In the headquarters of the evil villain, a henchman runs up to the boss to report that somebody has tried to recruit the protagonist for one last job. The villain says, does it look like he succeeded? No, the henchman says. It looks like he’s staying on the island. But if you want, we can send a fleet of assassins in speedboats to kill his girlfriend and blow up his house. Just to be sure. The villain considers this. No, he decides, why would I expend valuable resources attracting the attention of a guy who has been able to smash evil conspiracies like mine on multiple occasions? If he manages to escape the net, that’ll just get him mad and lead him right to me. Let him grow fat and tan in the sun. He has nothing to do with me. The assassins are not sent. The private island is not blown up. Our protagonist does not become part of the story.

The old acquaintance from our protagonist’s agency days returns back to the office and says, oh, well, I tried. Let me see who else we have on the roster. Hmmm. This guy would do just fine. The new agent is briefed. The new agent is sent on the mission. The new agent is not a old protégé of our protagonist. He is not killed because the protagonist refused to get involved. He is not captured and does not require a rescue that only our protagonist can provide. He is perfectly capable himself and he pulls off the mission quite handily, with no real complications.

Our protagonist lies on his island reading the newspaper. He sees a story in the international pages about an explosion leveling an island off the coast of China. This looks like a horrible terrorist plot being foiled. He idly wonders whether this is what his old acquaintance in the agency wanted to recruit him for. It certainly bears all the indicators. A brief, very brief, expression of regret crosses his face. And then he says, who am I kidding? I did my bit for king and country, and I’m getting just old enough that if I said yes I might have gotten killed and not defused the ticking bomb in the nick of time. It’s probably for the best that somebody else took care of it. And besides, this one last job thing is always bullshit. Because they just use it to get you hooked again, and again, until you’re the grizzled old mentor who gets killed in the first five minutes. Just look at my friend Ethan Hunt, from the IMF. The Dude was happily married to the love of his life. He took that one last job and now she has to live under an assumed name, shadowed by bodyguards, for the rest of her life, while he grows older taking one more one last job after another. That’s bullshit. I don’t need that crap. I’m not indispensable. That’s what they have new trainees for. He grins and pours himself another drink.

Tags: James Bond, Mission: Impossible | Category Humor, Movies, Mystery, TV, Uncategorized