle of wartime vintage easily available for sale in France in 1969 (this being ‘now’ as you’ll understand.) Prunella told him it was probably delivering vegetables. Bond knew otherwise. Instantly he improvised a Molotov Cocktail from the brandy decanter and a silk scarf, hurled it from the window, and set the truck alight. Three men in yellow jumpsuits leapt out, machine pistols in hand.

”Baron LeGros!”muttered Bond. “Penelope, do look and see if we can get to the Aston Martin.”

 

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As the jumpsuit men burst in, attempting with comic incompetence to lock the kitchen staff in the freezer, a sinister Korean man entered, angry with the inept minions. “Where is Bond?”  Of course, nobody knew.

He and Prunella had leapt from an upstairs window, while the jumpsuits vainly stood in the hallway and stitched automatic fire into the ceiling for no useful reason.

Bond started the Aston, deploying the bartering ram and knocking down the courtyard gates. As one does.

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The Baron was waiting in his classic Bugatti  for such a move. He raced in pursuit, leaving his hapless minions on foot.FC15F3A2-965F-4877-8B4C-0197786C803E

The baron avoided Bond’s cunningly sprayed oil slick, and  hit the accelerator.  He would smash his heavy classic car into the back of the Aston. Bond rolled a 17 with seven dice to reach top speed. The Baron, just inches behind, rolled four sixes and change. He hit the Aston from behind as Bond wrenched the wheel aside.

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Being a movie, both cars exploded. Dice were rolled. The Baron took a wound, and bailed out. Bond, unharmed, hit the ejector seat buttons, taking the artistically grazed Prunella with him. They ran for a hedge and ducked low, watching the flames. “You do know how to show a girl a good time,” purred Prunella.

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See ejector seat mechanism, above.

Rules-wise, this was a mix of Mad Dogs with Guns, bits of  Astounding Tales! And things we made up on the spot. 75 mins start to finish.

 

 

 

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4 thoughts on “Sleep well, Mr. Bond?

    1. I think so. Matt is a long time RPG player as well, so he and I can riff off one another to say what happens next – like the cook grabbing hold of the minion’s leg and refusing to let go until he freed Gaston from the fridge.

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