Except the ones we've made
Except the ones we've made
New here? I'm Roha — want a quick tour?
So, Meg.
A bit disjointed, a bit silly, and just generally…
The plot:
Or rather, the beginning. Spell Bond, a prisoner, or rather, a former prisoner, is hiding from the police and other authorities (FBI, Delta Force, etc.). After escaping from the forest at night, he finds himself on a highway. A farmer driving by notices Bond, stops, and says:
- How did you end up here, stranger?
- Well, I was cutting down trees, and I got lost.
- Come on, get in my car! It's raining outside.
- Thank you very much.
- What's your name, good sir? By the way, here, have a cookie.
- I… *pauses* James. James Bond. No, thank you, I don't want a cookie.
- Bond?
- James Bond.
- Hahaha, well, my name is Vis Trit.
- Nice to meet you.
*Then followed a stupid conversation about all sorts of nonsense, mostly about tea and chat.*