Disclaimer: If you're under the impression that I own the Boosh, YEAH NO.

A/N: Wrote this in my notebook while visiting the National Gallery in London this afternoon, because I am an obnoxious so-and-so who doesn't know how to visit galleries and stuff like normal tourists.

"Now, this room has works from northern Italy from 1500 to 1510. Notice how the - "

"Howard, I'm bored. It's all Jesus this and Saint that and pictures of ugly old people. Where's the pizazz? The sparkle?"

"What about the medieval collection? Quite a lot of shiny gold bits in there."

"Not enough to make up for all the brown bits, Howard. It's just all so grim and pretentious."

"I just thought we could do with a bit of culture, that's all."

"We get plenty of culture at home."

"What, like Yakult?"

"Even Yakult is more interesting than these. Oh look, a sunset! Didn't see that coming."

"The point is the way they used paint to express - "

"Listen, I understand art. I watched an art film last week."

"Oh, did you really?"

"Yeah, it was genius. Just a still shot of a girl playing tic-tac-toe with a scary-looking clown. And it was like four hours long! It's well profound."

"Vince, that's a test card."

"Is that the name of it?"

"Vince, it's - "

"Whatever."

"Look. We finish this wing, then after lunch we'll tour the exhibit of David Bowie's wardrobe from 1970 to 1978. No more complaining. Deal?"

"Howard, have I ever told you how much I love you?"