A/N: I am really getting good at these middle-of-the-night updates, aren't I? I think this is the third or fourth one now. I felt that it needed doing, so I did it. If only I was that productive with everything else. Anyway, my writing habits aside, I hope this will be a good one for you. It's longer than I was expecting, but not much really happens. So it's a bit weird in that respect. Stuff will start actually happening next chapter, I think. But hopefully this one's not bad either :)

Disclaimer: I owneth not the Mightiest of Booshes, for I am but a humble peasant. (Shakespearean disclaimers are the future, trust me)

Howard's POV

The next morning, two letters dropped through the door. One was junk mail, which I threw into the bin immediately. I opened the other one, although I already knew what it was. An eviction notice. I sighed and went to find Naboo. He was sitting on the sofa with Bollo, smoking his hookah. Silently, I handed him the letter. He read it over quickly and passed it to Bollo.

"So." He said. "Have you two got somewhere to go?"

"Yeah, one of Vince's old student mates is gonna let us stay with her. It sounds a bit weird, but I think we'll be okay. Are you coming with us?"

"Nah, we're gonna go stay with the shamans again. We'll just 'ave to put up with them."

"Well, we've got five days."

"That's not long, is it?"

"No, not really. Vince and I will probably go today. We've got to go and put some stuff into storage first, so we'll take the van."

"Fine. We've got the carpet."

"Is there anything of yours you want putting into storage?"

"No, we'll be alright, won't we Bollo?" Bollo grunted noncommittally. He was still reading the letter carefully.

"Repo man will come in five days." He muttered.

"I know, Bollo. We're gonna stay 'ere and deal with him, and then we'll go." He turned back to me. "You ought to get ready. Wake Vince up and send 'im in here. I want to talk to 'im." I nodded and walked back into the bedroom, where Vince was asleep, face down in the pillow. I prodded his arm gently, then a bit harder. He moaned and turned his head on the pillow so he was facing me, then opened his eyes.

"What d'you want?" he mumbled.

"We've had our eviction notice, and we have to leave today. Naboo wants to speak to you." He sighed and sat up.

"Where is he?"

"On the sofa. Don't breathe too deeply; he's smoking something weird again."

"I won't." He walked out unsteadily, clearly still tired. I watched as he went over to sit with Naboo, but a moment later, Bollo came over to close the door. I was wary of that, but I left it and started to pack my things into an old brown suitcase, almost squashing my trusty hat in the process. I considered putting it into storage, but in the end I gave up and put it on. Then I started collecting all the rubbish into bags, and putting anything that needed storing into cardboard boxes. The last thing I picked up was my collection of rare jazz LP's. I wanted to take it with me so much. Jazz was often the only thing that kept me sane when trying to deal with Vince and his tantrums. But I knew I was going to be around arty people who wouldn't see jazz as an acceptable music genre. I wanted to not care, but I knew that if I took the records with me, they would probably get smashed to bits. With a forlorn sigh, I put it in a cardboard box and sealed it carefully. Vince then walked in wearing nothing but his pants- Again.

"Vince, why are you in your underwear?" I asked.

"Oh, I had a shower. Forgot to take any other clothes in with me." He replied.

"Right. Well, get dressed. I'll start putting your stuff in boxes if you like."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks." I got to work, picking up the heaps that had been scattered slightly since the night before and boxing them up. I picked up the mirrorball suit and said:

"You aren't taking this with you?" He turned to look.

"Oh. No, I'm not. I think I'll be better off if I just blend in a bit more now."

"Oh, alright. Never mind, you'll get it back, won't you?"

"Mm." I left him to put his boots on and started putting his rubbish into bags. It was a solemn affair, and none of us spoke for a while, except when he asked me to move so he could get his purple suitcase out from under the bed. But when the room was emptied of all the clutter I'd come to know and love, I said:

"God, it feels weird in here now."

"It feels like no one's ever been here. I don't like it." Vince whispered.

"Don't worry, Vince. Y'know, nothing lasts forever, we'll find somewhere else."

"That's what Naboo said. Nothing lasts forever." My curiosity was piqued.

"What else did he say?"

"I dunno, really. A lot of it didn't make sense. He kept telling me things like, 'Stay yourself, no matter what happens', and 'Sometimes you should ignore the truth because it's better to live a lie than to die'."

"Oh. Morbid."

"I don't know, Howard. Maybe he's finally goin' around the bend."

"Maybe. Come on, we need to pack this lot into the van." I looked around at the multitude of boxes. There were nine, meaning it would take us at least four trips to take them all. Vince nodded and picked one up, and I took another. We headed down the stairs, out the front door, and down the road to where the van was parked in the communal garages. I then drove it around to the front of the shop as Vince went to get another box. After half an hour, we had put all the rubbish out, packed all the boxes, and we had our suitcases in our hands, ready to leave for good. We stopped to say goodbye to Naboo and Bollo. I shook them both by the hand, trying not to wince at Bollo's iron grip. Vince hugged them both, and I saw him hide his head as tears ran down his cheeks. I heard Naboo mutter:

"Remember what I told you, Vince. Stay safe."

"I will, Naboolio. I will. I'm gonna miss you."

"Yeah. I'll miss you too." Eventually, Vince reluctantly detached himself from the shaman, and we walked out of the flat. When we got to the van, we put our suitcases in the back, and I hugged Vince, not letting my fear of touch stop me. Vince needed comfort, and I was going to give it, regardless of what my mind thought about that.

"It's alright, Vince. It's okay." I said softly.

"No it isn't." He replied. "I'm never gonna see Naboo or Bollo again. No more magic carpets or gorilla hugs or being called ballbags."

"We'll see them again, Vince. Just wait and see." He pulled away from me.

"I hope you're right, Howard. I need you to be right." We got into the van, and he fell silent immediately. I sighed, started the engine, and drove away from our home.

The storage centre was only about ten minutes away from the flat. I parked up near the garage-like building, got out my keys, and opened the door. Inside were all my old boxes of miscellany and musical instruments I didn't dare use anymore. Vince decided to have a look around straight away. He found a pair of sunglasses that were so big he looked like an insect when he put them on.

"Howard, why do you even own these?"

"Vince, the reason everything is in here is because I realised it was useless but I didn't want to throw it away."

"Oh. Are you gonna salvage any of it?"

"I don't think so. There's not a lot worth salvaging, apart from the odd jazz record."

"Oh. Come on, then. Let's get the boxes in here."

"Yeah. You might want to take my sunglasses off first." He removed them, placing them on top of an old bookcase that I'd shoved in here. It didn't take us as long to unpack the boxes from the van as it had to get them in there, and we were soon back on the road. The address we were heading for was nearer to the centre of London. Finally, we arrived at a huge, grey building, and I parked the van behind what I hoped would become a home for us both.

Three word description of their new home sucks, don't it? It's okay, there'll be more. Reviews are the bestest :)