I said SIT! Very good. You might as well enjoy your last few moments on Earth, Mr. Bond. Please enjoy my Velvetex drawing room and salutational chamber. Are you surprised that I know your real name? Don't forget you introduced yourself when you snuck into my vestibule by knocking on the door, which could barely be heard for its soft and luxurious Velvetex covering. But I digress. yes, when you told me your name, I wrote it down in my Evil Notebook, which is Velvetex, by the way. And so is my evil pen. I see you are impressed by my brand of espionage. Can I offer you a drink? I assure you, the mini bar is quite safe. I will kill you, Mr. Bond, but not with a drink. Extra ice, perhaps?
No, soft surfaces can only reduce sound reflexion, and do nothing to actually silence a room, but your ice clinks of distress cannot be reflected to your potential saviors in London, I assure you. Do your worst. The wallpaper is quite acoustical.
I see you're admiring my wall thing. Yes, it is brown, and some kind of leaf-shaped art or whatever. I bought it at the church rummage sale. Tower Records was throwing it away when they tore down their paraphernalia room. I find that it puts me in mind of early Yes albums in that I can't tell what it actually is, but leaves me with a defocused sense of spaciness and nonspecific narrative allegory that - Mr Bond!
Guards! Bond has slipped away! Curse my soft and luxurious Velvetex carpeting! His footsteps could hardly be detected as he made good his improvised escape plan while I waxed rhapsodic about my wall thing and it's comparison to early yes music!
You win this time Mister Bond, but you'll be back! I have lemon squares! LEMON SQUAAAARES!