Fic.

[thymeth.livejournal.com]

TITLE: There's Some Bad Ju-Ju Going Down Here.
AUTHOR: Astrid.
PAIRING: Noel/Julian.
RATING: PG-13 for language and violence.
WARNINGS: Slash, het, a tiny bit of swearing, people getting killed.
SUMMARY: Noel's shaved Julian's moustache off and Julian's turned evil and goes around killing people.
DISCLAIMER: This is fanfic.
NOTES: This is the longest fanfic I've ever written, just below 18'000 words (which scares me ever so slightly). So it's in two parts.
It's inspired by a range of different things, several of which I've forgotten now (because I started this thing in December). Among the things I remember there's alchemywow's story about SuperBarratt and Casper the ghost (here), the line "The cabinet of Dr. Pettifer. Or, wait... Dr. Barratt. Sometimes he can't keep up with his own name changes" from tartpants's vampire fic (here), every fic in which Russell Brand doesn't die because they make me want to kill him even more, but most of all moribundlust's essay on Julian and his moustache over at julianbarratt (here). Also, the Soccer AM interview with Julian and Noel back in November, where Julian didn't have a moustache. (Pictures here, here and here.)
And a huge thanks to lo0o0ony_lauren for brilliant beta.



There's Some Bad Ju-Ju Going Down Here.
Part 1.


The reason Noel Fielding prefers kissing women is that they don't have moustaches. Noel Fielding likes kissing Julian Barratt too, except that Julian Barratt has a moustache. So one night, Noel Fielding decided to shave Julian Barratt's moustache off. This is the story of what happened next.


*


Noel opened his eyes that morning and grinned. Julian without a moustache. How brilliant!

He almost jumped out of bed, much more energetic than usual, and pulled on Dee's pyjama trousers. They were a bit small, but because they were pink and shiny he loved them and wore them as often as he could. (When she wasn't at home, obviously. They did share clothes now and again, but for some reason he was pretty sure she wouldn't like him wearing her pyjama trousers. Especially like now, when he wasn't wearing any underwear.)

He padded to the kitchen, expecting to find Julian sitting slumped by the window reading the newspaper, drinking tea and stroking his soft new face.

But there was no Julian in the kitchen.

"Julian?" Noel called softly. They hadn't played hide-and-seek in ages; Julian thought they were too old for that nowadays. He had grown so dull these last few years. Maybe getting rid of that silly moustache had made him feel younger and more frisky?

Noel crept into the sitting room, carefully scanning the room for any movement. But there was none. The room was just as they had left it last night: papers and scribbled notes everywhere, candles burnt down to the stub, curtains drawn, the ceiling lamp dimmed, empty bottles on the table (more than Noel remembered. Had they really drunk that much?) and Julian's shirt dropped haphazardly on the floor.

"Julian?"

Noel tiptoed into the hall. Was he perhaps still in the bedroom, hiding so well that Noel, in his haste, had missed him completely?

Then he noticed: the door to the bathroom was ajar. He peered in.

Julian was standing in front of the mirror, stroking his unfamiliarly naked upper lip.

"Hey, Ju!" Noel chirped.

"Hello," Julian answered slowly, almost creepily, the way Noel imagined an alley cat would greet a mouse it'd just caught before snapping its neck and gobbling it up.

"Alright?" Noel said, trying to ignore the chill left in his spine.

"I'm very well," Julian answered, "Never been better."

He turned slowly to Noel and grinned his wolfish grin, baring his teeth. Julian was always slightly sinister when he grinned like this, but now he seemed on the brink of madness, his eyes glowing unusually bright and his naked chin unsettling the familiar balance in his face, making his eyes seem even smaller than usual and his lips even thinner.

"You... want some breakfast?" Noel asked, feeling himself shirking back slightly, like a bully being confronted by his victim's older brother.

"I've already eaten," Julian said, "There's no more bacon left now."

"You never have bacon for breakfast," Noel said, his sense of unease growing like a worm in his stomach.

"I do now," Julian answered, raising his eyebrows the way he does at girls he might or might not fancy when he's drunk, "There will be a couple of changes around here now."

"Um, are you still drunk, Julian?" Noel asked. It had to be the only explanation for his weird behaviour.

"It's not 'Julian' any more, sonny," Julian answered, "I'm Doctor Bad Ju-Ju Pettifer now."

"Doctor bad? What? Julian, what are you on about?"

Julian was coming closer now and Noel backed away. Julian hardly ever approached him and the few times he did, Noel made sure to do everything he could think of to encourage him. But now he couldn't help himself.

And Julian wasn't put off; he just followed.

"I had a long think this morning," Julian said, his voice dropping almost to a whisper, like when a James Bond villain is telling Bond about his ingenious plan, "And I've figured out what's wrong with my life."

"Oh?" Noel said, trying to keep his voice light and conversational as his back hit the hallway wall, trapping him.

"Yes," Julian answered, leaning in, one hand on either side of Noel's head, "You."

Noel stared up into Julian's eyes, not daring to look away. Julian was grinning still, the lines around his eyes and mouth deep and almost painful-looking, as if they had been cut into his face with a chisel. His grin was so wide, his eyes so bright, that he looked more like a caricature than a real person.

"What do you mean?" Noel asked, his voice breaking slightly. He really had no idea what Julian was up to, but it certainly didn't seem to bode well. But he had watched enough secret-agent films to know that if the hero kept the villain talking, things usually went a little bit better.

"You make my life hell," Julian answered, his grin gone instantly, as if ripped from his face, "I despise you. You represent everything I hate. You in your clothes and your hair, running around with your tabloid celebrities. You're selling out. I won't be dragged into the dirt with you, you whore."

If the apocalypse had arrived just then, Noel wouldn't have noticed it, even if everything around him was suddenly devoured by fire and brimstone. All he could see was Julian's eyes hovering in front of him, hate-filled and cold. If it hadn't been for Julian's stone-serious face, Noel would have giggled and tossed everything he had said to one side and forgotten it. It was always so easy to ignore Julian's words, as if they didn't carry any weight, like the huge advert-boards on the tube which the brain hardly registers.

But Julian was serious now. Nothing at all in his face indicated that he was being anything else. Whenever he was pulling a joke there was always a tiny glint of amusement shining behind his eyes, like the first rays of the sunrise stretching up over the horizon. But now: nothing. Dark were his eyes, like that disused well Noel had stumbled over (and almost into) once ages ago out in the countryside.

"But..." Noel tried, not sure where this was going, like when addressing a heckler, but this time a heckler who looked like he wanted to kill him, "You've never minded before? You don't like all that publicity stuff. So what if I go to a party, it doesn't affect you. You don't like being photographed and written about. I don't mind it, you know."

"Maybe you haven't noticed," Julian said, leaning forward and whispering into Noel's ear, "We're a double-act. Whatever you do reflects back on me."

"Then come with me next time," Noel answered, desperately trying to find a solution. Usually, solving problems wasn't that important because they didn't have many, and if they did, they usually sorted themselves out. Mostly because Julian backed down and let Noel have his way.

"No," Julian said, his grin returning, touching one of his teeth with the tip of his tongue, "Either we do this together or not at all. And I'm thinking not at all. I'm ending it here. There is no more Boosh because there'll be no more you."

And, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he wrapped his hands around Noel's neck and tightened his grip.

Noel was too shocked to fight, too shocked even to move. If this was some sort of sordid sex-game then he was not enjoying himself one bit.

Julian's hands were digging into his throat, and Noel could no longer breathe. His ears were beginning to hum like a distant ocean and his head seemed suddenly much lighter. He looked up at Julian, the contours of his face blurry, and tried to speak. But nothing came out of his mouth, only a deep pain in his throat as his Adam's apple pressed against Julian's hand.

Noel knew that he should start getting worried now. But this floaty feeling was actually quite comfortable, as if nothing in the world mattered any more. As if the rest of the world didn't even exist. His eyes drifted shut and it reminded him of that time on Chris's floor after some show or other when they had ended up doing too many drugs and everything had melted away around him and it was like lying on a cloud out in nowhere just staring at the shadows on the ceiling. They never changed, so different from the rest of the ceiling, as if they had been painted on by some sort of un-understandable deity which didn't really exist, but might exist anyway, because who knows?, maybe no-one really exists any more.

Noel smiled, his lungs empty but his heart brimful, warming him from the inside. Wasn't the world beautiful? So big and beautiful, he could never comprehend it all on his own. It needed to be shared, and always the first person to cross his mind when he thought of sharing was Julian.

Where was Julian, wasn't he here?

Noel opened his eyes again, so heavy, and saw Julian just there in front of him. How convenient.

He lifted his hands to Julian's face and leant closer. But he couldn't move. Why couldn't he move? Oh well, if he couldn't come to Julian, then Julian had better come to him, then. So he pulled on Julian's face and it snapped forward like a twig suddenly breaking, and their lips met.


*


Something cracked inside him, like the way a glass will crack if something too hot is poured into it.

All morning he had been so sure of himself, nothing like what he had been before. All morning he had known exactly what he wanted and how to get it. He was no longer the awkward, bumbling fool everyone smiled sweetly at and then laughed at behind his back. He knew people laughed at him. He knew he didn't fit in with the crowd he hung with, he stood out like piss-stains in the snow.

He had never dared do everything he wanted, afraid that it might hurt someone's feelings or go against someone's expectations. But he wasn't worried about that any more, as if the barrier of politeness and consideration around him had magically been ripped down over night.

So what if he was a bit rude? People could take it. In fact, he didn't care what people thought at all. All empathy was gone, as if blown away on a freak breeze. He didn't care any more.

But all of a sudden, that split second Noel's lips touched his own, a tiny splinter of his old self broke away and pierced his heart and made him let go of Noel's throat.

He stumbled backwards, shaking as a deep, hot pain clutched at him as if trying to rip him apart from the inside. He stared at Noel slipping to the floor like a ragdoll. How he used to love him. Now all he did was loathe him. He hated him so much it made him want to vomit. Why had he got involved in the first place? This collection of skin and bones and hair represented everything that was wrong with the world. If he could rid the world of this life then everything would be happy again and that searing, ripping, mind-numbing pain in his chest would stop!

"Noel?"

Bad Ju-Ju froze, hearing a key turn in the lock.

Fuck! Dee was home. What to do, what to do? He hopped from one foot to the other as if dancing on hot coals.

The door opened. There was nothing for it: he had to leave. He'd come back later and wrap things up then.

He pushed past Dee without looking at her, bumping into someone else on his way and rushed down the stairs.


*


Noel blinked. Why was he on the floor?

He heard a rushing sound next to him and something warm touched his cheek.

"Noel?"

He knew that voice, it was one of his most favourite voices in the world. He turned slowly towards it like a flower turning towards the sun.

"Noel, are you alright? What are you doing on the floor? Have you and Julian been fighting? I'll kill him if he's hurt you!"

Noel smiled slightly. Dee, always so violent.

"I'm fine," he answered, not quite finding his voice, a dull ache in his throat still.

"Julian didn't look himself," came another voice from up above him. Noel looked up and saw James's face up there, worried.

"This isn't right, Noel," Dee said, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," he answered, suddenly ashamed as he remembered what had happened. He didn't want to tell them about it. And why should they worry anyway? He didn't need people worrying about him as if he was just a kid. He could look after himself, he could sort out his problems himself.

"Tell me or I'll cut you," Dee answered, pulling his hair, forcing him to look at her. All resolution slipped from him as he met her eyes and he knew he would tell her right away. She always had that effect on him, as if she could control his mind.

"Julian's gone mad. He tried to strangle me."

The worried expression on Dee's face melted instantly and was replaced by a repressed giggle.

"Really?" she said in disbelief, "Julian tried to strangle you? I like it. The boy's growing backbone. Who would've though that he'd finally manage to stand up to you. Good on him."

She let go of Noel's hair and stood up, letting her smile spread, shaking her head at him as if to say that he was a silly little liar. He couldn't believe this. She was dismissing his whole story, just like that? And not only that: she was taking Julian's side. That was not fair.

"Fuck you," he sneered, getting to his feet, slightly uneasily, "He fucking tried to kill me, Dee."

"Always the drama queen," Dee said, meeting James's eyes, "You've got to have done something pretty bad to make him want to kill you."

"I haven't done anything," Noel answered, frowning at her refusal to believe him, "He said he'd had a long think and decided he hated me. But whatever, yeah?"

He turned and went into the sitting room. He wouldn't stand for this, being mocked like this in his own home. And especially not in front of James. He turned off the ceiling lamp and opened the curtains. The air still was heavy, filled with the smell of stale beer and candle smoke.

"If this is what writing comedy's like then I'm quitting music right now," James said, following him.

"Noel, are you wearing my pyjama trousers?" Dee asked, leaning on the door frame, arms crossed and amusement dancing in her eyes.

James turned to Noel as if he hadn't noticed him before and began laughing.

"Nice one, mate."

"Shut up," Noel snapped, crossing his arms too, suddenly very aware of his naked chest.

"Knock yourself out. Best way to get over shock is by wearing pink girls' trousers, I suppose," Dee said, pushing herself away from the doorframe, toeing off her boots and dropping her coat on top of them, "Tea, James?"

"Cheers," he nodded and turned to Noel, "I'm just borrowing a CD."

"Right," Noel answered tight-lipped, hating James's giggling eyes, "Well, they're over there." And he nodded at the CDs on the shelf in the other corner. As if James didn't know.


*


So killing Noel had been interrupted, had it? Damn Dee for always turning up at the most inconvenient times. She always did that, as if she had some sort of sensor telling her when they certainly didn't want her, and her selfish little face deciding that of course she'd come then.

Bad Ju-Ju clenched his fists as he hurried along the road, leaving his own flat behind. He could have stayed there and waited to get his hands on Noel again. But the atmosphere had grown thick so fast, Julia with her insistent questions. She just wouldn't understand, no matter how much he tried to explain. It was easier to leave.

His fingers itched. Everything itched, like maggots inside his skin. Wrapping his hands around Noel's neck had been such a glorious feeling, as if the tension in every bone and muscle had melted away and he was truly happy for once.

He needed that sensation again, like the way he needed a cigarette in the mornings. He needed it, his whole body hungering it. And this time he refused to be interrupted. This time he would kill.

But how could he get at Noel? He couldn't go back to Noel's flat yet, not with Dee there.

Or, maybe he could kill someone that in passing could be mistaken for Noel, as a sort of replacement while he waited for the real thing? But who?

Russell Brand. Russell fucking Brand. He had to die. He was always a complete cunt when they met him, relishing in making them uncomfortable and embarrassed.

And this wouldn't just be a fix: this would be revenge.

And it needn't stop there. He could take revenge over everyone who'd ever made him cringe like that. Pretty much anyone who'd interviewed them, really. Everyone that had ever fawned over Noel and then just turned to him as an afterthought and asked something stupid about jazz. They should all die. Russell Brand. Jo Whiley, Jonathan Ross, Steve Wright, those cunts at Soccer AM. All of them.

But he needed something now. He couldn't live with this pain in his chest much longer, like a lance driven through his heart.

Hang on. The Horrors. Didn't they have their rooms somewhere round here? How stupid of them to tell him where they practiced that time they'd met. What an awful interview and article that had been. In the NME, together with The Horrors. Bad Ju-Ju shivered in disgust. Those creepy, ugly, wanna-be cool art-school twats. They didn't deserve to live. And especially not now that Noel thought they were cool.

He'd go and pay them a visit. It would be no trouble at all. Thin boys have thin necks and thin necks are easily snapped.


*


Noel's phone rang, filling the room with a terrible rendition of Keane's 'Somewhere Only We Know'. James groaned from the corner where he was looking through Dee's CDs. (He'd still not found the one he was looking for, because he couldn't understand Dee's system. Mostly because there was no system, she just put them wherever there was room.)

"Make that fucking phone shut up!" Dee yelled from the kitchen, "I swear I'll smash it up if you don't change that ringtone, boy."

"Yeah, yeah, you've been saying that for weeks," Noel answered, digging desperately through papers and bottles trying to find it. He hated that song just as much as everyone else, but he couldn't figure out how to get rid of it. Chris had fiddled with his phone one drunken night and the next day Noel found himself with the most terrifying ringtone he could dream of.

Finally, there it was, half-way hidden under the carpet under the table.

"Hello?"

"Noel?"

"Julia?"

"What the fuck were you and Julian up to last night?"

"Nothing. We were just writing," Noel answered, taken aback. He had heard Julia being annoyed a couple of times before, but never this angry, and it had certainly never been directed at him.

"Well, you must have done something because he's not himself."

Icy lightning ran down Noel's spine as he remembered Julian's mad eyes boring into his mind.

"Did he hurt you?"

"What? No," Julia answered, her anger slipping, replaced with confusion, "No, he's just... I don't know, gone a bit odd?"

"I know," Noel answered, quietly, "He was like that when I woke up this morning."

"How did that happen, Noel?" Julia asked, anger creeping back into her voice, "It must've been something the two of you did last night."

"We didn't do anything, I swear," Noel answered, his voice breaking, "We had a couple of drinks, that's all. Is he still there with you?"

"No, he left, saying something about not wanting to sell out and 'killing that cunt' and not being a tramp. He talked about you too, but he was in such a frenzy I couldn't make out what he was saying."

It was true! Julian had been trying to kill him. Julian really had gone mad.

"Maybe you'd better come over," Noel said.

"Julian said I should stay away from you..." she answered uncertainly, "That I shouldn't leave the house."

"Yeah, but you're the one who said he's not right."

"Well, I thought you should know."

"Look, you can't stay there, what if he comes back? You're safer here with Dee and James and me."

"I..." Julia said, her voice dropping to a whisper, "I think he wants to hurt you."

"I know," Noel answered in the same low voice, "He tried to kill me earlier."

"What? Noel, oh god! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, don't worry."

"We can't have this," she said determined, "I am coming over, we have to stop him."

"But we don't... Julia? Julia? Hello?"

He looked down at his phone. Yes, Julia had hung up.

"Trying to sell your story to Julia too?" Dee asked, leaning on the kitchen doorframe, "Are you really that starved of sympathy, Noel? God, you're such a child sometimes."


*


Bad Ju-Ju picked the lock and slipped in. He wasn't nervous or worried like he would have been only yesterday. This was so easy, why hadn't he done it before?

He walked along a dark corridor and heard a distant wailing coming steadily closer. He grinned to himself. This would be fun.

As he opened the door, an avalanche of music-less noise hit him and he saw in the tiny room five bean-stalk thin boys pretending to be rockstars.

One of them noticed him and the music withered and died as the others realised they were being watched too.

"Julian!" the one, hilariously, named Spider called out, "Alright?"

"Hello," Bad Ju-Ju answered and closed the door behind him, "I was in the neighbourhood and I thought I'd drop by."

"Cool," the pseudo-guitarist Joshua said, "You want a drink?"

"Please," Bad Ju-Ju said and went right up to him and put his hand on his shoulder, "Right after you're dead." And with his other hand on Joshua's forehead, he snapped his head right off his body.

The four others stared at him a moment before they started screaming like girls.

"No-one'll hear you," Bad Ju-Ju said, advancing on Faris, Joshua's limp and bleeding body still in his hand, "And if someone does, they'll just think you're still singing."

He took hold of Faris's shoulder and grinned at the terror in his eyes. Oh, to be alive!

"You like styling your hair, don't you? I hear blood is all the rage this spring."

And he smashed Faris's face into the stump of Joshua's neck as hard as he could before dropping the two bodies carelessly to the floor.

"Now, what about you?" he mused, turning to the three remaining boys, "What to do, what to do."


*


The doorbell rang and Noel went to open it, pulling on Julian's discarded shirt on the way.

He let Julia in and took her coat. She seemed nervous, nothing like the light-hearted, happy person he was used to meeting.

Dee gave her a cup of tea as they sat down in the sitting room, rolling her eyes in annoyance at Noel. Last night's bottles had been shoved into a corner behind a canvas with a half-finished painting Noel hadn't touched in weeks and the papers had been stacked into a somewhat tidy pile at the end of the table.

"So, Julian's gone mad, has he?" Dee said and flung herself down in her armchair, glaring at Julia in the sofa next to Noel.

"Yeah," Julia answered, "I suppose that's the best way to describe it."

"Drugs do mess with people's minds," James said, dropping his voice like an old woman gossiping, "I mean, look at Chris..."

"All we had was a couple of drinks," Noel said, poignantly refusing to let his eyes wander to the bottles behind the canvas.

"And a make-over," Julia said.

"A make-over? Couldn't have been a very good one, judging by the state of him over there," Dee said, nodding at Noel, "He looks a complete mess. My pyjama trousers and Julian's shirt. And he's the well-dressed one. I can't even begin imagining what kind of a state Julian's in."

"He doesn't look that bad, actually," Julia said, "He's had his moustache shaved off."

Dee froze, her hand half-way through her hair.

"He's gone mad and his moustache's been shaved off?"

"Yes?" Julia said.

"Do you think the two could be connected?" Dee mused at no-one in particular, twisting her hair around her finger like a child trying to solve an extra difficult maths problem, "That he's gone mad because he's lost his moustache?"

She was staring out into space, mussing up her hair absently, her eyebrows drawn tight. Noel glanced at Julia and then to James. Julia was watching Dee uneasily, like someone waiting for a cracker to burst. James met Noel's eyes questioningly before turning back to Dee.

"Dee," he said carefully, like a man treading through a mine-field, "I don't want to sound rude, but: what are you on about?"

But Dee didn't snap his head off, she just turned to him as if contemplating the question.

"He's lost his moustache, therefore he's gone mad. He wasn't mad last night, was he, Noel?"

"No," Noel answered, wondering, like the two others, what Dee was trying to get at.

"Exactly," she answered, "So it's the lack of moustache that's made him mad. There's no other explanation, there's nothing else that could have set him off, is there? Unless him and Noel had a big fight last night?"

"No, we didn't," Noel said, "We had a drink and did a bit of writing and went to sleep around three." Oh, and we had sex in your bed. But Noel figured he'd better not include that snippet of information, what with both their girlfriends here. And James and his gossiping mouth.

"So," Dee concluded, "Julian's gone mad because his moustache's been shaved off."

"You do present a very convincing case," James said, even more carefully, "Except that it's completely insane."

"Noel," Dee said, still turned to James, "What was the last thing you and Julian worked on before you shaved his moustache off? Because I assume it was you who shaved it off."

Did Dee know everything? It was impossible to keep anything from her. It was a miracle that she didn't know about him and Julian. And, as always, Noel found himself unable to lie to her.

"Yeah," he said uncomfortably, not looking up, "It was me. We were writing Boosh." And then we had sex in your bed. Again Noel decided he'd better not say that last bit out loud.

"Exactly," Dee said, sitting up, more excited now, "It's like a Boosh adventure, yeah? Like, Noel and Julian are so immersed in the Boosh world that it's beginning to seep into this world. You know? Like, like Torchwood."

James cleared his throat, clearly hiding a giggle, and turned to Noel.

"You watched Torchwood, did you, Noel?"

"No!" Noel almost shouted, then realised that no-one believed him and hung his head, "Yeah. But only because Dee fancies Captain Jack."

"I think you'll find it's you who fancies Captain Jack, Noel," Dee answered, amused.

"I don't," Noel snapped back without thinking, "I like Ianto."

The room grew suddenly pressingly silent a second before both Dee and James burst out laughing.

"Oh, you're a comic genius, Noel," Dee giggled, "I love you."

"This is all well and good," Julia said, trying to keep a straight face, "But what about Julian?"

But just then Noel's phone rang, filling their ears with 'Somewhere Only We Know' yet again.

"I will kill your phone, Noel, I swear I will," Dee hissed as Noel tried to answer it as quickly as possible, dropping it to the floor in the scramble.

"It's not my fault! It's Chris, that twat."

Finally he found the right button and the terrible music stopped.

"Hello?"

"Noel?" came a breathless voice.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Faris."

"Oh! Hi, how are you?"

"Look, I don't have much time," Faris said, panting as if he had been running, "That mate of yours, Julian, stopped by."

"Julian..." Noel gasped, looking up at Dee and then at Julia, "Is he still there?"

"Dude, he killed Josh!" Faris shouted, "And the others are dead as far as I can tell. I can't..."

"Can't what? Faris, you can't what?!"

"Can't..." Faris wheezed, "Bye, Noel..." And Noel heard some gurgling noises and then silence.

He stared at Dee as the silence at the other end went on unbroken. Slowly he took the phone away from his ear and hung up.

"Julian's just killed The Horrors."

Noel couldn't think, as if every thought he had ever had in his little head had suddenly been erased. He was completely empty. He had just heard another person die over his phone. A friend had died and he had heard it. A friend Julian had killed. Julian, his favourite person in the world, his best friend, his lover, had just killed someone. This was too much to comprehend.

"What, those cunts with the hair?" James asked and, as if doused with icy water, Noel found himself back in his sitting room.

"They're my friends, James," he snapped, anger bursting in his stomach like firework, hot and fierce. How could James be so insensitive? Julian had killed someone.

"Yes..." Dee said thoughtfully, "Yes, that makes sense."

"No, it fucking doesn't!" Noel shouted, suddenly on his feet, ready to beat her, "Julian's just killed someone! He killed them, Delia!"

But she just looked quietly up at him from her chair as if nothing was wrong. Why did she have to pull a Chris on him now of all times?! People had died, for fuck's sake.

"Calm down, Noel," she said, "Let's get this straight, okay?"

"I'm not fucking sitting down!" Noel snapped back, "People have died. Julian killed them!"

Dee tightened her lips and got to her feet slowly, like a snake rearing up before striking.

"You'll sit down or it'll be worse for you," she said in that deathly-calm way only she could do. Noel glared at her and she glared back unrelenting until he had to back down, weakening under the weight of her eyes on him. He gave her one last icy look and sat down.

"Thank you," she said and sat down too, "Now, not only has Julian's lack of a moustache made him mad, it's also released all his evil into the world."

"Oh!" Noel chirped in, suddenly remembering, forgetting that he was still angry with Dee, "He said he wasn't Julian Barratt any more, he said he's 'Doctor Bad Ju-Ju Pettifer'."

"Well, there we have it," Dee said and threw out her arms in satisfaction.

"I'm sorry," James said, "But I feel I have to say it again: You're making no sense, Dee."

"You really do need everything fed to you with a teaspoon, don't you, Cook?" Dee said and sighed, "Have you ever seen a dam?"

"Yes, of course I have," James answered.

"And what would happen if that dam suddenly was, say, shaved off the face of the world?"

"The water would go everywhere," James answered, "What does this have to do with Julian?"

"I'm getting to that," Dee said, "Now, we're all angry and evil and selfish once in a while, right?"

"Some more than others," James said, mostly to himself, certainly not looking at Dee.

"Thanks, Cook, you really are a lovely bloke, have I told you that lately?" she answered venomously, "Anyway. Most of us know how to get these feelings out of our system. Music, acting, whatever."

"Beating up our boyfriends..." James added.

"Thank you, James," Dee answered slowly, trying to kill him with her glare, "You're being very useful. Where was I? Oh yes, getting it out of our system. Everyone knows how to, except Julian. Noel plays evil characters like Old Gregg and the Hitcher and lets his evil thoughts out through them. But Julian doesn't: he only plays stupid characters like Howard and Mr Susan. The most evil thing he's played is that artist in 'Asylum' and that's ages ago, before he grew his moustache in the first place. All his anger and evil feelings have been locked away and his moustache has acted as a kind of dam and now that it's gone, his evil has been released into the world and has taken over him completely."

"You're mental," James said simply and sat back and crossed his arms.

"Do you have a better solution?" Dee answered.

"Well, he's gone mad, hasn't he? It's probably Noel driving him round the bend with his insistent talking."

"It is not!" Noel snapped, sitting up, "That's well out of order, James."

"Fuck you," James said coldly.

"No, fuck you," Noel answered, ready to rip James's head right off his body.

"Does it matter?" Julia broke in, "Our main objective should be to rescue Julian."

"Just one small problem," James said, still in the same foul mood, "He's mad and evil. I think maybe we should rescue the rest of the world from him, not him from the world?"

"He's the father of my children," Julia snapped, "He's your friend, James, that should matter, even to you."

"It does, of course it does," James said, taken aback by Julia's anger, "All I'm saying is that we can't rescue him, it's too dangerous. Let the police handle it."

But Noel didn't hear these last few words, he was remembering what Dee had said before Faris had phoned, about this being like a Boosh adventure. Because, if considered from a Boosh point-of-view, it did actually make sense. Could Dee's theory be right? That shaving Julian's moustache off had made him evil, like in a Boosh adventure written by a madman? And if so, then Noel would have to rescue him. Because that is the Boosh formula: Howard gets into a scrape and Vince rescues him.

"I'm with Julia," he said, getting to his feet, "We're rescuing Julian."

"It can't be done, Noel," James said.

"Fine, stay here," Noel shrugged, suddenly completely sure of himself, "Just so you know: Julian wants to kill me and if he comes back here and you're the only one in, you could end up missing your next gig."

James stared up at him a second, thinking the statement though before sighing and rolling his eyes.

"Fine."

"Brilliant," Noel said, a warm spark of excitement tickling his stomach, as if he were about to go out on stage in front of hundreds of people and be Vince again, "I'll just go and get dressed and we'll be off."

"Where are we going?" Dee asked, scrutinising his face, "You know something, you cheeky cabbage."

"Like you said," he answered, unable to stop smiling, "It's just another Boosh adventure. And Vince always knows where to find Howard."

"Yeah, I've always wondered about that," he heard Dee say as he hurried to the bedroom, "Howard and Vince do seem to have quite an... interesting... relationship."


*


Something caught his eye as he wandered down the street. Something blue and familiar: a poster with his own face staring beadily back down at him from a shop window. His own eyes and yet not his own, trying to look serious but ending up uncertain and uncomfortable. Nothing like the confident eyes he'd seen in the mirror this morning.

He stopped in front of the poster and looked up at it.

He hated it. He hated that picture. He hated that character he had created for himself, impossible to escape. No-one knew the real him anymore; everyone thought he was that useless, bland, megalomaniac Howard Moon. Sometimes he wasn't even sure himself where he himself ended and Howard began. Howard had taken over his life like a parasite, eating him up from within, like those wasps that lay their egg inside a caterpillar and when the baby wasp grows too big, the caterpillar explodes and the wasp emerges. Howard was that baby wasp and Bad Ju-Ju was that caterpillar. And just to complete the analogy, Noel could be the mummy wasp or whatever.

All in all: if Howard had been a real person, he would have been on top of Bad Ju-Ju's to-kill list. Just after Noel, of course.

But, Bad Ju-Ju thought, even if he might not be able to kill Howard, he could try and make him disappear. Or at least put people off buying the DVDs.

Almost before he registered it, he was on his way into the shop, the pink HMV logo flashing past him.

"Alright, Julian," came a chipper voice from somewhere on his right. Bad Ju-Ju nodded vaguely in that direction, refusing to let some twat interrupt him.

Heading towards the DVD-section, he saw those tell-tale blue, pink and black boxes shining back at him like stained-glass windows gone wrong.

"Can I help you, mate?" came another voice. Again Bad Ju-Ju ignored it.

The pain in his chest had been creeping steadily back after he had killed The Horrors and now it was almost too much to bear again. Maybe, just maybe, smashing up these DVDs would tide him over long enough to get him to BBC Television Centre without doubling over as if his lungs were being ripped out of his body.

His hand went out, caressing that pointy face a second before the whole shop was filled with a loud, satisfying racket. Distant voices mingled in but he ignored them, focusing on the noise like waves against rocks, soothing and calm.


*


"What? You're the one who said this is a Boosh adventure," Noel retaliated, flinging his arms out in mock-frustration, trying not to giggle.

Dee's face was screwed up like that time Sue had dared her to eat a whole lemon, giggling like mad. James was staring blankly at him and Julia shaking her head, looking as if she was ready to give up the whole mission right now.

"I know I did, love," Dee answered, her whole body shaking, "But your mirrorball suit?"

"What's wrong with it?" Noel asked. What was wrong with wearing his mirrorball suit? This was a Boosh adventure and Boosh adventures meant dressing up, preferably in shiny things.

Dee took a deep breath and finally managed to compose herself.

"Nothing's wrong with it. But you know you'll be parading through all of London like that, yeah?"

"You should wear something more, I don't know, flexible?" James said, "More wearer-friendly?"

"What, like tight jeans, waistcoat and a long, flowing scarf?" Noel asked.

James glanced down himself and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Yes...?"

"Does it matter what you're wearing?" Julia asked frustrated, "Julian..."

The other three glanced at each other and nodded. Julia was right, they had to go and find Julian.

"Right, so what's the plan, spaceboy?" Dee asked Noel.

"Okay, so we know Julian was trying to kill me, yeah?" Noel said, his mirrorball suit crackling as he moved, "But he didn't manage it, so he went after something that I like instead: The Horrors, may they rest in peace. So I'm thinking he'll probably go after other things that I like too."

"Like what, Haribos and sequins?" James asked.

"No," Noel answered in the same sarcastic tone, "I'm thinking Dee, you, Razorlight, the NME, those kinds of things."

"You don't seem very concerned about getting killed," James said, "He wants to kill you, Noel."

"Have you ever seen a Boosh episode that didn't end well?" Noel asked.

"There's the Electro one where Sue and I beat you up," Dee said.

"And the radio episode where Fossil's mum comes and you all run back into the box together with those murderous animals," Julia added.

"And I got killed in that granny episode," James said.

"Yeah, yeah, but apart from all that," Noel said, "Boosh is a positive show, let's keep our spirits up, yeah? Let's have fun with it."

"We all know Vince is a bundle of joy," James said, "But I can't say I can see the fun in having Julian running around London killing people."

"You do realise we're wasting a lot of time just standing around talking?" Julia asked, her voice tense.

"Sorry," Noel said, "I'm thinking we'll go to NME headquarters, I'm pretty sure Julian will turn up there eventually. He hates it when they write about us."

"But they've not written about you in months," James said.

"How do you know?" Noel asked, cocking an eyebrow at James, "You don't read NME, do you, Jim? You're too cool for school."

"I do talk to people, you know," James snapped back, "I don't live completely in my own bubble."

"Does it matter?" Dee asked, pulling on her boots and coat, "Let's go. NME, here we come!"

They all hurried down the stairs like ping-pong balls bouncing off walls.

"You look like a twat," Dee told him, the clicking of her heels echoing all around them.

"Just you wait and see," Noel answered, "It will come in handy." He had a feeling, like the aftertaste of burnt food, that his mirrorball suit was the right thing to wear.

"You've gone wrong," she told him.

"I don't think so," he answered, pushing open the door and letting them all tumble out into the street like renegade children on their holiday, "This is a Boosh adventure and clothes are always important."


*


"What do we do when we've rescued Julian?" James asked as they hurried along the street looking for a cab, "If we're not killed in the progress, that is."

"Make his moustache grow back, of course," Dee answered, leaning around Noel.

"But then we don't need to rescue him," James said, "He'll be back to himself tomorrow or the day after."

"Don't you think he'll figure that out?" Dee asked, "He's not stupid, James."

"So we catch him and what? Tie him up and wait?" James asked, turning to Noel.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Noel answered, "There's no better way to make a moustache grow, is there?"

"I wouldn't think so. You know what moustaches are like."

"Well..." Dee chipped in.

"Oi, you trollop," Noel answered, "I am a man, you know."

"Man, little girl, we're not quite sure," Dee said to James with a shrug.

But before Noel could retaliate, the street was filled with 'Somewhere Only We Know', making people glare at him and tut and shake their heads. But, his mirrorball suit didn't have any pockets, where was his phone? He could hear it but where was it? He patted his chest and thighs as if searching for secret pockets.

"It's here," Dee exasperated, picking it out of her handbag, holding it daintily between thumb and forefinger as if it was something dead the cat had just brought in.

"Cheers," Noel said and made the music finally stop.

"Noel!" came a voice from the other end.

"Alright, Mike," Noel chirped back.

"Noel, Julian's gone mad."

"I know," Noel answered, "We're on our way to NME to stop him."

"You do? 'Cause he was here at my job."

Noel stopped, making James almost bump into him.

"At HMV? Why?"

"I don't know, do I. He smashed up the Boosh DVDs and disappeared before anyone could stop him."

Oh, he really knew to hit where it hurt, didn't he? He killed a band Noel liked, he smashed up his life-work. They'd spent so many years working on, living with, becoming Boosh and now Julian dismissed it just like that, as if it was nothing more important than a grain of sand on a beach.

It couldn't be true, no-one could be that evil. Noel had to see it for himself, he needed to see how far Julian was willing to go. Perhaps it would help him figure out a way to stop him, perhaps he could find a clue to evil-Julian's weaknesses.

Because he didn't know what kind of a mission he had set out on. Not only was he putting himself in danger, but risking his friends' lives as well. He pretended to be confident so that they would follow him, because he knew he would never be able to do this all on his own, but truth be told, he had no idea what he was doing.

"Alright, bro, we're on our way," Noel said, "We have to stop him."

He hung up and turned to Dee, Julia and James like a general addressing his troops before giving the signal to charge at the enemy.

"Julian's just smashed up HMV. Change of plans."





Part 2.