The Mighty Boosh (2003– )
Vince Noir: [Vince and Howard are driving in a van. Vince holds up a cassette tape] This is the best of the sixties.
Vince Noir: [holds up another cassette] And this is the best of the seventies.
Vince Noir: [lifts a huge stack of cassettes] And this is Gary Numan.
Howard Moon: Eh, no. No way. I'm not having that. Absolutely not, I'm drawing a line on that. That's it.
Vince Noir: What? Why?
Howard Moon: I'm driving, it's my music we're having.
Vince Noir: Not Jazz!
Howard Moon: [lifts cassette] No. This my friend is Jazz Funk.
Vince Noir: Oh. The double? That's even worse!
Howard Moon: The mixture. The cerebral musicality of Jazz mixed with the visceral groove of funk.
Vince Noir: Funk?
Howard Moon: Imagine that.
Vince Noir: Funk?
Howard Moon: What a combo.
Vince Noir: Jazz' deformed cousin!
Bar lady: I like your dress...
Rudy: This is not a dress. This is a sacred robe of the ancient psychedelic monks.
Bar lady: Why don't you stay awhile?
[flashes to him]
Rudy: Put away those fiery biscuits...
Vince Noir: C'mon, Bollo, get your monkey anus at the steering wheel.
Bollo: Bollo no drive.
Vince Noir: You're joking. Why not?
Bollo: Bollo lose license.
Naboo: When did that happen?
Bollo: Long time ago. It was Chiko. As teenager we would drive about town together. My father warn us. No drive too fast for there are speed camera on A49 but Chiko crazy. He dangerous. He always say "Please, Bollo. Please let us go faster."
Vince Noir: Yeah, yeah so you chopped his head off right?
Bollo: No, I chopped his feet off. Stopped him pressing accelerator.
Howard Moon: I'm an explorer.
Vince Noir: I thought you were a writer?
Howard Moon: I do many things. I span the genres - they call me the genre spanner.
Vince Noir: Yeah, they call you the spanner...
[Howard and Vince have a meeting with a record executive]
Vince Noir: You better start getting the magic potions out, Mowgli, or we're gonna hurt you.
Naboo: All right, hang on.
[he hands them each a glass of yellow liquid]
Naboo: This is Liquid Music.
Howard Moon: What's in it?
Naboo: The tears of Mozart...
[they both drink it down]
Naboo: ...mixed with the urine of Mark Knopfler.
[Howard and Vince make a face]
Howard Moon: How long does it last?
Naboo: Three hours. Quick, you better hurry!
[they leave fast]
Bollo: Truly, Master, you are a wise man. Do you think they will succeed?
Naboo: Don't think so - that was Lucozade.
Howard Moon: I don't accessorize. I'm Howard Moon. There's a simple truth to me.
Howard Moon: Vince, you've gone wrong.
Vince Noir: I am the Chosen One. I have the amulet.
Howard Moon: Yeah, well maybe it's time I had the amulet for a bit.
Vince Noir: You don't accessorise. There's a simple truth to you.
Howard Moon: Give me the amulet, you bitch!
The Hitcher: Aagh! It hurts! It burns! You've liquified me, you slags!
Vince Noir: [grabbing book] Look at this one!
Naboo: Don't touch that!
Vince Noir: All right! Easy!
Naboo: This is black magic. This is hardcore. Don't mess with the occult.
Vince Noir: I thought it was good for you.
Vince Noir: Well, you know, good for your digestive system.
Naboo: That's Yakult!
Vince Noir: Oh, yeah...
Old Gregg: What do you think of me?
Howard Moon: I don't rightly know, Sir.
Old Gregg: Make an assessment.
[Vince and Howard have been buried up to their necks and left for dead in the desert]
Vince Noir: Howard? You think it's going to be alright?
Howard Moon: No. We're gonna die in the most horrific way known to man.
[sighs in resignation]
Vince Noir: [smiling] Had some good times, though, didn't we?
Howard Moon: Yeah...
Vince Noir: Huh... yeah...
Howard Moon: [wistfully] Remember the time we had that soup?
Vince Noir: That was brilliant.
[they start singing]
Vince Noir: ...chili chowder!
[they stop singing]
Vince Noir: Classic times.
Howard Moon: [shaking his head] Crazy days...
Howard Moon: Where did you get those sunglasses from?
Vince Noir: A passing Coyote took pity on me.
Howard Moon: Took pity on you did he? He took a piss on me!
Vince Noir: I think in his own simple way he was trying to cool you down.
Bob Fossil: I have a problem. It's to do with the little man, the squashed-in French man, the naked little squashed up hairy boy! You know! With the hand feet
[shakes his hands to demonstrate]
Bob Fossil: The brown little hand foot man.
Howard Moon: The gorilla.
Bob Fossil: Yer!
Lead Shaman: Tony has a gift for strategy.
Saboo: A gift for strategy?
Tony Harrison: That's right. I'm a unique thinker.
Saboo: Right, let us hear one of Tony Harrison's strategm's
Lead Shaman: Come on, Tony, don't let me down.
Tony Harrison: I say we, move, er, with haste, we retrieve that book, we fetch it back
Tony Harrison: in a bag,
Tony Harrison: quite quickly.
Lead Shaman: Oh, dear.
Tony Harrison: Just give me five minutes, I can come up with something else. I only need pen and paper, and someone to
Tony Harrison: write down my ideas.
Saboo: [to Tony] You are a knob.
Vince Noir: Goth Juice... The most powerful hairspray known to man. Made from the tears of Robert Smith.
Vince Noir: Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard?
Howard Moon: This better be good.
Vince Noir: You know the black bits in bananas, are they tarantulas' eggs?
Howard Moon: Please don't speak to me ever again in your life.
Howard Moon: Just imagine the headlines 'Howard Moon, Colon, Explorer'. Got a ring to that don't it?
Vince Noir: Colon Explorer?
Howard Moon: You know what I saying.
Vince Noir: I think that's got the wrong ring to it.
Vince Noir: What was that?
Howard Moon: Owls.
Vince Noir: What, pretending to be wolves?
Howard Moon: They're very good mimics.
Vince Noir: What?
Howard Moon: Look, don't worry about wolves, ok? I know how to deal with them. If a wolf approches, you simply punch it on the nose.
Vince Noir: That's sharks, innit!
Howard Moon: Works for any animal.
Howard Moon: Women would swoon when Tommy shuffled into a room. It was a different aesthetic then. Only a fashionable androgeny in Tommy's day. He was a man's man. I mean, look at you,
Howard Moon: feather cut, the pointy features. Put you in the '50s, you'd be imprisoned for being a witch. They'd lock you in a trunk!
Vince Noir: Calm a llama down.
Howard Moon: Calm a llama down.
Vince Noir, Howard Moon: Deep down in the ocean blue like a barnacle/ Sitting in a tight place/ Laughing like a monkey arm/ Pulling like a China boy/ Carraway carraway carraway noise/ Boing, chika masala/ Boing, chika masala/ oh tooth tooth/
[suck in air]
Vince Noir: [to locksmith] You haven't seen my mate Howard, have you? Kinda tall, scruffy hair, small eyes like a crab?
Tommy Nooka: [singing] Cheese is a kind of meat/ A tasty yellow beef./ I milk it from my teat./ But I try to be discrete./ Oh cheese!/ O cheese!
Vince Noir: [Tommy repeats song] Is that your hero?
Howard Moon: Yeah, he's gone a bit wrong.
Vince Noir: I'm going to stick with Jagger.
[Tommy begins beatboxing]
Tommy Nooka: [to Howard Moon] Stop! Stop! I am too old. You and your wife must go without me.
Howard Moon: Don't kill me, I've got so much to give!
Vince Noir: Seriously though, you should check out my icey wardrobe.
Howard Moon: What, the human Coke can?
Vince Noir: This is the glam rock ski suit!
Howard Moon: The arctic has no respect for fashion, Vince. You know, never take the tundra lightly. It can drive a man insane. You know what it is about this place, that gets people mad?
Vince Noir: Not really.
Howard Moon: Have a look through there, what do you see?
Vince Noir: [looks through binoculars] Nothing.
Howard Moon: Exactly. It's the nothingness... the whiteness... the endless... ness. Stretching on beyond the human imagination. Desolation of the soul. Oh my Gooooooooooood!
Howard Moon: Ice flow, nowhere to go / Ice flow, nowhere to go / Lost in the blinding whiteness of the tundraaaaaa / Check him out.
Howard Moon: They call him the shrew! Arms in short, then with the claw!
Vince Noir: I'm little Johnny Frostbite, moving around / Freezing you up, freezing you down / Like an icicle / Coming in your tent in the pink light, scissorbite/
Vince Noir: Infinite night!
Howard Moon: Call me Tundra Boy / Cause I move like an arctic
Howard Moon: When the blizzard strikes / I disappear like a pipe dream
Howard Moon: On a tent peg
Vince Noir, Howard Moon: Boosh, Boosh / Stronger than a moose / Don't lock your door or we'll come through your rooftop / Stop, look around, take your mind off the flow / Cause the Boosh is loose / And we're a little bit raaaaw! /Ice flow, nowhere to go / Ice flow, nowhere to go / Lost in the blinding whiteness of the tundraaaa!
Howard Moon: ...yeah?
Vince Noir: All right! Proved your point, in song format!
Howard Moon: Yeah, well maybe you'll take this place a bit more seriously now.
[gets hit in the face with a snowball]
The Moon: When you are the moon, there is a person people say is the sun. I saw the sun once, and he came past me, really fast. And it was an, it was called, the, an eclipse. And he came fast! But as he came past, I, I licked his back.
[sticks out tongue]
The Moon: And he doesn't know I licked his back! All in his yellow suit!... I'm the moon.
The Moon: When you are the moon, the best form you can be is a full moon. And then the half moon... he's all right. But the full moon is the famous moon. And then three-quarters, eh, no one gives a shit about him. When does he come, two days in, to the calendar month? He's useless. Full moon. The moon. The main moon.
The Moon: One time, I saw a man looking at me, yes, with his eyes. And then, he, he picked up a tube. And he looked, in the tube, and he made the moon big, inside the tube. The moon big inside a tube!
Vince Noir: C'mon, Howard, let's get out of here.
Howard Moon: Stop tugging at my mink!
Vince Noir: Mink? That's a bit off, isn't it? You're supposed to be a zookeeper.
Howard Moon: Yeah, well, it's a different law in the tundra, Vince. It's kill or be killed.
Vince Noir: What, by a mink?
Howard Moon: They get very big out here.
[gesturing at floor-length mink coat]
Howard Moon: This whole thing is just one mink.
Vince Noir: That's not right. I know, I read a pamphlet.
Howard Moon: So? I once glanced at a hedge. What's your point?
Vince Noir: No, it was a mink pamphlet. "Minky Monthly". There were millions of them on the front, dancing around. It said that it takes about ninety mink just to make a small ladies glove.
Howard Moon: That's 'cause they're really crap at sewing.
Howard Moon: [into tape recorder] Howard Moon's journal, day four. Many men have searched for the egg of Mantumbi. Many have failed. One man shall succeed. And I, Howard Moon, shall be that man.
Howard Moon: [gets hit in the face with snowball]
Vince Noir: [laughs]
Howard Moon: Stop doing that!
Vince Noir: What?
Howard Moon: It's not funny.
Vince Noir: It's hilarious!
Howard Moon: It isn't! Do it again, and I'll come at you like a buzzard.
Vince Noir: Come on, Howard, let's go, it's not 'round here.
Howard Moon: Stop tugging me mink! I'm not going anywhere. The egg is around here, I can sense it.
Vince Noir: Did you say mink?
Howard Moon: Yeah.
Vince Noir: That's not very P.C, is it? You're supposed to be a zookeeper!
Howard Moon: This is the arctic, Vince. Different rules apply out here, you know? It's kill or be killed.
Vince Noir: What, by a mink?
Howard Moon: ...They get very big out here, the mink. This is just one mink, this whole outfit.
Vince Noir: No way.
Howard Moon: It's true!
Vince Noir: No way! I read a pamphlet!
Howard Moon: So? I once looked at a hedge. What's your point?
Vince Noir: It was a mink pamphlet. Mink Monthly, there were loads of 'em, on the front. Said in there, it takes about nine, eight mink to make a small ladies' glove.
Howard Moon: That's because they're really crap at sewing.
Vince Noir: [Vince laughs]
Howard Moon: You like that?
Vince Noir: That's quite good, yeah.
Howard Moon: The wind is my only friend.
Wind: [whistling] I hate you.
Howard Moon: I want to be the greatest Jazz player in Yorkshire.
The Spirit of Jazz: Yorkshire? What is Yorkshire?
Howard Moon: Yorkshire is a place. Yorkshire is a state of mind.
The Spirit of Jazz: Every time you pick up an instrument, I'll be there inside ya, wearing ya like a glove!
The Spirit of Jazz: Ow! My hat's on fire! What's wrong with you? You blind? Why didn't ya tell me?
Howard Moon: Sorry, I thought that was your look
Howard Moon: You used to be a zookeeper, this is where your heart was. What about the zoo?
Vince Noir: [bleeped] F*** the zoo
Howard Moon: [shocked] What did you say?
Vince Noir: [bleeped] I said, f*** the zoo
Howard Moon: I can't believe you're saying that. What about the animals?
Vince Noir: [bleeped] F*** the animals! They're all a bunch of w******!
Johnny Two Hats: I'm Johnny Two Hats, why do you think they call me that?
Vince Noir: Is it because you've got two hats on?
Johnny Two Hats: Bingo
The Spirit of Jazz: I'm gonna creep inside you like a warm kitten!
Vince Noir: Who are you?
Rudy: I go by many names...
Vince Noir: Well, what are they?
Rudy: I'm getting round to that in my own sweet mystical time. Some call me Shatoon, bringer of corn. Others call me Mickey Nine, the dream weaver. Some call me Photoshop. Others call me Trenu, the boiler...
[fades out, then back in]
Rudy: Some call me Marjorie Keek. Others call me Captain Maj...
[fades out, then back in]
Rudy: Others call me R-R-Rubbady Pubbady
Vince Noir: Look, I haven't really got time for this
Vince Noir: Are you going to tell me your real name?
Rudy: My name is Rudy. Rudy Van Der Saniei, Jazz fusion guitarist.
Vince Noir: The tie's a multi purpose accessory, y'know, belt, school boy, Rambo.
Old Gregg: Under closer inspection I realised it was a funky ball of tits from outer space.
The Moon: Here's a poem, from the Moon. Neil Armstrong, walking on my face / Buzz Aldrin, walking on my face / And the third one is a space man, walking on my face / All on the surfaces, and they're looking at all of the stuff that the moon has got./
The Moon: Yeah.
Howard Moon: Kodiak! It's me, Howard Moon, we spoke on the phone this morning.
Kodiak Jack: The what?
Howard Moon: The telephone...
Kodiak Jack: Ohh, the talky stick! Your voice was trapped in there this morning.
Naboo: What's in it for me?
Dixon Bainbridge: I don't know. How about I throw in a Kit Kat?
The Moon: He's so bright and milky white / Shining down upon the ground / He's the bright, milky white / Shining down upon the ground / Everybody look at the moon / Everybody seein' the moon / The moon is bright / He's milky white / Everybody look at the moon / Uh!
The Moon: Heey! I did a song! Jupiter, I did a song! You ain't got one! Heey!
The Moon: Oh, I feel sick.
Lucien: You should never go out on Black Lake when the moon be full.
Vince Noir: Why?
Lucien: Because there's somethin' out there... somethin' evil... somethin' that goes by the name of Old Gregg...
Vince Noir: ...who?
Lucien: Ol' Gregg. Legendary fish. Some say he's half man, half fish. Others say it's more of a seventy-thirty split. Whatever the percentage, he's one fishy bastard.
Colin: Some say he's a ghost. Can't catch what don't exists. Hook goes right through 'im.
Lucien: Some say he's acquired the taste of human meat, won't respond to conventional bait. Only way to hook him is to use a child's toe.
The Moon: And some say, Old Gregg is like a, a big fish finger, but big! Like um, like a garage. As big as a garage. Imagine that fish finger, when you can see it is as big as a garage, oh! It isn't small, it's the big one! Like that.
Various: [Repeated line, while being killed hideously] A little to the left!