Go ahead. Ask me anything. I promise I won't kill you afterward.
Ask the international spy
Go ahead. Ask me anything. I promise I won't kill you afterward.
Do you carry cyanide with you?
So now they are just dirt-covered English people in fur pelts with credit cards.
No. My immense hubris ensures that I will never be captured by the enemy.Originally posted by Zuul
Are you a cold war warrior or a new breed, information age spy?
Why can't I be both?
Last edited by fachverwirrt; 23 Sep 2010 at 02:07 PM.
Are you a master of disguise?
So now they are just dirt-covered English people in fur pelts with credit cards.
You saw the picture I posted in chate yesterday: what do you think?
I think you are.
So now they are just dirt-covered English people in fur pelts with credit cards.
Do you have any spy accouterments hidden in your shoe, like a little pistol or a walkie-talkie?
Shoelaces are surprisingly deadly. My walkie-talkie is in my cell phone.
No shoe phone, well clearly not that good of a spy then. Any false finger guns?
Talking into your shoe is pretty conspicuous, don't you think?
I don't need a gun. I have my razor sharp wit, clever banter, and mad kung fu skills to get me out of any situation.
How do you like your martinis?
Well first, let's make one thing absolutely clear: there is no such thing as a vodka martini, and your martini should be neither shaken nor stirred. Martinis are made with chilled gin and just a swirl of vermouth (enough to coat the glass). The only question is what you garnish it with. I garnish my martini with a jalapeno.
(This is actually true, by the way.)
fach, I salute you for your fine martini taste.
So now they are just dirt-covered English people in fur pelts with credit cards.
Have they given you a number, and taken away your name?
Does having such a job increase the number of beautiful women that you get to seduce?
Hell, if I didn't do things just because they made me feel a bit ridiculous, I wouldn't have much of a social life. - Santo Rugger.
Why do you want to know?
I don't need to be a secret agent to seduce beautiful women. My natural charm is plenty, thank you.
I mean, um, I'm married. Yeah, that's the ticket.
Would you rather go up against James Bond or Jason Bourne?
Where did the lint in my belly button come from?
Pussycats. Both of the them.
Sorry, that's classified.
Which is harder to break into: the volcano lair or the undersea city?
In the land of the blind, the one-arm man is king.
I flooded the undersea city with lava when I blew up the volcano lair, so... both?
Do you have quotas on how many bad guys and gals you have to terminate from their positions each year?
To sleep, perchance to experience amygdalocortical activation and prefrontal deactivation.
I did, but I killed them all and now people are afraid to set up shop in the super-villain industry. That's why I had to retire from espionage and am now a lowly music teacher.
How long until the pineapple? <wink, wink>
OK, I know I promised not to, but I'm afraid I have to send out the team.
Don't try to run. You won't get away.
Do you ever flip out ninja style?
So now they are just dirt-covered English people in fur pelts with credit cards.
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