I'd like to apologise to all in advance for the horrendous attempt at a master crimp that is to appear in the following chapter. I am very sorry, oh so very sorry.. I hope it doesn't ruin the experience too much for anyone...
Three hours had passed. It was raining heavily by now, and Vince and Howard were still standing outside the studios where the Honey Monster lived and filmed his pilfering adverts. They'd attempted to charm the secretary, bully producers and security men alike and had shouted themselves hoarse in demands for access to the big yellow thief, but all to no avail.
The jazz maverick carefully set down the musical skull he was carrying and wiped rain water from his eyes, spitting out the swimming pool sized amount that had dripped into his mouth from his moustache. A little tropical Nemo-fish came out in the spray and flopped haplessly about in a puddle on the pavement.
Vince kindly picked the fish up and dropped it into the small lake that had formed inside the remains of Joey Trombone's fabled head. "Why don't we just give it up, Howard? They're never going to let us in."
"Giving up is not my style. I'm Howard Moon, I don't give up. We've got to bring the yellow-faced corporations to justice, we've got to do it for the little men, Vince, the ones that are too small to stick up for themselves."
"Alright, well you can do it on your own, I'm going home. It's going to take me hours to sort my hair out. Do you know what rainwater does to it?"
"Come back, you'll regret this for the rest of your life!" Howard yelled at the other man's retreating back. "If not for us, do it for the crimp!"
The heavy rain obscured the view of his friend. The last protector of the crimp threw back his head and wailed a mournful "Nooooo(recurring)" up into the pouring heavens.
"What are you doing?"
"Vince! You came back!"
"Of course I did, I only went to go get us a couple of umbrellas. I got them both for a fiver, how cool is that? And they've got little crocodiles on." Smiling proudly, he handed over one of the umbrellas.
"Oh," Howard spoke up sheepishly, accepting it, even though umbrellas with little crocodiles – actually, from the looks of them they appeared to in fact be alligators – were not really his style.
"I've had an idea, about how to get them out here and talking to us," the electrogoth mused after a while, almost to himself. He received a sharply expectant look from his friend. "We've got to crimp them out of hiding."
"But Vince, you said you've lost your Crimping Juju! You said you'd never crimp again!"
There was an introspective nod. "I know, but things have changed Howard. Something inside me has changed. I've realised we've got something worth fighting for now, and like that old Cockney said, I never lost the Juju, it was inside me all along."
In a rush of relief and gratitude, Howard embraced his friend and was hugged in return. After a couple of seconds they quickly broke away, brushing themselves down and gruffly muttering manly encouraging things before shaking hands.
"Ready, little man?"
"Ready."
And so they crimped, they crimped like that had never crimped before. They crimped in a way that made the winning four-way crimp that night at the Velvet Onion look like a soggy Cornflake, even though it hadn't been a soggy cornflake at all – it had been a hardcore music revolution.
"Stealing, stealing, stealing is a no-no,
Lock up in the Monopoly Jail,
Oh no I lost Euston Hotel,
Shoe, shoe,
Better than the little dog, oh!
Law suitio, mercutio, in the little hotelio,
Sue, sue,
Law suitio, mercutio, in the little hotelio,
Shakespeare, shacked up,
To be or not to be, oh!
Honey Monster, no-no
Get backio! Backio!
On impulse, as the crimp drew to a close, Howard seized up the trombone skull of Joey Trombone and began to play. He played like a wild man, like he was possessed. The little Nemo-fish went in to orbit once more, this time disappearing over the horizon never to be seen again, except when it turned up later in an old Nana's fish and chip supper.
The crimp, combining with the ancient power locked up inside the musical skull forged together in a powerful explosion of creativity, unleashing justice upon the cold, grey building that housed the thieving monster within. The rain stopped suddenly, the sun bursting forth from the clouds to shine down upon the two chosen ones, drying up all the rain just like in that old nursery rhyme about an infamous spider.
Amidst the blooming of this miracle, Howard slowly lowered the instrument from his lips and stared into Vince's astonished eyes.
"What was that?" His friend breathed, rather awed by the whole experience.
"That's the power of the crimp, sir," Howard grinned back.
The 'moment' was interrupted by the Honey Monster bursting out of the glass doors of the building the two men had been trying to get into for the past God knows how long.
"What's going on?" The yellow creature roared in its terrifyingly deep voice, the fur around its usually kindly brown eyes bristling in anger.
Howard and Vince straightened up into superhero stances, sharing a melodramatic look of strength and triumph.
"We've come to take you to the cleaners, sir."
"Yeah, that's ri- Howard! He's getting away!"
There were a few seconds of dumbfounded non-action as the furry thief began his surprisingly fast, but lumbering getaway.
Finally getting his reactions in order, Howard unleashed a final blast on the legendary trombone. The little bit that comes out to change the sound of the different notes just about managed to strike the Honey Monster in the back of the head, knocking him flat onto his face on the pavement.
"I give up," the monster growled into the old chewing gum and concrete. "I give up, take your lawsuit money and leave me alone. I'm no match for the true creators of the crimp! I promise I'll never steal anything without permission and large royalty payments ever again, just don't unleash the Crimping Juju on me again!"
A crack team of lawyers instantly appeared on the scene, bearing official looking contracts that both parties were required to sign. The Honey Monster promised never to steal again, and all money from the increased sales was to be handed over to Howard and Vince. All was well in the Boosh universe once again. Even the Hitcher didn't turn up to demand all the Euros from the contract in payment for his help, as he had recently landed a major movie deal in Hollywood and didn't have the time for chasing up old debts.
So, as the old saying goes, everyone lived happily ever after… at least until crisis struck the following Tuesday, when one of Naboo's spells backfired and ripped a hole in the fabric of the space-time continuum, unleashing an evil pizza-maker with plans for world domination upon the Nabbotique and the immediate surrounding area. But that, as they say, is a whole other story.