Author's Note: Hello! Here I am with another fic for you :P Could be a few spelling mistakes, I wrote this at something ridiculous like three in the morning. ;P

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mighty Boosh.

Warnings: Language.

Just another Month

It only took the joint time of one minute for the entire class to take a long hard look at their supply teacher decide that he was going to be useless and then launch into a tirade of Absolute Mayhem™.

Rather alarmed by the amount of airborne stationary in the room, the supply teacher fruitlessly shouted something about 'choosing to learn', which was ridiculous, because telling people to choose to learn when they had already chosen not to was completely pointless.

Vince ducked his head as some unfortunate student's exercise book went sailing over his head and then winced as the teacher began to scratch his name onto the green board with a piece of chalk.

An eraser came from nowhere and sailed through the air like a rubber nightmare, colliding quite spectacularly with the back of Mr Wyse's head.

'Who threw that?' he shrilled, scrutinising several rows of shifty eyes.

At that moment, another pair of shifty eyes was added to the classroom as a pupil arrived late. Vince's bright eyes lit up a few shades brighter.

'Thought you weren't gonna come in' he mouthed to the latecomer.

Mr Wyse was a generally unfriendly man and if there was one thing he couldn't stand it was not being Top Dog. He might have been the students' bully target right then, but he knew how to rip that target off and pin it to someone else.

And here was this someone else, this latecomer, this awkward looking gangly student who stood with his head down and an armful of books with a pencil case resting precariously on top. His tiny brown eyes were filled with the reflection of his negative thoughts, and his shoulders were heavy with guilt.

Mr Wyse tapped the chalk onto the palm of his other hand, 'So, tell me, what's your name?'

The rangy teen stood awkwardly at the front of the class, suddenly the subject of a small, mocking laughing fit at the back of the class, waiting to be lectured.

'... Howard...' he muttered.

'Howard what? Am I supposed to mind read, boy?'

Howard felt the gaze of all twenty-one students on him, burning his ears and cheeks, 'Howard Moon, Sir...'

Wyse had heard him, 'What? Speak up!'

Howard looked over to his seat, longing to sit down, and he looked at the small skinny boy in the seat beside it, in a blazer that was too big for him.

Vince looked back into Howard's nervous little eyes and felt a stab of irritation in his gut. Howard looked like he really didn't need it today.

Tutting, Vince ran a hand through his golden hair and said in a loud, cockney accent that wouldn't have been out of place in Oliver, ''Is name's 'oward Moon!'

Mr Wyse turned his attention to Vince, peering at him from behind his spectacles, 'And who do you think you are?'

'Vince Noir,'

Howard moved to hurry to his seat.

'Er er er!' Mr Wyse held up a hand, 'Where do you think you're going?'

Howard visibly flinched.

'Would you like to tell me, Howard Moon, why you think it's appropriate to be turning up late to class in such an important year?'

'My Mum's not well, Sir...'

'Are you well?'

'Yes Sir...'

'Then what's the problem?'

'...'

'Where's your bag, boy? Do you always carry everything to school like that?'

'It was thrown up into a tree...'

Laughter.

As Vince scowled at as many people as he could, with promises to 'thrash 'em up' later, the room began to fall silent.

'Oh what are you gonna do, you little queer!' one of the boys shouted from the back of the room.

Vince stood up, and there was an 'oooh!' of anticipation, 'D'you wanna come over 'ere an' say that so I can clout ya while ya do it?'

'Er, enough!' Mr Wyse thumped his hand down on his desk, 'Noir, step outside please,'

Vince swaggered outside, giving Howard as reassuring a look as he could manage, followed by Mr Wyse.

Leaning against the wall outside the class, Vince looked through the small square window in the door and saw amidst the objects flying around the room Howard shuffling his way to his seat, but not before being tripped up by someone first.

'Stand up straight, Noir!'

Vince sighed.

'Are you chewing gum? This is not the cafeteria!'

'The cafeteria don't sell gum...'

'Who do you think you're talking to? You're leaving me no choice but to contact your parents!' Mr Wyse was truly quite horrified at the cockiness of this skinny teen.

'He's on tour,'

'Give me his name please,'

'Bryan Ferry,'

'Bryan Ferry?' Mr Wyse raised an eyebrow.

'Yeah,' Vince nodded.

Mr Wyse looked up at the clock high on the wall and then at the whirlwind of chaos that was the class room, 'Right get inside, I don't have time to be listening to your lies; I shall find out later,'

Vince joined Howard at their desk.

'Proud of yourselves for interrupting everybody's learning?' Mr Wyse asked them, before trying and failing to address the class, 'Right, settle down!'

Howard was slammed forward into the desk as Jack, the boy who was the bane of their history class, booted his chair.

Vince was in no mood, 'Fuck off, yeah?' he spun in his seat.

There was going to be a fight today, Vince could see it, and he was damned if he was going to come out of it with any marks on his face.