Here we go, just a little short one to finish it. I know it's not what people have been asking for, but I've had this planned for a fair while, and it makes a lot of sense. And I know there's no justice, but fairy tales are cruel.

And here's a public apology to everyone I haven't reviewed yet. Sorry- I'm spending most of the week with mi girl Katie, who is legend, and has just got into the Boosh. Last night we put on Boosh Live and had tacos and rice krispie cakes. Twas a lovely evening. But I will review you all, promise.

Also, I'm thinking of doing the sequel to Booshy Horror, but it'll probably be a while, as it will require major minor character casting.

The vehicle rumbled incessantly, making Vince's entire body vibrate with it.

But he didn't care.

His life was over.

Whatever this thing was, this ugly flying contraption, he'd never seen one before. He didn't even know they existed. And now he was on one, and he wouldn't be for much longer, because they'd taken away everything.

He'd been held under house arrest for weeks after they found him with the corpse; his parents had paid for him to avoid the cells in order to try and hush it all up. He didn't know why they'd bothered. They knew he'd be found guilty in the end. He had been caught in the act, for god's sake.

They'd kept him close, but only for reputation's sake. His engagement was called off and his parents refused to speak to him, or even to come near him. He felt unwelcome at family meals, so he kept to his room. On one of the few occasions he ventured out, he'd heard his thirteen-year-old cousin Sandrine tormenting some of the young children. "He actually cut off a face," she'd been saying. "When your parents tell you it's not real, it is. It's him they're trying to protect."

Sandrine was getting to be a bit of a sadist. Weren't they all? He was; why shouldn't she?

He wished they had protected him. It would be unfair and unjust, but he wished they had. But he supposed he'd gotten what he deserved.

There had been a trial. It had been short and pointless, his defence only there out of custom.

His family had disowned him.

He had been sentenced to exile.

Everything was still at first. And then the rumbling started.

At first Howard was a little afraid. He had never felt or heard this before. When his mind got past the initial shock and started thinking of ideas, his first thought was that perhaps a new fissure was opening in the ice, something rare that might not have happened for hundreds of years, hence him having never experienced it.

But he looked across at the level plane, and there was nothing.

And then it appeared. One of those things. He didn't know what they were, but it was one of those that had brought him here all those years ago. Perhaps, it seemed, someone else had come to share his fate.

He saw a small figure being shoved as he had been from the open door, as the thing moved steadily on without stopping. He came forward, but before he could reach this person and offer assistance, the little figure got to his feet.

He looked around, enthralled. Howard was still fairly far from him, so he could see this little man, but the man seemed not to have noticed him. He was gazing around with an enthralled look on his face. Howard traced his gaze from the gleaming sheen of the icy ground to the rolling white dunes all the way up the smooth columns to the circling purple vapour in the white sky. He heard the man laugh. It rang, muffled yet clear, across the plain, so unbelievably strange in its joyfulness. And then the small man spun around, almost dancing, still smiling and laughing in joy, before he slipped on the ice and fell flat on his arse.

Howard laughed, meaning to do so only to himself, but doing it a little louder than he had meant to. The man looked up and noticed him, and he approached, hand extended.

"Hello," he said as the man took his hand and allowed Howard to help him up.

"Hi," the small man replied, and Howard smiled at his informality with a stranger. He looked around again, his eyes, which Howard noticed were unusually large and a light shade of blue that reminded him of the sky somewhere else, taking in every tiny detail. "Where are we?"

"God only knows," Howard answered.

The man giggled. "You should call it that," he said "'God Only Knows'."

Howard couldn't help but laugh with him.

The little man was looking around again, attention unfaltering. "It's beautiful," he said, voice much quieter, with a tone of what could have been awe.

Howard smiled. "You get used to it."

"That must take a long time," the small man sighed, looking not at Howard but still staring at the landscape. He turned his head to Howard. "I'm sorry, how long have you been here?"

But before Howard could even open his mouth, he was interrupted.

"No, no, I'm sorry, who are you?"

The man looked a little sheepish. Howard just smiled, finding him quite cute in a childlike sort of way.

"I'm Howard Moon, and I've been here nine years," he answered. "And yourself?"

The man smiled, and not as happily as he had seemed moments before. "I'm Princess Vince Noir," was his answer.

"Princess?" Howard asked.

"Yes," replied this Vince. "Why?"

Howard looked him up and down. "It's just… you're a bit of a boy, aren't you."

Vince's buglike eyes were now fixed solely on Howard. Howard found it more than a little creepy.

"You can tell?" Vince asked.

Howard eyed him up a little more. "Well, yeah. You haven't got any tits."

Howard stared as a huge, shyish sort of grin, a paradox if there ever was one, spread across Vince's face. Then he started to laugh, laugh like a loon. Which Howard began to suspect he might be.

"Oh my god!" Vince was crying out. "Oh my god, it's you!"

"What's me?" Howard asked, inching away slowly.

"He knew all along!" Vince laughed, his eyes starting to water and his face to go ruddy in the chilly air. "He set it all up! It was you I've been meant to find!"

Howard wished he had backed away quicker when this strange creature threw his arms around him and squeezed him more tightly than Howard would have thought him capable of. Unable to pry this skinny little limpet off him, Howard decided to try the diplomatic approach.

"Okay, who… what are you on about?"

Vince gave him no answer. He just buried his face in Howard's coat. Howard thought he heard sniffling, and he wondered if his odd new companion might be crying. So he said nothing and tried his best to hold him comfortingly.

After a moment, Vince lifted his head. "Can I love you?" he asked, almost a whisper.

"What?"

"I love you," Vince repeated. "Is that okay?"

Howard just held him closer and rubbed a hand on his shoulder. He didn't know what Vince had gone through to get him exiled, but it seemed to have affected him a lot. Perhaps he was distressed, perhaps he was confused, or maybe he was just too nervous to make himself understood clearly. Seeing only one possible solution, Howard released his hold on him and turned him in the direction of home.

"Give it time," he said, "and we'll see."

And so, in the end, they lived happily ever after.