I don't really have anything to say on this, just hope you like it.

Disclaimer: Ciro is mine, the rest all belongs to Julian Barratt, master of the universe, and Noel Fielding, who can walk through titanium alloy. True facts.

What You Weren't to Know

Finding that he had no one to walk home from school with, Ciro decided to detour past the strange shaman's house again. He lived in a tiny rural village that was mainly Amerindian, but which relied somewhat on the trade of the westernised towns nearby, so he had seen the strange fashions that the majority of the world was wearing. This shaman character didn't seem to fit into either world, so Ciro wondered where he had come from. It was odd that no one ever came to see him or anything. The village was usually very friendly, and newcomers were always welcomed. Both of Ciro's parents were European immigrants and no one seemed to care. They dressed like everyone else, they had given him a normal name; they were no different to any of their friends who had lived in the village for generations.

But this shaman was clearly different. Ciro had once heard one of the old Amerindian shamen saying that the newcomer's methods and beliefs were foreign magic, and not true shamanism in the Amerindian sense.

Most people left him alone. They were nervous of his unabashed strangeness. Either that or the enormous aging gorilla that always seemed to be close by whenever he was around. But Ciro felt drawn to him. He didn't know why. Maybe he just liked strange, unusual things. His parents did. That was why they had decided to live here, they told him.

And so when Ciro walked home from school alone, he usually detoured so he could go past the shaman's house. Sometimes he stopped for a minute to look at it, so inconspicuous, yet sheltering the oddest creature Ciro had ever encountered. Normally, he came and went unnoticed, but today the shaman came out of the front door and looked at him with an amused smile.

"You can come in, you know," he said. "I won't bite."

Ciro felt his cheeks burning, yet somehow found himself crossing the street to the shaman's house. He hesitated a few feet from the door, but the shaman took him by the wrist and led him inside. Ciro didn't think to object.

"You're Ciro, aren't you?" the shaman asked, giving him a quizzical look.

Ciro could only nod. How did he know that?

The shaman smiled. Proudly? "I'm Naboo," he said, taking Ciro into his living room. "Do you want some tea?"

"No, thank you," Ciro answered.

"Go on," laughed Naboo. "I don't mind."

"Oh. Okay," said Ciro, figuring that it would be easier to accept than to refuse.

"Bollo!" Naboo shouted. "Make us some tea, will you!"

"Okay!" came a gruff, low call back.

Okay. So the gorilla talked and made tea. Ciro had no trouble accepting that.

Naboo was watching Ciro again with that same amused look. Ciro felt himself tense, unsure what to say or do. He must be very red…

Crash! There was the sound of shattering from the room beyond, which Ciro reasoned must be the kitchen.

"Oh for god's sake," Naboo moaned. "Sorry. He's losing his sight." He disappeared into the kitchen.

Still a little nervous, Ciro took a moment to survey the room. It was decorated in a mish-mash of styles; some parts were the local style, and the rest was… western? Indian? Some other places?

His eyes fell on an old photo by one of the windows. It was a black and white digital print of a young woman with dark hair dressed in elegant western-style clothes, looking up at the camera with large eyes. Her eyes were beautiful, but there was something about them that Ciro couldn't quite put his finger on. They looked sort of… hollow.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he," said Naboo quietly. Ciro jumped. He hadn't heard him come back in. Naboo passed him a cup of tea.

He? Yes, he. If you looked close enough, certain things that would have confirmed he was a woman were missing.

"Not his best, though," Naboo continued. Was it Ciro, or did he sound much sadder than before? "We had these done to try and cheer him up. No good really. Look at his eyes. I swear, they actually could light up rooms before. But there he looks like he hardly knows what's going on."

Ciro looked into those eyes again. "Who is he?" he asked.

"His name was Vince Noir," Naboo answered. "He lived with me for quite a while. He was a sweetheart most of the time, but when he let go, he had one hell of a temper on him. But we never blamed him for it. He thought he was untouchable. So when he went too far and something happened that was out of his control… he couldn't handle it."

"I'm sorry," said Ciro.

"Don't be," replied Naboo. He was still smiling, but there didn't seem to be anything behind it.

Not wanting to see his face like that, Ciro looked back at Vince Noir. He was thin. Very thin. It looked so terrible, even under all that beauty.

He heard Naboo laugh mirthlessly. "Go on, ask," he said.

"What?" Ciro asked, barely louder than a whisper.

"I know you want to know."

Ciro looked down, face hot again. After a while, he managed to mumble "what happened?"

Naboo gave that emotionless laugh again. "He got depressed, then he got anorexia, then he killed himself," he said. The emotion seemed to run slowly back into his face after he said it, and when he spoke again his voice was full of sadness. "He just gave up. We'd even managed to get him eating again, but he just didn't want to live any more. It's funny; however dull his eyes looked, you still notice the change when he died."

"You were there?"

"There?" Naboo laughed. "I held his hand and passed him the pills!"

Ciro was shocked. He had… Naboo had helped someone die? That was practically killing them. It was killing them.

"But… why?" he asked. "Why did he want to die?"

Naboo turned away. He crossed the room and picked a battered paperback off a table. He pulled out another photo, this one a positively ancient Polaroid, looked at it longingly, then passed it to Ciro.

No! It couldn't be.

The gorilla, Bollo was on one end, his fur much darker, and Naboo was next to him, looking exactly the same. On the other end was Vince Noir, and Ciro was indeed struck by the brightness and light in his blue eyes. But between them…

There he was, only younger, his hair a little shorter, moustache thinner, skin paler and wearing western clothes. He had one arm around Naboo's shoulders and the other around Vince Noir's, and he was grinning. Naboo was reaching up and had one hand on his nearer shoulder, while Vince Noir was practically latched onto him, one arm around his shoulders, the other round his waist. Their heads were leaned in together.

"To be honest," said Naboo, "I think he just missed your dad."