James Bonds Dad.

bigbaddog

Banned
Now, as we all surely know, that epitomy of British Maleness - James Bond (Super-Spy, killer of the Empires enemies and complete Fanny-Magnet), is always being referred to as quote:Commander Bond:unquote so he's a member of the RN isn't he? After many minutes of research, I have discovered that James Bonds dad was also in the RN. He did his 22 years and left as a 3-badge Leading Hand and he too was a Secret Agent....of sorts. Now, James Bonds dad had many, many adventures but they were never known about - until now! Thanks to The "Freedom of Black-Cat this Dit" Act, official documents, recently discovered in an old Pussers filing cabinet on sale in a branch of Army & Navy Surplus just outside Milton Keynes, James Bonds dads adventures are now in the public domain. These stories were to be serialised and published in forthcoming issues of "Razzle-Readers Wives-Over 60's Edition" but they would not give me enough money, so I told 'em to "Go and take a flying f**k at a rolling doughnut", and decided to serialise them here for your delight and entertainment. All other paperback publishers sent me f**k off chits as well claiming that the "Average reader in the street" would not understand the humour. Ohh well.

James Bonds dad in.......

"THUNDERBOLLOX"

"An absolute must-read...pinched all my fecking ideas for my next book!" Chris Ryan

"Hard-Hitting, non-stop action-feast, full of mindless violence, gratituous sex and binge drinking!" Mother Theresa of Calcutta

"A new thriller writer that kept telling me to F**k off!" The Paper Clip animation in Microsoft Word

"The bestest best selling best seller that ever propped up my MFI home assembly wardrobe!" Agatha Christie

"I have read the book....now buy some Credit Card Protection!" Gunnaaar Stromberrrgggsonn, Orange Call Centre, Reyjkavik, Iceland.

Chapter 1

The Name is Bond - Knocker Bond.
HMS THRUSTER was cruising serenely through the calm moonlit waters of the Mediterranean. Several Royal Fleet auxilliaries and quite a few NATO Naval Units made up Task Force 118118, and the major exercise they were all taking part in was coming to an end. Exercise "Monkey Spanker 55", had involved replenishments at sea, sub chasing, helicopter flying, missile shoots, gun actions, high speed manoeuvres and at least twenty Wardroom Cheese & Wine parties so Steward Bond had been a busy rating. He had (by his own reckoning) dished out thirty gallons of gin-based cocktails and had plated up at least a thousand cocktail sausages with pineapple on little sticks. Now, he sat in the Wardroom pantry of the Thruster, feet up on the table day-dreaming about the run ashore/piss-up in Gibraltar in four days time. At the same time, a communications rating was ascending the ladder to the bridge - a very important message clasped firmly in his hand. CAPTAINS EYES ONLY had been stamped in red on the envelope he carried. It must be important! The rating fumbled his way around the darkened bridge and accidentally stood on the Chief Yeomans sandalled feet. He awoke with a start and began Yelling, "CORPEN NINE ZERO....FORM LINE ASTERN...ROGER YOUR LAST!!"
The Captain ordered him to "F***ing shut up" and the Yeoman promptly went back to sleep. The Radio Operator homed in on the Captains voice and handed him the envelope. Captain Quentin Bloodbath-Jones tore the envelope open and shone his Pussers Right-angle Red-light Torch on to the Signal. What he read - startled him.
FROM: C in C FLEET TO: THRUSTER attn Captain ONLY
IMPERATIVE YOU TRANSFER STEWARD BOND OFFICIAL NUMBER D007007
TO RFA IN COMPANY IMMEDIATELY. ARRANGEMENTS FOR ONWARD TRANSFER OF RATING HAVE BEEN MADE BY SEPARATE SIGNAL. PASS CONTENTS OF THIS SIGNAL TO RATING PERSONALLY.
SAY TO RATING QUOTE: BELGIUM IS A VERY INTERESTING COUNTRY: UNQUOTE. REPLY WILL BE QUOTE:ONLY IF YOU'RE DEAD: UNQUOTE
THIS ORDER OVERRIDES ANY OTHER IN-FORCE OPERATIONAL COMMITTMENTS//
The Captain folded the message and placed it in his pocket.
"Officer of the Watch?!"
"Sir!"
"Going below for a while - you have the ship!"
"Aye Aye sir - I have the ship!"
The CO left the bridge and made his way to the Wardroom Pantry, still rankled by the cryptic message from High Command. Why go and see some Naval Butler personally for Christs Sake? I'm the bloody Captain! He should be doing my f***ing breakfast....whats going on here?". He arrived at the Wardroom Pantry and opened the door. The rating in question was there.....on watch, a large enamel mug of Oxtail Soup in one hand, a dog-eared copy of "Health and Efficiency" in the other, and something purple and obnoxious sticking out of the front of his pussers shorts.
"Steward Bond!", hissed the Captain.
"Sir!"
The veins in the CO's forehead looked fit to explode but he managed to hang on to his composure.
Bond leapt to his feet, the enamel mug of soup clattered to the deck. Turning his back momentarily on the CO he hastily fumbled with the protuberance before turning around and assuming a more respectful stance.
"Errrr.....Belgium is a very interesting country....?", the Captain whispered.
Knocker Bonds face cracked into a big shit-eating grin.
"Only if yer dead skin....only if yer dead..."
The Captain fished the message from his pocket and handed it to the grinning loon. Steward Bond read it once, rolled it up into a ball and started to eat it.
"We had better get a f***ing shift on me old wingsy-bash!" he uttered, spraying little pieces of the Top Secret message from the sides of his mouth.
"Off to me Mess to pack me f***ing grip - you'd better get this ship to f***ing Flying Stations skin 'cos I'm bleedin' required elsewhere!"
The Captain suddenly realised he had said, "Right - Hands to Flying Stations - will make it so!" A tiny voice in his head tittered insanely.
"Hang on! He's a f***ing Crumb-Brush! He was about to crack one off in the Wardroom Pantry and NOW he's the most important person on this ship!?"Knocker Bond reappeared at the Captains side. God! That was quick! He was now attired in his best number one suit and was clutching a very battered pussers grip. It was crammed to bursting point with items that made the Captains jaw drop. Several heavy calibre machine guns, a Samurai sword, two baseball bats and the Wardroom Pantry Cheese-cutter
were in plain sight as was a pair of Steaming Boots marked "Property of Special Intelligence Service-Not for Nozzers". The usual assortment of nicks, socks and large tins of Brut talcum powder completed the bags contents. Knocker Bonds eyes narrowed into evil slits. He hauled himself up to his full height of five foot two and sucked in his vast beer-belly.
"Seems my country needs me to kick some f***ers arse....again!", said he.
Bond - Knocker Bond hurried aft, heading for the flight-deck, followed by his very confused Commanding Officer. A hundred miles away on the Island of Malta, a Jet-Black Helicopter was in the final preparations for take off.
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janner

MIA
Book Reviewer
H & E was the fore runner of the nudie mags of today, it had something to do with the nudist movement. Mind you all the interesting bits were air brushed out.

My thanks to Nutty for providing me with this information
 

Brains

Lantern Swinger
bigbaddog said:
James Bond (Super-Spy, killer of the Empires enemies and complete Fanny-Magnet), is always being referred to as quote:Commander Bond:unquote so he's a member of the RN isn't he?

Excellent stuff bigbaddog and, yes, Bond was RNVR (RN Volunteer Reserve, which would be RNR these days), just like his creator Fleming (despite starting out as a pongo).

Can't think where you got a name like 'Knocker Bond'....bl**dy fantastic. Well done shippers!
 
No wonder stewards led a charmed life.

No savvy Orificer would dare upset the man prepared to chug in his breakfast!

Good one!
 
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