Fleming’s Finest Fictional Fellow Falls Foul of Fiendish Foes

Opening the office door, Bond stepped into the forbidding darkness. The room, though black as night, left him unfazed. Creeping forward, a cough caused him to falter.

“Good evening, Mr Bond. We’ve been expecting you.”

Lights flooded on, followed by a fusillade of small explosions.

Flinging himself to the floor, Bond found himself festooned with confetti, facing a fearsome foursome: Scaramanga, Le Chiffre, Goldfinger, and Blofeld.

“Surprise!” chorused the felons, firing further festive party poppers.

My entry in the November 2019 75 Word Story Challenge at SFFChronicles
Theme: Birthdays
Genre: Spy Thriller