Hi there. This is a disclaimer. I sadly do not own any of the Boosh or the characters of Vince Noir or Howard Moon.

Enjoy the story!


"Hi there," a customer came into the Nabootique, causing Howard TJ – You Better Believe It – Moon to wake up from his early afternoon jazzy trance.

"Yes, what would you l-" he was cut off as he saw the most beautiful woman in the world looking at him over the counter. She had long blonde hair, lovely brown eyes and she wore a tight black cat suit. After a couple of minutes of staring at her open-mouthed, Howard started to finish his sentence. "-like? What would you like? We have a large selection of thing here on offer, like this pencil case with a picture of an elbow patch on the front or this rare Bongo Brothers vinyl…."

"No, I am looking for a handsome young Jazz Maverick-

Howard nearly ran at her screaming, "That's me! That's me!" Never before had a beautiful woman sauntered into the Nabootique and asked for him. Times were changing for Howard Moon. Jazz Maverick. Poet. Cyclist. The famous spanner of genres.

"-who goes by the name of Vince Noir?" the woman continued, slightly frowning as he drooled onto the table.

Howard's dreams fell to the floor, shattered. Moments later, a thought occurred to him. Vince had never liked the haunting works of Kenny G and his soprano pipe like he, Howard Moon did. This was an outrage that needed to be dealt with as soon as Vince woke up. But that could wait.

Howard drew himself up to his fullest height and was about to inform the woman that no one existed under that title. Vince Noir, Jazz Maverick? There was no such thing. However, Howard Moon, Jazz Maverick had more of a ring to it anyway.

Just as he was about to mention this to the woman, who had by now lost all interest in him and was looking at Stationary Village with a bemused look on her face, a Northern looking gentleman dressed in a Tweed Utility Suit 4001 carrying a polished saxophone came downstairs from their shared apartment.

"Who the hell are you?" Howard yelled "Where the hell is Vince? What have you done to him?" Howard raised a walking stick he always had by the counter in case of rapists, murderers and student loans people. He was about to beat the living daylights out of the man who was now looking at Howard with a kind of a freaked out expression.

"Jesus Howard! What the hell's wrong with you? Have you overdosed on those pills of yours again?" Vince began to laugh when Howard raised the stick and brought it down on his head. Everything went black.


So, please review if you like the story (so far)!