BOND ON BREXIT

It’s late and at an ungodly early hour in the morning a travel weary Bond enters the private residence of M, Chief of the Secret Intelligence Service MI6.

“Good morning ma’am I understand you wanted to see me?”

“Yes Bond, I suppose you’ve seen the papers?”

“There’s no avoiding the headlines ma’am.”

“So you are aware of the situation?”

“It’s drastic, or so the media says.”

“Well, see for yourself.”

M hands Bond a dossier, classification- ‘Top Secret’, mission- ‘Last-Gasp’ title, “Brexit.”

Bond scans the pages and, as all agents of his refined ability are able to, he uses his photographic memory to take in both facts and faces.

“If I might say so ma’am this situation is awesome indeed, and not in a good way.”

“Quite.”

“So just how did we find ourselves in this situation?”

“Oh where the hell have you been James?! Never mind I know where you’ve been, China, Russia, Saudi, Brazil I suppose.”

“I don’t quite understand, the Europeans are our allies and friends of ours, surely we need as many friends as possible with the shape of things as bleak as they appear to be at the moment.”

“Well, things have got complicated.”

Oh?

“Do you remember Nigel Farage?”

“Who?”

“David Cameron?!”

“Yes, of course, the former Prime Minister, where is he in all this?”

“Quite, never mind, well we have, that is Her Majesty’s government has decided that we, at the request of the people, will become err how shall I best put it- ‘independent’.”

“What the Secret Service independent of the government?”

“No, James you fool! The United Kingdom of Europe, please pay attention!”

“And Felix, and our American friends, the ‘special relationship’? They can’t help us out of this?”

“Well no, not really. Not only do they have someone at the helm that we don’t have full confidence in but also we were rather more useful to them as a, well a bridge to Europe. Now it appears we’re leaving Europe and pulling the bridge up behind us.”

“But I don’t quite understand what it is you want me to do here ma’am.”

“Well, frankly you’re our only hope.”

“Shoot to kill?”

“No, of course not.”

“It’s really just a massive charm offensive, it seems all our usual plays are failing. It appears the charm offensive and diplomacy from the foreign office and government ministers have been lost in translation and arrogant onslaught has been interpreted. We desperately need you to visit some ambassadors, leaders even, try to mend bridges apparently irreparable.”

“You may need some gadgets, if so see Q although I really don’t think they’ll work and you can forget the whole tux thing, they’ll see straight through that.”

“So to be straight, you want me, in 100 days or so, to meet with and charm under the table numerous European leaders. To ensure that we stay part of one of the world’s most powerful economic blocks, rich in cultural diversity and bound to us by decades of trade agreements, human rights accords etc etc thus allowing us to benefit from all that gives us rather than being restricted to our own diminished establishment which, no offence intended, is showing signs of neglect?”

“More or less James, yes and make sure that we come out of it all looking Great, and as strong if not stronger than before.”

“Forgive me for saying ma’am but it appears to me that we are going through some sort of an identity crisis. Strange. It reminds me of a US acquaintance of mine, who suffered similarly. Caused terrible anxiety and stress.”

“Oh, and who might that be?”

“ You may have heard of him. Bourne, Jason Bourne.”

“No.”

“Well, let’s see what I can do. I do have my language skills, which they’re unused to in an Englishman but even if I do convince them to take us back or even listen it’s not them but us with the problem in-house. I think this might be a job for a politician after all.”

“God no James. Please think! Whatever you have to do, think. Think about the kids, think about the environment, do whatever you have to but save this situation, we’re depending on you in our final hour of need. Home or abroad you’re our only hope. Now it’s late and I’m off to bed. I expect some positive news over the next week. You’ve never let us down before 007, for our future, find the solution but jolly well hurry up as everyone’s getting quite upset about this.”

“I’ll try my best ma’am.”

“I know you will James, good night.”

“Good night ma’am.”

*Although events described in this sketch are real and may upset readers of a more sensitive condition, the characters Bond, M and Bourne are entirely fictitious.