The Richest Girl in the World, Part 2/4
Parallel World Bond Movies
For Part 1 of Katrina’s amusing autobio-fantasy-delusion (or is it actually true, you just don’t know, do you, reader dearest?), click ye there. She was burbling on about her movie career, if I recall.
Seeing how much she simply loves talking about herself, darling, she has a little more burbling to do, this time about Bond, before she - possibly - starts getting to the fucking point.
Blofeld doesn’t get captured at the end of Spectre, by the way.
There, now how’s that for an attention grabber!
Obviously in your version he does. Which, I must say, is one of the most monumentally stupid plot-related decisions in the history of screenwriting, in my not-so-humble opinion. It totally negated the obvious possibility of rebooting the entire series so it reverts to the classic Bond vs. Spectre scenario.
Needless to say, we don’t make that dumbass schoolboy error. So, this is where our series goes in a completely different direction. First up, we don’t have your No Time to Die movie. I was, predictably, really thrilled with the opportunity to watch a brand new Bond movie that I’d never seen before. Aside from the equally awful decision to kill off Blofeld (also including the obscene glorification of your inhuman torture facility known as ‘HMP Belmarsh’) I did, as it happens, really like the rest of this movie, especially the beautiful ending. There is, after all, something disturbingly aesthetic about those twisting cruise missiles. I say disturbing, psychologically, because these are essentially horrific killing machines made to look like a bunch of cool fireworks. Curiously enough, however, our version of Spectre ends in curiously similar fashion… Still, that’s multiversal molecule theory for you.
Anyhow, for our part, we reboot the series with a two-parter, consisting of Illuminata (2017), followed by Endgame (2018). By the end of Endgame we have successfully completed the reboot, where you get to see our (Spectre’s) cool underground complex. It’s actually beneath the seabed in the English Channel, now you ask. We have others. So yes, given the incessant questioning I end up with about my Bond movie character, I can’t really resist revealing that I was a bad guy all along (ask any actor/actress if they want to play a supervillain and they’ll bite your hand off – it’s totally true). My character’s name (not revealed until towards the end of Skyfall) is Theresa Katarina Blofeld, Ernst Stavro’s cousin. So I’m kind of like ‘number one’ in the organisation. At the end of Skyfall I have succeeded in our long-term plan of manipulating the downfall of Judi Dench’s M and my taking her place. In Goldeneye, by the way, I start off as a junior support officer in the 00-section, known only by the letter ‘K’, then move up the ranks as the series progresses. There’s a confrontation with Bond in Spectre, in which I manage to convince the ‘stupid policeman’ that I hate Spectre and have been infiltrating it, and ‘now it’s time, 007, to fulfil this section’s original purpose – wipe them out.’ So Bond takes the bait…
Anyhow, after Daniel (that was his last outing), we now have Tom Hiddleston, since you were wondering. The latest one, Tom’s third, is called Zero Zero Sum, which, ironically, came out on general release very shortly before I was unceremoniously dumped into your dirty, polluted version of Paris. The planned next one, in a few years’ time, is already scheduled to be The Killing Moon, in which – yeah! – Bond gets to go back into space. It’s about time. Obviously, the theme song is a reworked version of the Echo & The Bunnymen classic.
We also have a Bond spin-off series, featuring 0010, who is female. Before people found out the true nature of my character, there was much speculation about me becoming a future female Bond – no, that would be far too clichéd. Still, a female Bond-type character was definitely on the cards. We are, you may have guessed, a far more feminist world than yours, which is essentially still patriarchal (which is part of your problem, of course). So alongside myself we have a plethora of supercool kickass female leads. 0010 first appeared in Illuminata, then, due to popular acclaim, was given her own series. One of the other main differences between our Bond movies and yours is that even from Goldeneye we (or the producers, that is) decided to consciously turn it into a series, with an ongoing storyline (Spectre’s long-term plan) and clear character development, whilst still being able to watch each movie as a standalone. Obviously 007 is the main character, but those around him are no longer there simply to provide scenery. Well, reader dear, it works.
So, if the current producers of your Bond movies want to correct their continuity mistake, and reboot the series, then re-introducing a version of my character is the way to do it. I already have a good, well-outlined story idea, if they are interested (if they’re not, then I’ll just rename the main characters to avoid intellectual property issues and make the movie myself – then we can compare whose is best). And happily enough, having de-aged thirty-one years, I can start over again. And no, it won’t matter that I told you the truth about my other character already – that’s the postmodern surprise. Trust me, darling, I am the Queen of Postmodernism. Anyhow, if they’re interested, they know how to get in touch.
Hmm. I’m already at around another thousand words for this thrilling instalment, and you can’t stay here all day. Be comforted, reader darling, my new friends in this world have become accustomed to my winding digressions and spiralling flights of fantasy, but still, they often wish you’d just get to the fucking point, Katrina. I have told them they can just say that to me if they wish, kind of like a submissive saying ‘red’. In which case I would endeavour to please.
To be continued…
Haha fooled you! To be continued now!
So, richest girl in the world, eh? How the fuck did that happen?
As you may have surmised, the more I drone on about my life in the other world, in all its dramatic detail, the further they progress into the next phase of reacting to me once they make my acquaintance. Namely, the return of scepticism. They think I must be a fantasist. Credit to them, however, because they do have innate psychological instincts, easily concluding that this entire life story is nothing but a perfectly understandable compensatory fantasy for a childhood characterised solely by category A child abuse. It’s a story in which I had perfect parents, perfect friends, the most perfect and idyllic childhood in which I grew up to be super intelligent and beautiful and charming and then, after moments of dramatic peril and plot twists in which I miraculously survived I inspired enough people to make our world a better place. I am not, as it happens, so immodest that I claim to have single-handedly made my world a better place – no one person can do that – but what I do claim is that if you have friends, and enough of them (which depends entirely on your character), then yes, maybe you can change the world. I made it easy for people to love me, my life just fell into a real world drama in which the viewers identified with me, they followed my trials and tribulations and rooted for me. And they were a part of it too. And we, the people, won.
But that’s another story. In a different place.
I have never, really, cared whether people think I am a fantasist. People do feel sorry for me, of course – and I really, really don’t like being pitied – I survived, after all, and I am a brilliant and beautiful person. Actually – I had better switch to the plural pronoun ‘we’ there, really. It was a team effort. We, my alters and me, are a family. And there are no sufficient words to describe the utter love and loyalty we have for each other. We survived. And now we have a new life. And we are determined not to waste a single drop. So call us fantasists if you wish – you will not find us caring in the slightest, Mr. Tabloid Editor.
But yeah, the more I describe about my life in the other world the more fantasist I appear. But like I said, I don’t mind, because I know it’s real. Here’s the thing you have to remember – my memories of the other world are as real and tangible to me as yours are of your life in this world. It goes way beyond the classic ‘delusion’ – if you find someone with a delusion and keep on asking them for more and more detail, you will find that at some point they either run out of that detail and/or they inevitably run into what we narrative theorists would call ‘continuity errors’. That’s the point when either the delusion breaks down, as do they, or they get all defensive and aggressive, because holding on to their delusion is a matter of personal survival for them. Believers in official narratives are a bit like that, I’ve noticed.
But me, no, I’m not like that. Obviously, I have the perfect psychological get-out card, which is that nothing I say can be contradicted seeing as it all happened in a parallel world, and trust me, there are no continuity errors.
Ironically, though, to be continued…
This mini-series now reminds me of Matt Haig's novel 'The Humans'. Or a female version of 'The Man Who... Fell to Earth' (rather than... 'Mistook His Wife For a Hat' 🤔).
reading your inner monologue is a curious pleasure 😄 the Bond film comparisons are such a homage ...it shows a deep love of the works and also you weave it into your other dimension themes so well... OF COURSE theyve got bond films in other dimensions. the sun also rises there i suspect. i know you have a lot more of this Katy world written and or intended to be written. my love.of a ripping yarn would like to see a big chunk of it as a book. there are lots if small chunks of it here and there showcasing some of your ideas but I am tantalised.