An Evening to Remember

Spectre is back to dazzle us once again for one enchanting evening of intrigue, espionage, and seduction...

Transcript: “I’ll be right back babe,” the man they called Tim Burns whispered agitatedly as he went to go see which idiot wouldn’t stop knocking on his door, especially when he was about to get into the most luscious blonde bombshell of his life.

She gave him an understanding smile, but inside beneath the exquisite mask and bodysuit, Spectre was almost more annoyed than his quarry. Go answer the door already! The interruption had been carefully orchestrated by Spectre as a distraction. Spectre watched carefully as Burns exited the room and turned down the hallway. As soon as it was safe, Spectre quickly sprung into action, mixing in a few milligrams of flunitrazepam into Burn’s drink of choice: a glass of finely aged Cabernet Sauvignon. Within seconds the powerful, odorless, tasteless drug had completely dissolved. Soon, he’d have his target and all the time in the world—or however long it usually two consenting adults to achieve sexual climax—to search for the Project Dawson files. So much for heavy security.

Time and time again, Spectre had proved that no man could ever resist an enchanting temptress, especially one who through careful research, had been tailored to be the perfect woman for him. Tonight, Spectre was Miss Giselle Daniels, a more mature but no less voluptuous woman whose knowledge of modern cinema and passion for smooth jazz could only be compared to Burns himself. Getting Burns to approach her at the bar had been a tricky and delicate ordeal, but getting him to take her home once he did was not. A little spice, a little intrigue, and copious amounts of flattery were all the tools a woman needed. Men loved to have their little egos stroked, among other things. Of course, looking like an angel from heaven hadn’t hurt either. Burns wouldn’t admit it, but he had nearly tried to put the wine cork in his phone and the bottle back in his pocket several times tonight.  

“Would you believe it? Room service got the wrong suite!” Burns complained loudly as he rejoined his lovely catch of the night, never suspecting that she was actually the predator. “Now where were we?”

“I believe you were telling me about the impact Scorcese, Scott, and Spielberg had on film in the 70’s, but first, a toast, to a wonderful evening, and the first man to genuinely intrigue me in a very long time,” Spectre was lying through his teeth, but Burns would never know. Giselle was a very convincing woman. Spectre downed his glass and watched as Burns did the same, starting the countdown began in Spectre’s head. In just a few minutes, Burns would be out cold. Such a shame Spectre thought, that Burns would have no recollection of the event. Giselle would’ve preferred to remain in his mind to give him wet dreams for years.