If you liked my last story then you'll hate this, for I guaranty this will be a big one. I wrote the whole thing in script form, please don't hurt me if you hate it. *meep*

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mighty Boosh, the Gods known as Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding do. Worship!

Warning: Before you tuck into this i just have to warn you that i fail as a fanfiction-ist. Enjoy folks. ^-^

Chapter 1

It was a rainy evening in Dalston, hadn't stopped raining for a few days now. Naboo the Shaman and his familiar Bollo entered the Nabotique. Vince Noir (flamboyant Rock N Roll star wannabe) noticed the little ringing of the door bell, looked up and smiled at his friends.

Vince: Hey ya right Naboo? How'd the meeting go then?

Naboo: Alright I suppose. Dennis is going through with the divorce, wouldn't shut up about it.

A shiver went up Vince's back just at the thought of Dennis, who a few months ago tried beheading the Electro Poof at a certain Jazz Maverick's birthday party.

Said Maverick was sat behind the counter trying (and failing) to finish off his crossword. Vince glanced in his direction. "How boring that crossword must be" Vince thought. With it's meaningless text and old paper, once white now turning into a type of yellowy brown. "That things probably as old as Howard." Vince liked colourful magazines with few words and lots of pictures. Saying whats in and whats not, where the coolest peepz are hanging out these days, and what to name your mutt (pet dogs are SO in). Vince soon put the idea of having a dog to a halt, knowing Naboo wouldn't let him keep it in his flat. Bollo waddled towards the stairway with shopping bags under arm.

V: Wait Bollo, did you remember that book i wanted?

Bollo: Oh yeah! (Bollo pulls out the book, whick looked way too big to fit into that bag.)

V: Ah brilliant. Thanks Bollo you're a star.

B: No problem Vince. Bollo do anything for you.

Bollo patted Vince's shoulder in a friendly manner. Howard looked up from his crossword, only now paying attention to them.

Howard: Hey Bollo my man, remember to get 'Poet's World for the Unique Thinker' magazine for me? This week it's giving an insider of how to write the thoughts of a tadpole.

B: Bollo not your delivery boy.

H: I take it that you don't have it then?

Bollo just grunted in response.

N: We'll get it for you tomorrow Howard. We need to go back shopping anyway because a certain gorilla forgot the 'ripe toenails' and 'lizard feathers'.

B: Bollo can't remember everything.

N: It was only those two things i asked you to get.

Naboo and Bollo went upstairs still bickering, leaving Howard to stare at the large book in Vince's hands.

H: Big read isn't it? I didn't know you were into books, especially ones that big. You're renowned for your short attention span. I hardly see you reading more then five pages of that.

V: What?! I've got a longer attention span then you. I went to that festival with Leroy for three nights straight and not once did i get bored. You on the other hand can't stick to one thing, within minutes you're doing something else. Hands moving from a unfinished puzzle, searching through photos, feeling up curtains, hands going into pockets, hands going into 'other' peoples pockets.

H: Hey that was a misunderstanding. I never went into her pockets, I just dumped into her and she freaked out.

V: You were caught red handed, her lipstick had melted and it was all over your fingers.

H: I'm a make-up artist Vince, thats why I had lipstick on my hands.

Vince started laughing hysterically, which annoyed Howard no end.

H: I don't see whats funny.

V: You, a make-up artist? As if. You don't know how to keep yourself looking decent.

H: I take offence to that sir.

V: Yeah whatever.

Vince shock his head still laughing, Howard thought it wise to move on.

H: Whats that book about anyway?

V: Oh this is genius. It's by Lynette Smith, and this book right not only has fashion from the 60's going up to the present day, but also gives you an insight of what will be in fashion ten years from now.

H: And you need that, why?

V: I need to know these things Howard. It's part of who i am. Do you know what it'll do to my image if i missed out on the smallest of detail?

H: Theres more to life then fashion Vince, I've told you this many times. Instead of wasting money on clothes we should be concentrating on our future careers.

V: I know that!

H: Well then.

Howard gave Vince a stern look, then went back to his crossword. Vince smirked back at him, turned around and headed upstairs.

Howard sat there for a couple of minutes, eventually putting away his puzzle book, not managing to get one word all day out of it. Though he is Howard T.J Moon, no crossword will get the better of him, he'll go back to it tomorrow. Sighing while running his hands through his hair, he got up ready to lock up the shop for tonight, but before he could turn the key, the door flew open. A figure stood in the doorway, Howard never noticed anyone through the window approach the shop so this gave him even more reason to be freaked out.

H: Er..we're closing for tonight sir. You'll have to come back tomorrow.

(stranger): I won't be here tomorrow. You see i'm in the music biz, music never stops, never sleeps. I just wanted to ask if you know anyone with musical talent?

H: Musical talent? (eyebrow rises)

(s): Yes. We're looking for a 'Jazz' musician.

Howard turns to stare at the viewers (you), mouth slightly ajar. "Is this fate?" He was bought out of his state of mind by a hand waving in front of his eyes.

(s): Hellooooo anyone home?

H: IT'S ME!! (he suddenly bursts out)

The stranger jumps back in surprise, confusion spreads across his face.

H: (Looking a little embarrassed) Sorry i mean. I'm a Jazz musician.

(s): You are? Brilliant! You wouldn't be interested in coming to the auditions i'm holding for my new 'Tune Bazzle' would you? You see i'm collecting enthusiastic new jazz talent from around London, I and a handful of judges will decide who's the best. Then take them on tour around Britain, showing their stuff to the larger audience.

The stranger shakes around a bit, wiggling his fingers in front of his face with his eyes closed, poorly mimicking someone playing a saxophone. Howard for the first time took a real good look at him. The stranger had a Graham Norton-ness about him, difference being he had a bigger eyes and was half Pine Martin from the waist down.

H: I don't want to be one in a handful, being tugged around on a jazz chain. I go solo, following my own route on the jazz express.

(s):Oh you won't be one in a band, sorry if I gave off that impression. Everyone I decide to take will take their turns playing their own thing. Getting them out there to be loved individually. I guaranty fame and fortune by the end of the tour.

A smile spread across Howards face. He was liking the sound of this more and more.

H: Really, and all that just after a couple of gigs around Britain?

(s): That's only if the audience love you mind. If so the UK is only the starting point, you'd have the whole world next listing to your songs. Just imagine it, your name in lights. What is your name by the way?

H: Howard Moon.

(s): Howard Moon? Well thats a jazzy name if ever i heard one. Ah i love it!

H: Really?

(s): Oh yes, i think i'll call my new puppy that. You know having a pet pooch is the in thing these days, i might actually get two.

H: Hey enough about dogs. What about my name in lights?

(s): It takes one step at a time. Are you willing to take the first step, or should I move on?

He holds up a pink leaflet with red patterns around the edge inbetween two of his fingers, waving it in front of his face. Howard moves his head with the movement of the leaflet, like he's under a trance.

H: I'm in.

(s): Wonderful! Hope to see you there, and don't be late. I don't give these away to just anyone you know.

He hands over the leaflet, which also works as a backstage pass. He gracefully turned on his heel then ungracefully strode away from the Nabootique.

H: Wait! Whats your name sir?

(s): Call me Mr GougouFlower, or Leslie if you must.

Then he was gone. Howard looked down at the address on the leaflet. Was this his big break? A chance to show the world what it's been missing all these years? Was he ready to leave the shop for fame? Well yes in the back of his mind he was always ready for that. But what about his friends? He knew how much Vince hates jazz. Could Howard leave him to pursue his dream?

Howard sighed, finally closing the shop door, then headed upstairs for a cup of tea.

First chapter done, but many more to come.

Lynette Smith is a random name i made up, she is not based on anyone so if your name happens to be that then it's totally a coincidence. Leslie GougouFlower is also my character so no using. This won't be the last you hear of Leslie i guarantee you.