Hey, it's good to be writing again.
Let's just cut to the chase, I write this after watching a very well known (and if you don't know this film you need shooting really) film by Tim Burton; Beetlejuice.
Now, unlike usual crossovers where the script is just changed to fit around the characters I've *tried* to make this as original, whilst still sticking to the plotline.
Howard and Vince are together in this, though no obvious slash (for now) so if you don't like, don't read, okay?
I hope you'll appreciate this as I enjoyed writing this first chapter, and more should come soon.
Warnings: Character death, but not dead, if you get me. Also, be aware of the bad, bad jokes – what can I say, I love trying to make people laugh.
Disclaimer: The Mighty Boosh and all affiliates belong to Noel Fielding, Julian Barratt and Baby cow. Beetle Juice belongs to Warner Bros productions and Tim Burton.
Enjoy the show x
Howard Moon and Vince Noir, best friends since Nursery, or was it High School, or did they meet at…well they were friends and lets just leave it there, frequent trouble causers and most importantly, engaged lovers.
Now in their thirties, living in a flat and working for their landlord to pay their keep, life didn't seem to be going to well for the aspiring cream poet, jazz musician, man of action/global explorer and the budding rock star, if it wasn't for their engagement some would say they didn't have a life at all.
Howard sat behind the glowing green cash desk and rubbed his hands together, rather 'matter of factly'.
"I think we've hauled in quite the crowd today, oh boy am I exhausted."
"Howard," Vince sighed, looking over his magazine. "We had one girl come in because she needed the toilet and a man coming in because he thought it was a cheaper version of Anne Summers."
"Well if you didn't have those boots in the window, they look like something from a 70's porno."
"Hey, they're Vintage!" Vince pouted, burying his head back into his magazine; oh, gypsy skirts were back in, were they even in at all?
"Well, they're not selling are they? Anyway, shush, Stationary Village needs a rethink."
Vince rolled his eyes affectionately and carried on reading, fascinated now about the origin of the eye patch. He only managed to read the title before:
"I know what it needs!"
Vince jumped, startled out of his concentration "What?"
"Stationary Village, I know what it needs! Winter is upon us, I've already mastered Ink Cartridge Igloo but it needs something more, it needs… something else, think Vince, think!"
"I dunno… glue-stick glacier?"
"Glue-stick Glacier, Vince my darling you're a genius. I could kiss you!"
"Go on then." Vince smirked; Howard shook his head, not noticing Vince's face fall into a scowl.
"No time, we must make a run to the shops – I have glue sticks to buy and polystyrene and then some stronger glue, get your coat!" Howard smiled, darting past Vince and spinning the shop sign around to 'closed'.
"Oi, where do you two think you're going?" Naboo's south London lisp shouted from upstairs, Howard sighed and shouted back.
"Urgent shop errand, we won't be long if we take the van."
"I wouldn't, I'm making some few adjustments to it. Walk."
"Ugh, Howard I aint walking it is freezing. Just go in the van, what harm can it do, we're only going to the shop."
Those were famous last words, if there were any.
10 minutes later
Vince sighed, how they'd ended up in the countryside was beyond them, the shop was only downtown.
"If we take this left we should get back into the city." Howard mumbled to himself, flicking his indicators on and making the aformented turn, another country lane Vince thought; great.
"Howard, love, if we're going to be driving around for three hours can I at least put the heating on?"
"Of course sweetheart, I thought it already was on."
"No, of course it isn't… that's why there's icicles dancing on the dashboard." Vince pointed at the dashboard for Howard and surely enough, there on the plastic was three dancing icicles, performing the Macarena.
"Uh, we're here until Thursday!"
Vince looked at the dials on the control panel of the van, there were three of them; one had numbers on, so Vince presumed that had something to do with speed of the van and didn't touch it. The second one had blue and red coloured lines around the edge and the third was covered in wavy lines and stars, Vince considered the coloured one first but then realized that other one seemed more plausible, after all the wavy lines had to have symbolised air, right? He spun the dial round to and sat back and closed his eyes, waiting to be soothed by a blanket of hot air.
He opened one eye, checking to see if he'd done it right, he couldn't feel the heat blowing from the heater in front of him, he sat forward and fiddled with the grate above the glove compartment, realising it had been switched off he flicked it on, a blue plume of shimmering dust that was anything but warm slowly flooded the van.
"Howard, why's the van coughing up blue stuff?"
"What're you talking about?"
"Look." Vince said pointedly, they both gazed at the cloud before slumping in their seats, dead.
"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Naboo sighed, his tea leaves had spelled out: Vince and Howard stuck somewhere outside London, set off poisoned gas alarm, both dead, await their arrival. At the bottom of his mug (It was a very large mug)
"Master Naboo, what's wrong?" Bollo grunted.
"Those Ball bags took the van, and set of the poisonous gas I installed as a new alarm system, they're dead."
"What does this mean?"
"Bad Ju Ju." Naboo nodded expertly.
"How did we get back to the flat so quick?" Howard asked, looking around their porch.
"I'm not too sure, but all this seems quite familiar." Vince said, nodding, his face wracked with thought.
"So this happens to you every day does it sonny Jim?"
"It was in a film."
"A film, what film?"
Vince gulped, "…Beetlejuice."