Agent 010: Fire Arm/Gent

Intelligence man linking Belgium to New England for sanity-diamonds must leap over (proverbial) hurdles of Earth's realm of a (dark) jewel.

James Bond media fanfiction. Happy-Xmas '25 week, all 

DISCLAIMER: This work of fanfiction offers no commercial/explicit ties to the James Bond franchise/productions and all images/references used herein comprise a purely 'personal' expression for social arts (for 'open' views/translations).

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Q: Ready for this Brussels-Boston bridge of smuggled treasures of bad insurance?
AGENT-010: I represent good Euro-American handy-links work for NFL-TV ads, sir.

Q: You're our best, and you're to infiltrate New England and Belgium for gems, ok.

AGENT-010: What's this 'fiction' I hear of a siren of bad Baron Ion ('Firestar'), sir?

Q: Mr. Amlan Satan ('010'), Slovak-Algerian Catholic-American trained operative.

AGENT-010: That's my name, Q, and you've trained me, Mr. Satan, for Facebook!

Q: Find Ion's diamonds and intercept Firestar's bad-helmet, and avoid romance.

AGENT-010: My bread/fruit be sullied for Halloween consumerism (Selfie-like)?

Q: Right-o (Facebook-like)...good luck, Satan (for doubt).

Agent 010 (Amlan Satan), a sly and sharp Slovak-Algerian Catholic-American 2nd-generation immigrant educated and trained for a cross-continent work of darkness/Hell concerning conflict-zone gems of rogue finance tied to the ruthless fat-investor of NFL 'things' for TV (Baron Ion), knew he'd have to intercept the evil siren of the bad-baron ('Firestar'), but didn't think her little toy metal tiny gun-lighter was filled with liquid-nitrogen...when he started having those special-intelligence sideshow 'extra credit' feelings for her person, despite her own ice-sideshow of assassin-work for securing her baron's gem-transport just in-time for football-ads (Facebook-like).

FIRESTAR: You like this boat, on this Euro-water, for some break-time from duty?

SATAN: You don't know if I'm Agent-010, just because Ion's warned you of Selfie.

FIRESTAR: True, but you've been smoking my cloves using my gun-lighter happily.

SATAN: What's your story, Firestar-woman...just a circus-lady trapped in Hell?

FIRESTAR: Baron Ion provides me all a woman needs for a Euro-sports journal.

SATAN: Just a journalist, and Baron Ion's just a capitalist...sounds veiled Russian.

FIRESTAR: Hey, Russia's a co-investor of the Space-Station, Amlan (right?).

SATAN: Let's see if our boat-ride love-show ('sideshow') yields Facebook-jar, lady.

FIRESTAR: Pass me my lighter (now!) please...Selfie-like.

BANK OWNER: Thanx for this handy-case, Mr. Satan.

SATAN: Have you heard from intelligence, of the arrival of our agent-pal, friend?

BANK OWNER: Agent-010...he's some mystery-man, no...we don't know, right?

SATAN: Well, when 010 gets here, you may explain all was filed/done completely!

BANK OWNER: What of Baron Ion's lady who'd arrive here too, for diamond-store?

SATAN: She's busy, you know...working on an NFL-9/11 superstition 'thing' for God.

BANK OWNER: Sure...Mr. Satan (thanx)...farewell (Godspeed, sir).

SATAN: Of course (Facebook-like).

Amlan Satan, special intelligence-man of football and gems and insurance 'things' of a new social network Earth of nations-exchange for far-reaching diplomacy demands for sanity-meds, sat down (eventually) to a nice world-exchanges culture-rich soft/zesty (Indian) luchi-bread diner-plate and wondered why he had to bloody-kill the lovely siren, Firestar (real-name: unknown) in Selfie-defense in a line/language work simply fit for those 'rascals' of capitalism's worst needed fencing for bread/fruit (hmmm). However, the luchi did make Satan feel like a hero...for the NFL world-series (ha).

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)