This is my guess of how Ian Fleming would have penned Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (including his penchant for typecasting people, which I don't condone)
Chapter 1–The Spreading Stain
The seven figures sat immobile in the bleak twilight of the bare room. All was silent, yet the room buzzed with tension. The leader of the group sat at one end of a long meeting table, his hands clasped and his head bent in concentration. The other six faces stared blankly around the room. It was obvious to them that their leader was angry, and no one wanted to catch his eye for fear of becoming the object of his temper. At length, he unclasped his hands and looked up.
He spoke softly and slowly, which surprised the group. “Gentlemen, we have a problem.”
The leader, like the other six men in the group, was a dwarf. Because of their resentment for a world taller than themselves, all short people are criminals deep inside. With these seven, the disease of crime had spread from their souls to infect their entire bodies. They had formed themselves into an organization of and for crime–the Brotherhood of Arson, Murder, Burglary and Intimidation–BAMBI.
No real names were used in BAMBI, but rather pseudonyms. The leader of the group was Doctor George Wainwright–“Doc”. He was very fat, with a severe face dominated by a sharp nose. His eyes were a sickly yellow-brown and were totally without lashes. His hands were large and furrowed. He wore a double-breasted suit which only tended to accent his shortness and stoutness.
Doc’s life of crime had begun at the young age of seventeen. At first he had sold drugs to his friends in the back streets of London. Later, he graduated to smuggling raw opium in from Tangier. By the age of thirty, he was the controlling force for virtually all drug traffic in England. But then his soul grew restless. Tiring of business, he longed once more or the thrill of crime or crime’s sake. One Sunday morning he turned in all his associates and sailed off in search of adventure.
To Doc’s left sat Antonio Freza. Freza was a dark, swarthy man with restless eyes. He had a dirty, unshaven look that made everyone who came into contact with him appropriately suspicious. Freza’s uncle was the don of a powerful syndicate in Palermo, and he was very close to young Antonio. So close that when Don Verocci Freza found out that his favorite nephew had been informing to the Policia, he cut off his tongue, instead of his head. Freza could now only talk in a horrible baby-like babble which had earned him the name of “Dopey”.
The other five figures–Sneezy, Happy, Grumpy, Bashful and Sleepy–were all equally obscene characters with equally disgusting backgrounds.
Doc continued talking. “Yes, gentlemen, we have a serious problem. It concerns the affair with Lady Peters.”
Dopey froze at the mention of the name.
“Grumpy,” Doc ordered. “Stand up!”
All eyes but Doc’s turned toward Grumpy as he got nervously to his feet.
Doc kept his eye on Dopey while he spoke. “That woodcutter that was hired to kidnap Snow White.”
It was a statement, but Grumpy answered it anyway. “Yes.”
“He failed.” That was all that Doc needed to say. To add that failure was not tolerated was unnecessary.
Grumpy stuttered nervously. “Th-that . . . That was . . .”
“Precisely.” Doc’s hand flashed below the table and withdrew the gold-plated Mauser Hsc 32 caliber automatic. Dopey tried to dodge backward, but the two steaming lead slugs caught him in the side of the neck and threw him sideways. He fell with a crash to a small end table and then rolled, dead, to the floor.
Grumpy sat down again in his red velvet-covered armchair. He shifted his feet slightly to avoid the spreading crimson stain on the polished oak floor. None of the five faces twitched; none of the ten eyes blinked. The meeting continued.
Chapter 2–Assignment from K
Prince Charming motored quickly out of the palace grounds and performed a skillful racing change as he tore around the sharp curve onto Forest Road. He was glad to be out in the open air again; alone with his thoughts and with the car he loved–loved more than he could ever love any woman. It was a beautiful machine–one of the last Jaguar D-types. He had had the garage modify the running gear, and the engine was fitted with an Amherst-Villiers supercharger. It was the smartest car in the Kingdom, and Charming knew it.
K had been in a strange mood that morning. When Charming had gone into his office, K had not even bothered turning around, but rather had continued to stare out through his large curtained window at the autumn day.
“Sit down, Prince. There’s some nasty business cooking in the Magic Woods.”
“Some new group’s popped up. Call themselves BAMBI–The Brotherhood of Arson, Murder, Burglary and Intimidation. They’ve been harassing a very influential lady by the name of Peters. We believe they have kidnapped her step-daughter, Snow White.”
“But sir,” Charming broke in. “Magic isn’t really or territory. Why not let the boys in Magic Kingdom Service handle it?”
K swiveled his chair and stared directly at Charming. “Because the bloody fools in MKS haven’t been able to handle it, damn it!”
Charming was taken aback. He let his gaze drop to the floor. Why was K so angry? What bee did he have in his bonnet this time? When Charming looked up, K was once again staring out the window.
“The land that Lady Peters owns is part of a thin strip between the Magic Kingdom and Redland to the east. It has been in the Peters’ family for generations. We believe that Redland is paying BAMBI to force her from her land. If that happens, the freedom of the Kingdom will be in jeopardy. We can’t have BAMBI running free in the woods.”
K paused and cleared his throat. “Besides,” he added self-consciously, “Lady Peters is a close personal friend of mine. Snow White is the closest thing I have to a daughter.”
So that was it–why K was so touchy. He was afraid that perhaps he was not being objective–that he was ordering one of his agents to take on an assignment for personal reasons. Well, if the safety of the Kingdom was at stake, then this certainly was official business–despite any personal interest.
“Of course, sir. I’ll take care of it straight away.”
Chapter 3–The Lady in the Mirror
Charming lifted the large brass door-knocker and let it fall with a resounding boom. A few seconds later, the door opened and a servant motioned for Charming to enter. He was led to a large drawing room and told to please wait. The room was overstuffed with oddities from all over the globe, including Chinese sculptures, woodcarvings from West Africa, and even a set of gaucho bolas from the Pampas.
The vanity of the old lady was obvious from the large mirror that hung at the far end of the room. Charming guessed that she entertained herself prancing back and forth in front of it. He could even picture her asking the mirror how beautiful she was. Oh, but now he was being silly, and he had a very serious job to do.
A voice interrupted his thoughts. “I am Lady Peters. So you must be Prince Charming.”
Charming turned to see a stunning lady of forty-five–much younger than he had expected.
“Yes, that’s right. K has briefed me with what he knows, so why don’t you tell me what you know.”
Chapter 4–Death in the Afternoon
An hour later, Charming once again sat in his Jaguar. He thought over what he had learned. Snow White had been kidnapped the previous evening. The servant had admitted a poor dwarf with a kind face who turned out also to have a big gun. From her contacts in the Woods, Lady Peters had learned of a group of dwarfs who lived in a small cabin just east of the South Woods Road. They worked an old silver mine, but, apart from their seemingly unnecessary fetish for privacy, appeared quite normal and harmless.
Charming guessed otherwise. A group such as BAMBI would need a legitimate cover. A mine would provide not only that cover but also a good base for operations. Charming guessed that BAMBI would probably not risk taking Snow White to their base, and that meant they would be holding her in the cabin. According to Lady Peters’ sources, the dwarfs left the cabin at two each day to walk the short distance to the mine. Till then, Snow White would be too well guarded.
Charming glanced at his Rolex Oyster Perpetual watch. Twelve o’clock. Plenty of time for lunch. He pulled over at one of his favorite restaurants along the West Wonderland Motorway and parked on its gravel lot in the shade of a giant elm. It was deliciously warm inside, and as Carlos, the headwaiter, walked over to say hello, Charming knew he was going to have a great meal–today, a prime steak, grilled to perfection, with asparagus and Bernaise sauce, all washed down with a half-carafe of Mouton Rothschild 1929. And so, his belly full and his blood warmed, he felt quite contented as he left the restaurant lot–his car kicking up a spray of gravel.
At two-ten, Charming sat in a clump of bushes overlooking Doc’s cabin. He had just watched the seven dwarfs march out of the back door and make their way into the woods. In a display of discipline typical of such crime cells, all the men chanted in cadence to their marching. Charming found himself repeating the chant too–HI HOUGH. HI-HOUGH . . .
Charming slid down the hillside, carefully slowing his descent by grabbing onto roots and small bushes. He made his way to the cabin in a crouched run. His Gerber tempered steel blade slipped the latch on the back door, and he began a systematic search of the small building.
He first searched the basement, but it proved to be deserted. He had looked through two rooms on the first floor, and was about to look in a third, when he froze. From inside the next room came the creak of a bedspring.
Was it Snow White? Or was it a member of BAMBI left behind to guard? Charming decided to investigate with caution
He carefully tried the door handle, but it was locked. Removing from its holster the heavy chunk of iron that was his Browning Highpower 9mm automatic, he clutched it in his right hand and thumbed off the safety. He softly paced off two large steps back from the door, turned, and hurled himself at it, hitting it at waist-level with his left shoulder.
The door snapped from its hinges, held, and then flew back. Charming was at once on his feet, poised like a cat. The blond woman on the bed started to scream through her gag. The large man dove for his gun, but Charming caught him in mid-air with two quickly paced shots. And then all was quiet save for the soft weeping of Snow White.
Charming holstered his Browning and cut Snow White free. He stood back, rubbing his shoulder, and looked at this most beautiful girl. She had hair of honey, eyes of the palest blue, and skin of white. Her mouth was wide and sensuous. Her pert breasts showed proudly beneath her now dirty and torn white dress. She looked up at Charming, frightened–still not knowing if he were friend or foe.
He sat down next to her and put his arm around her. “It’s alright. You’re safe now. By the way, my name’s Charming. Prince Charming.”
She still looked frightened, so he kissed her, first on the forehead, and then hard on the lips. She responded passionately. His hand covered her right breast, and he felt it stiffen with anticipation. He pushed himself back.
“We have to get away from here. Certainly they heard the shooting and will send someone to investigate.”
He led her from the cabin, up the hill and to his car. In a few moments they were motoring fast through the Magic Woods.
Snow White was beginning to calm down. “You saved my life. How can I ever thank you?”
Charming glanced at the side of the road and saw a large billboard. “Happy Court Motel–only minutes away,” it read.
“Give me a few minutes, and I’m sure something will pop up.”
Charming stomped his foot to the floor. The supercharger gave a decisive whine, and the car flew down the road like a bat out of hell.
Photography by Charles Jacobs
Copyright © 2019 Charles Jacobs - All Rights Reserved.
Powered by GoDaddy Website Builder