booshslashhaven | Challenge #23: BOOSH MOVIE SCENE

thieving-gypsy.livejournal.com posting in

Title: Yellow Cabal
Characters: Julian, Noel, Paul. Hitcher. Old Gregg.
Summary: Noel has a very predictable idea when they're brainstorming for the film.
Wordcount: 1384
Rating: PG13?
Warnings: Too much dialogue. Rampant stupidity that comes from being bored and stuck on a train with a lot of sour-looking old ladies and trying to think up the worst possible things to write in their presence. And, well, wee. I know what you're thinking. Don't think that.
Challenge: #23, Boosh movie scene.
Disclaimer: No truth, no profit. No good, either, but let's ignore that.
Notes: I wrote most of this ages ago and I thought it was too stupid to be allowed to live, but... what the hell. Piss and crack can get a girl far in this fandom, I think. ;) Dedicated to the beautiful

speth and the beautiful afternoon spent doing my two favourite things, drinking tea and mocking Zac Efron. ♥ ♥ ♥ (I told you I was going to do it!)

.

Paul brings several bags of Haribo when he crashes the brainstorming session, so Paul is allowed to stay.

"What've you got?" he wants to know, as Noel tears them all open.

"Only the best idea ever."

"Spit it out, then."

"You won't like it. He won't like it, will he, Ju?"

"He might. Kinky little beggar."

"Don't think he will."

Paul swings a chair around and sits on it backwards. He does this a lot. People agree it's because he thinks it makes him look a bit cool and butch when really he looks like an eager little schoolboy no matter what he does. "Tell me."

"Alright." Noel chucks a jelly strawberry up in the air and tries to catch it in his mouth, but that's a stupid thing to do when you're sprawled out on the carpet on your back because gravity is as insistent as the hardness of the floor and if you can't move your head properly you're going to get a Haribo in the eye, which he does. "Ow, fuck!" he whimpers, but he eats it anyway, eyejuice and all. "Anyway, listen. It's not bent enough, that's what the problem is, that's why we ain't getting nowhere with it. We wanna do something well epic, else-" He whistles like a cartoon bomb plummeting towards an anxious-looking anthropomorphic coyote and slams his palm down on the floor. "Remember the League of Gentlemen film?"

"Vaguely."

"Yeah, vaguely, cos it's shit. We're not making some shit sellout just cos enough people watch us now to turn a profit. We wanna do something that's gonna make everyone go 'OH CHRISTY, WHAT WAS THAT AND WHEN CAN I SEE IT AGAIN?'"

"I don't like this 'we' business," Julian says. "Or this 'wee' business."

Paul eyes them both warily. "Carry on."

"Alright, shut up, just listen to this. Howard and Vince are trying to find the perfect outfits for the zoo reunion party, right? Cos Vince is a tart and Howard's still after Gideon so there's no room for mucking up, they've got to be dead on. So, Vince talks Howard into going out clubbing to see if they can pull, like a test drive. I mean, no point really, cos Vince could pull anytime he wanted to no matter what he's wearing and Howard could drive up in a Ferrari full of diamonds and chocolate and go 'Free diamonds and chocolate, ladies, and I'll throw in this Ferrari for FREE' and still no girl's ever gonna look at him, but anyway, they go out clubbing, right? And it's a dark, cold night. The full moon's talking gibberish. They're nipping in and out of all these clubs cos it's like Goldilocks - the first club's too jazzy, the second club's too poncy, and so on, til they find a club that's just right. OR SO THEY THINK. Guess what's next. Go on. Go on, guess, go on."

"I don't know. Everybody's got rams' legs."

He slips into his geriatric Cockney pervert voice. "'Welcome to The Yellow Cabal, squire. Anything I can do to make your stay less comfortable, you be sure to let me know. Drink? Another drink? Have another drink. All drinks on the house. Go on, son, fill yourself up, that's right...' And they've got fountains and stuff, a big fuck-off fountain right in the middle like a feature, it's got fat little Cupids squirting the water out their fat little willies, yeah? They're dancing, there's all these disco lights flashing off the water spray like rainbows, cos that's foreshadowing, that is, having rainbows just before it goes all bent."

Paul has never sounded less convinced of anything in his life, including the time Rich informed him in a thunderous stage-whisper that he'd invented a time machine out of a tequila bottle he'd just emptied down his gullet and a short length of twine, and he was going to send himself back in time and impregnate his mother so he'd be his own father. "How, exactly, does it go bent?"

"Well. That's the thing, though. Does it count as bent? If it's about a mangina?"

"It's bent," Julian says, firmly. "You said he's got both. That's very, very bent. That's beyond bent, Fielding, that's warped."

"Alright. Extra rainbows, then. Okay, so they're dancing, yeah? Howard's well in his element, he's bootyshaking like it's his job cos they're playing this crazy funk, he's necking all the free drinks cos that's why it's funny every time they see the Hitcher, right? They never remember him. They just think he's Peter Stringfellow with some new tropical kind of jaundice or something, now, so they have all these drinks, and they're dancing and Howard's all 'Yes SIR, Howard Moon is feeling mighty fine tonight!' but all the drinks and the arsewiggling and the sound from the pissing Cupids in the fountain, it's all getting to him, yeah? And he turns round to go and look for the little boys' room. And then..."

"And then?"

"'I'm Old Gregg! You came back for me, Howard!' And Howard's so fucking scared he screams his tits off and pisses himself. WHOOSH, piss everywhere, piss all down his legs and piss on the dancefloor and Gregg's going 'Oh, I knew you loved me!' and he's all delirious with lust, he's pissing himself as well then the Hitcher knocks the go-go dancer off the podium with his stick and gets up there and he starts pissing and laughing like a nutjob and pissing and pissing, OH there's piss everywhere, it's filling up the room, everyone's swimming in piss, the level's getting higher and higher like the fucking Titanic, he's going 'FEEL MY HOT MUSKY LIQUIDS CARESSING YOUR SKIN' and everyone in the club's doggypaddling around in the piss, it's getting higher and higher, it's nearly at the ceiling, Howard's screaming and screaming like a little bitch cos he don't wanna die, he's got so much to give, and then, and then..."

"I don't even want to know, Noel."

"Then he wakes up. Cos he was dreaming."

"Personally, I think 'then he wakes up' needs a bit of work," Julian says. Noel gives him the finger and shovels another half a pack of sweets into his mouth.

"You're completely insane. I mean, even by your standards."

"Oh, come on. Let the little urophile have his fun, won't you?"

"You think it's a good idea?"

"I'm just happy I'm not the only one getting pissed on."

Noel's rolling on his back, laughing hysterically and dribbling fried eggs and cola bottles. "It'll be amazing."

"I'm not so sure."

"Where's your sense of anarchic adventure buggered off to?"

"It's better than the alternative, anyway," Julian says, mildly. He starts flicking the sweets scattered on the carpet, trying to land them on Noel's mod target t-shirt like it's some kind of live-action tiddlywinks game. They don't stay, even when he aims well. Noel's laughing too much.

"Should I even ask?"

"Yeah, we were talking about it before you got here, it's well genius, you'll love it, you being such a queer and everything."

"Shut up, Noel. Julian?"

Skiving off stand-up for this long hasn't lost him his knack of the perfect comedy-dramatic pause. He drags it out just long enough to start to be uncomfortable, just like the old days, then says, "He's demanding either the piss or a big green salty blowjob," and Noel gigglechokes half to death on a fizzy yellow jelly dummy.

"Right." Paul's got his elbows on the back of his chair and his face cupped in his hands and he looks like a daydreaming ten-year-old. "Wait, but I thought..." he says, slow and musing like he's making sure in his mind it's what he really does think. "I thought Old Gregg's freshwater?"

Noel licks his fingertip and starts mopping up the loose sugar in the corner of the bag, sniggering. Julian's as deadpan as ever.

"You've never given a blowjob before, have you?"

Paul's elbow slips off the chair.

Noel's slurping around his sugary finger now like an exaggerated demonstration. "I'd be blowing myself. Hitcher and Gregg in the club where people wee on each other. You know it makes sense, they're soulmates. Bluescreen nightmare, Pauly. Just let me do the piss."

"You're meant to be keeping it fifteen, remember?"

"Yeah, but we need DVD extras!"

"I'm going home now."

Current Mood: lol ridiculous

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From:

blewoutthestars.livejournal.com

I just fell in love with you. Again.

I'm going to write to the boys and say that they don't need to bother writing a film script because I know someone who'll do it perfectly. And then you can write the movie and it'll be wonderful and I'll fangirl all over you - forget Noel and Ju! (No, that's cruel, I'll fangirl over them too. But you first.)

In other words - I love it :D :D

From:

Welcome to the Kingdom of Gheydom

Challenge #23: BOOSH MOVIE SCENE

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