Jazz It Up Little Man

Jazz clubs are not thrilling for Vince Noir.







Length: words

Notes: My very first Boosh story.

Jazz It Up Little Man by bodysnatcherrrr

Good lord, everyone looks the same. Same horrid button up shirts, same terrible trousers, same ridiculous old men shoes. Same, same, same. Nothing different, except Vince.

The duo, Howard and Vince were currently at a jazz club, Howard smiling with his eyes closed while he foot tapped along to the blazing trumpet.

“Howard, this is utterly dreadful.” Groaned Vince, distaste flooding from his mouth.

“I ask nothing of you for the whole year Vince, just be here with me all right? It’ll be over before you know it.” Howard bargained, eyes opening a bit to stare at the glittery mess of a man next to him.

With a grumble Vince crossed his arms and sunk lower in his seat, trying to tune out the sound of the brass instruments raping his ears.

Not five minutes had passed before Vince was complaining yet again, “Howaaaard, there is no possible way this is music. It’s rubbish with old men in hats.”

Sighing Howard stood up, “Come on then, let’s leave if you hate it so much.”

“Thank the lord.” Vince smiled as he followed Howard’s lead and trotted out of the club behind him.

The wall back to Nabootique was painfully quiet to Howard, but not to Vince. He thought nothing of the silence and only put more swagger in his step to try and get back home faster to check on his hair, seeing as how Howard hadn’t allowed him a mirror, and surely no one in that building carried one by the looks of their selves.

As Howard unlocked the door Vince burst into the shop and dashed upstairs, checking and smiling. It was fine, not a lock out of place.

“Howard, wunna make some sweets?” Questioned Vince as he galloped down the stairs, stacked heels clicking against the carpet covered wood.

“No, Vince. I’d just like to read.”

“What? How can you not want to make sweets with me?! You always do. Please?”

“Maybe because you’re inconsiderate! All I’ve been talking about for the past two weeks is how I was looking forward to spending this night with you at the jazz club, but you couldn’t stick it out for even an hour. So just piss off, all right!” Howard boomed, slamming his book down and his foot steps fast and loud as he made his way to his bedroom.

“Wait, Howard, come back! Don’t be sore about it!”

“I said piss off Vince!” Howard bellowed back at him, slamming his door.

With all the ruckus Naboo and Bollo has made their way to Vince’s side, “What’s going on?” Came Naboo’s thick accent.

“Sounds like Vince and Henry are having a row.”

“Howard, Bollo. Not Henry.” Vince snapped, unset by the sudden mood swing Howard seemed to of taken.

“Look, Vince. You know how Howard can get all womanish some days. Just give him his time, eh?”

“No, Naboo. Even when Howard is moody he never yells at me. He yelled at me!” Vince spoke fast, hands flailing in the air as if he was signing his words to a deaf person.

“Naboo right. You should give him time.” Bollo concurred, gently patting Vince’s boney shoulder.

Ignoring the two’s comments Vince headed up the stairs and barged into Howard’s room, “Don’t be angry with me.”

“Do not for one second think that you can come in here and tell me what to do!No Sir! Not gunna happen! Get out!”

“Howard, just let me talk to you for one minute, please?”

“Vince, just get out.”

“No.” Protested Vince, “I’m not leaving. Look we can go back to that club. I won’t complain, I’m sorry.”

“No, I already know you hated it so why torture you with it.” Howard countered.

“Because you love it and I want you to be happy.”

With a scoff Howard smirked, “Why such the change of heart now? What do you want? I’m not giving you anything Vince.”

“I want nothing Howard, I swear. I want you to have what you want.”

“Really now? And what do you think I want?” Howard laughed, “Please, humor me and tell me what you think I want.”

With a stutter Vince started, “I think you-I think that you want for me to be there with you and genuinely have a good time just because it’s you that I’m with. You want for me to be as good of a friend to you as you are to me. You want me to not be selfish.”

Not being entirely sure of what to say Howard just stared at the carpet.

“Look Howard, I know I can be a down right twat, but you must know I care about you. You’re me best friend Howard and I love you. And if you want me to sit in a shitty jazz club with you then I will.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“I wouldn’t of said it if I didn’t.” Vince reassured.

Smiling Howard stood up and did something so unlike himself, he hugged Vince. Hugged him long and tight, “Thank you Vince.”

Vince didn’t acknowledge his words, only responded with, “Come on Howard, let’s go back to the club.”

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