The Ballad Of Cactus Jack

by Isobel Morgan

A 'Missing Adventure' script in which Howard becomes a prophet, Vince is jealous, and far too much is said about hair

The Ballad Of Cactus Jack

HOWARD and VINCE are sitting behind the counter in Nabootique.

Nothing is happening.

Nothing continues to happen.

The shop is empty, the only sound is the clock ticking, getting steadily louder and louder, filling the room. Eventually, the ticking gets so loud that Howard gets up and goes over to the grandfather clock, wrenching open the door.

Sitting on the floor inside the clock is a white mouse, wearing tiny shades, a cap and half-a-dozen gold chains around its neck. The mouse has a set of decks in front of it and is holding a megaphone up to the pendulum of the clock, amplifying the ticking.

HOWARD: I suppose you think that's funny, do you?

MOUSE: (in chav voice) Nah man, me needs this for me beats!

HOWARD: Piss off, will you?

He closes the door again, the ticking vanishes. Howard goes and sits back down.

Nothing is still happening. A tumbleweed goes past the window outside.

VINCE: Howard. I'm bored.

HOWARD: I know. You've told me three times in the last half hour.

VINCE: There's nothing to do! I've read NHH twice already.

(holds up a copy of NEW HAIRCUT HOURLY which has a picture of Vince himself on the front, sporting a different haircut to the one he's currently wearing).

VINCE: Any longer and I'll go out of fashion.

HOWARD: I know. There's not even any stocktaking to do.

VINCE: I think I'd rather be bored.

HOWARD: That's because you don't appreciate a well-ordered system, Vince. Stocktaking isn't just part of running a shop. It's what keeps it alive. The very heart and lifeblood of what being a shopkeeper's all about.

VINCE: (giving Howard a look) There's something wrong with you, you know that?

HOWARD: What d'you mean?

VINCE: How can you get so excited about stocktaking? There's a whole world out there, a world with girls and shops and… (thinks about this a bit) stationery?

HOWARD: But I don't need all that. I've got everything I need right here. (folds his arms, looking satisfied at the order he had created within the shop).

VINCE: You know your problem?

HOWARD: I don't have a problem.

VINCE: Yes you do. You've got no vision. All you can see is this little box right in front of you. (mimes a small box)

HOWARD: I don't.

Surreptitiously knocks the small red cardboard box that's sitting on the counter in front of him to the floor.

VINCE: You do. All you can talk about nowadays is ordering in more paper for the photocopier.

HOWARD: Nothing wrong with that. Can't go running out, now, can we?

VINCE: We don't have a photocopier. We need something copied, Bollo takes everything down the newsagents on the corner.

HOWARD: And I suppose spending all your time thinking about haircuts is better, is it?

VINCE: At least I'm out there, doing something. Meeting people.

HOWARD: I meet people.

VINCE: Like who? You know less people than Frankie the Hermit. At least he's on Facebook.

HOWARD: That doesn't mean I don't have vision. I'm Howard Moon. I'm all vision.

VINCE: Since when?

HOWARD: Since always. I've always got something on the horizon. New projects to work on. Places to go. Things to do.

VINCE: And you never do any of them. When was the last time you finished anything?

HOWARD: I wrote that play.

VINCE: What play?

HOWARD: My play.

VINCE: What, that thing you were going on about last week?

HOWARD: Yes

VINCE: It was three pages long!

HOWARD: It generated a lot of interest in some very important circles.

VINCE: You mean Sandeep in the corner shop?

HOWARD: He said it had a lot of promise. It really spoke to him.

VINCE: You spent eighty-nine Euros photocopying it. He would have said that about anything. Come on Howard, admit it. You are seriously lacking in vision.

HOWARD: Never!

VINCE: Whatever. I'm going out. I need to get the next issue of this (holds up NHH), so I can find out what everyone's gonna be wearing next. (fluffs up his hair)

HOWARD: Yeah, go on. You go and blindly follow pointless trends like some kind of blind… follower. Howard Moon follows no man. I'm a leader. A man of vision. I'm – Vince! I'm having a vision!

But Vince has already left.

Screen goes fuzzy as we tune in to what Howard is seeing:

In the style of a European art-house film, an empty desert landscape begins to fill up. First, a rock. Then another rock. A tree, filled with assorted hats, followed by a horse, also wearing a hat. The sun rises behind the scene and this is reflected in Howard's face as it lights up with realisation.

HOWARD: Of course!

LATER:

Vince comes back into Nabootique, carrying a large shopping bag. He doesn't notice at first that the shop is full of people, going up to the counter where Howard is standing.

He's dressed like a prophet in a flowing white gown, he's grown a beard and his hair seems to have gotten longer. Vince takes a pair of wonky knee-high boots out of the bag.

VINCE: Hey, Howard. Check these out. Hand-knitted by blind Latvian grandmothers. Cool or what? There's a hat to match somewhere…

Howard isn't listening, staring serenely into space, his hands folded in front of him.

VINCE: (noticing the lack of response)

Howard?

(Waves a hand in front of him)

HOWARD: Yes, my child?

VINCE: Your what? Howard, are you alright?

HOWARD: I am indeed well, child. For I have had an epiphany. (Unfolds hands) Visions of a world that lies beyond our own, of many, many wonderful things.

VINCE: Are you on that pixie dust again? It sets you off worse than jazz.

HOWARD: (ignoring what Vince is saying) Truths as yet unknown to mankind. The mysteries of the universe, revealed to me in a moment of clarity.

VINCE: (suddenly noticing the people milling around)

Who are all this lot?

HOWARD: They are my loyal followers. The faithful who have gathered to hear the word.

FOLLOWERS: The word! The word!

VINCE: You what? Have you gone completely off the deep end? And – are those my trousers?

A man sitting cross-legged on a shelf to the left is indeed wearing a pair of Vince's skinny PVC trousers. As Vince looks around, he sees more and more of his clothes and accessories on Howard's followers, mostly mixed somewhat incongruously with hippy outfits

VINCE: Have you been giving your weird freak followers my stuff?

HOWARD: (smiling beatifically) Possessions are but an illusion. Clutter that lies strewn in the way in the path of life.

VINCE: Bollocks! Possessions are the path of life. Anyway, you haven't given away any of your clothes. Not even this lot are that desperate.

An attractive girl walks past, wearing Howard's hat and one of his Hawaiian shirts

GIRL: Hi

VINCE: (automatically switching on the flirt) Hi. Alright?

(shakes himself and turns back to Howard, whose demeanour remains the same)

VINCE: You can't go around giving my stuff away! That's like, selling my soul when my back's turned! You'll be giving away my hair off-cuts next!

Inside the grandfather clock, the chav mouse is making a nest from Vince's old hair.

MOUSE: Sorted!

VINCE: This is not on! Is Naboo back yet?

HOWARD: (in normal voice) He's upstairs.

VINCE: This isn't over!

Storms off, knocking the hat (one of his own) from a child's head as he passes

Howard resumes his pose, hands tucked into his sleeves.

HOWARD: Gather around, my children, and I shall speak some more words of wisdom.

The milling crowd sit at his feet, a peculiar mix of hippies, trendies, Goths, punks, etc, all wearing at least one item of Vince's clothing

HOWARD: There is a place. A long way from here. A place of clarity, and wisdom. A deep well of knowledge and understanding…

The scene goes hazy again as we see Howard's vision.

This time, it's night. Under full moonlight, a group of people dressed as rocks are moving very slowly across a chessboard made of sand, occasionally knocking each other over. When they fall, they lie on their backs like trapped tortoises, waving their arms and legs helplessly until helped up by other rocks

HOWARD: (V.O.) And in this way we can see how the endless struggle among men may be avoided, if the paths that we choose are planned, like the ordering of sufficient stationery in a sensible, ordered fashion. Those who do not move at all will be covered in the sands of time, whereas those who move too fast will see nothing but dust blowing past them as they race along.

The rocks all get up on their feet suddenly and start to dance around in a weird Charleston way. If I could write lyrics, then there'd probably be a song at this point

Meanwhile, Vince goes upstairs and knocks on Naboo's door

NABOO: (from the other side of the door) Yeah?

VINCE: Naboo, it's Vince. Have you seen what's going on downstairs? Howard's assembled a freakshow. He's started having visions and they all think he's some kind of prophet.

Door opens a crack and Naboo peers out

NABOO: What do you want me to do about it?

VINCE: I don't know! But he's giving all my stuff away! We've got to stop this.

NABOO: There is a way. But you must find the source of Howard's visions.

VINCE: A quest? Cool. How do we do that?

NABOO: I'm kind of busy right now, Vince. You're gonna have to deal with this yourself for once.

VINCE: Alright! At least tell me how to get started.

Can I borrow your magic carpet?

NABOO: What, after last time? I'm still paying off that fine. And

I had to get it dry-cleaned afterwards. There's a jar of Questing dust in the cupboard under the kitchen sink. That should take you to the starting point. Have you still got that map?

VINCE: Somewhere…

He pats himself down, but his skin-tight outfit has no pockets. A hand reaches out from the side of the screen and hands it to him

VINCE: Thanks.

NABOO: Follow the path, and the source will be revealed.

VINCE: Cheers, Naboo

The door closes. After Vince has gone, we see Naboo sitting on the floor of his room, playing on a hand-held computer

NABOO: Yes! No! Jump! No, not there! Pick up the coin, you muppet!

Vince goes back downstairs and grabs hold of Howard's arm, interrupting his speech to his enthralled followers

HOWARD: For we are all, in our way, both the rocks and the sand, And the moonlight. And the-

VINCE: Alright, you lot. That's enough. Out. I need to borrow Genius here.

General moans and complaints from the followers, but Vince shoos them all out, snatching back his cowboy hat from the same small child and closing the door behind them

VINCE: Come on. We're gonna sort this out, now.

HOWARD: But there is nothing to sort out. I am whole now. I see things as they are, a dazzling array of –

VINCE: That's enough of that. Are you wearing sandals?

(Howard is indeed wearing open-toed Jesus sandals)

VINCE: That's disgusting. I think I'm gonna be sick.

He throws a handful of Naboo's dust over them both and they vanish.

Outside, the full Moon appears in the sky, rotating to reveal his face, grinning inanely

MOON: I saw this film once. It was about how these people, they tried to land on the face of the Moon and they shot this thing, from the Earth and it landed right in the eye of the Moon.

Pause

Didn't look nuffing like me.

Another pause, another grin, then he rotates his face away again

Vince and Howard are walking across a desert that in no way resembles any deserts seen in previous episodes. Dotted around are several cactuses in plant pots that definitely are not made from papier mache and pipe cleaners painted green.

HOWARD: Ah, the simplicity of the open plain. Everything is laid out so clearly, unhindered by the complexities of modern life.

VINCE: I don't think I can take much more of this.

He unfolds the map. On it is the desert they're walking through, with a dotted line leading from a cross marked YOU ARE HERE to a cave marked DESTINATION

VINCE: Ah. Course. This way.

He grabs Howard, who is apparently deep in conversation with a cactus

VINCE: Come on, Spiny Norman.

HOURS LATER

The boys are still walking. The sun is high and full, it's hot, there's no water, no shelter. Vince has somehow magicked up a hat and shades. Howard's face has gone bright red, although he's still serene in manner

VINCE: It's no good. I think we're lost.

Pulls out the map again, which now shows the route they've taken, a twisting maze of a path that doubles back on itself many times, with YOU ARE HERE right in the middle

VINCE: I can't see where we went wrong.

Turns the map upside down, then shakes it and the lines untangle, directing them back on themselves

HOWARD: It is not the arrival that is important. The journey itself may reveal more answers than the destination.

VINCE: Not in these shoes it's not. These are handmade by deaf Peruvian stepmothers. They're not meant to be walked in. I should have gone for the punk boots. They're built to survive a nuclear winter. And they protect you from yuppies.

He stops in front of one of the cactuses

VINCE: Hey, Howard, is it true what you told me about being able to drink cactuses?

HOWARD: True sustenance comes only from understanding.

VINCE: Yeah, but what about this?

Points to the nearest cactus, which has a tap on the side like a beer barrel and a row of glasses laid out

HOWARD: (normal voice again) Yeah, why not? Am a bit parched.

Vince pours them both a glass of green liquid, but as they go to drink, a figure appears, leaping out from behind yet another cactus. Think Bob Fossil in rags, after thirty years or so wandering the desert

RAGGED MAN: Stop! Don't drink that! For if you drink the juice of the cactus, you will anger Cactus Jack!

VINCE: Cactus Jack? Who's he when he's at home?

RAGGED MAN: Cactus Jack! He is the worst possible thing that could happen to anyone! Oh, he's so terrible! Awful! Just to see him is to be terrified beyond belief!

VINCE: Why?

RAGGED MAN: Oh, I can't talk about it! It was so bad, I couldn't get it out of my head for months! Run away, now! Before it's too late!

VINCE: Yeah, see, the thing is, we've got a quest. I need to find the source of my friend's visions.

Howard is staring into space again, caught up in another wonderful vision, although this time we can't see it

VINCE: He thinks he's a prophet

RAGGED MAN: No! Run away before Cactus Jack finds out you're here!

VINCE: How come you're still here then?

RAGGED MAN: I have to know what happens next! And I have to keep leaping out at strangers and warning them about Cactus Jack. It's sort of my thing.

VINCE: You never thought about moving?

RAGGED MAN: You what now?

VINCE: Moving. You know, going somewhere else?

RAGGED MAN: Not following you.

VINCE: There's a whole world out there! (gestures around)

This, it's just desert and rocks. You don't even have shops. You can't just hang around here jumping out at strangers.

RAGGED MAN: What else can I do? I haven't left this desert in over thirty years

VINCE: You've got to have vision. You know, see beyond the here and now. Like, you see this? (points at his hair) I don't just let it grow.

RAGGED MAN: You don't? (tries to run his fingers through his own matted hair, but it's so tangled, they get stuck)

VINCE: (half-laughing) No! Not like him over there (indicates Howard).

I have a little shufti around, see what's going on, what everyone else is doing and I try to start off something that's new and original. Something everyone else'll copy. See? (passes him the NHH with himself on the cover)

RAGGED MAN: (gasps) What wonder is this? I am transfixed! I've wasted my life. All this time, I've been hiding behind cactuses waiting for someone to come past, when I could've been experimenting with (reads with difficulty) curlers.

VINCE: I think it'd take a bit more than that to sort you out. Maybe you should go for straighteners? Or a buzz cut?
RAGGED MAN: Ohhh! I wanna do this right now! Will you help me?

VINCE: I dunno, I'm supposed to be finding the source of Howard's visions

(looks over at Howard, who's still staring into space, totally immersed in his vision)

VINCE: I suppose we've got time.

(lifts a pair of scissors that he got from nowhere)

VINCE: Cool. Let's do this.

LATER:

The Ragged Man is sitting on a stool, a towel over his shoulders. Vince has just finished cutting the now not-so-ragged man's hair into a perfect copy of how he himself wore his hair on the front of NHH. The Ragged Man is ecstatic.

RAGGED MAN: You've made me into a god! How can I ever repay you?

VINCE: Um, maybe you can read this?

(passes him the map)

VINCE: I'm useless with maps.

RAGGED MAN: Sure. It's right over there.

(points at a giant arrow in the distance, flashing on and off in neon lights)

VINCE: Nice one, thanks.

RAGGED MAN: No problem. I used to work for air traffic control, you know.

VINCE: How'd you end up out here?

RAGGED MAN: (thinks) I have no idea. See ya!

Skips off to enjoy his new-found freedom. Vince goes over to Howard, who is still standing by the cactus staring at nothing

VINCE: Hey Howard. I think I might come back here again. Set up my own consultancy. What do you think?

HOWARD: I think there's been a bit too much said about hair this week. What's that all about?

VINCE: Don't ask me. Shall we get back to questing, then?

HOWARD: Please do.

(they walk off again)

HOURS LATER:

Still walking. Background is exactly the same but it is now night. The moon is full and has a sign sticking out of his side that says NO FISHING

HOWARD: Are we lost again?

VINCE: We can't be! I've been following this route exactly and we should be there by now

Howard leans over and takes the map out of Vince's hands, looks at it, looks around, then turns it upside down and hands it back to Vince

VINCE: Oh.

HOWARD: 'Oh', he says. We've been out here for hours! Where is it we're supposed to be going anyway?

VINCE: Finding the source of your visions. How come you're not doing this (does Howard's unfolding hand gesture) and going on about understanding anymore?

HOWARD: I don't know, Vince. Maybe spending all day wandering in the desert with a hair-obsessed simpleton is affecting my clarity

VINCE: I thought that was what you took for hayfever?
HOWARD: That's Clarityn, you berk. (takes a deep breath and composes himself)

Perhaps you should ask for directions?

VINCE: Me? Why me?
HOWARD: You brought us out here. I don't even know where this is

VINCE: Neither do I. I just used Naboo's questing dust. Anyway, who can I ask? There's no-one here.

SNAIL: Oy!

They look down. A giant yellowy-brown snail (or rather, a person dressed as one) is crawling very, very slowly across the desert. He's also Irish

SNAIL: Out the way! Make room! Don't take up the whole feckin' road!

VINCE: Alright! Easy! What's your hurry?

SNAIL: Some of us have homes to go to, you know

HOWARD: What about your shell? I thought that was your home?

SNAIL: Are you serious? You ever tried living in something attached to your own back? The girls'd never go for it, now would they? My missus, now, she'd never be happy with anything less than a palace and she tells me so every fortnight

VINCE: Why every fortnight?

SNAIL: Well it takes me a week to get to work, then a week to get back. You think it's easy being a snail?

VINCE: You work round here, do you?

SNAIL: I run a tiling warehouse. Steve's World Of Tiles

HOWARD: Tiles? Does well, does it?

SNAIL: Well not really, no. You don't get much call for tiles out this far in the desert, you know

HOWARD: Really

VINCE: So you know this area well, then?

SNAIL: Oh, like the back of me shell

VINCE: Do you know how to get here, then? (shows him map)

SNAIL: And what would you be giving me if I help you?
HOWARD: (under his breath) If you offer to cut his hair I will come at you like an angry Alsatian

VINCE: What do you need?

SNAIL: Well… those are pretty nice (looks at Howard's sandals)

HOWARD: What do you need shoes for? You don't have feet!

SNAIL: You want my help, you give me the flat string thingies.

VINCE: We are pretty lost. Come on Howard, they make your feet look like they're being strangled anyway

HOWARD: Alright. But I'm not happy about this (takes off his shoes and passes them over to the snail)

VINCE: Serves you right for giving away all my stuff then

SNAIL: Now, where was it you were wanting to be?

(Vince lowers the map to the snail's eye level. Or eye stalk level rather)

VINCE: We need to find the source of Howard's visions

SNAIL: What, like that one?

Indicates a massive neon sign about twenty feet away, pointing into a cavern, that says 'SOURCE OF HOWARD MOON'S VISIONS'

VINCE: Cool.

SNAIL: Now, if you don't mind, I'll be on me way boys

VINCE: Cheers!

(the snail slides away, very very slowly, wearing one of Howard's sandals around each eye stalk)

SNAIL: (shaking his head) Muppets

Howard and Vince reach the cave entrance, which is at the base of a mountain

HOWARD: After you

VINCE: Why me? They're your visions

HOWARD: I'm not the one with the problem. I'm happy with these visions. You're the one who can't handle them

VINCE: It's having the shop full of your weirdo followers that I can't handle. I mean, what kind of desperate losers would want to listen to what you have to say anyway?

HOWARD: Oh, I see. This isn't anything about vision, or my followers. This is about jealousy.

VINCE: Jealousy? Why would I ever be jealous of you?

HOWARD: You just can't believe that people are interested in what I've got to say for once. That people aren't paying their full and undivided attention to you

VINCE: That's got nothing to do with it! All I want is for you to get back to your usual jazz freak self and to stop giving away my stuff

HOWARD: (Insistent) You're jealous. You just don't know what to do when something happens to me that isn't awful

VINCE: I don't have to listen to this. I'm going in!

Marches into the cave, which turns into a long corridor painted blue, with strip lights in the ceiling. Finding a series of doors, he opens the first one and finds it full of penguins

VINCE: Hi. I'm looking for the source of my friend's visions?

FIRST PENGUIN: (Has a clipboard in its 'hand')

Sorry, this is amateur dramatics

We see that various penguins are dressed in costumes, holding props and scripts

VINCE: You sure? There was this big arrow pointing in here

SECOND PENGUIN: (dressed as a pirate)

Try down the hall

VINCE: Alright. What are you rehearsing?

THIRD PENGUIN: (dressed as a plumber) The Importance Of Being Ernest. If you fancy trying out, we're holding auditions at three.

VINCE: Yeah. I'm gonna go…

He leaves, trying another door further down. This one is smaller, and the only occupant is the shaman Saboo, sitting cross legged on a pile of moss, in the altogether

SABOO: Can I help you?

VINCE: Alright? There was this big arrow pointing in here… I was looking for the source of visions?

SABOO: Does it look like this is the sort of place you'd find visions?

VINCE: Aren't you a shaman?

SABOO: Your point being?

VINCE: Well, what are you doing?

SABOO: What does it look like I'm doing?

VINCE: You're, sitting naked in a cave?

SABOO: I'm trying to move this mountain using the power of my brain

VINCE: You can move mountains?

SABOO: I'm a shaman. I can move any mountain.

(pause)

VINCE: Right. The penguins said to try this door.

SABOO: There's your first mistake. Never trust the penguins.

VINCE: Why not?

SABOO: That ways lies only madness and uncertainty. Penguins are always trouble. Waddling little flightless bastards.

VINCE: Any chance you know where I'm supposed to go?

SABOO: You could try the door at the end. There are some very peculiar things going on in there.

VINCE: Worse than the penguins?

SABOO: No. Nothing is worse than the penguins. But pretty goddamn weird.

VINCE: Alright. I'm gonna… (jerks his thumb over his shoulder)

Good luck with the mountain thing

He leaves. Saboo closes his eyes and then begins to levitate, taking the moss he is sitting on with him

Vince goes through the last door, which is green. Inside, the room is dark, except for a round patch of light on one wall

VINCE: Hello?

(There is a whirring noise, like a generator winding down, then the lights go up. In the room are a number of old-style projectors and enormous piles of round film boxes

A figure appears from behind one of the projectors. He is tall, green and covered in spines like a cactus. If a cactus looked like Julian Barratt painted green and covered in spines)

CACTUS JACK: (for it is he) Who goes there?

VINCE: Alright? My name's Vince. I'm –

CACTUS JACK: I know who you are! You tried to drink from one of my children! Cactus Jack saw you!

(advances on Vince menacingly)

CACTUS JACK: Look!

He points to the round light on the wall, which is now showing the scene from earlier where Vince and Howard did indeed try to drink from a cactus

VINCE: Hey! Have you got Sky One as well?

CACTUS JACK: These are my films. I watch everything, and everything becomes part of my films

(gestures at the stacks of film)

VINCE: You don't have anything to do with the amateur dramatics down the corridor then?

CACTUS JACK: What? Those black-and-white losers! Never! But rent on this entire mountain is too high, so I have to sub-let. There's no money in European arthouse films, you know

VINCE: Is that what these are?

CACTUS JACK: Yes. I was nominated for a BAFTA for that one

The screen is now showing a very slow-moving scene in black and white involving a seemingly random sequence of objects – bananas, straw, a series of hats, giraffes, a hairclip, dead fish etc

VINCE: You know, my friend Howard would love all this. He's really into weird films that don't make any sense

CACTUS JACK: Howard? This man?

The screen now shows Howard waiting outside the cave, staring into space, lost in another vision

VINCE: Yeah. He's been having visions so we came here on a quest. You know, to find out where they're coming from?

CACTUS JACK: Visions?

VINCE: Yeah. He started coming out with all this stuff about truth and hayfever tablets. Then he started giving my stuff away! Now I'm pretty laid back, but I'm not having that.

CACTUS JACK: You do not agree with visions?

VINCE: Not when it means I have to put up with all this nonsense!

CACTUS JACK: Enough! I will hear no more of this!

(a cactus comes up behind Vince and grabs him, holding him)

CACTUS JACK: I will show you! I will make you see!

VINCE: You what? Let go of me, you spiny nutcase!

CACTUS JACK: Look! See my vision!

The cactus turns Vince so he is facing the projection on the wall, and his face falls, eyes widening in horror. Vince screams

OUTSIDE:

Howard snaps out of his vision and notices (the former) RAGGED MAN sitting on a rock nearby, combing his hair and admiring himself in a hand mirror

RAGGED MAN: I am a God! My hair is like a masterpiece of… hair art.

HOWARD: What are you doing back here?

RAGGED MAN: Well I have to have someone to talk to. And I thought you should know, your friend's in danger

HOWARD: Vince? What happened?

RAGGED MAN: (shrugs) Cactus Jack got him. Just giving you the heads up

(returns his attention to the mirror)

Shiny shiny shiny shiny!

HOWARD: There must be something we can do! How did you get away when you met Cactus Jack?

RAGGED MAN: I dunno. I guess he got bored, let his guard down.

HOWARD: How long did that take?

RAGGED MAN: Five years, maybe ten. I forget. You know, it all seems to run together when I think about it now. Except the horror and the mind-numbing terror. That bit I can remember just fine

HOWARD: Ten years! I can't sit here for a decade while Vince is in danger!

RAGGED MAN: Well… there is a shaman in the mountain. But I wouldn't go bothering him.

HOWARD: A shaman! He'll help me, he must do!

(under his breath as he heads into the cave)

As long as it's not Tony bloody Harrison

Back in Cactus Jack's cave, Vince is struggling in the arms of the cactus, trying to turn away from the projection but he's clearly weakening

VINCE: No…no…no more. Please, I can't stand it

CACTUS JACK: No! You must watch them all! My every film, my every triumph. And then tell me what you thought about them. But only if it's to tell me how good they are. I can't stand critics. Bad reviews – pah! The one thing Cactus Jack cannot stand to hear!

SABOO: (appearing through the door, thankfully now dressed)

Big mistake mister!

(he unrolls a scroll and begins to read from it)

SABOO: "The films of Cactus Jack are trite and unbelievable, an almost unbearable combination of boredom and derivative nonsense

CACTUS JACK: Nooooooooooooooooo! No, not the Telegraph Review!

SABOO: Oh yes, matey. (continues reading) "The only thing worse than watching a Cactus Jack film would be to spend an afternoon having my eyes poked out by a child with a blunt stick. But even then it would be a close call as to which I'd rather do"

CACTUS JACK: (clutching his head and writhing in agony)

No, please stop! Not the Guardian! Have mercy!

SABOO: (over his shoulder, sotto voce) Help me out here

HOWARD: Um… Even the romantic comedies of Meg Ryan are preferable to the films of Cactus Jack?

CACTUS JACK: Argh, no! Eurgh, aaaarrrggghhhhhh, help meeeeeeeeee

He collapses into a heap on the floor, desiccating until there is nothing left but a pile of green dust and thorns

VINCE: (weakly) Make them stop, make them stop –

HOWARD: (rushing over to him) Vince! Are you alright?

The cactus holding him has stopped moving, and Howard disentangles Vince from it

VINCE: Howard! Oh, it was awful! He made me watch his films! I couldn't take much more!

(Howard looks up at the projection)

HOWARD: Hold on, that's one of my visions

VINCE: What? That's what you've been seeing?

HOWARD: Yeah. That's one I had back at the shop

VINCE: Are you serious? You've been seeing bad European arthouse films, and you thought they were mystical visions?

HOWARD: Look, they were a lot more meaningful when they were inside my head

VINCE: (laughing now) Oh my god! You're Cactus Jack's projector!

HOWARD: Laugh all you want, little man. But tell anyone about this and I will bring all of these back with us and make you watch them all!

VINCE: (gleefully) The Odeon of Cactus Jack!

HOWARD: Bring it on! I'll come at you like a –

VINCE: What? An angry widescreen TV?

HOWARD: Oh never mind. (To Saboo) Any chance of a life back to the shop?

SABOO: Why not? What with lunatic cactus directors and those bloody penguins, I'm not getting much mountain moving done.

BACK AT THE SHOP:

Vince is still giggling sporadically, Howard is not amused

HOWARD: Are you still laughing? I saved your life back there, you know. You could be a little grateful

VINCE: I'm sorry, Howard. But you've got to admit, it is pretty funny

HOWARD: How is it funny? I really thought that finally I was getting something good, something worthwhile. I was a somebody. I had people listening to me. And it turned out to be the ravings of an insane cactus

VINCE: Oh, come on Howard. It's not all that bad

HOWARD: How is it not all that bad?

VINCE: Well, some of those people are still here

Gestures at the small group standing by the door, casting shy glances at Howard and Vince at the counter. One of them, a trendy young man, comes over

BOY: Please, can you tell us some more about the word? We've waited patiently for your return

HOWARD: (face lighting up) Of course! I have seen much on my journey –

BOY: Not you! The teacher! The giver of wisdom!

(points to Vince, who grins)

BOY: He has shown us the way. "Possessions are the path of life"

Do you have anything else for us, teacher?

HOWARD: That's it! Out! The lot of you, out, out, out!

(shoos them out and slams the door. Vince is still laughing)

HOWARD: That's the final straw. I'm off. I've had enough of this place. I'm gonna hand in my notice and go travelling. Find myself.

VINCE: Find yourself? You're right there!

HOWARD: I mean it! I'm gonna go round the world until I find something people will really want to listen to. Where's Naboo?

VINCE: He's upstairs. But Howard, you don't have to –

(But Howard has already gone, stomping up to the flat and pounding on Naboo's door. There's no answer)

BOLLO: (standing at the stove, baking biscuits) He been in there three days now. Doesn't come out for anything. I got a bad feeling about this

VINCE: D'you think he's ok? He said he was busy earlier.

(presses his ear to the door)

BOLLO: Let me

Bollo goes over to the door and smashes it off its hinges, revealing Naboo still sitting on the floor playing his computer game, clearly not having moved at all. He doesn't look up

VINCE: What's going on, Naboo?

NABOO: Not now, Vince. I'm busy

HOWARD: This is what's been keeping him locked away? What is it, Tetris?

NABOO: (still not looking up) No, you plum. This is the most difficult game there is. It's only my shaman powers that've let me get so far

BOLLO: What your high score?

NABOO: I'm on Level 68, score fifteen thousand and twelve

BOLLO: (taking a similar handheld computer console from the pocket of his apron) Hmm. Bollo on Level 149. Score, eighty one thousand and nine

NABOO: (finally stops playing and looks up)

What? No way! I've been outplayed by an ape!

Gives the console to Bollo, who demolishes it against a bookshelf

NABOO: That's terrible! I'm gonna go out, forget all about this. Does anyone fancy going to the cinema?

Howard and Vince exchange a glance

HOWARD AND VINCE: No. Not really.

NABOO: Suit yourselves. Come on Bollo.

They leave

VINCE: You still gonna hand your notice in?

HOWARD: Probably not, no.

VINCE: Stocktaking, then?

HOWARD: Yeah. You?

VINCE: I'm gonna see if I can get any of my stuff back from the people outside

HOWARD: Alright

The mouse in the clock is asleep, curled up in Vince's old hair

Credits roll over his tiny dreams of DJ Grandaddy Clock the Mouse, featuring a loud ticking beat in the background, and lots of Chav Mice dancing

END.