AGGHHH… Writers block has invaded to pillage my mind!
There might not be any more chapters of the Hitchhiker's guide to the Mighty Boosh for a bit, for those of you who read it.
I don't own the Mighty Boosh, all I own is Jennifer. Enjoy!
"What are you wearing?"
Howard sighed, looking up from his copy of the Global explorer at the glittering electro ponce in front of him.
"There's a little thing called manners, Vince."
"Why?"
"what?"
"why is it called Manners? why not Bob, or Tanya, or Justin."
"It doesn't matter."
"it does to me."
"Alright," sighed Howard, standing up, "It's called... Jennifer."
Big Mistake.
"She sounds nice. Who is she?"
"She's a metaphorical person."
"what?"
"Not real."
"Oh, too bad. Does she like Gary Numan?"
"No! she doesn't exist!"
"Oh, so she's a Jazz freak, like you."
"Maybe... No. she's not real."
"Then what does she like?"
"she doesn't listen to music, she's a person who's polite, and that's all we know about her."
"...Is she the stig?"
"NO! look, never mind about Jennifer."
"I'd like to meet her, she sounds like my type."
"I'll let you play Gary Numan if you don't mention Jennifer ever again."
"Ok!" Vince ran off to get his Gary Numan tapes.
Howard had barely got back to his book before Gary Numan was slowly deafening him. "well," he thought, "this is better than talking about Jennifer." his conscience gently reminded his with a mental slap around the face not to mention Jennifer ever again.