Original subtitles

Nick Nack, Tabasco

Right away, Monsieur Scaramanga.

Half. You get the rest later.

Wait for him in there, through that door.

He will join you in a minute.

Your steam bath is ready, Monsieur Scaramanga.

That would have been too easy.

It's locked.

You'll have to look elsewhere, monsieur.

Hey, Al.

Al. Wherever you are, don't hold it against me.

l wonder where you can find your gun, Monsieur Scaramanga.

Your little golden gun.

Where can it be?

There is something we haven't had before.

I wonder what it can be.

I fooled you!

You're getting warmer.

Much warmer.

Now, how are you going to get down the stairs?

You're so near.

And yet so far.

Bravo, Monsieur Scaramanga.

You've done it again.

-This one was the best, n'est-ce pas? -Not bad. Not bad at all.

But you'll have to do better if you want my money.

l'll get you yet, and l'll enjoy every sou you leave me.

You'll be the death of me yet, Nick Nack.

Good morning, sir.

Colthorpe.

Chief of staff.

What do you know about a man called Scaramanga, 00 7?

Scaramanga?

Oh, yes. The man with the golden gun.

Born in a circus, father the ringmaster. Possibly Cuban.

Mother English, a snake charmer.

A spectacular trick-shot artist by the time he was 1 0...

...and a local Rio gunman at 1 5.

The KGB recruited him, trained him in Europe...

...where he became an overworked, underpaid assassin.

He went independent in the late '50s.

Current price, 1 million dollars a hit.

No photograph on file.

But he does have one distinguishing feature, however.

-A superfluous papilla. -A what?

A mammary gland. A third nipple, sir.

He always uses a golden bullet, hence, ''man with the golden gun.''

Present domicile, unknown.

l think that's all.

Why, sir?

Charming trinket.

-Even has my number on it. -Precisely.

Obviously, it's useless as a bullet.

Who'd pay a million dollars to have me killed?

Jealous husbands, outraged chefs, humiliated tailors.

The list is endless. Moreover, this trinket, as you call it...

...was sent with a note, requesting special delivery to you.

lt's initialed with an S.

Scaramanga's fingerprints were on it. They've been verified by the ClA.

-Why would he alert me? -Psychological.

He counts on his reputation to terrify his intended victim.

Thank you, gentlemen.

l'm relieving you of your present assignment, 00 7.

-Sir. -Yes?

The energy crisis is still with us.

l respectfully submit that finding Gibson and his solar-cell data...

...is more important than ever.

lt is indeed.

And l can't jeopardize it, or any mission...

...by having Scaramanga pop up and put a bullet in you.

l'll endorse your request to resign.

Or you can take a sabbatical and go to ground until this matter's settled.

Or until he kills me.

Nobody knows where he is, or what he looks like.

So l think it's fair to assume that he has the edge on you.

Wouldn't you agree? That's all, 00 7.

lf l found him first, sir...

...that might change the situation.

Dramatically, wouldn't you say?

Good day, Bond.

-Moneypenny, Fairbanks. -Alaska.

No. Bill Fairbanks, 002.

-Oh, poor Bill. l miss him. -The man with the golden gun didn't.

Officially, that was never confirmed.

-Where was 002 when it happened? -Beirut, '69.

ln a cabaret, with a lady called Saida.

Beirut?

Moneypenny, you are better than a computer.

ln all sorts of ways.

But you never take advantage of them.

-Miss Moneypenny? -Yes, sir.

Just one moment, darling.

Yes, James?

Why wasn't Scaramanga confirmed as the killer?

Because they couldn't find the bullet.

Darling.

-Ahmed. -Ahmed.

Good evening. My name is Bond. James Bond.

Your dancing is superb.

-So are you. -Merci.

And you are very handsome.

Well, l don't usually intrude like this, but l....

l believe we had a mutual friend: Bill Fairbanks.

Fairbanks?

Yes.

l am told you were with him...

...when he was rather rudely interrupted.

Ah, mais oui, Bill!

What a terrible night. l will never forget it.

-Did you see who shot him? -No, l was in his arms.

My eyes were closed.

-At least he died happy. -The bullet went through him!

Through his back and ended up there?

No, no. Through his neck.

l take it out of the wall before the police arrive.

And now it is my lucky charm.

l never dance without it.

l'm sure Bill would have loved that.

But let us forget the past.

l was hoping you'd say that.

Are you staying long in Beirut?

lt depends.

Clumsy of me.

You really do have a magnificent abdomen.

Oh, my perfumes!

No!

l've lost my charm!

Not from where l'm standing.

Taxi. Hotel, mister?

No. The nearest pharmacy.

Dumdum bullets like this flatten on impact...

...for maximum wounding effect.

-Very nasty. -Yes, l'm sure it is.

Just tell me where it was made, and by whom.

Well, fortunately, it's all in one piece.

20.003 grams.

Which leads us to deduce it was fired from a 4.2-millimeter gun.

There's no such thing as a 4.2-millimeter gun.

The fact that no recognized munitions manufacturer...

...military or civil, produces such a bullet...

...doesn't mean it doesn't exist, 00 7.

Q branch have been making irregular calibers for most unusual purposes.

And we don't put markings or serial numbers on them.

Making identification almost impossible.

There's no way to trace that bullet?

You've no idea what it went through to get here.

l wouldn't go so far as to say that.

The workmanship is undemanding, according to our standards.

Soft 23-karat gold with traces of nickel.

Hardly ever used in Europe. Comes from lndia.

Far East?

-Why not lndia? -Nickel content obviously too low.

-Lazar? -Lazar?

lmaginative. Highly specialized.

Yes! l concur.

What the hell is Lazar?

Not what. Who. Portuguese. Lives in Macau.

Chap who made the bullet, 00 7.

l hate to interrupt your dinner, but does Se?or Lazar live here?

''Lazar.''

l was given this address.

Does he--?

Se?or Lazar?

My name's Bond. James Bond.

An unexpected, honor Mr. Bond.

Your reputation precedes you. This way, please.

lt would be the proudest moment of my career...

...if l could make something for you, Mr. Bond. A rifle, perhaps?

Now here we have an interesting problem.

A custom-built model for a client...

...who recently lost two fingers.

-Please. -Also lost his trigger.

lt is housed in the butt. Squeeze it.

The sights are a bit off.

You have five fingers. The butt is balanced for the pressure of three.

That is why you were one inch too low.

Here you will find only craftsmanship and quality.

Mass production...

...your Walther PPK, for instance, l leave to others.

What about ammunition?

Designed to individual requirements, whatever they may be.

ln gold, if l wanted?

-l've already done that for a client. -l know you have.

Francisco Scaramanga.

My relationship with a client, Mr. Bond, is strictly confidential.

Like a doctor. A priest with a penitent.

Of course.

Yet you make guns for fingerless hoodlums.

Bullets for assassins.

Mr. Bond, bullets do not kill. lt is the finger that pulls the trigger.

Exactly.

l am now aiming precisely at your groin.

So speak, or forever hold your piece.

l've never seen Mr. Scaramanga.

On a cost-per-bullet basis, he must be your best customer.

True, but unfortunately he seems only to fire them occasionally.

When was the...

...last shipment?

Mr. Bond, this is impossible. l can't--

You're quite right.

An inch too low.

l've just completed an order for immediate delivery.

-Who collects them? -l swear l do not know.

My instructions are to go to the casino. l'm paid and they vanish.

In a few moments, we will be in Hong Kong harbor...

...one of the busiest ports in the world.

Have your passports and landing cards ready...

...in order to avoid unnecessary delay.

On our left is the wreckage of the famous liner Queen Elizabeth...

...which sank here under mysterious circumstances in 1 97 1.

Ahead, you can now see Kowloon.

And on your right, Hong Kong island.

Taxi!

Follow that Rolls.

Madame, would you be good enough to move this inverted bedpan?

l'm sorry l'm late, but your signal from Macau just reached the office.

You're a great help, Goodnight.

Get on to the license bureau and trace that car.

''A-U-6-0-3.'' A green Rolls.

A green Rolls?

A green Rolls-Royce.

There can't be that many in Hong Kong.

Courtesy cars. All green Rolls-Royces belong to the Peninsula Hotel.

See what a two-year posting to staff intelligence does for a girl?

James, it's wonderful to see you.

Where are you going?

l need some information.

The subject under surveillance occupies room 602.

l'll buy you dinner, but first l have official business to attend to.

Yes, l saw the official business.

Goodnight, would l do that to you, after two years?

Yes, you bloody well would!

-Please? -l can manage.

You could open a door for me, though.

-l open champagne? -No, it's a surprise.

Oh, a surprise.

Good afternoon.

-A water pistol? -Pass me that robe.

Turn around.

Do you always take a shower with a pistol?

Put your hands up and get out of here!

Keep on walking.

But you haven't answered my question.

Reception. Can I help you?

This is Miss Anders, room 602.

Put those down!

l see why these packets carry a government warning.

Give me that!

They certainly can damage your health.

You're hurting my arm!

l'll break it unless you tell me where those bullets go.

-l can't. -Try.

-He'll kill me! -Who?

l can't tell you!

Scaramanga.

You see what you can do when you try?

You work for him?

l don't work for him.

He's-- l'm his--

Oh, so he's a lover too.

Only before he kills.

Bullfighters do the same thing. Claims it improves the eye.

His eye is on me. Where can l find him?

l don't know.

l don't know.

-l said, where! -l don't know!

He doesn't tell me everything! He'll be at the Bottoms Up club tonight.

How will l recognize him?

-Tall, slim and dark. -So's my aunt.

-Anything distinctive about him? -Yes, but how can l--?

He's not like other people. He has three--

Fascinating anatomical tidbit.

But probably the most useless piece of information l ever heard.

Unless the Bottoms Up is a strip club...

...and Scaramanga is performing there.

You'll have to do better.

He usually wears a white linen suit, black tie.

And jewelry, all gold.

You're improving.

l don't want you to twist my arm again.

l don't want to either.

So l'll tell you what you'll do, Miss Anders.

You'll take those golden bullets to Mr. Scaramanga.

Because if he doesn't get them, he may not show up at the Bottoms Up.

And l want him there.

Why should you trust me?

l don't.

But neither will Mr. Scaramanga if he hears about this little conversation.

Who knows? He may even use one of those little golden bullets on you.

And that would be a pity.

Because they're very expensive.

l'll take them to him.

Let's drink to that.

Bottoms up?

-Soda or ginger ale? -Ginger ale, please.

Police! Drop it.

Drop it.

You're under arrest.

Move away from there!

lf you examine that gun, you'll notice it hasn't been fired.

Anything you have to say, you can say at the station.

l'm charging him under section 4 73.

-l didn't see your identity card. -You will.

-We're not going to the police station? -Kowloon side.

Kowloon's over there!

We're going to the New Territories.

Welcome aboard, Commander Bond.

This way, sir.

Down the hatchway, please.

Good evening, sir.

Would you follow me, please?

lt certainly gives you a new slant.

With the Chinese on one side and the American fleet on the other...

...down here's the only place in Hong Kong you can't be bugged.

And with current real-estate prices in Hong Kong, quite practical.

Any luck?

Chinese fighter we managed to salvage.

Good evening, 00 7.

Glad to see you're still with us.

ln the future, Bond, if you must tour the world of Suzie Wong by night...

...kindly inform our man here, Lieutenant Hip.

Sorry. l had to get you away from the Hong Kong police...

...but didn't know how much you knew.

Nothing. But l think l should report, sir...

...that Scaramanga does not have a contract on me.

He couldn't have missed me tonight. He hit some chap.

l got quite a shock when l saw who it was.

l should think you did.

Our missing solar energy expert, Gibson.

Yes, Gibson.

He was prepared to come back under certain conditions.

That's why l'm here with Professor Frazier.

Lieutenant Hip was making a preliminary contact.

l almost wish that Scaramanga had a contract on you.

-Was Gibson cooperative? -He wanted to bargain for immunity.

He suggested a meeting in Bangkok to discuss terms.

Why Bangkok?

l got the impression he worked there for Hai Fat.

-That name's come up before. -A multimillionaire.

Head of Hai Fat Enterprises. All legitimate, as far as we know.

What did Gibson propose bargaining with, lieutenant?

A solex. Claimed it was 95 percent efficient.

lf he developed a cell that efficient, he solved the energy crisis.

Yes, so you've told me.

Coal and oil will soon be depleted. Uranium is too dangerous.

Geothermal and tidal control, too expensive. l know all that.

-Where's the solex now? -Solex agitator, sir.

The essential unit to convert radiation from the sun...

...into electricity on an industrial basis. lt's only about that size.

lt won't take long to check out Gibson's efficiency claim.

This is really exciting now. May l see it?

He showed it to me at the bar and replaced it in his pocket.

And after he was shot...

...it wasn't there.

l looked.

Gentlemen, l congratulate you.

lnstead of getting our hands on a perfected solex...

...we're left with a useless corpse, and no leads.

One lead, sir.

Assuming Gibson was killed by Scaramanga...

...whoever hired him could afford a million dollars.

-Are you suggesting Hai Fat? -He could afford it.

Out of petty cash.

A thought just occurred to me.

lf Hai Fat hired Scaramanga...

...it's highly unlikely that he met him personally.

-Why? -lf anything goes wrong...

...there's nothing to connect the two.

And that gives me an idea as to how to approach him.

Q...

...l'll need this.

-Really, 00 7. -l admit it's a little kinky.

You'll take Miss Goodnight with you.

-Goodnight, sir? -After tonight's debacle...

...an efficient liaison officer wouldn't come amiss.

Thank you, sir.

You won't get anywhere near Hai Fat's.

l have relatives in Bangkok. l've often passed his place.

He lives in a big house on a mountainside, surrounded by guards.

No way.

The place is crawling with guards. Have a look.

Hai Fat takes his privacy very seriously.

l'm sure he'll see me.

Good morning.

How's the water?

Why don't you come in and find out?

-Sounds very tempting, Miss-- -Chew Mee.

Really?

There's only one small problem. l have no swimming trunks.

Neither have l.

What are you doing here?

Get out!

lmmediately!

l will have you--

Please forgive me, Mr. Scaramanga.

Excuse me, Chew Mee.

You understand my surprise.

l thought it was understood...

...we were never to meet, Mr. Scaramanga.

l always thought your abnormality was a myth.

There are cults where it's considered a sign of invulnerability...

...and great sexual prowess.

l've learned to live with it.

Why are you here?

-Bond. James Bond. -Do l know the gentleman?

Well, he knows you.

Without being immodest...

...hardly anyone in this part of the world doesn't.

There are very few people who haven't heard of Bond.

British secret service, 00 7, licensed to kill.

He's good, even by my standards.

-He was near the Bottoms Up club. -A coincidence.

l don't believe in them.

The man's a menace. He knows something.

Are you suggesting l invest another million to remove him?

That's up to you.

l will give it some thought.

Since you have chosen to meet me, perhaps you will dine here tonight.

l'll be delighted.

Nine o'clock, then.

Ling Po, see this gentleman out.

-Don't tell me you saw him. -He even invited me to dinner.

He must have found me quite ''tit-illating.''

ln due time...

...l shall be laid to rest here in my mausoleum.

After a useful, happy, long life.

And l do not intend to allow Mr. Bond to shorten it.

l'll get the car.

You know l'd much rather have dinner with you.

l understand, James. Please hurry back.

l'll ring as soon as l do. A midnight snack might be just the thing.

l'll keep the wine properly chilled.

And everything else warm, l trust.

-Bye-bye. -Bye-bye.

And everything else warm?

l hope you don't mind giving my nieces a lift.

Good evening.

Hai Fat is on the way.

l'll drop the girls, come back and hang around.

-Bye-bye. -Bye-bye.

The name's Scaramanga. Mr. Fat is expecting me.

''Grislyland.''

A pleasant evening.

Get him! Come on!

Stop it!

Not here!

This is my home.

Take Mr. Bond to school.

Heaven.

Definitely heaven.

-Are you all right? -How did you find me?

Hai Fat owns this place.

Stand back, girls.

Forgot to tell you.

Their father runs a karate school.

Hang on!

What you might call a Mexican screw-off, gentlemen.

Pretty lady, 1 00 baht.

Eighty baht. Sixty baht.

Pretty lady. Real elephant. Sixty baht.

Missy, yes, sir.

Elephant. Bargain, mister. Hundred baht.

Elephant. Real elephant.

Sixty baht.

You're a very handsome man. Forty baht.

For you, mister, 20 baht.

Sonny, l'll give you 20,000 baht if you can make this heap go any faster.

Twenty thousand baht!

l'm afraid l'll have to owe you.

Bloody tourist! Twenty thousand baht!

Goddamn little brown water hog!

Oh, what's the matter, J.W., hon?

You just try that in my bayou, boy! l'd haul your ass!

Oh, look, J.W.!

l just got to have me one of those cute little elephants.

Elephant!

We're Democrats, Maybelle.

lf you got your little pointy heads out of them pajamas...

...you wouldn't be late for work!

l knew it!

You pointy heads has no more idea of traffic control...

...than a gooney bird!

Get your cotton-picking schnoz out of my pants. Hear now?

Boy, you is ugly.

J.W.?

Where are you?

What do they teach in that school? Ballet dancing?

l find nothing remotely amusing about Mr. Bond's escape.

You underestimated him.

Even my influence doesn't extend into the British secret service.

l shall lie low too.

l won't jeopardize a project in which l've invested half my fortune...

...when it's ready to yield billions.

Where will you hide out?

That does not concern you. Take this.

Return it to the plant, and don't leave there without my permission.

May l remind you that you work for me.

l took you on as a junior partner to be an occasional convenience.

Nothing more. l did not hire you to interfere in my affairs.

-ls that clearly understood? -Yes, very clearly.

l now regret having even considered employing your services.

But that is beside the point.

Bond doesn't know you're in Bangkok. He's never seen you.

But he knows me. That's the problem.

There's no problem.

What happened?

Mr. Fat has just resigned.

l'm the new chairman of the board.

He always did like that mausoleum.

Put him in it.

Sorry about that, darling. lt was Hip.

No sign of Hai Fat. Every inquiry gets a polite oriental brush-off.

With the compliments.

''Phuyuck''?

'7 4, sir.

-l approve. -You do?

Oh, not the wine. Your frock.

Tight in all the right places. Not too many buttons.

Standard uniform for Southeast Asia.

The buttons are down the back.

Designed by Q, no doubt. One of them's a suicide pill, l suppose.

No. But the bottom one has a homer in it.

How original. A toast.

To this moment...

...and the moment yet to come.

ln our profession, l'm afraid...

...you never can count on that moment to come.

Who knows where you and l will be this time next year.

Opposite sides of the world, most likely.

That's too far apart.

Now, if Hip doesn't come up with a lead...

...there's nothing very much for us to do tonight.

Or is there?

Oh, darling, l'm tempted.

But killing a few hours as one of your passing fancies...

...isn't quite my scene.

Phuyuck.

Goodnight, what a pleasant surprise.

My hard-to-get act didn't last very long, did it?

l was trained to expect the unexpected...

...but they never prepared me for anything like you in a nightie.

James, l thought this would never happen.

-What made you change your mind? -l'm weak.

Don't move!

Miss Anders.

l didn't recognize you with your clothes on.

l bribed a bellboy to let me in.

l've come to warn you.

You're in great danger.

l usually am. That's why l use the old three-pillow trick.

Please believe me. l'm risking my life to come here.

Your concern for my well-being is touching...

...but puzzles me.

Scaramanga is in Bangkok.

He was in Hong Kong too, but not after me.

We've been through that routine.

He's a monster. l hate him.

Then leave him.

You don't walk out on Scaramanga.

There's no place he wouldn't find me.

You need a good lawyer.

l need 00 7.

Who do you think sent that bullet to London with your number on it?

l did.

And it wasn't easy getting his fingerprint on the note.

Forgive me if l've been a little slow on the uptake.

Don't you see you're the only man in the world who can kill him?

Now, what gives you that idea?

The way Scaramanga speaks about you.

Even has a likeness of you.

l'm flattered.

l want him dead.

Name your price. Anything. l'll pay it.

You can have me too, if you like.

l'm not unattractive.

At last you're starting to tell the truth.

l've dreamed about you setting me free.

l've been dreaming...

...about a solex agitator.

Ever heard of one?

Perhaps you can have that too.

-No, my clothes are in there. -Get in.

-l'll kill that woman. -Later.

Charming.

lt was an inspiration, sending that bullet.

You're late.

lt was a double feature.

What are you doing?

Putting my jewelry away.

You can come out now.

-What time is it? -Two-ish.

Two? You mean l've been in here for two hours?

All in the line of duty.

Duty. l'm resigning in the morning.

Goodnight, don't let us down. The service needs women like you.

Well, obviously you don't.

Forgive me, darling.

Your turn will come. l promise.

-As soon as she brings me that solex. -For killing Scaramanga?

lf she gets me the solex agitator first.

First?

James, you must be good.

We'll find out about that the next time l meet her.

She's making the arrangements.

Sorry l'm late. Bangkok traffic's worse than Piccadilly.

He's made contact.

How's the charm boy doing?

Need you ask?

Meet you outside.

Did you bring it?

Darling, l left it in your handbag.

lt must be in here somewhere. l saw the man in the shop give it to you.

Without the ticket, we can't get a receipt for customs.

You won't find it in there, Mr. Bond. l looked before you came.

l wouldn't do that, either. Look behind you.

Lower.

A gun in a bag of peanuts. How original. What next?

My name is Scaramanga.

Francisco Scaramanga.

l feel l know you, although l never thought we'd ever really meet.

lt's a very great pleasure for me, Mr. Bond, thanks to Miss Anders.

You've a strange way of showing your gratitude.

A mistress cannot serve two masters.

A difficult shot, but most gratifying.

Well, we all get our jollies one way or another.

Mine have always been guns, Mr. Bond.

When l was a boy, l was brought up in a circus.

My only real friend was a magnificent African bull elephant.

One day his handler mistreated him, and he went berserk.

Bleeding...

...dying, he came and found me.

Stood on one leg, his best trick...

...picked me up and put me on his back.

The man emptied the gun into his eye.

l emptied my stage pistol into his.

An eye for an eye. Nut?

You see, Mr. Bond, l always thought l liked animals.

Then l discovered l liked killing people even more.

Keep this. Whatever you do, don't lose it.

-l have to get back to help James. -Something's gone wrong?

-There's a midget with a gun on him. -A midget?

Same one l saw outside the Bottoms Up. The girl's dead. Call the police!

Forget the girl. She's replaceable.

And l shall find what she stole from me.

l've got nothing against you, Mr. Bond.

So let us hope our paths never cross again.

Please don't try to follow me.

Your peanut-toting friend back there wouldn't like it.

No, he wouldn't.

Do you want to try one of mine?

-Where's the solex? -Gave it to Goodnight.

-And where's Goodnight? -Outside.

She must be by the car.

Women. Walkie-talkie.

Goodnight, where are you?

Somebody locked me in a boot.

-ln a what? -The midget's car. I'm locked in.

lt's a bronze car...

...with a black roof, number 7543.

-The keys! -l haven't got them.

Oh, no.

-Goodnight, where are the car keys? -Oh, I've got the keys.

And l've got the solex too.

Taxi!

Stay in there. We've got you spotted.

Taxi, quickly!

Taxi!

-How about a demonstration, boy? -Certainly, sir.

What the hell is going on?

Now l know you!

Oh, no.

You're that secret agent!

That English secret agent from England!

You're chasing somebody.

Who you after this time, boy? Commies?

Let's go get them! l'm with you all the way.

l think we've got trouble.

Pull your cars over, you little brown pointy heads!

l'm a peace officer!

James? Are you still there? James?

Can you hear me? James?

-All right. Don't panic. -Who's that?

lt's--

-lt's headquarters. -Let me talk to them.

Hello. This is Sheriff J.W. Pepper, Louisiana state police.

Now, you call my wife at the Nari hotel...

...and tell her I'm on a mission.

l been deputized. Right?

Right.

Which car are we all chasing, boy?

Move it! Move it!

Get that piece of junk off the road!

They went to the left, boy.

Press that pedal, boy.

Where the hell they got to?

You goofed, boy.

Nearest bridge is two miles back.

Goddamn! What the--?

What's going on? What the hell you doing now, boy?

The bridge is that way!

-You're not thinking of-- -l sure am, boy.

Ever heard of Evel Knievel?

l never done that before.

Neither have l, actually.

Let's go get them, boy!

You stay put, boy.

This is my department.

Glad to see you boys on the ball!

Sheriff J.W. Pepper, Louisiana state police.

Here's my identification. The Law Enforcement Association, American--

Me and my partner here, we're on a secret mission.

What the hell you doing?

Give me my wallet back.

Doors.

You can't do this to me! l want my wallet back!

Take these goddamn bracelets off!

l'll sue you for false arrest! Police brutality!

l got connections! l'll get the FBl on your ass, the ClA!

Goddamn it, l'm gonna get Henry Kissinger!

Now, look at me when l'm talking to you, boy.

What? Ain't none of you pointy heads ever seen an airplane before?

James? James, are you still there?

Can you hear me? I think we've stopped.

That is all there is to report, sir.

So if l heard correctly, Scaramanga got away.

-Yes, sir. -ln a car that sprouted wings.

That's perfectly feasible. We're working on one now.

Oh, Q, shut up.

-Miss Goodnight was in the boot. -Yes, sir.

We found the car-plane abandoned about 200 miles west of Bangkok.

-And the solex? -ln Goodnight's handbag, sir.

-Where is Goodnight now? -We don't know, sir.

Communications aren't picking up the signal from the homer she has.

Rubbish! They're simply not stepping up the reception sufficiently to--

Oh, shut up, Q.

Of all the fouled-up, half-witted operations!

-What do you want? -We've picked up Goodnight's signal.

-Well, that's something. -But there's something rather curious.

Our sector's here, and we're receiving her signal...

...from somewhere off this coastline offshore here.

Now here it is on a much larger scale.

That's where she is, in this group of small islands.

That's all we need. Red Chinese waters.

We could stray inadvertently into them, sir.

l could fly low, under their radar screen.

Absolutely out of the question.

lf the PM gets to hear of this, he'll hang me from the yardarm.

Officially you won't know a thing about it, sir.

There's a small seaplane approaching your island.

Do you want us to take any action?

No. No, please don't do anything.

Yes, it's a guest l'm expecting.

No, he won't be leaving.

Bonjour, Monsieur Bond.

l am Nick Nack.

Dom Perignon, soixante-quatre.

l prefer the '62 myself. Still, beats a bag of peanuts.

Monsieur Scaramanga will welcome you personally.

Forgive me, Mr. Bond.

A vulgar display, but l couldn't resist it...

...because l am so delighted to see you again.

A harmless toy.

l am, as you can see now, completely unarmed.

Cigarette?

We have so much in common.

We have much to discuss. We'll never have this opportunity again.

Ours is the loneliest profession, so let's spend a few hours together.

How can l refuse such a gracious invitation?

Splendid! Splendid!

Nick Nack, l expect you to surpass yourself.

He's a cordon-bleu, you know.

By the way, where's Miss Goodnight?

She's around here somewhere.

There's no way for her to leave, so she does as she pleases.

How do you like my island?

Bit off the beaten track, isn't it?

lt's rent-free. l do my landlords an occasional favor.

A cosy arrangement. Servant problem, l suppose.

Not at all. Nick Nack does for me very nicely.

Usually it's just the two of us, but having guests is convenient.

We're self-supporting. We have every electric labor-saving device possible.

This is an air-lock, as you are doubtless aware.

Automatic, of course.

Actually, we have an ample supply of electricity here.

Let me show you.

This should run a few electric toothbrushes.

Up here.

A solar energy station. So this is what it's all about.

Thermoelectric generators to convert solar energy into electricity.

Built by Hai Fat's construction company, no doubt.

Somehow l seem to have inherited it from him.

lt's all fully automated. That's Kra. He looks after everything.

Nick Nack does everything else, when not polishing silver.

They tell me the electricity is stored in here somewhere.

Science was never my strong point.

Superconductivity coils cooled by liquid helium.

lf l were you, l wouldn't stick my finger or anything else in there.

At 453 degrees below zero, liquid helium would break it like an icicle.

You really know far more about it than l do, Mr. Bond.

l'm having every country that can afford it send their experts here.

But no solex until the money is in the bank, right?

Right.

-l have run across similar situations. -Not what l've got here.

The highest bidder can build hundreds of stations...

...and sell franchises for hundreds more.

He will literally have the sun in his pocket.

A monopoly on solar power.

The oil sheiks will pay you to keep solar energy off the market.

The thought had occurred to me.

This is the collection point.

So that's where it belongs.

Our solex in the still there transmits heat to the thermal generators.

lt's collected through this?

But where is it collected from? You need the sun.

Watch that mushroom-shaped rock.

lngenious, isn't it?

The panels lock onto the sun, then track it automatically.

Something like that. Yes.

Those panels must produce a heat...

...of at least 3500 degrees Fahrenheit.

lf you say so, Mr. Bond.

l do know we can focus the power wherever we want.

Over here. l'll show you.

This is a bonus.

lt goes with the solex. No extra charge.

This is the part l really like.

Now, that's what l call solar power.

That's what l call trouble.

You must admit, Mr. Bond, l am now undeniably...

...the man with the golden gun.

Lunch.

This way, Mr. Bond.

Ah, Miss Goodnight.

-James. -Aren't we a little overdressed?

l like a girl in a bikini. No concealed weapons.

Miss Goodnight, please. Mr. Bond.

Now let's see what Nick Nack has for us.

Ah, mushrooms.

The fried mushroom looks terribly interesting.

Yes, l've noticed that. l'll get around to it later.

Having fun in the sun, Goodnight?

Yes.

l could stay here forever.

Excellent.

Slightly reminiscent of a '34 Mouton.

Then l must add it to my cellar.

You live well, Scaramanga.

At a million dollars a contract, l can afford to, Mr. Bond.

You work for peanuts: A hearty ''well done'' from Her Majesty...

...and a pittance of a pension.

Apart from that, we are the same.

To us, Mr. Bond. We are the best.

There's a useful four-letter word. And you're full of it.

When l kill, it's on the specific orders of my government...

...and those l kill are themselves killers.

Come, come, Mr. Bond. You disappoint me.

You get as much fulfillment out of killing as l do, admit it.

l admit killing you would be a pleasure.

You should've done that when you first saw me.

But the English don't consider it sporting to kill in cold blood.

Don't count on that.

l could've shot you when you landed. That would've been ridiculously easy.

You see, Mr. Bond, like every great artist...

...l want to create an indisputable masterpiece once in my lifetime.

The death of 00 7, mano a mano...

...face to face...

...will be mine.

You mean, stuffed and displayed over your rocky mantelpiece?

That's an amusing idea, but l 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?

l only need one.

Sounds a bit old-fashioned, doesn't it?

l mean, pistols at dawn, that sort of thing.

lndeed it is, Mr. Bond.

But it still remains the only true test for gentlemen.

l doubt if you qualify on that score.

However, l accept.

As soon as l finish this delicious lunch Nick Nack has prepared for us.

Messieurs, l will remind you this is un duel � la mort.

Only one of you can leave the field of honor.

lf a coup de gr�ce is necessary...

...as your referee, l will administer it myself.

I do not expect wounds, only a clean kill.

On my command...

...each contestant will take 20 paces.

Are you ready, Monsieur Scaramanga?

-Ready. -Are you ready, Monsieur Bond?

-Ready. -l will now begin the count.

One, two...

...three, four, five...

...six...

...seven, eight, nine...

...1 0...

...1 1 , 1 2...

... 1 3, 1 4...

...1 5, 1 6...

... 1 7, 1 8...

...1 9, 20!

lf you kill him...

...all this be mine.

This way, Monsieur Bond.

Monsieur, good shooting.

l've never killed a midget before.

But there can always be a first time.

Oh, monsieur.

You only have three bullets left.

I fooled you.

-Goodnight. -James!

-James. -Steady, Goodnight.

Where is he?

Flat on his coup de gr�ce.

Let's get out of this fun palace and find that solex.

Wait here. l'll take care of the maintenance man.

l already did. l laid him out cold.

-You did? -Yes.

There's more to you than meets the eye, Goodnight.

l hate to ask stupid questions, but where exactly did you knock him cold?

He landed in that one.

Don't you believe in signs? We've got about five minutes...

...before his body temperature raises that helium well above zero.

Then this whole damn place will go sky high.

l'm sorry. l didn't know.

Kill the beam!

-Hit the master override switch! -The what?

-Goodnight? -Yes, James.

Now, listen carefully. There's a console up there.

There must be a scanner interlock button on it. Push it.

Goodnight, are you still there?

lt'll be on the auxiliary feedback circuit.

''Computer interlock.'' ls that it?

Just push every damn button, will you?

-Good girl, Goodnight, you've done it. -Oh, l have.

Get the hell out of there. l've got it!

-l hope you can swim, Goodnight. -This way.

His junk is moored around the corner.

But, darling, who's at the wheel?

-George. -George?

Automatic pilot.

We should make Hong Kong in about...

...eight hours.

Give or take a little.

l always wanted to take a slow boat from China.

l'll kill you.

l'll kill you.

Why, you--

Get in there, you little fink.

l can't breathe!

You'll be sorry!

l may be small, but l never forget!

l'll kill you if you don't let me out of here!

Let me out! You big bully!

Shut up.

-What did you do with him? -What do you think?

Oh, James, you didn't!

Yes, l damn well did.

You got all the glass out of the bed, l trust.

We don't want anything else to disturb our peace, do we?

Now...

...where were we?

Oh, James.

What's the matter?

Something came up.

Hello?

Ah, there you are, Bond.

Well done. Congratulations.

Thank you, sir.

Is Miss Goodnight with you? I'd like a word with her.

Hold on, sir.

Bond? Bond, are you there?

Goodnight?

She's just coming, sir.

Goodnight?

Goodnight?

-Goodnight?! -Good night, sir.