solid proposal
which is better than ours...
theyll definitely take it.
Want some coffee?
- Gladly.
So, we have to beat them to it.
Karen was obviously eliminated.
Youll take responsibility for
the dossier
and handle it.
But make sure you understand.
Not only the Japanese part.
The entire operation.
Can you do that?
- Sure.
Then prepare to return to Tokyo
within a week.
What are you doing?
Copyin
solid.
NAPOLEON
Who has been putting glass in my
pitcher? Look here, someone has
filled my pitcher with glass!
DUFOUR
Oh, my goodness! Someone has filled
Bonapartes pitcher with glass.
Now, who on earth would do a thing
like that?
BREMOND
Oh, heavens, look someone has filled
my pitcher with glass too!
MONK
Silence! Silence! You should not
make fun of Monsieur Bonaparte, he
comes from a country wh
solid citizen; hardly
dangerous, perhaps even meek. But these circumstances are far
from normal. He is disheveled, unshaven, and very drunk. A
cigarette smolders in his mouth. His eyes, flinty and hard, are
riveted to the bungalow up the path.
He can hear them fucking from here.
He raises a bottle of bourbon and knocks it back. The radio
plays softly, painfully romantic, taunting him:
You
tea bag around a spoon to extract last drops of
tea. His hand moves to his felt pen lying on the table. He
moves his hand to the paper, open at the obituary section. We
SEE several names crossed out. He circles one funeral listing.
ANGLE
Galvin sitting, raises cup of tea to his lips. Looks around
deserted coffee shop. Sighs.
INT. SECOND FUNERAL HOME AND STREET - AFTERNOON
Galvin outside a second
solid.
Pushing in still closer, there is a tiny black dot inching its way up
the ice. A human figure. This is:
JAMES BOND, BRITISH SECRET SERVICE AGENT, 007.
Bond is sweating and straining, four hundred feet in the air. He has
an ice-pick tethered to each hand, ice-cleats on his boots. A black
backpack. As he climbs, spider-like, pulling himself up, he goes to
JAM A CLEAT into the ice, but -
CRAC