A/N: thanks for the reviews guys! This is the first fanfic I've ever written and certainly the first time I've used the website (other than to read others' stories) – so forgive me if I take a while to upload or make some stupid mistake with the ratings or whatever- I'm still trying to work out how the website actually works, teehee

Also, I had serious writer's block with this one, so forgive me if you don't like it . It's longer then the last one though, so at least that's something!

Disclaimer: I forgot to put one of these in the last chapter, but I don't actually own the Boosh. I might wish I did on every birthday candle… but I don't. Sad times.

Chapter 2:

The magic carpet veered madly across the Asian sunset – completely unnoticed by everyone asleep below.

Being a Shaman's magic carpet, it was of course followed by a haze of frog smoke, beer cans and shouts of annoyance from several of its passengers. "But what I don't understand is, why we didn't just stay in India" Saboo called to Dennis. The head shaman sighed and looked around sheepishly as he answered. "Because Saboo I am married to an extreme sports calendar model. There is nowhere in India for extreme sports"

"Well then why don't you just tell her that India is best for our Shaman business?" Saboo persisted. And by shaman business he meant, of course, buying illegal drugs and staying up till god-knows-when in the morning.

"Because then Saboo she would remove my face." This last statement caused an outcry from the back of the carpet where Tony had been sitting – apparently a safety precaution to prevent motion sickness. Whether it worked was debatable, but what it did mean was that he had ended up sat next to Kirk – who was too busy living out wild sexual fantasies in his mind to pay much attention to the stupid, stoned, bodiless shaman.

"You ballbag!" Tony screeched "put the woman in her place, who wears the trousers in your relationship?"

"Well Harrison, it certainly isn't you" Saboo quipped gleefully.

"Halt!" Dennis called, bringing the carpet to a shuddering stop. "I will not have stupid bickering on our lads' night out. We are based in Shoreditch. And that is where we will stay." He looked around to gage everyone's reactions to his outburst, but no one looked like they were on his side.

"Besides" the otherwise silent Naboo spoke up "there aren't any Dixons in India". This statement was received by a rumble of agreement from the majority of the Shamans, and the sound of retching from Tony at the back of the carpet. Apparently sitting there hadn't helped.

….

A few hours, a couple of cases of poppers and a few hash cakes later, Naboo sat slumped in Bollo's lap – who appeared to be trying to swat something away from his kneecaps. "D'ya think the shop's alrite Bollo?" he lisped, head drooping.

"No." Bollo replied "Howard in charge – he scare customers with tiny eyes."

"Yeah I suppose" Naboo frowned "I better check on them, pass us my crystal ball will ya?"

After this was inflated and ready for action Naboo squinted inside, to be met with an image of what appeared to be Vince drunkenly fighting himself. Which could only mean one thing. "I don't believe this. " He sighed, "pass us ma phone Bollo, I need to call Howard."

…..

Howard Moon was woken from a very nice dream – about being presented a plaque by the major for being the brownest person in Leeds – by the sudden blaring noise of 'Cars' by Gary Numan being emitted from his phone. He sighed, Vince always changed his ringtone 'in case it went off in public' he had said. To be honest Howard couldn't see the problem in having Charlie Mingus as his ringtone in a nightclub – but Vince had just looked disgusted when he had told him this, so he left it. He sighed; another example of him trying to impress that electro ponce, and he'd never even noticed. He glanced at the clock 6:15 – oh damn! He was supposed to open up shop in 15 minutes!

"Hello? Howard moon, man of action speaking" he mumbled into the mouthpiece

"Oi Howard you ballbag! It's Naboo" came the reply.

"oh hey Naboo" he said flustered, trying desperately to sound more like a man of action and less like a hung-over snail. "What's up?"

"Not much, but just keep Vince indoors till I get back yeah? I think Lance Dior's due to make an appearance and I don't think he's feeling too good about your last meeting"

Howard smiled at the memory "oh right" he said. Now he thought about it; he faintly recalled Vince telling him something about Lance yesterday, but he had just assumed it was another 'Vince excuse' not to wash the window so had just told him to get on with it. But he didn't mention that to Naboo. It was nothing Monsoon Moon couldn't handle himself. "Yeah ok Naboo, keep Vince inside – got it."

"Whatever just don't let him out of your sight." Naboo said, hanging up.

Howard sighed, put the phone away and snuggled back into bed.

Back on the carpet the silence was ruined by Bollo stating; "I got a bad feeling about this".