I keep promising myself I'm gonna stop writing stuff and then I get drawn back in - I swear this sites sooooooo adictive!!! Anyway, this idea came to me when I fas FUMING over the fact Susan Boyle one this evenings semi-final when Diversity were cleary the best!

D/C: I don't own Boosh and I don't Own BGT :P

The blood pounded in his veins. His heart beat a litany of explosions in his chest. He'd never been this nervous. His hands were clammy. He was vaguely aware of Howard muttering soothing nothings to him. But they weren't soothing. They were just more noise, more things to melt into the background, more things to make him nervous. It didn't help that the produces had decided to do a piece on him.

"Vince Noir has had a hard life," The voice of Ant, or was it Dec, commentated on his nervous leg jiggling and nail biting anxiousness. "Growing up in the jungles of India, he's certainly had a rock and roll background being brought up by Bryan Ferry or Roxy Music but will experience be enough to take him through today."

Vince grimaced as the producers asked for photo's of his family and friends. Producers started to interview him.

"I've always felt I'm a rockstar. I was born rocking this look."

He couldn't think.

"I work in a shop in Dalston but I always felt like I might be the chosen one."

He answered like a distant dream.

"I used to be in an amateur band but I had to give it up… mood swings of other members."

His experience foggy and strange.

"I've tried a variety of music and styles; punk, mod, glam folk but electro is where I belong."

Apparently, he was giving witty, funny answers, charming Britain with his daring confidence but in his skull his brain cell was reminding him of something hideously true;

'They only interview you if you're brilliant… ooooor, a laughing stock.'

Vince cringed. This was horrible. He felt sick. His stomach churning as his number was called. Howard grabbed his sleeve and pulled him to his feet.

"Come on little man." he said, "This is your opportunity."

He was pale. He was shaking. He thought he was going to vomit. He could see the microphone stood along on the stage, calling to him, taunting him. He could see the 'X' where he had to stand. He watched the ventriloquist act on before him get the final 'X' as Amanda buzzed. Vince shuddered. That could so easily be him in a moment or two. He listened as Simon ripped the man apart with words like 'useless' 'talent-less' and 'rather watch a frozen chicken cooking'.

Then there was the final decision.
"No."
"No."
"No."
And the man ran off the stage with tears in his eyes.

A small woman, with a clipboard and her hair tied back tapped Vince on the shoulder.

"Okay number 9123. It's your turn."

Vince nodded nervously. He looked at Howard who smiled warmly at him and put his thumbs up. Vince nodded, more confidently this time.

He turned towards the stage, took a deep breath and boosted his hair with his fingers and then strode onto the stage with an unfathomable about of confidence.

"I've never seen such a change in someone." Ant whispered to Howard.

Howard just nodded. It took even him as a surprise, when Vince got to the stage grinned and said;

"Alright."

Vince had been so nervous but he belonged on the stage. Now it was Howard's turn to be nervous. He wanted this so much for his friend. He'd never have done it himself. Even the man of action, multi-instrumentalist couldn't imagine performing in front of the Queen. He couldn't risk the Spirit of Jazz turning up and ruining everything. What if he strapped a bassoon to his head? He shuddered at the thought as he heard Simon say;

"So, what's your name?"

"Vince Noir - rock and roll star."

"Well, we'll be the judges of that." smirked Simon.

"So you're going to be singing are you Vince?" Amanda asked.

"Yes."

"What song?"

"Ummm, it's a song my friend Howard wrote."

A camera was shoved under Howard's nose immediately and the older man flapped it away, though he couldn't help think that that must have been a great shot of his moustache.

"Okaaaay," Amanda tried to smile, though it was obvious she was sceptical, "take it away Vince."

"Right. Thanks."

He looked to the side of the stage, thumbs up and the song started.

Electro beats bled through the speakers and Vince struck his first pose. He drew his hand slowly down his face and then across his eyes and sang;

Driving along on the plastic dream
Heart beats fast like a tiny machine
I am electro boy
I am electro girl

Skating along on the Perspex scene
Crystal moccasins, bionic cheese
I am electro boy
I am electro girl

Vince had never pulled shapes like it. He looked incredible anyway, he'd spent all week getting his outfit ready and it had paid off. This was the best set of his life but was it enough to impress the judges, to impress the infamous Simon Cowell. Howard felt the nerves explode in his chest. Vince looked out to the audience, panting heavily.

This was the moment of truth. What was the verdict?

So, do they like him/ or hate him?? - You decide! Haha.

Seriously, I'm gonna let you guys 'vote' as it were. (lol) So however you 'vote' that's what happens. It like choose your own ending! Haha.

Couldn't help myself. No promises of quick updates, this was written whilst watching MOTD! The Villa game's finished and I'm bored.