You Only Laugh Twice

Sidey’s weekend theme was “joke” and while I sort of missed the weekend I still had a go, which via Microsoft Works, Microsoft Word, a USB key, my computer at work and five minutes borrowed from work I bring to you now…….

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It started with a joke.

A couple of months ago I wrote a post in which I listed ten totally spoof facts about myself. Time moved on, as did I, but yesterday my doorbell rang and a lady who looked a lot like Dame Judy Dench was standing there.

“Good morning,” she said, handing me a business card. I looked at it – all that was on it was a single letter.

“W”, I said.

She sighed, took the card, turned it round and handed it back. “M”, she said. “I’m head of MI6, and we’ve been spying upon you, Mr Tinman.”

“Spying on me? How?” I asked.

“We’ve been reading your blog.”

“That’s not technically spying,” I said.

“Of course it is,” she snapped. “We’ve been finding out things about you without your knowledge. If that isn’t spying I don’t know what is.”

A point struck me at this point. “Hang on,” I said, “how do you know I’m Tinman? I never give my real name or address, so how did you find me?”

Not her, then

“Well, at various times on your blog you’ve revealed that you’re a stud-muffin and that you’re partly made of metal. That narrowed it down to you or Seven of Nine from Star Trek, and she doesn’t live in Ireland.”

“I see,” I said, impressed, “but why are you here?”

“We want you to come and work for us,” she said. “We think you have valuable talents.”

“Such as?”

She took an iPad from her bag and showed it to me. My post was on the screen. “It says here that you can speak ten languages. Is Russian one of them?”

“Er, no,” I said, “because none of that-“

“No matter,” she said, “if you can speak that many languages you’ll soon pick it up. Now, you also say that you can pick up Radio Luxembourg on your pacemaker. We think we can modify it so that you can intercept secret signals.”

“Em,” I began.

“Yes?” she said.

“No, not M, I meant em, have you ever heard of humour in MI6?”

“Of course,” she replied, “we use it all the time, though it consists purely of double entendres and really bad puns when one of our enemies is killed. Why do you ask?”

“Well,” I said, “if you read that post it also says that I was raised by bears.”

“Yes, we were very interested by that. You must be excellent at unarmed combat and strong as a, well, bear.” She looked a bit doubtful as she stared at my 5’5” frame. “Well,” she continued, “perhaps you’ve let yourself go a bit. Anyway, what do you think? You’ll get a gun, visit exotic locations and meet beautiful Russian spies who will fall in love with you because you are, as you say (the doubtful look returned, just for a second), a stud-muffin.”

It still wasn’t too late to tell her that the whole post had been a joke, but by now I was intrigued. If this was the level of intelligence of secret intelligence I felt that I might go a long way.

I shook her hand. “My name is Man,” I said, “Tin Man.”

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7 thoughts on “You Only Laugh Twice

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