CLOSETED, VAGUELY 80's-THEMED HIGH SCHOOL MEATHEAD TRYING HIS BEST TO BE A BOND VILLAIN

So James, you thought you could just saunter into my estates, undetected? That you could simply waltz your tuxedo'd way by my hundreds of counter insurgency personnel and countless hidden explosives and collapsing set to spring? You actually entertained the idea that you could pass through the miles of satellite monitored light jungle canopy surrounding my secret island bunker and not be caught? Truly, your arrogance is astounding.

But that's ok because James, guess what?
You're a fucking moron.

Oh, tush tush, James, don't look so shocked. You've heard such language before, I'm sure. Perhaps you heard it at the Douchebags Anonymous meetings you surely must attend. How ARE those going by the way?

Or maybe you heard such rough speech last at the Fart Faced Fart Head Convention, which I believe was in town last week? If I'm not mistaken you were scheduled to be the guest speaker for the next million billion years. How pleasant for you.

Oh, is it that I approach too swiftly the shores of truth, my old nemesis, or should I call you...Assburger? Is that why tears are streaming down your face as you laugh? Is that what the uncontrollable heaves of your chest are about? Oh James James James.

Laughter is a hobgoblin for little men...or so it is said.

But then, you already knew that, don't you--or rather...didn't you. No, "don't you" sounds right. Wait, "don't?" "Didn't?" It's not important. What is important is that you, James, will be the first man, if such a well-groomed dilettante-cum-PUSSBUCKET such as yourself can indeed be called a man, to witness the firing of the world's first Eat Shit and Die Ray, which--I do't mean to brag--has been quite a labor of love. A small variation on the traditional supervillain deathray, yes, but if nothing else I think you'll agree the name I have chosen evokes a certain l'esprit de punk, non?

Oh, too busy laughing still, I see? Well why don't I sooth your jagged nerves by expounding some more on what my little "toy" is capable of. Hahahaha. James you are in for a treat, yes you are!

At exactly 5:22 pm, the EAT SHIT AND DIE ray will fire into the very nerdy midst of each and every Model UN Club in every high school across the United States--stop laughing now James. Thank you.

My plan is all the more nefarious in that it will take years before anyone realizes what I've even done. An entire generation of polyglot nerds, really just huge dorks we're talking about, will be wiped from the face of the earth, and what little store of diplomacy remains of the world's only remaining superpower will be eliminated, leaving only I--WILL YOU STOP LAUGHING NOW, YOU STUPID ASS-SHIT-FUCK-FUCK!

It's not funny!

I'm gonna blow, like, lots of people up if you don't take me seriously. I'm gonna burn you man, and everyone's gonna be like, "Oh, James Bond, he was pretty cool till he let that supervillain kill all those Model U.N. losers."

SERIOUSLY DUDE, knock it off. I'll rip you up, man. Don't think I can? Oh really? Well, I went All-State in 3 Varsity sports this year, so watch it. How many sports were you All-State in?

Yeah I know England doesn't have states and don't talk down to me. What'd you, what'd you, were you like some sort of Cricket expert? What position did you play, 1st CRUMPET? Ha ha. Burn, faggot!

No, James, I don't consider that a lazy stereotype. The English play cricket and eat fucking crumpets and by putting those two cultural FACTS together I think I painted a pretty scathing picture of you...ahem, and as they say James, "A painting is worth thousands of wor--

Stop frigging laughing, NumbNuts! You want me to and I'll knock you right out. I will. There'll be 3 sounds-- me hitting you, you hitting the floor, and me laughing. Three, James!

(James' laughing slows, Villain brushes back hair, calms himself)

I mean, really James, my masculinity is hardly the question here. Currently I can be seen spending most evenings with no less than five women. What more proof of my sexual prowess and masculine allure could possibly be needed? You on the other hand look like quite the fudgepacker, James. How many wome---STOP LAUGHING!

JESUS FUCK, JAMES! I'm a real threat here. Ok you know what, forget you. I'm firing the ray.

TEN, NINE, fuck it--ONE!

(hits button on remote activator)

Ha! Even now the ray is destroying the world's hopes for future communication and peaceful negotiations. So I guess my question for you is, how does it feel to suck such big cock, James?

Wait, what'd you just say to me? What?
Yeah, nothing. That's right, Buttnugget. Hey James....AHOMOSAYSWHAT!

Haha! You said "what!" You're a total gaywad! You're--

Wait, what? You disconnected the ray days ago?

(James tosses Villain the manacles he was locked up in)

Hey! What? You got out of those hours ago?
What do you mean, my plan was stupid? Then why are you even still--God James, you are such a dick. You're just watching me strut up here and I must look like a total asshole.

You know, it's one thing to kill a bunch of dorkbutts; it's another to be disrespectful.

(sits down on steps leading to main firing console, slumps over with elbows on knees)

At least...that's what my dad used to say, when he was even around that is. But what does he know--you know what, nevermind, James.

(James walks over, sits down next to Villain)

You don't want to hear about it. It's faggot stuff. For faggots. Like you. (sniffle) Like....(sniffle) you I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!

(Villain begins bawling and hitting James' chest weakly, James holds him tight during this catharsis)'

I hate you old man! You're the one who made me go to finishing school for supervillains! I didn't want to go. I was going to be in the touring company of the Boston Ballet, but you said that wasn't "man's work." As if 8 hours of leg lifts and lifting ballerinas isn't "man's work!" You try it, you weak ass faggot! You know what Old Man, I'll show you man's work I'LL SHOW YOU MAN'S WORK I WILL FUCKING SHOW YOU MAN'S WORK!

(Villain kisses James. There is a horrible beat as they look at each other. James, terrified, pushes him away, wipes his lips, spits a little in disgust, and rushes to the door in utter shock)

What? Where are you-- I thought that's what this was all about. The sexy way you threw those lock-picked manacles at me, the the way you let me put my hands on you---Wait, YOU GET BACK HERE! We have to talk about this!

THIS HAPPENED, JAMES! You fucking faggot, James!

(door slams, James is gone. He can be heard vomiting outside for a moment before shambling off.)

Fuck.

(Villain shrieks after at top of lungs)
IF YOU TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS I'll INVENT A RAY THAT'LL ERASE YOUR FAVORITE THINGS: CHAMPAGNE, SPORTS CARS, AND BALLS, JAMES. I WILL!!! Screw this. I'm going to the arcade. Fucking Millipede. Fuck. Yeah, Millipede. Fuck.

James Bond. Ha. (pounds fist into hand) What a dork.

Heh heh.

Yeah, dork...butt. Dorkbutt! That's a good one. I got him. I'll have to email him and tell him. He'll think that's funny.

Ah....James. Someday.

(starts singing Cutting Crew's I ALMOST DIED IN YOUR ARMS from their debut album BROADCAST. He grabs his jacket and leaves.)