Ah here at last a chapter of new, the plot is so shit it'll make you spew.
Disclaimer: People, objects and things in between in the Boosh world belong to Julian Barratt and his wife Noel Fielding. There are some of my OC's in here (as usual).
Chapter 12
Naboo: Alright we're here.
Vince jumped off the magic carpet and onto the ledge of the only open window and climbed inside. Naboo sat crosslegged near the front of the carpet, lowering it so he could get a better look at the interior. Thankfully Vince was the only one in that room, they didn't want to be spotted sneaking in. The faint sound of music and chatter could be heard, Naboo then noticed Vince was looking a lot paler than normal, if that was even possible.
N: You're not having second thoughts are you?
Vince: That sound.
N: It's called music.
V: It's, it's Jazz!
N: So?
V: I feel sick.
N: Get over it.
V: But Naboo, you know how poorly I get when in contact with jazz.
N: Vince that's all in your head. No one can get ill from different forms of music.
V: I can, I'm special remember.
N: Don't forget why you're here, if it helps then try blocking it out from your mind.
V: You can do that?
N: Yeah, I'm always doing it. Helps me concentrate when Bollo insists on playing his music full blast.
V: Thanks Naboo.
Vince gave him a half hearted smile. Naboo grinned back at him, now moving the magic carpet away from the window and up into the sky out of sight. Watching the blue shaman disappear ,Vince then opened the door and left the room, on to search for his friend.
Outside the guest hall prowled a restless Leslie who was frantically looking around, fidgeting with his tail. He jumped at the sudden presence of Howard running towards him, but not to him. Leslie out stretched his hand and grabbed the back of Howards jacket, stopping him from going any further.
Leslie: Whoo there cowboy! Where'd you think you're going? Your disappearing act earlier has caused chaos. We are here because of you and you don't seem to realize this.
Howard: I don't care to be frankly honest.
L: Well that attitude won't get you anywhere.
Howard started at him, raising an eyebrow.
L: Alright. You're a highly successful famous jazz musician. But running off randomly with no explanation ain't looking good on your part dear.
H: I'm sorry for that okay. But at this moment all I care about is finding my best friend. I miss him so much and I know he's here.
L: I'm sure this 'friend' of yours will be in the Staple Hall with everyone else waiting for you.
H: I would like to check the passageways first.
L: Why? Surely he'll be in the hall.
H: He's..not the type that would willingly mingle with jazz fanatics.
L: You're friends with such a person? Well he's someone you can clearly do without.
H: You don't know him. Sure he's different from me in every way but that doesn't matter to me, not anymore sir.
L: Uh huh. That's all well and good Moon, but I can't let you run off now. The guests are becoming exceedingly unpleasant having to wait for you, and if this friend of yours wants to be found then I guarantee he'll be in the hall. Anyway if you don't get there and do what you do best, then it's my head on the line.
H: How come? I'm the famous one here. If anything goes balls up then I'll be the one to blame.
L: Yes but I'll be left picking up the pieces. Theres a very special someone that'll be there watching you tonight and who I've arranged to meet you in person later on.
H: I'm not in the mood to meet yet another journalist, remember what happened the last time?
L: Oh don't, I never want that mental image back. But no it's not a journalist. It's my boss, our boss, the one you've been dying to meet.
H: Right. (he grumbled)
L: Well don't sound too enthusiastic now will you.
H: Sorry. But why today of all days?
L: Why does it matter? Now come on you've kept them waiting long enough.
Leslie was now pushing Howard in the direction of the hall with some force, Howard all the while not making it any easier.
Chatting amongst themselves stopped momentarily as Vince passed. Looking at him with disgust they moved back to avoid getting close to this raven haired stranger. Vince was not used to this, was not used to it at all. People normally flocked around him all wanting a piece of Noir. Is this how it was for Howard when they where still together? People blanking him out and regarding him as a waste of space. This was how it used to be, but the tables have turned and it was Vince that was now in that position. If Vince knew it felt this horrible then he wouldn't have gone out so often, instead he'd have stayed in with Howard to keep him company. Everyone seemed to be heading in one direction so Vince followed. They obviously knew where they were going, which was much more than could be said for the doleful Mod. As he walked past an open door two women hurtled themselves in front of him, not allowing him to go any further.
woman 1: Look what we've got here.
woman 2: How on earth did someone in your state manage to get in here?
V: What do you mean by 'someone in my state'?
w 1: Not meaning to be rude or anything dear. But you look like something a cat's coughed up.
Vince looked at his reflection with the small hand mirror he randomly pulled out of thin air. Mascara was smudged along his eyes, lips were cracked, hair hadn't been combed in ages. His shirt was stained with more mascara, yogurt and specks of ink from his colouring jeans now had holes in them (not artifical ones) and he had forgotten to put on any shoes so his lime green and white striped socks could be seen. He was appalled by what he saw.
V: I look terrible!
w 2: How'd you not notice before?
w 1: Were you heading to the Staple Hall?
V: The what hall?
w 1: Well not only is this boy a mess but he's also dense. We should have noticed that from the off.
w 2: He obviously must have been drinking and somehow in his drunken state of mind managed to sneak in. He probably has no idea where he is.
w 1: Poor boy.
V: I haven't been drinking, I know exactly where I am.
w 1: In denial.
V: I'm in the Royal Cabbage.
w 2: Maybe not.
w 1: hmm.
V: I'm searching for my friend, Howard Moon.
w 1: Everyones friends with Mr Moon.
w 2: I would like to be more than his friend.
She started licking her lips, which resulted in her getting a slap on the arm by her laughing mate.
w 1: Listen, everyone here has come to see him. But you'll never be allowed any further if one of the other staff spot you. We here have a dress code you see, got to keep a reputation after all.
V: So what should I do? I desperately need to see him in person.
w 2: You don't need to do anything, we'll get you spruced up.
V: Er.. times not really on my side.
w 2: Nonsence. I'm a profressional make up artist and she's in charge of clothing, we often work for the celebrities.
w 1: And we're not letting you go looking like that.
Vince suddenly giggled stupidly, both women exchanged looks.
V: I remember Howard claiming to be a make up artist in a conversation we a had long time ago. Always making up excuses.
w 1: I can't imagine him as one. Hey Stacey if that was the case I think you'd have more of a chance.
w 2: Oh shut up you.
Both women stopped and noticed Vince had tried sneaking past them.
w 1: Oh no you don't!
They grabbed an arm each and pulled a protesting Vince into the room they'd come from, quickly locking the door behind them.
Aww poor Vincey, don't worry darling your in safe hands. Oh wait he's been literally dragged into a room with a couple of my OC's, that can't be good for anyones health. o_o