This is like...my first fanfic ever, and for those who don't know, this is based on the show The Mighty Boosh. It's a bit short, because this is only an intro, but...enjoy it anyway.
"Are we going to be there anytime soon? It's too hot in here." Vince asked, looking up from his newest issue of Cheekbone. Howard simply ignored him, turning onto a small dirt path. "Howaaard? Can't we pull over for a bit? I dropped something down there…I need it!"
Howard pulled over, sighing and looking at his friend. It was then that he realised what Vince had dropped. The all-important item turned out to be one of his Charlie drawings. "That's what you needed? How are you going to use a crayon scribble in a moving vehicle? Do you have any sense at all, or is your mind totally focussed on your appearance?"
"Well, I was going to use this address here, and send it into Cheekbone, y'know? I want to see how many other Charlie lovers there are out there." Vince said, pointing to a small paragraph in the front of the mag.
Howard rolled his eyes. He knew by now not to argue when Vince was like this…he'd only banter on about that Charlie character. "So…how are you going to get it to that address?" he asked, starting the van off again. "I doubt you'll find a Post Office out here."
Vince looked slyly at him, pointing to the window. By coincidence, a ninja holding the next issue of the magazine was running alongside them. They opened the window, and Vince shouted out the window to the masked messenger: "Hey, mate! You wouldn't mind delivering this to the address, would you?" He turned back around in his seat after the ninja had gone, already flicking through the pages. "Imagine that…blue's back in…" he mumbled, looking at some pictures of models in blue outfits.
Howard simply looked at him, shaking his head. 'Everything's always fine for him…he has no worries, except for his hair.'
Vince looked in the mirror, trying to imagine what he'd look like if he dyed his hair really light. 'I'd make a great model…' he thought, turning his gaze back on the magazine. Maybe he should buy some of those blue boots sometime? 'Do they have a Topshop around here?' he wondered. Maybe he should ask if they did when they got there. Howard was always boasting he knew a lot about the area…
Howard rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trying to get there before it got even darker. It was already hard to see outside, and this meant he needed full concentration so he could find the right route. 'At least he's being quiet for-'
Suddenly, a loud sound burst from the radio. Vince had put on one of his tapes, and Cars could be heard over the crackle of the old speakers. Howard jumped, and turned to see Vince dancing around, turning the volume up more. "What do you think you're doing!" he asked Vince, turning off the radio.
"I'm entertaining myself! You're always complaining about me annoying you, so I try and keep quiet so you can drive." he answered, flashing a cheeky grin and reaching back for the ON button.
"You're not doing the best job of it…" he said to Vince, trying to guard the radio from any further abuse. Vince tried to get him back concentrating on the road, but Howard was too late to sort the vehicle out. It skidded, sending them rolling off the road, into a small desert which had appeared as if by magic. (Shit, that was bad…)
About an hour later, Vince Noir and Howard Moon had come to the conclusion that they were stranded. Not only was the van wrecked, but Vince's hair was in a state too. His mirrors were inside the car, most likely smashed, so he'd have to carry on with a few tangles.
"How are we going to live without water? By the time the sun rises, it'll be boiling. This is all your fault, you know. You and your stupid Gary Numan tapes."
"My fault? If you hadn't tried to keep the radio to yourself, we wouldn't be in this mess! Howard…are you ok?"