The Mighty Boosh Halloween Special of Doom - Chapter 6
sorry for the wait, school's hit me like a breezeblock of pain
Title: The Mighty Boosh Halloween Special of Doom Chapter 6
Category: Collab (Howard/Vince)
Summary: Howard's landed himself in a bizarre world, desperately trying to remember how he got to the mirror world as he wanders the land, but he isn't alone for long...
Rating: G
Warnings: None really, some extremely mild sexual undertones but honestly, less than that in the episodes themselves :P
“Oof,” cried Howard as he fell to his knees painfully, his hands sprawling out before him to cushion the fall.
He lifted his head and his brown curls hung in his eyes, slightly damp with sweat. He pushed them aside with the back of one hand and pushed himself onto his knees, his heart racing. In that mirror before he’d ended up here, wherever ‘here’ was, it couldn’t have been… could it? Howard gave his head a shake and got to his feet slowly.
His palms and knees were covered in some kind of dust or powder from the light coloured earth beneath him, cracked like mud in a hot desert, but the colour of snow. He clapped his hands together to rid them of the fine powder and brushed off his cords. The sky was brilliantly blue, almost too blue, with not a single cloud in sight.
“Where am I?” he wondered aloud, looking all around him, but no matter which way he turned the view was the same. Well, except for the mirror protruding from the ground directly behind him.
Howard placed his hand against it tentatively, he didn’t want to go back, not to that deranged version of Vince, certainly not to the way it made him feel when they touched.
“But this is a dream,” he told himself firmly. “Just a stupid dream. Probably all the stress from the campaign.”
He pushed a little against the silver surface, but it was as solid as Nicky “Hot Tuba” Malone’s third and final jazz record. Howard sighed and set off walking in the first direction his feet took him.
He’d made tea for the two of them, that Howard did remember. He sat on the side of the bed while Vince changed into his pyjamas, not that he was paying attention to that, he was reading. Howard couldn’t remember what book it was. He could remember the light blue bottoms and white t-shirt Vince had worn, but the name of his book escaped him.
Howard vaguely wondered what time it was; how long he’d been walking. It was light, but he couldn’t see a sun in the endless blue sky.
Vince had snuggled down under the covers of the bed beside Howard, chattering away about his new cape and some vaguely famous American pop star he’d thought he’d caught a glimpse of in a coffee shop. Then he’d fallen asleep… no, he had to have done something before that. He’d gone somewhere…
Howard stopped in his tracks and snapped his fingers.
Vince, he’d said. Come on, get out from there, you’ve got to brush your teeth.
But Howard, Vince had whined in response. It’s so warm in here. And I’m comfy.
Vince, you’ve had about six sugars in your tea! Your teeth will rot if you don’t take care of them.
Aw, come on Howard, one night ain’t gonna hurt! Get in with me, it’s nice and toasty.
He’d drawn back the duvet on Howard’s side, his own body still completely covered in its warmth, and grinned up at him.
Dental hygiene is an important- Howard had started, but Vince sighed overdramatically and reluctantly gotten out of bed.
Fine, he’d said in exasperation. But you owe me for making me cold.
That was all he could remember. Vince had finished in the loo, and Howard had gone in to get changed into his pyjamas (he, unlike Vince, had some dignity left, thank you sir) and brush his teeth. He’d just finished brushing them when something in the mirror had caught his eye-
“Howard?”
Howard’s head snapped up at the sound of his name.
“Howard?”
“Vince?” he cried, peering into the distance and setting off at a run. “Vince?”
“Howard!”
There was a shape in front of Howard, coming into focus slowly as he sprinted towards it, “Vince? Vince, is that you?”
“Howard, where the hell are you?” Vince’s voice answered.
“Vince, I’m coming!” the image of the ornate mirror blossomed before him and Howard slowed his pace to a trot, his brows furrowed in confusion.
“Howard!” Vince exclaimed from far closer than he’d expected, and then something collided with him and thin arms were around his neck.
“Don’t touch me!” Howard said automatically.
“Howard, are you alright?” Vince asked, pulling back to inspect him, running fingers through his hair and tugging at his curls.
“What are you doing?” he demanded and swatted his hands away. “Get off.”
“Oh thank god you’re okay,” Vince sighed. “I thought you were… nevermind. You’re not hurt? Mr. Susan didn’t get to you?”
“Vince, I’m fine,” Howard assured him flippantly. “How did you even get here?”
“Same as you,” he said simply. “Through the mirror world. I mean, he broke all the mirrors in our room, but-”
“But this,” Howard gestured around them. “How’d you get here?”
“Come on, Howard,” he grinned. “There was one old, hideous mirror in the whole room. I could’ve guessed which one you’d stumbled through.”
“It’s probably a valuable antique,” Howard countered and puffed out his chest. “Worth a lot of money-”
“Oh, come off it, Howard,” Vince laughed, but his expression softened and he put a hand on his arm. “I found the right mirror, that’s the important bit.”
“But,” Howard’s brow creased again as he looked back at the mirror. “How did I find it again? I’ve been walking for hours!”
“I’ve told you!” he rolled his eyes. “If you’re where there ain’t any landmarks and you’ve got one leg shorter than the other-”
“Don’t you dare start knocking the pins, sir,” Howard warned. “Or I will come at you like a mighty harpoon! They call me harpoon Moon!”
“Alright, Moby Dick, take it easy,” Vince snorted.
“You know Moby Dick was the whale right?” Howard said. “Nevermind. Erm, Vince?”
“Yeah Howard?” he replied, both of their voices soft and uncertain.
“Um, when exactly were you in the mirror world?” He asked, looking at his feet.
“What d’you mean?” Vince replied, tilting his head to one side.
“I just-” he stuttered. “You weren’t there when- I mean, you didn’t see me at all did you?”
“Err,” Vince bit his thumb nervously, his other hand ruffling his hair. “No.”
Howard just nodded in response, shuffling his feet, “Oh. Right. What about…”
“Fossil?” Vince asked quietly and Howard finally looked up. “Yeah. I saw him too. Scary. He sounded all scared and… I dunno Howard, but it was well creepy.”
“Wait, Vince,” Howard said slowly. “What-?”
He reached out a hand and Vince flinched away.
“Don’t,” he whispered under his breath.
Howard held the piece of fabric buried in his soft black locks between his fingers gently and took a step closer to him.
“What is this?” He asked softly. “Vince, what happened? What did he do to you?”
“I don’t know,” Vince admitted. “One minute I was asleep and the next he was in the room with me, and you were gone and then he came at me and I stabbed him with my seam ripper and then… this happened.”
“But how?” Howard asked breathlessly.
“I don’t know,” he cried. “But I spent the last half hour doing this!”
Vince gestured to the sequined strips of fabric.
“They were hideous, Howard!” he whined, distinctly panicky. “All disgusting shades of mustard and brown and olive. Grimy bits of shammy and rags, there’s no way I could’ve ever pulled that off! Howard, it was horrible!”
“Hey little man, it’s alright,” Howard cooed, taking his hand. “The sequins look great.”
Vince gave him a weak smile, “Thanks Howard. Sorry I didn’t come looking for you sooner-”
“It’s alright,” Howard said again.
“What about Fossil? What are we gonna do, Howard? We’ve gotta help him.”
“But the mirror,” Howard argues. “We can’t back through it. How are we going to get out of here?”
Title: The Mighty Boosh Halloween Special of Doom Chapter 6
Category: Collab (Howard/Vince)
Summary: Howard's landed himself in a bizarre world, desperately trying to remember how he got to the mirror world as he wanders the land, but he isn't alone for long...
Rating: G
Warnings: None really, some extremely mild sexual undertones but honestly, less than that in the episodes themselves :P
“Oof,” cried Howard as he fell to his knees painfully, his hands sprawling out before him to cushion the fall.
He lifted his head and his brown curls hung in his eyes, slightly damp with sweat. He pushed them aside with the back of one hand and pushed himself onto his knees, his heart racing. In that mirror before he’d ended up here, wherever ‘here’ was, it couldn’t have been… could it? Howard gave his head a shake and got to his feet slowly.
His palms and knees were covered in some kind of dust or powder from the light coloured earth beneath him, cracked like mud in a hot desert, but the colour of snow. He clapped his hands together to rid them of the fine powder and brushed off his cords. The sky was brilliantly blue, almost too blue, with not a single cloud in sight.
“Where am I?” he wondered aloud, looking all around him, but no matter which way he turned the view was the same. Well, except for the mirror protruding from the ground directly behind him.
Howard placed his hand against it tentatively, he didn’t want to go back, not to that deranged version of Vince, certainly not to the way it made him feel when they touched.
“But this is a dream,” he told himself firmly. “Just a stupid dream. Probably all the stress from the campaign.”
He pushed a little against the silver surface, but it was as solid as Nicky “Hot Tuba” Malone’s third and final jazz record. Howard sighed and set off walking in the first direction his feet took him.
He’d made tea for the two of them, that Howard did remember. He sat on the side of the bed while Vince changed into his pyjamas, not that he was paying attention to that, he was reading. Howard couldn’t remember what book it was. He could remember the light blue bottoms and white t-shirt Vince had worn, but the name of his book escaped him.
Howard vaguely wondered what time it was; how long he’d been walking. It was light, but he couldn’t see a sun in the endless blue sky.
Vince had snuggled down under the covers of the bed beside Howard, chattering away about his new cape and some vaguely famous American pop star he’d thought he’d caught a glimpse of in a coffee shop. Then he’d fallen asleep… no, he had to have done something before that. He’d gone somewhere…
Howard stopped in his tracks and snapped his fingers.
Vince, he’d said. Come on, get out from there, you’ve got to brush your teeth.
But Howard, Vince had whined in response. It’s so warm in here. And I’m comfy.
Vince, you’ve had about six sugars in your tea! Your teeth will rot if you don’t take care of them.
Aw, come on Howard, one night ain’t gonna hurt! Get in with me, it’s nice and toasty.
He’d drawn back the duvet on Howard’s side, his own body still completely covered in its warmth, and grinned up at him.
Dental hygiene is an important- Howard had started, but Vince sighed overdramatically and reluctantly gotten out of bed.
Fine, he’d said in exasperation. But you owe me for making me cold.
That was all he could remember. Vince had finished in the loo, and Howard had gone in to get changed into his pyjamas (he, unlike Vince, had some dignity left, thank you sir) and brush his teeth. He’d just finished brushing them when something in the mirror had caught his eye-
“Howard?”
Howard’s head snapped up at the sound of his name.
“Howard?”
“Vince?” he cried, peering into the distance and setting off at a run. “Vince?”
“Howard!”
There was a shape in front of Howard, coming into focus slowly as he sprinted towards it, “Vince? Vince, is that you?”
“Howard, where the hell are you?” Vince’s voice answered.
“Vince, I’m coming!” the image of the ornate mirror blossomed before him and Howard slowed his pace to a trot, his brows furrowed in confusion.
“Howard!” Vince exclaimed from far closer than he’d expected, and then something collided with him and thin arms were around his neck.
“Don’t touch me!” Howard said automatically.
“Howard, are you alright?” Vince asked, pulling back to inspect him, running fingers through his hair and tugging at his curls.
“What are you doing?” he demanded and swatted his hands away. “Get off.”
“Oh thank god you’re okay,” Vince sighed. “I thought you were… nevermind. You’re not hurt? Mr. Susan didn’t get to you?”
“Vince, I’m fine,” Howard assured him flippantly. “How did you even get here?”
“Same as you,” he said simply. “Through the mirror world. I mean, he broke all the mirrors in our room, but-”
“But this,” Howard gestured around them. “How’d you get here?”
“Come on, Howard,” he grinned. “There was one old, hideous mirror in the whole room. I could’ve guessed which one you’d stumbled through.”
“It’s probably a valuable antique,” Howard countered and puffed out his chest. “Worth a lot of money-”
“Oh, come off it, Howard,” Vince laughed, but his expression softened and he put a hand on his arm. “I found the right mirror, that’s the important bit.”
“But,” Howard’s brow creased again as he looked back at the mirror. “How did I find it again? I’ve been walking for hours!”
“I’ve told you!” he rolled his eyes. “If you’re where there ain’t any landmarks and you’ve got one leg shorter than the other-”
“Don’t you dare start knocking the pins, sir,” Howard warned. “Or I will come at you like a mighty harpoon! They call me harpoon Moon!”
“Alright, Moby Dick, take it easy,” Vince snorted.
“You know Moby Dick was the whale right?” Howard said. “Nevermind. Erm, Vince?”
“Yeah Howard?” he replied, both of their voices soft and uncertain.
“Um, when exactly were you in the mirror world?” He asked, looking at his feet.
“What d’you mean?” Vince replied, tilting his head to one side.
“I just-” he stuttered. “You weren’t there when- I mean, you didn’t see me at all did you?”
“Err,” Vince bit his thumb nervously, his other hand ruffling his hair. “No.”
Howard just nodded in response, shuffling his feet, “Oh. Right. What about…”
“Fossil?” Vince asked quietly and Howard finally looked up. “Yeah. I saw him too. Scary. He sounded all scared and… I dunno Howard, but it was well creepy.”
“Wait, Vince,” Howard said slowly. “What-?”
He reached out a hand and Vince flinched away.
“Don’t,” he whispered under his breath.
Howard held the piece of fabric buried in his soft black locks between his fingers gently and took a step closer to him.
“What is this?” He asked softly. “Vince, what happened? What did he do to you?”
“I don’t know,” Vince admitted. “One minute I was asleep and the next he was in the room with me, and you were gone and then he came at me and I stabbed him with my seam ripper and then… this happened.”
“But how?” Howard asked breathlessly.
“I don’t know,” he cried. “But I spent the last half hour doing this!”
Vince gestured to the sequined strips of fabric.
“They were hideous, Howard!” he whined, distinctly panicky. “All disgusting shades of mustard and brown and olive. Grimy bits of shammy and rags, there’s no way I could’ve ever pulled that off! Howard, it was horrible!”
“Hey little man, it’s alright,” Howard cooed, taking his hand. “The sequins look great.”
Vince gave him a weak smile, “Thanks Howard. Sorry I didn’t come looking for you sooner-”
“It’s alright,” Howard said again.
“What about Fossil? What are we gonna do, Howard? We’ve gotta help him.”
“But the mirror,” Howard argues. “We can’t back through it. How are we going to get out of here?”