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.

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