When Howard met Vince
Ever wondered how Vince and Howard got together? (not in that way, its not that kind of story)
I don't own the Mighty Boosh, two complete geniuses called Julian Barrett and Noel Fielding do.
Vince Noir realized that it was raining.
"SHIT!" it was only a matter of time before his hair would be flat and lifeless. This would be a disaster. He also realized that the massive flares and the moon boots would not help him in his effort to find shelter.
"Why cant mods just wear trainers?" he said to him self under his breath. A clap of thunder brought him to his senses. Running down the waterlogged Hackney street he said a prayer of silent repentance to Mick Jagger.
Howard Moon stared at the martini in front of him. He had ordered it to try and make himself look cool and sophisticated, but soon realized that martini actually tasted like badger piss. With a cherry floating in it.
He had found himself in the bar in the East End as he had heard that the streets of London were paved with gold. True, his point of reference had been a Ladybird book of Dick Whittington. Still, it didn't take away from the fact that London was a lot like Leeds, except with more angry people, less Northerners and more Cockneys.
Already he had been asked by four men if he was 'Lookin' at them funny'. He had considered catching the next tram back to the station but every time he thought of Yorkshire, he felt the embarrassment of the Jazz night once again. He looked down at his trumpet in its mock leather case and had one of those voice flashback thingys. Like in the movies.
"I'm the Spirit of Jazz, Howard. You are my bitch!"
Howard was shaken out of his daydream as a skinny flurry of colourful clothing and hair burst into the bar.
"Has anyone got a mirror?" Vince Noir yelled at the top of his voice.
He was met by silence. He looked wildly around at the various cockney stereotypes and realized that there was little hope for his hair now. Why had he left the whole of his mammoth mirror collection at the kiosk?
Vince was slowly began to sink down to the floor. He could feel his mesmerizing powers slowly sinking away from him as his hair became flatter and flatter.
"Ohh… this is a sad day for Shockwaves" said Vince as he folded into a ball.
Suddenly he felt a shadow cross over him.
"I don't have a mirror, but I do have this, if its any help." said Howard holding out his super shiny trumpet in its case.
Vince leapt up and pulled out a comb, hairspray, mousse and a hairdryer. I n a few moments, his hair was taller than ever before and he was preening in the reflective surface of Howard's Jazz trumpet.
"Cheers mate! I was having a bit of a shocker" said Vince. "I'm Vince Noir, rock n roll star" he said, proffering a hand to Howard.
Normally, Howard would have searched desperately for a way to get away from this Glam Rock poof he was now faced with. However he could be certain of two things.
One: Vince was the only person in London who hadn't tried to nick off with his wallet and two, he had just saved the fashion conscious weirdo from certain doom (flat hair) and therefore, Vince would feel obliged to buy him a drink at least.
"Howard T.J Moon" said Howard, shaking Vince's hand.
Chapter 2 will eventually come rattling out of my mind cogs at some pouint, I think. Anyway reveiw you suckballs.