A/N: I don't know where this came from, but I thought it was rather amusing at the time. However, I'll let you be the judges of that! By the way, To Hell and Back will be updated tomorrow!

Disclaimer: All things Boosh belong to the lovely Julian and Noel.

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"Hey, Naboolio, check out my new coat!" Vince said, proudly, twirling around so it flew out around him.

Naboo looked up from his breakfast, a look on his face that was reserved for humouring Vince, and said, "Nice – where d'ya get it?"

Vince chuckled, still twisting about. "No idea. I just woke up wearing it."

Naboo frowned. "You don't remember where it came from?"

"No. Mind you, I was pretty wasted last night." He sat down at the kitchen table and helped himself to cereal, singing quietly to himself as he poured out some tea.

Bollo grunted. "Coat make Vince look like made of rainbows."

The door slammed downstairs and Howard appeared, carrying a newspaper and a bottle of milk.

"Hey, Howard!" Vince said, jumping out of his chair and spinning round for the thousandth time that morning.

"How do you do that?"

Vince looked confused. "Do what?"

"You wake me up at three in the morning, crashing about and singing like you're auditioning for The X-Factor, your eyeballs swimming in alcohol, and then the next day, you're completely fine. How? How do you do it?"

Vince laughed. "I know, it's genius. So, do you like my coat, then?"

Howard dumped the milk and paper on the table and pulled a face. "You look like Joseph. You got a choir of school children, too?"

Vince stuck his tongue out at him and sat back down.

"Where did you get it, anyway? Was the local am-dram group having a clear out?"

"You know what? I was so pissed, I can't remember."

Howard rolled his eyes and flopped down on the sofa, grabbing the remote and switching on the television. The news channel flashed up, and Howard watched intently, his jaw slowly dropping when he saw what the item was about.

"Vince!"

"What?"

"Come here!"

Noting Howard's urgent tone, Vince scurried over and plonked himself down next to him, Naboo and Bollo joining them. They all stared at the screen.

"So, Clare, can you tell us exactly what happened?"

"Well, Mark, going by the CCTV footage, a group of youths broke into the Adelphi Theatre on London's Strand at around two this morning, via the stage door. They exited about ten minutes later, carrying a bundle which has now been confirmed at the famous Technicolour Dreamcoat. Early reports suggest that as the alarms failed to go off, a member of the group might have been either an employee, or former employee, who knew the code for the alarm system. I've also just been informed that all performances from today onwards have been cancelled until further notice as there isn't a spare coat – that was the only one they had."

Vince gave a rather unmanly squeal and sprung up from the sofa, shrugging the coat off onto the floor and hastily stepping away from it.

The others just stared at him.

"Oh my God oh my God," he panicked, flapping his arms about.

"You muppet!" Naboo cried. "Who were you with last night?!"

"I don't know! I met them at the club!"

Howard got up and walked over to Vince, looking like he was about to strangle him. "You complete idiot! What we gonna do?"

"What do you mean 'we'?! You're not the one handling stolen goods!" Vince cried.

"No, but we're harbouring a fugitive! Oh, God," he put his hands on Vince's shoulders and shook him. "I can't go to jail, Vince! I've got so much to give!"

Vince shook him off. "You?! What about me?! I'm the pretty one! I'm the one who's gonna be lined up for a bumming!"

"Guys!"

Howard and Vince turned to look at Naboo, who was standing there with his hands on his hips. However, instead of giving advice, he just said, "Bollo and I are off now – shaman business."

"What?! You can't leave now! What am I supposed to do with it?!" Vince gestured wildly to the coat on the floor.

Naboo shrugged. "Just give it back."

"Give it back?! Listen, you little smurf..." he trailed off when he realised that both Naboo and Bollo had disappeared. "Howard!" he grabbed his shirt collar, eyes unnaturally wide. "What do we do?!"

Howard caught his hands and held him still. "Look, you could barely see the back of your head in that video, so why don't we just hide it in the loft and just forget about it?"

"I can't," Vince said, hopping from one foot to the other. "As amazing as it looks on me..."

"Vince!"

"Sorry!" he said, snapping out of his reverie. "Anyway, I've ruined their show – they can't continue without the coat! And it's a genius show – have you seen the costumes?!"

Howard flopped down onto the sofa. "What do you suggest then?" he paused for a moment, thinking. "Actually, this is your problem – I should just go out and leave you to it." He got up again and made towards the stairs. Vince flew after him.

"Wait!"

"Vince, I'm sick of how irresponsible you are! Getting drunk and going off with people you don't know, and then expecting us to clear up your mess! I won't do it anymore."

"Oh, Howard, come on. I'm sorry, I am. It won't happen again, just please, please, help me."

Howard shook his head. "How many times have I heard that?" he said, pushing past him and making his way down. Vince practically leapt at him, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back.

"Please, Howard!" He gave him his best hurt puppy impression, pouting as though his life depended on it – which, in some way, it did.

Howard sighed, frustrated with himself for always giving into him. "Fine."

xxxx

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