Help, Cyril, the Russians are here!

Are you there Cyril? Look! I took a photograph of his boat, The Golly Bodger. It's that burly Russian guy - the one who throws Smirnoff bottles. He's anchored his rowing boat off the island and he's come ashore. The island is on a code red alert. We've posted Daft Uisdean at the jetty to round up all the tourists; the Venetian blinds are down at the Wool Shop: the still has been dismantled and hidden in the nissan huts; and Willie's dog, Tripod, is hot on the trail to track the scent of Vodka. Gossip has it that he's come for you, Cyril. Rev. Hellman Brimstone said he saw him carrying a package with a label reading, "From Russia with Love." In his other hand he held a golden gun. This is for your eyes only, Cyril. I think he's got a view to kill. Run like the Living Daylights and remember - Tomorrow Never Dies, you can Dye your hair Another Day! Run!