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booshslashhavenTitle: The Mighty Boosh 2013 Halloween Special of Doom, Part One: It Was A Dark And Stormy Night
Summary: Howard thinks he’s being haunted. Or something
Rating: PG for a teensy bit of sweariness
Warnings: none
Spoilers: none, cos that would spoil it
Length: about 1260 words
Disclaimer: The Boosh, sadly, do not belong to me. I just like to appropriate their characters from time to time for non-profitable and purely personal amusement
Notes: Aaaaand... over to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
castie67 for Part Two!
‘...It was a dark and stormy night.’
‘Of course it was, ya Northern berk. This wouldn’t be a proper Hallowe’en story if it wasn’t. Dark and stormy nights are well spooky. Dark and windless nights are, well, just dark.’
‘Shut up, Vince. Who’s telling this story, eh?’
‘We are.’
‘No, I am. I thought we agreed. I do the narration, set the scene. You appear in the flashbacks later on in the show. OK? Sorry about that, ladies and gentlemen. It was a dark –’
‘So what am I supposed to do while you’re narrating? Something like this?’
‘No. Put the lights back on, I can’t see what I’m – Ouch. Help me back onto the stage, you tit. Stop laughing... I said lights, you idiot. Blow that candle out.’
‘Why? It’s spookily atmospheric.’
‘It’s a safety hazard. Blow it out right now, sir, or I’ll come at you.’
‘Like a blind bat?’
‘Bats aren’t blind, Vince, you know that.’
‘But if a bat was blind, it wouldn’t be able to see. Like you wouldn’t be able to see if I blew this candle out.’
‘I’d use my other senses to come at you.’
‘That sounds a bit wrong, y’know, Howard.’
‘Stop trying to distract me with your wrongness, sir. Just... stop.’
‘I haven’t started.’
‘Neither has the show, thanks to you.’
‘It wasn’t me who stopped telling the story.’
‘Vince, why don’t you go and... sort your hair out or whatever it is you do, then you’ll be looking fabulous by the time it’s time for you to be in the flashback part, yeah?’
‘What d’you mean, I’ll be looking fabulous? I always look fabulous.’
‘I meant, you’ll be looking even more fabulous. Scarily fabulous, in fact. The star of the show... if we ever get to do the show...’
‘What was that last bit, Howard?’
‘Never mind. Just go and get the straighteners. You’ve only got five minutes... OK. Welcome to the show. I’m Howard Moon, and my assistant Vince Noir has just left the stage. Tonight, since it’s Hallowe’en, we’re telling a haunting tale – that’s one of mine, ha, ha – yes, a story of terrifying supernatural events that happened right here in the Zooniverse on this very night, three years ago. It was a dark and stormy night...’
[CUE OPENING TITLES]
It was a dark and stormy night. And despite the rain, Vince’s hair was looking scarily fabulous. Vince remembers it quite well, considering it was three whole years ago and a lot of other weird stuff has happened to him and Howard since.
Howard was sitting at the table in the keepers’ hut when Vince came in from putting the raincovers over the chinchilla hutches and handing out umbrellas to the baboons.
‘Have you seen my pencil?’ Howard asked, his small eyes boring accusingly into Vince.
‘Evenin’ Howard, it’s nice to see you too.’ Vince took off his soaked raincoat and hung it up behind the door. He briefly considered dumping it in a soggy heap on the rug, just to annoy Howard, but Howard already seemed pretty annoyed, so annoying him more would probably be pointless. ‘What pencil?’
‘My writing pencil, Vince, the one I was using this morning, to write with.’
Vince shrugged, and went over to the mirror to reassure himself that his hair hadn’t shrunk in the rain or anything. ‘Can’t you just use a biro instead?’ he asked, tilting his head this way and that to make sure that both sides were still his best side. ‘Or another pencil?’
‘No. I’m a serious writer, Vince. I need my serious writing pencil.’
‘Oh, you mean the blue one with the rubber on the end?’ Vince giggled, turned round and winked saucily at Howard. ‘Sounds a bit wrong, that.’
‘The blue one with the eraser on the end, yes, Vince.’ Howard glared at him.
‘An’ your name on it in gold capital letters?’
‘Yes. What have you done with it?’
‘I haven’t done anything with it. Honest, Howard, I haven’t. Stop lookin’ at me all suspicious with those little shrimpy peepers. What would I want a pencil for?’
‘I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. I just want my pencil back.’
Vince sighed, and put his comb back in his jacket pocket. ‘For the last time, I haven’t got your pencil... Thought you had a typewriter, anyway.’
‘I do, but...’ Howard glanced shiftily at the typewriter on the table right in front of him. ‘It’s... not working.’
‘Well, don’t look at me like that, I haven’t touched it.’ Vince skipped over to the table. ‘It don’t look broken. I bet it works fine.’
He reached out a finger to press a random key, but Howard yelled ‘Don’t touch it!’ and grabbed his wrist, so hard it hurt.
There was a sharp ‘clack’ from the typewriter, even though Vince knew he hadn’t touched it.
Vince was too shocked to say anything; he just stared at Howard.
The typewriter typed another letter.
Then another.
Howard was shaking. Even his moustache was quivering.
The slow, too-loud clacking of the typewriter continued.
Vince prised his wrist free of Howard’s clutching fingers and sat down heavily on the nearest chair.
CLACK... CLACK... CLACK... TAP... PING!
Silence.
‘Wh – what the fuck was that all about?’ Vince squeaked. ‘Thought you said it wasn’t working!’
‘Well, it isn’t working. Not normally. It’s never done that before... before t-today.’ Howard’s teeth were chattering. ‘But when I came back from Fossil’s office this afternoon –’
‘What were you doin’ in Fossil’s office?’
‘Never mind that,’ Howard said hastily, ‘the point is, before I went there, I’d made some notes and I’d just put a clean sheet of paper in the t-typewriter to type them up, and when I did come back, my pencil had gone, and there was something typed on the paper. As I reached over to take the paper out, it st – started again. It’s been doing it every time I’ve t-tried to touch it.’
‘D’you think you’re bein’ haunted?’ Vince asked. ‘You know, like you haunted me when you were dead an’ in Limbo?’
Howard wrapped his arms protectively around himself. ‘I don’t know. I d-don’t really want to think about that. It wasn’t a good time for me.’
‘Nor me neither. But I don’t remember it bein’ so scary, bein’ haunted by you. P’raps just because it was you. Or p’raps you’re just crap at bein’ a ghost.’
‘Thank you very much, Vince.’
‘No, I didn’t mean –’ Vince wondered if it would help, if he went over and wrapped his own arms protectively around Howard too. This was something he’d been wondering about a good deal lately, but he wasn’t sure that now would be a good time to try it. ‘Never mind. Have you seen anythin’ that might be a ghost, today?’
‘No. Whatever’s doing this, it’s invisible. S-sending invisible messages of doom from beyond the grave...’
‘Why, is that what it’s been typing?’
‘I don’t know. I d-didn’t want to look. I have a feeling it’s something I d-don’t need to see.’
‘You were probably right,’ Vince said, leaning over and peering at the paper, careful not to touch it or even breathe on it.
‘Why, what does it say?’
‘Hang on, I’m tryin’ to make it out.’ The letters were wonky and faded; Howard evidently hadn’t put a new ribbon in the machine in ages. ‘It says... AAAAAGHHHH!’
Vince shrieked and leapt backwards onto the sofa as the typewriter whirred angrily and spat out the paper onto the table.
‘No, it doesn’t,’ Howard said, ‘it says:
Summary: Howard thinks he’s being haunted. Or something
Rating: PG for a teensy bit of sweariness
Warnings: none
Spoilers: none, cos that would spoil it
Length: about 1260 words
Disclaimer: The Boosh, sadly, do not belong to me. I just like to appropriate their characters from time to time for non-profitable and purely personal amusement
Notes: Aaaaand... over to
castie67 for Part Two!‘...It was a dark and stormy night.’
‘Of course it was, ya Northern berk. This wouldn’t be a proper Hallowe’en story if it wasn’t. Dark and stormy nights are well spooky. Dark and windless nights are, well, just dark.’
‘Shut up, Vince. Who’s telling this story, eh?’
‘We are.’
‘No, I am. I thought we agreed. I do the narration, set the scene. You appear in the flashbacks later on in the show. OK? Sorry about that, ladies and gentlemen. It was a dark –’
‘So what am I supposed to do while you’re narrating? Something like this?’
‘No. Put the lights back on, I can’t see what I’m – Ouch. Help me back onto the stage, you tit. Stop laughing... I said lights, you idiot. Blow that candle out.’
‘Why? It’s spookily atmospheric.’
‘It’s a safety hazard. Blow it out right now, sir, or I’ll come at you.’
‘Like a blind bat?’
‘Bats aren’t blind, Vince, you know that.’
‘But if a bat was blind, it wouldn’t be able to see. Like you wouldn’t be able to see if I blew this candle out.’
‘I’d use my other senses to come at you.’
‘That sounds a bit wrong, y’know, Howard.’
‘Stop trying to distract me with your wrongness, sir. Just... stop.’
‘I haven’t started.’
‘Neither has the show, thanks to you.’
‘It wasn’t me who stopped telling the story.’
‘Vince, why don’t you go and... sort your hair out or whatever it is you do, then you’ll be looking fabulous by the time it’s time for you to be in the flashback part, yeah?’
‘What d’you mean, I’ll be looking fabulous? I always look fabulous.’
‘I meant, you’ll be looking even more fabulous. Scarily fabulous, in fact. The star of the show... if we ever get to do the show...’
‘What was that last bit, Howard?’
‘Never mind. Just go and get the straighteners. You’ve only got five minutes... OK. Welcome to the show. I’m Howard Moon, and my assistant Vince Noir has just left the stage. Tonight, since it’s Hallowe’en, we’re telling a haunting tale – that’s one of mine, ha, ha – yes, a story of terrifying supernatural events that happened right here in the Zooniverse on this very night, three years ago. It was a dark and stormy night...’
[CUE OPENING TITLES]
It was a dark and stormy night. And despite the rain, Vince’s hair was looking scarily fabulous. Vince remembers it quite well, considering it was three whole years ago and a lot of other weird stuff has happened to him and Howard since.
Howard was sitting at the table in the keepers’ hut when Vince came in from putting the raincovers over the chinchilla hutches and handing out umbrellas to the baboons.
‘Have you seen my pencil?’ Howard asked, his small eyes boring accusingly into Vince.
‘Evenin’ Howard, it’s nice to see you too.’ Vince took off his soaked raincoat and hung it up behind the door. He briefly considered dumping it in a soggy heap on the rug, just to annoy Howard, but Howard already seemed pretty annoyed, so annoying him more would probably be pointless. ‘What pencil?’
‘My writing pencil, Vince, the one I was using this morning, to write with.’
Vince shrugged, and went over to the mirror to reassure himself that his hair hadn’t shrunk in the rain or anything. ‘Can’t you just use a biro instead?’ he asked, tilting his head this way and that to make sure that both sides were still his best side. ‘Or another pencil?’
‘No. I’m a serious writer, Vince. I need my serious writing pencil.’
‘Oh, you mean the blue one with the rubber on the end?’ Vince giggled, turned round and winked saucily at Howard. ‘Sounds a bit wrong, that.’
‘The blue one with the eraser on the end, yes, Vince.’ Howard glared at him.
‘An’ your name on it in gold capital letters?’
‘Yes. What have you done with it?’
‘I haven’t done anything with it. Honest, Howard, I haven’t. Stop lookin’ at me all suspicious with those little shrimpy peepers. What would I want a pencil for?’
‘I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. I just want my pencil back.’
Vince sighed, and put his comb back in his jacket pocket. ‘For the last time, I haven’t got your pencil... Thought you had a typewriter, anyway.’
‘I do, but...’ Howard glanced shiftily at the typewriter on the table right in front of him. ‘It’s... not working.’
‘Well, don’t look at me like that, I haven’t touched it.’ Vince skipped over to the table. ‘It don’t look broken. I bet it works fine.’
He reached out a finger to press a random key, but Howard yelled ‘Don’t touch it!’ and grabbed his wrist, so hard it hurt.
There was a sharp ‘clack’ from the typewriter, even though Vince knew he hadn’t touched it.
Vince was too shocked to say anything; he just stared at Howard.
The typewriter typed another letter.
Then another.
Howard was shaking. Even his moustache was quivering.
The slow, too-loud clacking of the typewriter continued.
Vince prised his wrist free of Howard’s clutching fingers and sat down heavily on the nearest chair.
CLACK... CLACK... CLACK... TAP... PING!
Silence.
‘Wh – what the fuck was that all about?’ Vince squeaked. ‘Thought you said it wasn’t working!’
‘Well, it isn’t working. Not normally. It’s never done that before... before t-today.’ Howard’s teeth were chattering. ‘But when I came back from Fossil’s office this afternoon –’
‘What were you doin’ in Fossil’s office?’
‘Never mind that,’ Howard said hastily, ‘the point is, before I went there, I’d made some notes and I’d just put a clean sheet of paper in the t-typewriter to type them up, and when I did come back, my pencil had gone, and there was something typed on the paper. As I reached over to take the paper out, it st – started again. It’s been doing it every time I’ve t-tried to touch it.’
‘D’you think you’re bein’ haunted?’ Vince asked. ‘You know, like you haunted me when you were dead an’ in Limbo?’
Howard wrapped his arms protectively around himself. ‘I don’t know. I d-don’t really want to think about that. It wasn’t a good time for me.’
‘Nor me neither. But I don’t remember it bein’ so scary, bein’ haunted by you. P’raps just because it was you. Or p’raps you’re just crap at bein’ a ghost.’
‘Thank you very much, Vince.’
‘No, I didn’t mean –’ Vince wondered if it would help, if he went over and wrapped his own arms protectively around Howard too. This was something he’d been wondering about a good deal lately, but he wasn’t sure that now would be a good time to try it. ‘Never mind. Have you seen anythin’ that might be a ghost, today?’
‘No. Whatever’s doing this, it’s invisible. S-sending invisible messages of doom from beyond the grave...’
‘Why, is that what it’s been typing?’
‘I don’t know. I d-didn’t want to look. I have a feeling it’s something I d-don’t need to see.’
‘You were probably right,’ Vince said, leaning over and peering at the paper, careful not to touch it or even breathe on it.
‘Why, what does it say?’
‘Hang on, I’m tryin’ to make it out.’ The letters were wonky and faded; Howard evidently hadn’t put a new ribbon in the machine in ages. ‘It says... AAAAAGHHHH!’
Vince shrieked and leapt backwards onto the sofa as the typewriter whirred angrily and spat out the paper onto the table.
‘No, it doesn’t,’ Howard said, ‘it says:
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no subject
Date: 2013-10-29 09:43 am (UTC)I can't wait to see what's written on the paper... ;)
no subject
Date: 2013-10-29 12:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-10-29 10:09 pm (UTC)Oh, Vince. He can always be relied on to start mischief.
no subject
Date: 2013-10-29 10:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-10-29 10:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-10-29 11:12 am (UTC)This is such a fantastic atmosphere - m'getting shivers. I loved the little bits of banter and Vince being all saucy and the curtain scene at the beginning. And there are so many mysteries set up and so many potential avenues...this is going to be a good one!
no subject
Date: 2013-10-29 12:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-10-29 11:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-10-29 12:13 pm (UTC)Although I confess I did try to write the next story-chunk too (I'll be interested to see how well my foil helmet is working!) but the cliffhanger it finished on just wasn't as cliffhangery as not knowing what the typewriter had typed, so I ruthlessly ditched an entire scene even though it contained at least one quite good joke (don't worry, it will be recycled in due course) and left you with some more open-ended open ends to weave together as you see fit.
Can't wait to see what you come up with!
no subject
Date: 2013-10-29 12:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-10-29 04:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-10-29 04:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-01 09:40 am (UTC)