The advertisement said that Omega Watches were James Bond's choice. I disagreed. It was one of the all too rare times when I got a delightful response.
I have been intrigued by your current advertisements: "James Bond's Choice".
The advertisement shows Bond James Bond, or at least one of his currents stand-ins, looking very dapper and, while if not actually seen to be wearing one of your watches, at least looking as if he would. His wrist is not actually visible - like most of the Bond legend it is left to the imagination.
However I would have thought that, when it comes to a good time, James Bond's Choice is for something a tad more tactile.
From his track record, his choice is for something with rounded breasts, taut stomach, pouting lips, hot sweaty thighs, a brain that has barely enough amperage to run a quartz watch and a predisposition to leap out of clothing and into the cot. He leans more towards Delta than Omega.
James Bond's Choice is for action, lots of doing things. He likes to get in, do what has to be done and get out. And the same goes for his spying activities.
No idle spectator, he gets in the thick of things. He gets involved.
Omega, on the other hand, is just a good watch.
Could this be a trifle passive for BJB?
Yours passing time, J. Cosmo Newbery.
The reply came from "Mrs Prunella Strangeways School for Young Ladies, Bond Street, London" and read:
Dear J. Cosmo
While keeping company with the night watch, unfortunately not an Omega, I have been enjoying some very enlightening and most amusing reading matter.
But as a could-have-been Bond Girl, I must protest. Lustily. I feel I must put right an apparent misconception. No, not you, but yours.
James would never have gone for or to "Hot Sweaty Thighs."Certainly from and quickly if he had - you know how I mean that.
Please correct all material where the reference is made to desirable thighs to read "slken" (Aah) and not H&S (Uggh).
You mention "tact" (well, "tactile") and James had it in all areas, especially in connection with the female anatomy. Particularly the brain. He knew that low amperage rarely blows the fuse.
Lustrously, Ms. Q.C. Mulberry.
PS: does your mystery "J" have any family connection to that other much written of heavenly body?
Well! I had to answer that!
My Dear Mulberry!
I should have known. The black dog barks at midnight.
It had all the signs but, never guessing that you would have survived the explosion, I was caught off guard. Well done.
Your defence of the silken thighed Bond girl, at the expense of the hot and sweaty version, while lustily put and understandable from your Mulberry connections, is factually incorrect.
It is a glaring flaw in the Bond girls that they only have a very short use-by date; the best-before seldom exceeds a short sojourn in a life-raft awaiting the arrival of the HMS Impregnable.
I am certain that the character of the inner thigh has a lot to do with this. A hot and sweaty pheromone drenched playground obvious heats his blood, focuses his mind, agitates his testosterone and, well, gets his dander up. Briefly at least.
Obviously, from family associations and the sheer logic of it, you must have silken thighs. Nothing personal, this is just a cold, clinical assessment of the information before me, Mulberry, but it seems that the reason why you never made it past the first draft of Bond Girl interviews was, and I don't want to put too fine a point on this, but I suspect you were too good for the cad.
I'd watch him if I were you.
Yours stirred, not shaken,
J. Cosmo Newbery.
PS: Coincidence or happenstance, the 'J' does stand for 'James'; often pronounced 'Shems' by the silver tongued, sweaty thighed operatives from the other side. All too often abbreviated to 'Jim' by the rough cast oafs at the US office.
I could equally enquire as to what the 'Q' stands for but I suspect it would be quite improper for us to be on first name terms. And besides I have a secret suspicion the answer may be a small piece of beige card bearing the words "Matinee. Admit One Adult. No Concessions".
PPS: You fool no-one by leaving 'Incorrigible' out of the title of Mrs Strangeways' school.