Cheesy Little Artsy Spy Buddy Movie
As Pettigrew, the English butler,
I'd served the Edwards family
faithfully for two decades.
They saw me for what I was:
the perfect English servant
in classic stereotypical mold.
I found young Bart Edwards drunk
and stoned out of his skull
in the closet, once again,
sprawled in his own vomit.
"Ah there you are Pettigrew,"
he slurred as I cleaned him up.
Unfortunately, I was pressed
for time and had to take him
with me on my latest assignment
to clandestinely enter Russia
through frozen Lake Ladoga;
we arrived in Moscow in time
to rendezvous with Natasha
just as she was to dance
the Black Swan at the Bolshoi;
she gave me the microchip
from inside her black bra:
I put it in my black eyepatch
--the plans to the secret Arctic
facility, which Bart and I reached
by scaling the Slemskya glacier:
I, Lefty Pettigrew, 006, and Black Bart
blasted the cave with Semtex,
guided by landsat technology.
So we foiled the Ruskies' infernal
plot to dominate the world. Then
we enjoyed a night of debauchery
with Natasha and the White Swan,
Martina, smooches goodbye and we
crippled the North Koreans and Iranians.
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Unfortunately, we shot up the set
so badly the movie went way over
budget and we landed home penniless.
Once again, I found young
Bart Edwards drunk and stoned
out of his skull in the closet,
sprawled in his own vomit.
"Ah there you are Pettigrew,"
he slurred as I cleaned him up.
Christopher T. George
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