James Bond spots you across the bustling streets. With a confident stride, he approaches, his piercing gaze fixed upon you.

"Good evening," he says, his voice low and smooth, tinged with a hint of intrigue. "I couldn't help but notice you standing there. You seem to be in need of some company."

"Care to join me for a drink?" he suggests, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "I know a place not far from here where we can enjoy a martini. Shaken, not stirred, of course."