Disclaimer: The Mighty Boosh and all its characters belong to the two geniuses Noel Fielding and Julian Barratt. I think. Who actually owns that show? I may buy it when I win the lottery…

Good news everyone! I have a new story for you all! So, come with us now on a journey through time and space…to the world of the Mighty Boosh.

"This is an outrage!" Horace Taylor, headmaster of St. Fred's secondary school cried, in a manner not unlike that of the mysterious pink shaman, Tony Harrison. Horace took time out from yanking great handfuls of his thinning hair from his scalp (and putting them neatly in his waste paper basket, of course) to glare at a familiar Goth fairy/electro fan/king of Mods. Yes, it was Vince Noir. The very Vince Noir we all know and love.

Vince didn't seem bothered by the large sweaty man screaming at him. In fact, he seemed to be taking it in his stride. He shifted around in one of the blue arm chairs that resided in the office and grinned guiltily. Fangirls swooned. "Honestly Sir, I didn't mean to knock the old bat unconscious-"

"Regardless!" Horace roared, choosing to ignore the fact that a member of his staff had been referred to as an 'old bat'. "Who even gave you permission to be on the school site anyway?"

"Well you see," Vince began. "My mate Howard, you know, Howard? Howard Moon, jazz maverick, colon explorer, little eys like a crab…"

Horace looked blank.

"Yeah, well, anyway, Howard thought that I should do something for the community, like he does his Jazz club- well, used to anyway." Vince closed his eyes for a moment and shuddered as he recalled that fateful night with the two Goth girls and Howard's attempts to be 'dark'. "At first I thought, nah, but then I had this great idea to do a presentation at the school!"

"I heard about that." Horace groaned. He picked up on of Vince's cue cards. "Mod versus Rocker warfare. A Presentation by Vince Noir." He looked up. "What on earth?"

"Kids need to be taught these things!" Vince persisted. "And being King of the Mods, I thought I'd be the one to teach them."

Horace sighed. "Mr Noir, I think the children are a little too young to remember the Mods-"

Vince clapped his hands to his ears "Don't say that!" He cried. "The Mod spirit will never die out! It's alive in all of us! Those kids have a Mod inside them. And I wanted to be the one to awaken their inner Mod…"

Horace stared in disbelief. "So as part of this presentation you demonstrated self defence…"

Vince nodded proudly.

"…On Mrs Hallam. Mrs Hallam, having no experience of self defence whatsoever, was knocked unconscious by you throwing a moped at her!"

Vince chuckled. "That'll teach her…"

Horace exploded (with a hell of a bang) "Mrs Hallam was almost sixty! Twenty years she'd taught at this school without a days illness! She was to retire next month! Is ANY of this getting through to you?" He finished tiredly, as through this whole statement, Vince had sat, unruffled.

There was a silence, before Vince spoke up. "Twenty years? In one place? She seriously needed to get a life Mr Taylor, if you don't mind me saying…"

"Get out."

"I was only saying-"

"Get out!"

"Fine! This is why I didn't bother with the GCSE's…Teachers!" Vince tutted.

A sly look crossed Horace's features. "Oh Mr Noir!" He called, as Vince was halfway out the door. "I think we may have a way of you to pay off Mrs Hallam's hospital bills…"

"You WHAT!" Howard Moon, man of action cried. Vince was sat cross-legged on the floor in the kitchen eating a banana.

"You heard me." Vince replied. "I'm going to be taking over her class. It's only for a few weeks…"

Recovering slightly form the shock, Howard shook his head and reached down to pick up the shards of china from where he'd dropped his mug in shock. "So…what are you going to be teaching?" He said, fetching another mug. "Art? Music?" He tried to think of things Vince could actually teach.

Vince grinned. "Maths."

SMASH!

Meanwhile, back at the school…

"You WHAT!" The rest of the staff at St Fred's secondary School cried. Horace smirked around at them all, holding onto the lapels of his blazer.

"You heard me!" He replied smugly. "Vince Noir will be doing unpaid labour here at St. Fred's."

There was a clamour of teacher's voices.

"This is preposterous!"

"Horace, think of the children!"

"He has no teacher training whatsoever!"

"SILENCE!" Horace declared. "I am the Headmaster and what I say, goes. For example! Miss Kennet," He called to the English teacher. "Dance like a fish with knees!"

The teachers stared at him.

"Do it I say!" Horace insisted, and began to sing and clap a rhythm. "Cheese is a kind of meat, a tasty yellow beef…"

"I say Horace!" Mr Glebe, Science teacher and after school cricket coach (as you can see he was very upper-class) intervened. "I do think it's rather rotten to give this young Vince chap no pay, whatwhat!"

Horace glared. Which believe me, wasn't pretty. "Mr Glebe, the reason why I laid off all our regular supply teachers is that their wages were keeping me from buying new hot tub parts for the top-secret-staff-room-hot-tub! If we begin to pay this…Vince Noir, then we can no longer have Jacuzzi Tuesdays!"

The teachers went pale. Jacuzzi Tuesdays were the only bright spot in their otherwise meaningless lives.

Apart from BBQ Wednesdays…

And, of course, Sudoku Fridays.

"W-well, Horace, old chap!" Mr Glebe stammered. "When does he start the job?"

"Tomorrow." He told them. "So be prepared!"

"I didn't know you were in the boy scouts sir." Miss Kennet piped up.

"Indeed…" Horace mused. "Did dib dob and all that. But don't have too much faith in the boy. He's a mod…" Horace turned away from the others. "And I'm more of a rocker myself…"