Hier ein Paar geschnittene Dialoge:
1:Moon: Why, Mr Bond, I've been expecting you.
Perkins: Erm, sir, actually I'm not Bond. I'm Perkins from Section G. I'm the airline attendant.
Moon: A brave attempt, Mr Bond. But you have have quipped your last quip.
Perkins: Look, really, sir. I'm the steward. You know, hot towels, peanuts, refresh your drink, all that.
Moon: You are a worthy adversary, 007, but how much longer can you persist in this charade? Not long, I think…
Perkins: Err, what are you doing, sir?
Moon: Prepare the Icarus device!
Perkins: Sir, I don't like hot weather, sir. I'm really not Bond. He's over there by that strangely futuristic yet poorly guarded control panel. Sir?
Moon: You have vexed me too long, western spy. North and South Korea will be united, and you? You will be dead, a testament to your culture's decadence and interference.
Perkins: Please, sir, no. He's right over there playing with a laser-beam type watch, right next to that girl from Swordfish.
Moon: Silence!
2:Bond: Lovely view.
Jinx: Shame it's wasted on some people. My friends call me Jinx.
Bond: My friends call me … well, actually, most of them are dead. The others aren't really friends, just people I work with.
Jinx: But you are … ?
Bond: Hang on, love, I'm thinking here. Who are my friends? I've been in this game for 40 years and the only people I really know are from my office and I'm not sure how well I even know them.
Jinx: Right. Yes. Okay. But they call you … ?
Bond: Only when they want me to do something. Why do they never call just for a chat or for drinks after work. I never even get a birthday card. They're always coming up with excuses: "Oh, you were in space", "Oh, you were marooned on an exploding island", "Oh, you were in the middle of the Atlantic in a submarine". Is it that they just don't like me?
Jinx: Hell, I don't know.
Bond: I can't believe I never realised until now. I have no real friends. No-one just likes me for me.
Jinx: Look, do you want a shag or not?
3:So, Ms Frost, tell me what you know of James Bond.
Frost: He's a 00 and wild one at that. A blunt instrument whose primary purpose is to confront. He'll light the fuse on any explosive situation.
M: And?
Frost: Well, that's about it.
M: Yes, well, good. We are a secret service, after all. I note from your file, Ms Frost, that in the last three months, you've turned up next to nothing on Gustav Graves.
Frost: He appears to be clean.
M: Really? Or is it just that you are a not a very good secret agent, Ms Frost?
Frost: I'm sorry, I don't understand.
M: Ms Frost, when I give 007 an assignment, I am guaranteed that within three days, he will have slept with several women, he will have destroyed many buildings, engaged in his borderline alcoholic tendencies, gambled with sums of money others can merely dream of, written off his Q Branch vehicle, killed the equivalent of a small army, and solved the case, thereby saving the world. You, on the other hand, have uncovered nothing in a much longer time. Hence, I'm afraid that you are fired, Ms Frost. Please clear out your desk, return your sidearm and your canteen pass. You'll receive your P45 by mail. Good day.
Nr.4
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