Grouse walked through the door to the reception at MI6 and threw his hat and jacket clear across the room, landing perfectly on the hat rack. It was impressive. It was even more impressive due to the fact that grouse don't usually wear hats or jackets but he was just that fucking suave.
"Oh, it's nice to see you again Famous", said the receptionist. She was horribly smitten by Grouse. This is because she was a girl and all girls were horribly smitten by Grouse.
"The pleashure ish all mine Tenderpensh" replied Grouse as he handed her a single rose.
Tenderpence giggled, "I'm still waiting for that ring Famous."
" We'll have to shee about that"
"Grouse, would you skip the canoodling and get in my office", M buzzed over the PA.
"Of coursh"
Grouse entered the office. Behind the desk sat a meerkat, munching down on marmite.
"Ahh, good of you to join me double-oh-zeta, I trust you've heard the news already"
"I hear alot of thingsh", was Grouse's requisite snappy response. He actually hadn't heard the news because he had been sexin' up pretty much the entire time between the last chapter and now (yes, even on the aeroplane, there was a confused stewardess in the back). The reason why that wasn't included as it's own chapter is because this story is PG you fucking perverts.
M continued, unabashedly ignoring 00ζ's snark, "Then as I'm sure you know, last night one of our dry-docked nuclear submarines was stolen. Amongst it's cargo was 6 SLMB's capable of launching a nuclear payload to anywhere on the planet. You can understand the seriousness and delicacy of the situation?"
"I've never been a fan of delicate"
"I'm well aware of that fact 00ζ and wouldn't be talking to you otherwise... only you see, whoever has hijacked our sub is yet to contact any government, ours included. We simply cannot have some maniac out there on the loose with nuclear capabilities and have no idea who it is or what their intentions may be."
"Sho where do I come into all of thish?", mused Grouse
" Ahh, well luckily one of our videocameras managed to capture a picture of one of the hijackers before our system went down. It's a bit blurry but from what I can make out, it appears to be a smallish mouse with an eyepatch over the left eye."
"Bandicoot"
Look at that evil bastard, plotting awayawwwww HE'S SO CUTE!
"Our thoughts exactly. Now, as you have more intelligence on this particular villian than any other agent, I'm assigning you to investigate and to figure out what they could possibly want with that sub".
Grouse sighed heavily, "What you mean to shay ish that really you're jusht putting me in charge of shaving the world again aren't you? AGAIN?"
"In short yes, but there's no time to argue the point. Now if you'll go down to Q labs, there is some new field equipment that you'll need for your mission"
Grouse started down the elevator to Q labs. These were the sort of times where he really appreciated his job, when he understood why he was a super-top-secret-spy. He didn't do it for the money or the girls or the near endless supply of Aston Martins. No, he did it all for the badass elevator music.
Alas, all good things must come to an end, and Grouse left the elevator to be met by Desmond Llewelyn.
"It's about time you got here".
"I've been bishy"
"Yes well, hurry along"
Desmond Llewelyn went over to a table and picked up a watch,
"Now 00ζ, this is our newest standard issue Omega Seamaster Watch, it comes complete with..."
However, instead of listening, Grouse's full attention was directed towards a gold pen that was sitting in a coffee mug on the table.
"Don't touch that!" cried Desmond Llewelyn just as Grouse clicked the end of the pen. A cyanide tipped dart flew across the room, embedding itself in a graduate student's neck. The student stared right at Grouse with a surprised look on his face before dropping to the ground dead.
Desmond Llewelyn snatched the pen out of Grouse's hand, "How many times must I tell you not to play with things. You're lucky that was just a graduate student and not someone valuable".
"I shuppose the pen truly ish mightiar than the shord"
"Quite, now if you'll come this way, you'll find that I've outfitted another Aston Martin DB5 with all sorts of handy gadgets; although it's pretty much inevitable that you'll have completely destroyed the car by the end of week. Honestly, I don't know why MI6 keeps giving these to you - half their budget must be allocated to "Cars for Famous Grouse". It's ridiculous. I could rig up a Volvo with an ejector seat and some headlamp machine guns just as easily and that thing would never get destroyed - no matter what hell you put it through. But no, instead my work is constantly being interrupted by M going, ' Oh, oh! Desmond Llewelyn, 00ζ's gone and completely wrecked a $200,000 vehicle', and that's the pricetag before my modifications mind you, 'could you pretty please make another for him?'. NO. FUCK. GET YOUR OWN FUCKING CAR YOU IRRESPONSIBLE TWAT. How the hell have you even got a driver's licence? I mean, the licence to kill I understand, you happen to be very good at killing people and just causing ridiculous amounts of mayhem in general but please please be careful with this car. If I have to build another, I may just go absolutely nutty.
For possibly the first time in his life, Grouse was completely speechless. He didn't even have a snappy comeback. Desmond Llewelyn, on the other hand, seemed to return to form just as quickly as he'd lost it.
"Anyways, this one's pretty standard. Secret glovebox, ejector seat, extendible spikes in the hubcaps, and machine guns in the headlights".
Desmond Llewelyn handed the keys over to Grouse and, in a spectacular display of indifference to instructions, Grouse put the car into reverse, gunned it to 40 miles and backed over a two foot concrete abutment without slowing down, before whipping it around 180 degrees and flying out of the garage door entrance to Q labs.
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