Disclaimer - I don't own Noel Fielding's Luxury Comedy, The Mighty Boosh or any characters involved. Copyright to Noel Fielding/Julian Barratt.
Ah, here we are, at the end of the story. This is just a nice way to finish it off, give Vince some time back home and a sort-of explanation of things. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed, and also reblogged on Tumblr. I love you all a bit~
Vince's return hadn't seemed to cause as much of a stir as he'd have liked. There could have been some sort of big celebration or something, but no, Howard wasn't really into the idea and Naboo said he had important shaman business to attend to (although that was normally just code for getting high). All he'd gotten was one full day off work. Pointless, really, since he never did much work to begin with.
Back in the shop now, Vince was sat in his usual spot by the window with a magazine in his lap as Howard attended to the actual work. Which mainly consisted of overly-thorough stock checks and reorganising Stationary Village.
It was a slow day.
The morning wore on into the afternoon and the door finally opened, making both men look up. Before them stood the Board of Shamen.
Maybe he does have important shaman business… Vince mused, Either that, or they're all gonna be off their tits in less than an hour…
Neither he nor Howard knew quite what to say in this situation. It wasn't exactly standard practice for the shamen to show up out of the blue for no apparent reason.
"Greetings, gentlemen," the Head Shaman spoke, "Would you be so kind as to tell us where we could find Naboo?"
Vince could feel his eyes on him. The last time they had talked hadn't gone so well, and he was getting more and more nervous the longer he was stood in the doorway. He and Howard both wordlessly pointed towards the staircase to the flat. The Head Shaman gave a short nod in thanks and led his cohorts upstairs. Howard looked over at Vince, who only raised his eyebrows and shrugged before going back to his magazine.
A few minutes later, Naboo, Bollo and the Board of Shamen were gathered in the lounge, indeed discussing important shaman business. The Head Shaman read aloud from Naboo's report.
"Our current world has been frozen in time in a state of limbo for roughly five years. However, shifts in time and space have been detected and have caused this world to dislodge and begin flowing again. Due to this shift, there has been a side effect in that the human known as Vincent Noir was temporarily transported to an adjacent dimension, wherein he inhabited the body of his alternate counterpart. While the cause of the shift is currently under debate, it seems to have been a reaction to a particularly jarring event in the life of another counterpart in another adjacent dimension."
All eyes turned to Saboo and Naboo frowned.
"What's your problem this time, eh? I've done my research, that's a valid argument."
"And how exactly did you come to that conclusion? There's no way you could know about what was going on in this imaginary third dimension."
"I cast my mind out," Naboo said sagely, "I formed a mind-link with my own counterpart in the second dimension. The connection wasn't all that great, didn't last long either, but I got a hold of a few recent memories of someone telling him what was happening. From that I could just connect the dots."
"Just connect the dots," Saboo mimicked childishly, "I think you'll find that a little more than just connecting the dots is required to justify making a claim like that."
"Oh, come off it, Saboo!" came the nasal tone of Tony Harrison, "He's done plenty o' work, he took a little look into a whole other world, you prick. You're just jealous he's had yet another run-in with the crunch."
"You shut y-"
"There is no need for fighting," the Head Shaman boomed and the two fell silent, "This is a completely sound and logical explanation and it does coincide with the data we already have on alternate dimensions. There are plenty of theories on interdimensional connections and communication," giving them one last stern look, he turned to Naboo, "Now, how is Vincent handling things?"
"Alright, I s'pose. He's coping well enough with being back. He don't remember much from the last couple of days, he keeps mentioning places and people none of us have heard of and he just drifts off sometimes, but it's not really any worse than usual, y'know. Give him another day or two and he'll be back to normal."
The meeting was soon drawn to a close and a car was heard pulling up outside. As the men made their way back downstairs, a woman stepped out of the car and stood waiting for her husband. As she did, she couldn't help but notice the small, dark-haired man sitting in the shop by the window. He looked up and their eyes met. She gave him a small smile and a wink as the shamen appeared at the bottom of the stairs and headed for the door.
Vince watched them go, staring after the Head Shaman's wife. Somehow, that wink hadn't seemed as suggestive as he might have expected after their last encounter. Not even the slightest bit flirty. Just… friendly.
Like they had known each other better.
He shook himself out of his daze and turned to Howard.
"Hey, it's just about closing time, yeah? I'm just gonna nick off now, going out tonight, catch up with some mates, y'know, I'll leave all the closing up to you."
He was already halfway up the stairs by the time he finished. Howard called out to him once but didn't show any sign of actually trying to get him to come back. Vince hurried into the bedroom and straight for his wardrobe. Rifling through and pulling out potential candidates for the night, he came across the sparkling mirrorball suit he so loved. He carefully took it out and ran his hand along the thousands of sequins, then paused.
"Whatever happened to the hood from this…?"