Having fun in the sun Goodnight?
Yes – I could stay here forever!
(tasting the wine) Excellent – slightly reminiscent of a Vert du von
SCARAMANGA: Then I must add it to my cellar.
You live well Scaramanga.
SCARAMANGA: At a million dollars a contract I can afford to Mister
Bond. You work for peanuts, a hearty well done from Her Majesty The
Queen and a pittance of a pension – apart from that we are the same.
To us Mister Bond – we are the best!
There’s a useful four-letter word, and you’re full of it. When I
kill it’s on the specific orders of my government, and those I kill
are themselves killers.
SCARAMANGA: Come come Mister Bond, you disappoint me – you get as
much fulfilment out of killing as I do so why don’t you admit it?
I admit killing you would be a pleasure.
SCARAMANGA: You should have done that when you first saw me – but
then of course the English don’t consider it sporting, to kill in
cold blood do they?
Don’t count on that.
SCARAMANGA: I could have shot you down when you landed, but that
would have been ridiculously easy. You see Mister Bond, like every
great artist I want to create an indisputable masterpiece once in my
lifetime – the death of double-o-seven, mano y mano, face-to-face –
will be mine.
You mean stuffed and displayed over your rocky mantelpiece?
SCARAMANGA: That’s an amusing idea, but I was thinking in terms of
history – a duel between Titans – my Golden Gun against your Walther
PPK, each of us with a fifty-fifty chance.
Six bullets to your one?
SCARAMANGA: I only need one.
Sounds a bit old-fashioned doesn’t it? I mean, pistols at dawn –
that sort of thing.
SCARAMANGA: Indeed it is Mister Bond – but it still remains the
only true test for gentlemen.
I doubt if you qualify on that score – however, I accept – as soon
as I’ve finished this delicious lunch that Nick Nack has prepared