Very few people know (except Rochelle, of course) that six hours before Ian Fleming finished the first draft of Casino Royale (released in 1953), a little known Ozark novelist, Hershel “Jim Bob” Frugalstein, submitted an original spy-thriller manuscript to New York publisher Shyster & Ponzi. Editors and agents agreed the book was destined for the best seller list, and quite probably book of the year.
Unfortunately, negotiations broke down over movie rights to the story. Jim Bob insisted on playing the lead role and personally hand-picking the female cast members. The Publisher and Hollywood both rejected the notion, citing the fact that Frugalstein’s only experience as an actor was a non-speaking role as “Jim” in a third grade production of Huckleberry Finn.
Today’s Friday Fiction installment is a 100 synopsis of the original novel. Remember, this is a work of fiction and any character resemblance to modern-day Fictioneers is purely a figment of your imagination.
This week’s photo is courtesy of our bus driver, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. To read more stories, visit her blog, http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ and click on the little blue InLinz critter to find links to other less ridiculous offerings.
By Hershel “Jim Bob” Frugalstein
Israeli intelligence discovers B.O.W.D.* mastermind, Randal Gnomes, plot to destroy the world’s supply of candle wax, darkening menorahs and crushing Jewish morale during the Festival of Lights.
The Prime Minister dispatches the country’s top spy, Percy (formerly cute) Cube—code name 005, to intercept Gnomes and castrate his evil plan.
Percy is captured breaking into Gnomes lair by the cunning and voluptuous Rowena Vermouth. Vermouth finds her emotions both shaken and stirred by her animal attraction to Percy.
As the countdown to Hanukkah begins, Gnomes dangles Percy above a cauldron of hot wax. Rowena must decide which wick to dip.
*(Bent on World Destruction)
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This is the blog of a woman who is seriously on the edge and I mean right ON the edge…no, not there… just a little bit further… further than that…no, further still…just a tiny bit more… just move slightly to the right a little…no, that’s too much…just move a tad to the left…that’s right, just there…now you’ve moved too far to the left… Damn, what part of the ‘on the edge’ do you not understand? Oh, and her matricidal boy genius, come devil spawn.
Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.
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