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Goldnojaws marched up to Bond with the air of a man who has just won the battle and knows he is now going on to win the war, then rather spoiled the effect by climbing up onto his desk chair, the only way he could look down at Bond, which he did for a good half minute before he finally spoke. When he did his voice was full of loathing. “Pick me up and put me on my desk, would you, Mr Bond?” he spat out. “Well it is you who are now on my desk.” "So it would appear," said Bond laconically, sounding a lot calmer than he felt. Goldnojaws went on. "I'd be far better off in a gnome, would I? Well you would be far better off in a swamp, up to your neck in quicksand and still sinking, or in a cageful of man-eating tigers that hadn't eaten for a week, or indeed anywhere except where you are now, because believe me Mr Bond where you are now is the very worst place you could be." He took a few seconds to calm down a little before continuing: "And now, is there anything you would like to know, anything you would like me to tell you before you begin your long slow journey to death?" Bond said nothing, contenting himself with looking at Goldnojaws with utter contempt. Goldnojaws went on. "Perhaps you would like to know exactly how I intend to dominate Stockport, and with it the world? Perhaps your feeble mind hasn’t worked that out yet?” Bond remained tight-lipped. The dwarf grew impatient.“Well, Mr Bond, do you want to know or don’t you?” Bond finally spoke. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me Goldnojaws, regardless of whether I want to know or not.” If there was one more certainty in the world, along with death and taxes, it was that power-crazed villains bent on world domination would reveal their plans to you once they had captured you. It came with the territory, the need to boast about their achievements apparently being obligatory with such despots. Bond had lost count of the number of times this had happened to him in the past. As he suspected, his sarcasm was completely wasted on Goldnojaws. |