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10 August 2007 @ 07:33 pm
fic: the crossover from monkey hell. (1/?)  
Title: The Crossover from Monkey Hell. (1/?)
Author: chibijelly
Rating: this chapter – PG.
Word Count: this chapter – 1,322.
Any Pairings?: Not really. Minor Nicholas/Danny, implied Nicholas/Martin.
Disclaimer: Please don’t kill me. I’ve got so much to give.

Overall Summary: Two ex-zookeepers from the city decide to take a holiday in the small village of Sandford. Little do they know that they’ve brought along a fishy evil so sinister that it leaves the entire police service baffled and a teensy bit scared for their sexlives. The men, anyway.

Notes: Thanks for all the motivation from that little community post, guys. ♥ Here’s a cracked-out crossover involving plenty of Hot Fuzz, plenty of The Mighty Boosh, and a little dash of Doctor Who. Since, you know, I abandoned my last crossover attempt months ago… Fucking finally is all I have to say about this.


"This is fucking ridiculous."

The tall and skinny man with feathered hair dyed black stood with his non-existent hip cocked, a hand sitting upon it. His pants were women's, his shirt extremely small and showing a bit of skin. Both were from Top Shop, of course. The sunglasses were huge and terribly mod. His hair, normally perfect, was showing signs of slight frizz thanks to the humid weather. Two bright red suitcases sat on the dull cobblestone street, one on either side of him. He hardly looked like a boy that belonged in the country. In fact, he hardly looked like a boy at all.

There was a green van parked behind him. Another man was climbing out from the driver's side.

"You said you wanted to go on holiday, so here we are," the climbing man said in an irritated tone, shutting the door after hopping onto the road. "And besides, I won't be found here."

He was a bit shorter (partially due to the outrageously huge heels the other man had on his dainty feet) and about as plain as a person could be. His short, naturally brown hair was messy and hung partially in his face. In contrast, his mustache was neatly trimmed. Overall, he was a rather drab concoction of natural tones with a subdued, dark green Hawaiian print shirt and equally earthy trousers.

"But where is here exactly?" Vince Noir, The King of the Mods, huffed, taking off his shades to take a look around. He squinted in the afternoon sunlight. Of course he sported perfectly applied eyeliner.

"Sandford, a little town in Gloucestershire. Lovely, innit?" Howard Moon, The Maverick of Jazz, smiled as he took in the rustic village aesthetic around him. He inhaled the fresh air as he picked up his own suitcase and he started to leave the van—and his best mate—behind.

"Fabulous. Middle of nowhere, just as I thought. Why did I agree to this..."

"Stop whining and c'mon,” Howard called. “We've got to check in before sunset."

After setting his shades atop his head, Vince picked up his suitcases and dragged his feet behind him, muttering on his way down the tiny village street.

Even though the town was rather quiet for a Friday afternoon in Spring, nothing stopped the Sandford Police Service from being out and about in full force.

Shortly after the strangers from the city left their van, two officers in uniform came strolling down the street, arguing about the scientific validity of a television programme involving a time-and-space-traveling alien in an old-fashioned police box.

“I swear to you—that shit’s real,” the taller and much chubbier of the two said, his hands in his trouser pockets. “It happened here, didn’t it?”

“Come off it, Danny,” the other officer replied shortly. “You still think that peculiar man who moved to town is an alien from an extinct planet?”

“Well… yes?”

“He’s not.”

“He’s a Timelord!”

“A Timecrazy is more like it.”

“Don’t you be disrespectin’ The Doctor.”

Nicholas Angel was hardly paying attention his partner at that time. His eyes had narrowed, becoming fixed on the large green van, the one that was parked rather illegally. Grabbing his ticket book from his back pocket and clicking his trusty pen, he approached the vehicle with purpose.

“Never seen that car ‘round here before,” Danny commented as he wandered toward his partner.

“And it’s illegally parked,” Nicholas added, scribbling out a parking ticket that he left underneath one of the van’s windshield wipers.

“Maybe they just popped off to the shop or something?” Danny suggested. “Don’t give them a ticket.”

Nicholas stepped back from the van, clearing his throat. “Sergeant Butterman. You should know better.” He used his professional voice. The younger man simply rolled his eyes and stalked off, muttering, “Fine fine…” under his breath.

With a slightly cheeky grin, Nicholas slipped his ticket book back into his pocket and followed the younger officer, giving him a playful swat on the behind once he found the coast to be clear.

“Oi, hey! We’re on duty, you ponce!”

At the recently renovated Swan Hotel, Vince Noir and Howard Moon had no problem checking into their room. It was a bit cramped for Vince’s taste, and the bathroom was simply too small. That was the first thing he had checked, tsk-ing and mumbling about where he was to fit all of his hair care products and cosmetics.

Setting his suitcases on his twin bed, he unlatched them, and mountains of clothing and accessories tumbled out. It was a wonder how he had managed to close them in the first place. Howard kept to himself, opening one of the room’s windows to let in some fresh, country air before taking to unpacking his sparsely-filled suitcase on his matching twin bed.

With his arms full of toiletries, Vince waddled over to the bathroom and threw them down on the counter, starting to sort through them and situate them neatly around the small surface. It didn’t take long for him to notice something was missing.

“My hairdryer!”

“What about it?” Howard called.

“It’s missing!”

“You didn’t pack it in your suitcases?”

“I brought it in its own carrying case. I still think it’s in the van.”

“Go get it then.”

Vince was already grabbing his jacket and running out the hotel room door, desperate to get to his beloved hairdryer, the one he had to send away and wait six weeks for. (Yeah, you know the one.)

Twenty minutes later he returned humming a happy song with the hairdryer carrying case slung over his shoulder. Howard, only out of his extreme boredom, had taken to refolding Vince’s clothes and putting them away in the dresser drawers.

“Found it,” he sang, grinning as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. “Oh, and by the way, this was on the van.” He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket, tossing it onto Howard’s bed.

“What’s that, then?” Howard asked, smoothing the paper out as best he could and letting his eyes scan what was written on it. “… A parking ticket. Great.”

“Why’d we get one of those for?” Vince called as he unpacked his beloved Jean Claude Jacquettie hairdryer. Stroking it lovingly, he set it down on the bathroom counter to play with his hairbrushes and ceramic hair iron.

“Probably just some cop needing to fill a quota. And they want thirty Quid from us.”

“Alright, then just pay it. I’ll pitch in half.”

“Just pay it? That’s ridiculous. We shouldn’t have to. I’m going to fight this first thing in the morning.”

Later on that evening, as the full moon started to show itself, a light fog started to roll across the fields. It went through town before settling upon the duck pond and disappearing completely. Nicholas Angel, on his nightly jog, hardly noticed it, as he was too busy jogging and idly chatting on his mobile with someone who made him giggle.

As he crossed the stone bridge, he came to a halt.

“Hold on, Mart,” he spoke into the phone. “One sec.” He pulled it away from his ear, his brow furrowing as he surveyed his surroundings. Was someone crying? When he crossed the pond, just then, he could have sworn he heard someone… or something…

He stood still for a few moments before creeping to look over the side. All he saw was the murky water beneath. Shrugging it off and getting back to his long-distance boyfriend, he continued his path back to his cottage “Hey, sorry. Just thought I heard something. You were saying…?”

What he didn’t spot was the rather green and fishy humanoid loitering beneath the bridge. It had stopped crying, only to peer out and check to see if the coast was clear. Seaweed hair covered its face, and it wore an outfit of white and, strangely enough, a pink tutu.
 
 
Current Mood: pleasedpleased
 
 
 
Klokkrazy: mesteralizetheemo on August 11th, 2007 12:32 am (UTC)
*hipthrust*
sammiface!: hot fuzz | cartoony cute.chibijelly on August 11th, 2007 12:33 am (UTC)
Op. There you go again with the hipthrusting. XD
Klokkrazy: mesteralizetheemo on August 11th, 2007 12:34 am (UTC)
*hipthrust-thrust-thrust*

Oh yeeahhh
sammiface!: doctor who | have some lawlz.chibijelly on August 11th, 2007 12:49 am (UTC)
*gigglesnort*
Miss Kitty Fantastico[Bi-Furious]: Vince Noir: Goth Fairysweetnovicane on August 13th, 2007 04:27 am (UTC)
He bought a carrying case for it? Oh Vince, we should have known. XD

And oh dear on that Tutu...
sammiface!: boosh | get in me wheelbarrow.chibijelly on August 13th, 2007 06:02 am (UTC)
It's quite lovely, really.

THE TUTU IS AN OMINOUS TUTU!