Shaman Secrets - A Mighty Boosh Fanfic

The Customer

Hi guys. Uh, I’ve recently become completely addicted to the Mighty Boosh. And I found out there aren’t many (by which I mean there is one) NabooxSaboo stories. So, at my sister’s request, I decided to write one myself.

The bell rang as a new customer came in the shop. Howard looked up from ‘Stationary Village,’ while Vince glanced up from his newest issue of Cheek-Bone.  They glanced over the new customer and swapped looks.

‘Well I’m not taking him,’ Vince’s eyes read.

‘Why do I always have to take the nutbags?’ Howard asked back.

Vince rolled his eyes and looked back at the customer. “Uh, hi. Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Naboo.”

“Uh, right. Well he’s not here right now, so if you leave a message…”

“I must speak to Naboo,” the man repeated.

“Yeah, well, he’s not here right now,” Vince repeated angrily. “But if you leave a message-”

“Uh, is there a problem here?” Howard said, finally moving away from his ridiculous Stationary Village to help.

“Yes, I’m looking ­for Naboo.”

“Right, well he’s out right now,” Howard began explaining.

“This is important,” the man hissed.

“Right now, sir.” Howard began. “Naboo isn’t here.”

“As I have heard. Regardless I must speak to Naboo.”

“Now listen sir, it just isn’t possible.” Howard said. Vince nodded.

The man frowned. “Where is he then?”

“What?” Vince chimed in.

“Where. Is. Naboo?”

“Well he’s gone, isn’t he? Buggered off somewhere.” Vince replied.

“Where?” The man asked impatiently.

“Shaman business,” Howard informed him.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Oh really?”

“Yes ‘really’,” Vince mimicked.

“That’s what he told you then?”

“That’s what he told us,” Howard confirmed.

The man scowled. “Naboo’s never been serious about his role as a shaman.”

“Oh, so you’re a shaman then, are you?” Vince asked skeptically.

“I am actually.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes really.”

“Really really?”

“Enough!” Howard said.

Both men backed off.

“Well, that explains the clothes then,” Vince muttered as he looked over the man’s clothes. Not that he had anything against the man’s clothes. It was interesting – but the whole dark cowboy look was so last month. Apparently this guy didn’t get the memo.

“You two are bickering like children.” Howard said. “Attack of the fashion-addled men. And Naboo takes his role very seriously,” he added as an afterthought.

“He may take his role seriously,” the man replied quickly. “But he knows nothing of the crunch.”

“The crunch?” Vince said. “What’s that?”

The man was about to reply when Howard cut in. “The crunch? Wait a minute – I met you before, didn’t I?”

“Maybe.” The man said with a shrug.

“Yeah, yeah, I did. You hit me with a purse!”

“Did I?” the man asked confused.

Howard opened his mouth to respond, then thought better of it, and shook his head. “Listen, Naboo’s not here. Come back some other time.”

“Oh, I will.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“Good.”

“Good then.”

The man then turned and stalked out of the shop.

Vince gave Howard a smile. “What was that then?”

“What was what?” Howard asked absently as he straightened his top.

“That.”

“That what?”

“You were vicious.” Vince praised.

“I was not.”

“You were. You were in there, like a wolf. Or a cheetah. Rah. You know, I met a cheetah once. It was nice. We had tea and everything.”

“You’re a strange little man Vince.”

“I’m a sunshine child,” Vince corrected him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Howard said, rolling his eyes as he walked back to fix up his Stationary Village.

“I mean it though!” Vince said, following Howard over. “You were good.”

Howard looked at him disbelievingly. “You need to get out more, you’re beginning to rot.”

“I can’t go out. You know that! It’s the latest fashion! Cheek-bone told me so. It’s the time to stay indoors – only the fashionless are going out nowadays.”

Howard sighed. “You and your fashions.”

“Yeah, what about them?”

Howard shook his head and decided that he wasn’t even going to bother complaining.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Vince said, walking back to the counter, and his magazine.

Howard rolled his eyes and began arranging his paper clips in order of colour.

There was a silence.

“I wonder what he wanted.” Vince said aloud.

“Huh?”

“That man. I wonder what he wanted.”

“I dunno, Vince. Probably Shaman business.”

“Huh.”

“Better not dwell on it,” Howard said.

“Mmm,” Vince said, casting one last look at the door, before returning and immersing himself into the wonderful world of Cheek-Bone.