Hieronymus Boosh

The Second Level
Season Finale

formerly: AnitaLife

Twitter: GrandEclectus

Fandom: The Mighty Boosh
January 29, 2010
Ongoing series. WIP

This section is dedicated to Jane who gave me the will to continue. Thanks for your amazing review and for understanding this bit of insane fic.

Thanks also to my Booshie friends at Twitter! xoxoxox

Notes and disclaimer: Just fan fic. Not for connection to the actual Mighty Boosh. Completely NON-slash.

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"Then Again" finished a rousing set with ringing chords that garnered applause from the crowd. Large groups of appreciative listeners always gravitated toward their unusual sounds. Doo Wop, leading to Scat. Crimping interspersed with the Name Game song. Scat evolving into Doo Wop. The crowds were mesmerized.

Howard still had the nagging feeling he was being "watched", but the accolades and acceptance pushed the notion out of his mind. Of course, he was indeed being regarded from on high, scrutinized by forces he could not begin to comprehend.

Howard was getting antsy about locating Vince, but assumed that his mate was safe and with his new lady friends. He would be the center of attention as always. Howard had visions of Vince laying on silken tuffets, sipping Sapphire Sours with candied orange slices and being fussed over by a bevy of beautiful women, willing to serve his every need. The berk. Howard did not know how right he was, but how wrong it was for Vince who was getting all those things, but only because he was on the menu.

Howard was still striving to get some cash ahead to try to get them back home. Barring that he could at least earn enough so that they could to the casino—together this time—to win the money the instructions seemed to imply that they would. He needed Vince for that. He did not want to be chided again by another creepy communication from the mystifying inscriptions. Once was quite enough of that, he thought.

Most of all, Howard was just enjoying himself. He had done some gigs with Vince, but the response was limited. After the Velvet Onion Crimp Off, the über-trendy audience soon became bored with their weekly chants. Once he and Vince had fallen out of favor with the hipsters—well, crimping was so 5 seconds ago— the Flighty Zeus vanished as quickly as they had reared their look-alike heads, so it was not as if he and Vince had that competition any longer.

But this…this response from a crowd was heady and exciting. They liked him. They really liked him, Howard TJ Moon and they liked his scatting. He was essential to the group's new success. Could this be "it"? Could this finally be his big chance at stardom?

It was decided that he would join "Then Again" at their performance that evening, opening for The Cavalcade of Doo Wop. The line-up included Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, The Capri's, The Dupree's, The Tokens, Kenny Vance and the Planatones, Norman Fox and the Rob Roys, and Johnny Maestro and the Brooklyn Bridge and a host of others. "Quiet Storm" was going to be there as well, a new group who were "keepin' da sound alive".

Howard was elated about the acceptance he was getting from the "Jersey boys" as they jokingly called themselves.

"Frankie and da Seasons Four…they still da originals," Joe told him. "Accept no substitutes from Broadway."

"Ah, lighten up Joey," Andy shot back. "These kids today need that to get them to the good stuff. So they got Frankie winkin' at Gaudio. Big deal."

"Sacrilege!" Joe insisted jokingly.

The group donned their glittery costume suits that they would be wearing that evening. Each outfit was a different color from the 1950's palette. Foam Green, Sky Blue, Peach Melba, Lemon Yellow, Lavender and Howard wore '57 Cadillac Pink. Howard could not believe he was wearing sequins. He missed his cords, but hey, this was showbiz. He felt more comfortable in this than in some of the weird get ups that Vince foisted upon him. No Camden Leisure Pirates tonight.

As they sang Howard and the boys noticed a group of unbelievably beautiful young ladies sidling up through the crowd. The guys loved the rapt attention from the beauties and Howard felt his chest swell with pride.

"Oh ye-ahh," he congratulated himself. "Howard Moon has not lost the golden touch."

At a break the girls started gushing over them. Would they like to have a drink with them? Before they knew it they were strolling down the boardwalk, a girl or two for each of them.

"I'm a married guy," Andy objected at first.

"So am I," Gilly said. "It's just a drink."

Howard had been straggling behind the group, enjoying to the female attention to the Nth degree. He could not believe it. He had found two very beautiful young ladies who were avid jazz fans and hung on his every word. What a stroke of luck. They listened with rapt attention as he discussed chord structures, histories of Jazzmen and characteristics of what made for a good solo on slap bass. Howard was enjoying the sound of his own voice so much, he did not see the two girls mugging at each other, laughing behind his back.

Howard's hopes of finding Vince leaped up when he saw the club again. Delighted that he could find Vince at last, he burst ahead toward the smallish sign which read: "The Hive-a-Way". The club's building appeared to have a large fiberglass beehive as a roof, like a Bee Cathedral. It seemed to be lit from within, an odd green light that glowed and pulsed to a regular rhythm. Howard had no idea why he could not find such a monument before, but he was glad to see it now.

Howard's abrupt burst was quite a lucky move since unbeknownst to him, a golf cart careened toward him with murderous intent. Howard barely noticed the vehicle until the resounding "crack" and the commotion that ensued when it ran into a pole, flung off the Boardwalk into the sand then exploded in flames.

But, flaming golf carts were of little interest to Howard who could not wait to get inside to see if Vince was still there or if someone there knew where he had gone. He soon got his wish. After a couple of strong drinks for each guy, the group was thrust into the Queen's chamber.

They all gasped when they saw Polly Headra looming above a very nonchalant Vince. Howard's friend was be-decked in the black crystal beaded costume trimmed with ebony ostrich feathers, Priscilla Queen of the Desert gone Goth. He lolled languorously on a silken draped amorphous couch. The creature drew nearer to Vince, her appendages encircling his small, thin frame. She looked as if she was about to take a bite out of him.

"Get away from him, you bitch!" Howard yelled. He surprised himself with his brazen verbal attack. He tried to run, but his limbs did not go with him.

"It's OK Howard," Vince said slowly. "She's my friend."

"Your wah?" Howard's voice cracked. "That thing is your friend?"

The group stared at the tableaux before them. They were as puzzled by Vince as they were by the creature.

"Vince?" Gill asked. "Funny name for a girl."

"Yo, Howie, you didn't tell us Vince was your chick."

"She hung over?" Louie asked.

"Eeesh!" said Joe quietly. "I guess love is blind, eh fellas?"

"Woo wee, ya got that right," Louie replied. "Dat is one homely woman! Can she cook?"

"Guys, I'm not so sure that's a girl," Andy said.

"I'm not so sure I care," said butch Larry in the lavender suit, which caused the group to stare at him.

"Take these fools to the chamber, and prepare them as nourishment to the hive!" Headra commanded. "Bring me the blood of the symbiote Harold!"

The personnel of "Then Again" proved no match against the inhuman strength of Headra's henchgirls. The group was easily whisked away with only a small scuffle and a few muffled screams as Howard watched in horror.

Vince bopped up from his recumbent position and sauntered over to Howard, who was holding his head and feeling the full effect of the powerful Royal Jelly.

"Glad you could make it, Howard. I was worried about you."

"You have a funny way of showing it. Vince, what's going on? What is that thing?"

"Howard, I want you to meet my new lady friend, Polly."

"Your who?"

"Polly is a Hive Queen from another planet. I'm going to be the father of a new race and we're planning world domination," Vince laughed and put his fists to his hips. "Imagine that."

"Vince, she's a monster…"

"Shhh! Be quiet, Howard! Don't hurt her feelings. She's just big exo-skeletoned*."

"Vince, what's going on here?"

"I thought you would be happy for me. I get to wear this genius outfit. Looks like a Mackie. She made it herself from her own secretions. She's very talented." Vince stepped back and posed for Howard's benefit while the crystal beads swished and clinked together as they moved.

Howard was trying to piece the whole mess together through the haze of the drinks he had been given. Fifteen minutes ago he was on the Boardwalk, scatting for the life of him, making money and feeling great. Now he was staring at his best mate who was in the clutches of an over-grown insect with a hundred faces and a penchant for garish fashion. Ever the glowing optimist, Vince seemed oblivious to his own plight. The concepts swirled around in Howard's brain: Hive Queen from another planet? World domination? Apparel made from body secretions? That could not be hygienic.

"Vince, you're not in your right mind!" Howard said.

"Who were those guys, Howard?" Vince asked.

"Ah…they're my…," Howard hesitated guiltily, as if he were found cheating on his wife. "They're my group."

Vince's smile dropped and he slowly blinked in disbelief. "Wah? You're in a band? Without me?"

"I was going to bring you in," Howard conceded, "as one of the backup singers."

"Backup? One of?" Vince said indignantly. "No way Howard! I'm the dynamic front man. You know that."

"Well, I just don't think you'd fit in with them."

"Don't be ridiculous, Howard," Vince slighted. "I fit in with everyone who's cool and people in bands are cool."

"They…We do 50's music. With scat," Howard shot as if he were ripping a bandage as fast as he could to reduce the pain.

Vince looked as if he'd been struck by a gigantic pair of wet lederhosen, had a raft of rubber duckies dumped on his head and eaten several bowls of rather crusty potato salad. His mouth hung open.

"You could NOT… have just said… '50's' music, Howard." Vince arched his back and shook his head away as if he could exorcise the idea away.

"And we've got a show tonight," Howard winced with guilt. "It's going well. People really like what we're doing. I'm scatting. We're even using crimps. I've been making a lot of money on the Boardwalk, even though the money split six ways." Howard's voice trailed off.

Vince shook his head and pursed his lips. He was hurt and disgusted.

"Vince, it's the New Sound we'd been looking for."

Vince started to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth. He could not believe what he was hearing. Howard had joined a musical group. Without him. Crimping with other people? Making money? Without him! And it was 50's music. It was too horrible to contemplate.

"Howard, you know how I feel about this," Vince said, rolling his eyes. "There is only one thing in the universe worse than Jazz," Vince said softly, the emotion so low in his chest.

"I know you think that, Vince, but…"

"The only thing that's immeasurably worse than Jazz…I can't even say it. It's the unspeakable. I never even allow myself to think of it." Vince heaved a shaking sigh.

"You're ridiculous," Howard said. "I'm finally having some success…"

"Wait!" Vince said hopefully, a giant grin returning to his face. "This is a joke, right? You're getting me back for something I did."

"Why? What did you do?"

"Well, I…" Vince went through a list in his mind, but held back from volunteering anything.

"Vince don't you see? It was meant to be. I'm finally making it big! In America!"

"Ahhh," Vince groaned. "Fine," he pronounced with disgust. "But don't come crawling to me when you fall on your face."

"Oh yeah? Don't you worry about that, Sir."

"Oh really."

"I won't need you because I won't be falling on my face. Not this time!" Howard spat.

"Ha!"

"You can't stand seeing me have a little success, a little sugar for Howie baby. That's it, isn't it?"

"You're delusional!" Vince retorted. "Howie baby?" he echoed in disbelief.

"You're jealous!" Howard accused.

"You're insane!"

"You have always held me back. Stood in my way. Well not this time, Sir!" Howard said with certainty. "This time Howard Moon is going all the way."

"To the asylum!"

Polly Headra's curious face was observing the two men with the interest of a scientist studying amoebas in a petri dish. All around her were piles of tiny booties and her fore-claws were clicking wildly as she turned out her knitted product.

"Don't be long dear," Headra's sweet face requested. "We've got to begin the mating cycle and I'm getting a bit peckish."

"Right there, luv," Vince cooed.

"Jealous? Ha! As if!" Vince scoffed. "When we start the New World Order, I'll see that you and all your dreadful noise, Jazz and all, is wiped off the face of the planet."

"I'd like to see you try!"

"I'll do it. That clamour is only good for removing paint and unwanted varnish from decrepit furniture!"

"New World Order?" Howard asked.

"Yeah, you like it? That was my idea. Catchy branding."

"Original," Howard snarked. "I've had enough of you and your New World Order," Howard informed him. "So you and this big bug are taking over the Earth, is it? Don't make me laugh."

Vince sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Besides, there isn't going to be any World Domination for you, you idiot. Can't you see that?"

"What are you on about?"

"You never listen to the lectures, do you?" Howard said with annoyance. "Anyone can see she is clearly related to the order of Mantodea."

"Second cousins," Headra interjected quietly.

"Note the forelimbs, where she holds her prey."

"So? We'll have unusual in-laws."

"So…we just reviewed this last Thursday, Vince." Howard chided. "Mantodea, praying Mantis. She's a sexual cannibal."

"I don't mind that. I'm a bit kinky myself. I like to experiment."

"You'll be kinky when you're being digested. She's going to eat you, you tit!"

"Don't be absurd."

"Fine, let's say you're going to be King of Earth, as if that could happen. You couldn't run a popsicle stand!"

"This from a man with a trunk full of leftover elbow pads!"

"I'll autograph those and sell those easily at our gigs!" Howard insisted. "They'll be collectors' items."

"Right. All the rage on Ebay." Vince said with sarcasm. "And what are you wearing, Howard? You look like a strawberry Chuppa Chup."

"How dare you! You're a refugee from the House of de Sade."

"You wouldn't know haute couture if it hit you between your tiny eyes!"

"It always comes down to that with you, doesn't it? Clothes. Maybe the Fashion Police will get it right someday and catch up to me."

"As if!"

"Fashion: a fleeting pile of rubbish that has to keep changing from minute to minute because it's so awful. And you spend all your time trying to keep up with the trends. For what? I mean, who are you trying to impress?"

"I don't keep up with trends, Howard. I make trends!"

"I'll have you know Sir that this is the finest the old US of A has to offer a Doo Wop group member," Howard said proudly.

"Don't use that word!"

"What? Doo Wop?"

"I mean it, Howard!"

"Doo Wop. Doo Wop. Doo Wop. Doo Wop Doo Wop!"

"You are such a child!"

"I'm a child? You look like Peter Pan from Hell."

"Doo Wop. Doo Wah. Bum. Bum. Bum. Bum. Bum. Doo Wop…"

"Stop it!" Vince held his hands to his ears.

But it wasn't Howard who was "doo wopping". The sound came wafting through the cavernous hive.

Headra's most annoyed looking face swung around in indignation, and her servants rushed to her side.

"What is that dreadful noise?" she demanded. "What is the meaning of this? Guards!"

The sounds grew louder and louder as "Then Again" marched out of the belly of the food chamber.

"Great big pizza pie Ay yi yi yi ya yi yi, Ay pizza…wella wella wella," the lead sang belting out the Rob Roy's novelty record.

Suddenly Polly Headra stabbed out a bitter screech, her many limbs flailing around. Her heads spun over one another like a bowling ball revealing a blur of anguished features. Every one of her faces reflected the same shock and agony. Her legs lashed out and tore down the curtains surrounding her to reveal her enormous segmented body.

The high floating tenor voice echoed and pierced the corridors. "Ooo ooo ooo eee eee eee ahh ahhhh…"

The bass sound rumbled through the hive's structure and the walls began to vibrate. "Bah bah bah bah, bop bah bah bah bah…"

Vince could make out the familiar sound of "Soup, soup a tasty carrot and coriander…" but the other tones made him feel like he would burn up. He clutched his ears, doubled over and fell to the floor. The Royal Jelly that coursed through his veins had taken over his body and mind. It made the Doo Wop so much more painful.

The other Worker girls began running into the chamber in confusion, looking to Polly Headra who was writhing in pain. The Workers and Drones began to pour out of their chambers and head to the front Club as if the hive had been flooded with a toxic substance, and to them, it had. Many of them were clutching their heads and desperately seeking the exit. Each step shot pain through their limbs.

Howard heard his cue in a song they had been doing then began to scat as the personnel of "Then Again" came walking into the room, singing as loud as they could.

"Well Howie, we thought if we was gonna die, we might as well go out singin'," Andy shouted, then got back into the mix.

"Them crazy broads just fell over and we got free. Who knew? No appreciation for the great sounds," Gilly said with disgust.

"Did you hear that echo?" Larry asked with elation. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about!"

Howard joined in to strengthen the "Vinny, Vinny, bo binny, banana fanny fo finny mee my mo Minny, Vinny…" section. Howard shouted "Polly" and a Name Game rhyme was made from her name. It sent the giant Queen into more throws of pain.

Howard saw that Vince was clearly suffering, but it had to be done.

"Bop shu doop doo wah. Skiddly oop ip pah da da da ah da. Shooby doobie doop," Howard attacked without mercy.

Polly Headra seemed to be shrinking, her great exoskeleton collapsing in places like a plastic soda bottle being crumpled by a child. Suddenly her thorax arched upward and she turned over on her back. Her many limbs clutched at the air like an upturned beetle as if she could fend off the sounds. All of her faces continued to reflect the great distress she felt.

The hive was falling apart, disintegrating all around them. The walls melted, gushing putrid liquids and the structure beams began to collapse like bones in stew.

They had happened upon the one and only way to defeat this alien menace: a lethal combination of Doo Wop, Scat, Crimping and the Name Game. Nothing alien could live through that. Nothing.

Parliament would have to be informed. Howard TJ Moon would take credit for the discovery of course. He would be heralded as the man who saved Earth from the Alien Menace from Outer Space. Howard imagined the ticker tape parade, meeting the Queen of England, shaking the hand of President Obama, receiving medals and honorariums. Then the Nobel Prize.

A large organic mass splashed down next to him and broke him from his reverie.

"We've got to get out of here!" Howard shouted at the group.

"D'ya think?" Larry shouted back. "Go get your girlfriend!"

Howard ran to Vince who was delirious with the sounds. He scoped him up and carried him like Kevin Costner holding Whitney Houston on the poster for "The Body Guard". He felt very heroic as he and the boys dashed toward the entrance.

Vince was small but sinewy, his muscle mass made him heavier than he looked. His writhing made it difficult for Howard to manage. Howard held tight. He felt Vince go limp, caused from the sound he had just experienced. If Jazz caused Vince to suffer anaphylactic shock, this new sound seemed to invoke seizures.

They managed to get to the boardwalk, their colorful suits covered in glop. Drones and Workers followed in their wake and scattered to the sea.

"Looks like we brought down the house," Gilly quipped. "How's your…ah…friend, Howie?"

Vince was limp, lying on a bench on the Boardwalk. He looked more pale than usual.

"Vince! Wake up!" Howard said loudly as he patted Vince's face.

Vince's make-up was smeared all over his face and down his neck. His glittery suit managed to survive, but the feathers were matted with melted hive matter, as if a barrel of Metamucil had been poured over him.

Large quantities of ugly green and yellow glop oozed out of the hive and gushed onto the Boardwalk and beach.

"Come on, Vince!" Howard nearly shouted as he tried to revive the boy with pats to his face. "Don't do this. Vince!"

Howard was beginning to fear the worst. Vince was limp, unresponsive. Was he even breathing?

Howard fearfully felt for a pulse, but could not feel anything.

"No! Vince!" Howard shouted. These few moments felt like hours and Howard was barely aware that Larry had shoved him aside and began to perform CPR on Vince.

Howard staggered back. He felt like he was submersed in a tub of oatmeal. Had he killed him? Had he killed his best mate?

Under the care of Larry, the cop, Vince began to sputter and cough up some of the green glop. He cleared his throat and was able to sit up. Howard's relief shot through his body like ice water lightening.

"How…ard," he managed to rasp out.

"Vince, I'm here!"

"Howard."

"Yes?"

"I need you to promise me something," Vince whispered, his throat still burning from the ejection of the awful Royal Jelly he had been fed. He gasped in the ocean air.

"Anything, Vince! What is it?"

"Don't ever make those sounds again!"

The group groaned their annoyance.

"You berk!" Howard sighed in relief.

Howard was in a dilemma. He had promised his talents for the evening at least and they both desperately needed the money. But Vince had nearly died because of the lethal combination of Doo Wop, Scat, Crimping and the Name Game.

"I have an idea…" Larry said.

Howard looked up and realized that there was further commotion going on. His focus had been on Vince and the rest of the world was now rushing at him.

Several military helicopters had whisked onto the scene and black-suited Special Ops men were rappelling to the area like Starship Troopers. Other ground support vehicles in the form of several large trucks flanked the hive. Another team of men in white HazMat suits began swarming the wreckage.

"We better get out of here," Andy yelled to the boys.

Before they could leave, a group of Special Ops apprehended them at gun point and hurried them to a chopper.

"I destroyed the hive. Me alone. Howard TJ Moon," Howard tried to tell them over the noise, but the sound of helicopters, trucks, a tank, as well as efficiently barked orders and battle cries drowned out his wan voice.

From within the tattered hive a horrific chorus of shrieks came forth. The military men readied their weapons, bazookas and flamethrowers. The men that had captured Howard, Vince and "Then Again" turned their attentions to the rampaging Queen that had emerged from the collapsing nest.

The military opened fire against her, but even in her weakened state, their weapons had little effect. The boys knew what they had to do. Her head spun and a most ghastly angry face came to the fore. Some of her heads were covered in white glop and looked dead. Others were screeching and some were absent, as if they had been melted away.

"Vince?" Howard asked as he cocked his head to the side. "You have to cover your ears, Little Man. This is a job for Howard TJ Moon and Doo Wop, Scat, Crimping and the Name Game."

"Shut up, you idiot and scat!" Vince shouted. Vince clamped his hands over his ears as he ran toward the ocean, trying to get away from Ground Zero.

Armed with the solid repertoire they had rehearsed for the show, "Then Again" featuring renowned scat singer Howard TJ Moon made their world premiere on the Boardwalk in Atlantic City, belting out a deadly serenade to a giant bug from another planet. Each song was broadcast across the globe by the fleet of press that had arrived on the scene who were undeterred by the military. A tourist woman held her phone up and captured images of Polly Headra as her final death rattle was emitted from her many throats. At that moment she smashed the Boardwalk's planks to splinters with her large failing claws.

Ms. Headra was no more.

Across the pond a tiny Shaman sat next to his new HD crystal ball, shaking his head in disgust.

"Bollo say, 'Harold mess up,'" his familiar reminded.

"This is a disaster," Naboo said quietly, his lack of emotions in stark contrast to the statement.

"Bollo miss reruns of Animal Planet over this."

That night Vince sat in the back of the concert, noise cancelling earphones on his head. He had to endure the possibility of his coif being disrupted, but even he had to acquiesce to the conditions. "Then Again" had Howard for one more night, but that was to be the end of Howard's Doo Wop days. Howard and Vince still needed the winnings to get home, which meant they go to a Roulette table at Caesar's Palace and follow the numbers on the paper. The pair not out of the fire quite yet, but for one evening Howard was a star and Vince was recovering from his brush with the multi-headed alien and worse, his nearly fatal ordeal with the most horrific music ever conceived.

tbc….

*The "big exo-skeltoned" joke is from MST3K. It was just too perfect.

This story is written as a serialization. There are 10 levels; this is the finale for the Second Level. You will see finales, but yes, each section leads the boys right to the next adventure. Section—Adventure. Ending—Adventure.

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If you're a slasher, please don't bother be offended by my opinions.