Dashing delivery dude
Amazon, the company owned by Jeff Bezos, which streams television programmes and films, and also delivers products in overlarge cardboard boxes to your door, has taken full creative control of the James Bond franchise.
It’s predicted that Amazon will produce new Bond movies, and maybe even a TV show, though perhaps Bezos hired 007 as a package delivery bloke.
The unfortunate Bond will have to trade in his iconic Aston Martin for a van, though he’ll still be armed with his trusty Walther PPK handgun.
Which will come in handy when the former superspy gets any grief from customers, as played out in the following scenario…
Customer: (Outraged) I ordered a set of paper plates and you’ve brought me an oil painting of Napoleon Bonaparte!
Bond: (Shrugging insouciantly) Lucky you. Now you can eat your lunch off Napoleon’s face.
Customer: And the box it came in is the size of a blue whale’s coffin…
Bond: Blue whales aren’t buried in coffins. They prefer to get cremated.
Customer: And why on earth are you wearing a tuxedo and bowtie to deliver household goods?
Bond: (pulling handgun from tuxedo) Will that be all, sir?
Customer: Ulp! Yes, thanks. A-a-and do have a nice day, won’t you?
If only the Diary had a Bond-like employee to fend off all the feverish fans who arrive at our office door desperate to meet their heroes.
It’s our own fault, of course, for supplying those fans with so many entertaining tales, such as the following classic yarns from our archives…
Slippy sis
A reader was on the train to Glasgow when she heard a teenager tell her pal about her sister having a baby, before adding: “She then gave me the baby to hold. And when you think how often I’ve dropped my phone, that was pretty brave of her.”
Communication breakdown
At an office party a Glasgow reader witnessed a young woman, who perhaps had imbibed too much, discussing her ex-boyfriend with some female colleagues.
She told them: “He texted ‘Stop calling me’. I just wonder what he really means by that. Do you think I should perhaps phone and ask him?”
Frightful feast
We recall the tale of the little girl who was being looked after by her grandparents, and was overheard saying that they had given her bones for dinner.
This gothic revelation was undermined a tad when the grandparents explained it was actually spare ribs.
Flying high
A Renfrewshire reader at the Duty Free shop at Glasgow Airport read the sign at the door which proudly proclaimed: “More than you would imagine.”
He tells us that after looking at their prices, he heartily agreed.
Modern romance
The dating game.
The Diary recalls the poor chap who was nicknamed by his pals Mr Duvet because women turned him down so often…
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