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'Licenssse To Kill' no text - art by Asha, story by Ame
Art by 
AshasCadence - a textless version of this poster: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/32287259/
~
Another entry for the Summer of Sond! :D
Today, July 14th, is the 31st anniversary of the nationwide release of 'Licence to Kill', in the UK and North America, which came out on this day in 1989.
A year ago, I posted the version with text: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/32287259/
~
This time around, I also have a scene to accompany it.
Enjoy!
~~~
Deleted Scene from 'Licenssse To Kill' - transcribed by Amethystine
-
A cheap, anonymous hotel room, somewhere in the Florida Keys.
The television is on, and an American newscast drones on, behind a serpentine figure. The lengthy male wears a white dress shirt with a black shoulder holster overtop. A thick black strip of fabric around his middle serves to anchor the holster and provide something for the shirt to tuck into. The snake has his sleeves rolled up and his top three buttons undone. He has been diligently working for at least an hour.
Ames Sond snaps shut the second large suitcase upon the bed. The two densely-packed cases are sunken into the bedclothes, and surrounded by thick, discarded blue plastic.
The plastic had held money, waterproofed for the drug exchange on the open ocean that the python had crashed. Sond had destroyed the dozens of bricks cocaine with his knife, letting the powder billow and dissolve into a white cloud in the sea.
Idly, Sond muses about whether any aquatic life could have gotten high, had they passed through the area, soon after. The ample amount of gunfire, though, had probably scared them all away.
The funds had been millions of dollars in stacks of hundred-dollar bills, each stack worth $10,000. Therefore, the drugs had been worth millions, given it was meant to be an equal exchange.
With the narcotics diffused into the ocean and the money in Sond's hands - in his suitcases, to be precise - that drunkard of an otter named Krest would have a lot of explaining to do, to his boss.
"Isthmus City is a-glitter tonight as Franz Sanchez arrives at a party that some say is to celebrate his recent escape from custody in the US."
Sond's snout rises upon his long neck, his eyes going to the TV.
'Speak, or even just think of the devil, and he shall appear,' muses Ames, moving to watch the live broadcast. The smirking iguana coming on screen and walking nearer to the camera was indeed the boss, the ringleader to the otter and so many others. The drugs and the money Sond had seen today are nothing but a drop in the ocean in this man's operations. The naga glares at the screen as he slithers himself onto the couch, picking back up the drink he had neglected during his efforts to repack the money.
The doe reporter manages to snag the tall lizard's attention as he is proceeding past her and her cameraman, beginning to walk with him through the crowd of party attendees outside the Isthmus City casino. "Senor Sanchez, you were recently described in a leading American newspaper as a 'drug lord' involved in narcotics trafficking. What do you have to say to say about these comments?"
For his part, the iguana, in crisp white dinner jacket and palest green formal shirt just smiles that hatefully smug, self-satisfied way, and chuckles at the veiled accusation until the deer was done and she pressed her microphone to his scaled, scarred snout.
Ames prepares a cigarette, unblinking eyes burning with intense focus on the iguana. The serpent seethes, craving a distraction in the form of nicotine.
On the screen, Sanchez speaks. His deep voice emanates from the speakers, making Ames' lip curl involuntarily. "First of all, the United States should not blame me for its drug problems."
As Sanchez speaks, Sond picks up a silver-plated lighter from the table in front of him. The silver is engraved with the words: 'Ames, Love always, Della and Felix.' Sond had been the best man, and the lighter had been a present from the groom and the bride.
"Yo soy un hombre de negocios - I am just a business man, who runs a casino," Sanchez is saying, although Sond hardly hears him.
Within 12 hours, the marriage had arrived at the eventuality of 'death do us part' thanks to the lizard being interviewed.
That was yesterday.
"I love the Americans, I think they're a great people, and.. I welcome you all here."
Listening to the facade Franz projected, the naga's heart beats faster, the cigarette between his scaly lips slowly being crushed as his fist closes tightly around the flame-making gift. Ames flicks it on, and as if mirroring his burning desire for justice, the fire it generates leaps out, inches high.
Sond adjusts the amount of fuel, and the flame lessens - but not what he feels inside.
The iguana finishes his cocky little speech by saying, "Besides, we have better odds here than in the US: only one zero on the roulette wheel."
In the hotel, the naga discards the cigarette, finding no peace with it. He stuffs the lighter away in a pocket and picks up a flask, to add to his dwindling drink.
Nothing but droplets. Of course, that was to be expected, given the limited space in the large metal flash, with brown leather encasing the bottom half.
On the TV, Sanchez excuses himself as a grand motorcade pulls up in front of the casino, amid a cheering crowd. The doe reports: "President Hector Lopez arriving with a military escort. The people are chanting 'Hector Hector!' and waving flags." As the cervine woman described the surroundings, the camera showed el Presidente, a rhino beetle, shaking hands with Sanchez, the 'humble businessman.'
Half-watching, Sond pulls the metallic bottom of the flask out, revealing a hidden compartment. He tips it down, and his trusty Walther PPK slides into his palm.
The weight is reassuring.
Despite the iguana's friendship with the president of Isthmus - despite his vast resources - despite the fact that Sond suspected the other reptile was the true power that ran the country, its police and its military... Ames Sond, not 00S, vows to destroy the iguana and all that he has.
It's not a mission from his government.
His licence to kill had been revoked by M, just this morning.
But to do what he knows has to be done, it's beyond such petty regulations or laws of mortal men.
The naga stands up and pulls back the slide on his Walther, checking the motion is smooth, chambering a round.
Killing Sanchez will be righteous vengeance, nothing more, nothing less.
~
Amethystine/Ames Sond 00S and related IP © to his owner.
James Bond 007 and related IP © to Ian Fleming & Albert R Broccoli's DanJaq LLC & EON Productions
.
AshasCadence - a textless version of this poster: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/32287259/~
Another entry for the Summer of Sond! :D
Today, July 14th, is the 31st anniversary of the nationwide release of 'Licence to Kill', in the UK and North America, which came out on this day in 1989.
A year ago, I posted the version with text: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/32287259/
~
This time around, I also have a scene to accompany it.
Enjoy!
~~~
Deleted Scene from 'Licenssse To Kill' - transcribed by Amethystine
-
A cheap, anonymous hotel room, somewhere in the Florida Keys.
The television is on, and an American newscast drones on, behind a serpentine figure. The lengthy male wears a white dress shirt with a black shoulder holster overtop. A thick black strip of fabric around his middle serves to anchor the holster and provide something for the shirt to tuck into. The snake has his sleeves rolled up and his top three buttons undone. He has been diligently working for at least an hour.
Ames Sond snaps shut the second large suitcase upon the bed. The two densely-packed cases are sunken into the bedclothes, and surrounded by thick, discarded blue plastic.
The plastic had held money, waterproofed for the drug exchange on the open ocean that the python had crashed. Sond had destroyed the dozens of bricks cocaine with his knife, letting the powder billow and dissolve into a white cloud in the sea.
Idly, Sond muses about whether any aquatic life could have gotten high, had they passed through the area, soon after. The ample amount of gunfire, though, had probably scared them all away.
The funds had been millions of dollars in stacks of hundred-dollar bills, each stack worth $10,000. Therefore, the drugs had been worth millions, given it was meant to be an equal exchange.
With the narcotics diffused into the ocean and the money in Sond's hands - in his suitcases, to be precise - that drunkard of an otter named Krest would have a lot of explaining to do, to his boss.
"Isthmus City is a-glitter tonight as Franz Sanchez arrives at a party that some say is to celebrate his recent escape from custody in the US."
Sond's snout rises upon his long neck, his eyes going to the TV.
'Speak, or even just think of the devil, and he shall appear,' muses Ames, moving to watch the live broadcast. The smirking iguana coming on screen and walking nearer to the camera was indeed the boss, the ringleader to the otter and so many others. The drugs and the money Sond had seen today are nothing but a drop in the ocean in this man's operations. The naga glares at the screen as he slithers himself onto the couch, picking back up the drink he had neglected during his efforts to repack the money.
The doe reporter manages to snag the tall lizard's attention as he is proceeding past her and her cameraman, beginning to walk with him through the crowd of party attendees outside the Isthmus City casino. "Senor Sanchez, you were recently described in a leading American newspaper as a 'drug lord' involved in narcotics trafficking. What do you have to say to say about these comments?"
For his part, the iguana, in crisp white dinner jacket and palest green formal shirt just smiles that hatefully smug, self-satisfied way, and chuckles at the veiled accusation until the deer was done and she pressed her microphone to his scaled, scarred snout.
Ames prepares a cigarette, unblinking eyes burning with intense focus on the iguana. The serpent seethes, craving a distraction in the form of nicotine.
On the screen, Sanchez speaks. His deep voice emanates from the speakers, making Ames' lip curl involuntarily. "First of all, the United States should not blame me for its drug problems."
As Sanchez speaks, Sond picks up a silver-plated lighter from the table in front of him. The silver is engraved with the words: 'Ames, Love always, Della and Felix.' Sond had been the best man, and the lighter had been a present from the groom and the bride.
"Yo soy un hombre de negocios - I am just a business man, who runs a casino," Sanchez is saying, although Sond hardly hears him.
Within 12 hours, the marriage had arrived at the eventuality of 'death do us part' thanks to the lizard being interviewed.
That was yesterday.
"I love the Americans, I think they're a great people, and.. I welcome you all here."
Listening to the facade Franz projected, the naga's heart beats faster, the cigarette between his scaly lips slowly being crushed as his fist closes tightly around the flame-making gift. Ames flicks it on, and as if mirroring his burning desire for justice, the fire it generates leaps out, inches high.
Sond adjusts the amount of fuel, and the flame lessens - but not what he feels inside.
The iguana finishes his cocky little speech by saying, "Besides, we have better odds here than in the US: only one zero on the roulette wheel."
In the hotel, the naga discards the cigarette, finding no peace with it. He stuffs the lighter away in a pocket and picks up a flask, to add to his dwindling drink.
Nothing but droplets. Of course, that was to be expected, given the limited space in the large metal flash, with brown leather encasing the bottom half.
On the TV, Sanchez excuses himself as a grand motorcade pulls up in front of the casino, amid a cheering crowd. The doe reports: "President Hector Lopez arriving with a military escort. The people are chanting 'Hector Hector!' and waving flags." As the cervine woman described the surroundings, the camera showed el Presidente, a rhino beetle, shaking hands with Sanchez, the 'humble businessman.'
Half-watching, Sond pulls the metallic bottom of the flask out, revealing a hidden compartment. He tips it down, and his trusty Walther PPK slides into his palm.
The weight is reassuring.
Despite the iguana's friendship with the president of Isthmus - despite his vast resources - despite the fact that Sond suspected the other reptile was the true power that ran the country, its police and its military... Ames Sond, not 00S, vows to destroy the iguana and all that he has.
It's not a mission from his government.
His licence to kill had been revoked by M, just this morning.
But to do what he knows has to be done, it's beyond such petty regulations or laws of mortal men.
The naga stands up and pulls back the slide on his Walther, checking the motion is smooth, chambering a round.
Killing Sanchez will be righteous vengeance, nothing more, nothing less.
~
Amethystine/Ames Sond 00S and related IP © to his owner.
James Bond 007 and related IP © to Ian Fleming & Albert R Broccoli's DanJaq LLC & EON Productions
.
Category Artwork (Digital) / General Furry Art
Species Snake / Serpent
Size 842 x 1280px
File Size 1.25 MB
Listed in Folders
The textless image is classy and intense, and that snake scute spiral can be more easily spied.
There a word maybe missing in a section, not sure what it it might if not describing el Presidente's species or demeanour: ' the camera showed el Presidente, a [?], shaking hands with Sanchez, the 'humble businessman.' '
There a word maybe missing in a section, not sure what it it might if not describing el Presidente's species or demeanour: ' the camera showed el Presidente, a [?], shaking hands with Sanchez, the 'humble businessman.' '
Thanks for the heads-up on that missing word! It was his species, he's a rhino beetle. Just like his dad. Or rather: The actor who played the small role of 'el presidente' in LTK is the son of the man who was 'Kerim Bey', in From Russia With Love. [This is a real bit of Bond trivia, I mean]
So, since I already picked out a rhino beetle to be Kerim Bey, so I might as well make his son one too.
Thanks for the fave on this piece, too!
So, since I already picked out a rhino beetle to be Kerim Bey, so I might as well make his son one too.
Thanks for the fave on this piece, too!
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