Xoobilation Chapter 2
Vince woke up with a pounding in his skull that rivaled any hangover he’d ever had. He closed his eyes and prayed for death, but something tickled at the back of his brain. He pried his eyes opened and confirmed he was not in his own bedroom. He was in Howard’s room.
Vince returned to pleading with a vague idea of a deity for a swift end to his miserable existence. He promised said deity he would never again drink or partake in anything touched by Naboo’s little hands, if only his suffering would end without hours spent being sick in the toilet while Howard lectured him about a life of moderation.
Vince dragged his head to the left and found that Howard was lying next to him. He wasn’t quite snoring, but he was making the funny little noise he only made after a night of drinking. Howard’s hair was a mess of curls that Vince recognized as his own handiwork. Only he could turn Howard’s mop into a head of perfect C curls.
He could see his handiwork elsewhere. His lipstick was smeared on Howard’s face and neck, and there were love bites on Howard’s bare chest. Vince tentatively lifted Howard’s sheet and found he was down to his pants, but Howard was still wearing corduroys.
But they were unbuttoned and unzipped.
Vince was hit by a million feelings at once, so he focused on the need to empty his stomach and hobbled to the bathroom.
Xxx
Howard was dreaming that he was giving Arturo Sandoval tips on scatting in exchange for trumpet lessons when he heard a godawful, but familiar, noise coming from the bathroom. Clearly, Vince had shown his typical lack of moderation during the party. When Howard tried to sit up, he realized he might have been a bit indulgent himself. That, or he'd been hit by a truck. His head was pounding, and when he rubbed his neck, it was tender. Howard looked down and realized he was half-dressed from the night before, and there were bruises on his chest.
Howard tried to remember getting into a fight. He felt sure he would remember a fight.
When he found his rollneck on the floor, there was lipstick on the collar. Howard smiled - and then his knees went wobbly. He recognized the shade. He’d seen it on enough straws and teacups to know that it was one of Vince’s favorites. The gravity of the moment was diluted when Howard’s trousers chose that moment to fall to the floor, but it alerted him to the fact that his trousers had most definitely been undone.
Howard closed his eyes and tried to remember the completely logical and non-threatening events that had led to his current situation. Perhaps a Satsuma fight gone awry?
Then he heard Vince mutter, “What did we do?”
Howard stumbled to the bathroom on unsteady legs, hoping against hope that Vince would supply an answer to his own question.
He found his flatmate curled up in a ball on the floor, dressed only in a pair of very small pants the same color as his lipstick. Vince called them his lucky pants, not because he was any more likely to pull when he was wearing them, but because he felt lucky when he got a chance to reveal that his pants matched his lipstick. It had only happened twice, to Howard’s knowledge, but Vince had been thrilled both times.
“You’ve got your lucky pants on,” Howard said in a raspy voice before clearing his throat.
Vince slowly opened his eyes. He looked so worried and miserable that Howard instinctively knelt down and put his hand on Vince’s shoulder. He immediately felt awkward, but Vince held his hand in place.
“Do you remember anything about last night?” Vince asked in a small voice.
“I remember there was a joint that smelled odd…”
“Oh, Howard,” Vince whispered. “What did we do?”
Xxx
It was easy to take care of Vince. As long as Howard focused on taking care of his friend, he didn’t have to think.
“More sugar for your tea, Vince?”
Vince stirred his tea, and Howard could hear the crunch of the pile of sugar at the bottom of the cup.
“Maybe another teaspoon,” Vince replied.
They had their Ibuprofen, tea, biscuits, big glasses of water, and small glasses of orange juice. Vince was wrapped in a warm and fuzzy dressing gown, and Howard was showered and dressed.
“Oh, dear,” Howard observed. “There’s a spot on this teaspoon. I’ll just wash this and dry it. I think we have some silver polish...”
“Howard?”
“Yes?”
“Please stop moving. It’s making me dizzy.”
Howard planted himself in his usual seat with what he hoped was a friendly smile on his face.
“And Howard?”
“Yes?”
“Quit smiling like that. It’s well creepy.”
Howard tried to look less creepy.
Xxx
Vince felt like he was going to die. The hangover was receding, but Howard wouldn’t stop moving, and every time Vince opened his mouth to speak, Howard shoved a biscuit in it.
“Howard…”
“More tea?”
Vince marveled that Howard was able to grab the tea kettle so quickly, when Vince could barely move. Howard was refilling his cup before he could say no.
“Please, Howard…”
Howard slumped in his chair like his bones had melted. He looked so despondent that it was scary. Howard was the leader of their duo. It didn’t matter if he never knew where he was going, because Howard knew how to read maps. Howard was the one who knew how things were supposed to be done.
Vince tried to think of something to say that would cheer Howard up, but his mind was blank. He needed Howard to tell him that everything was all right, but Howard’s jittery mania proved that things were not all right. Things were the opposite of all right. They were all wrong.
When he could no longer bear the silence, Vince blurted out, “Maybe nothing happened. Maybe I just got pissed and thought I was in my own bed…”
“Of course, nothing happened,” Howard snapped. “I would know if anything… happened.”
“Whaja mean?”
“I would know if I had taken that step into the world of…”
“S’not like that in real life, Howard!” Vince snapped. “Losing your virginity isn’t special, it’s just something you do. It’s embarrassing and bad, and you’re glad when it’s over so you can work on being better next time.”
“Maybe that’s true for some people.” Howard huffed, looking angry, but Vince couldn’t stop talking.
“It’s rubbish for everyone, Howard. You come too quick, or you’re too nervous to get it up, or it hurts and it’s awful and you hope the other person will just disappear so you never have to face them again.”
Howard didn’t say a word. He just got up and walked away.
Xxx
“I got a bad feeling about this,” Bollo muttered before daring to open his eyes. Just as he had feared, he was alive and the pain in his head was real. It had been a bit of a shocker, going from life at the zoo to being Naboo’s familiar. He’d gotten used to a lot of things, like the Camden night life and council tax, but he still wasn’t used to the aftereffects of Naboo’s magic. The highs were worth the lows, but a party like the mini-Xoobilation really took it out of a gorilla. He wasn’t a kid any more. Bollo wasn’t sure how old he really was, but he knew he was no longer young.
But he had felt young when he was swinging around the flat like a baby chimp. Then someone had reminded him that he was a gorilla, not a chimpanzee, and he had lost his ability to fly.
His fur smelled disgusting, and Bollo wasn’t sure he wanted to know what he had gotten up to the night before. Naboo’s Magical Punch and Love Grass made for a wonderful night, free of inhibitions or fears. Unfortunately, it sometimes came with sexually transmitted diseases and unexpectedly popular internet videos.
Even as he lamented what the day would bring, the latest edition of Shaman You materialized on the coffee table. The cover featured Dennis weeping with the words, "Head Shamin'" beneath his picture. There was a smaller picture of Naboo and Bollo (labeled "Naboolio and his Prime Mate") passing a joint the size of a small baby under a picture of Tony Harrison that simply read, "Outrage!"
Bollo considered the various ways to deal with a magical party gone wrong and having his name and the names of his closest friends dragged through the mud by a trashy Magic Mag. After careful consideration, and taking a hit from a roach the size of his fist, Bollo decided to go back to sleep and hope that the next time he woke up, things would have sorted themselves out. The council could erase and replace memories.
Unfortunately, not even they could un-invent YouTube, but such was the price of having a good time.
xxx
Howard curled up on his bed and wondered how his life had been derailed in one night, a night he could barely remember.
There were some memories, disjointed images that popped into his head and refused to leave.
Howard remembered kissing Vince's neck.
He remembered how Vince had moaned and murmured "Howard" so sweetly. While others had been grinding themselves on the furniture, looking for a quick thrill, Howard and Vince had been tender and loving with one another. Vince could say it didn't mean anything, but he hadn't been trying to get off. In fact, Vince had been as docile as Howard had ever seen him. He had eagerly returned Howard's kisses and caresses, but Vince hadn't tried to move things along. He'd seemed content just to enjoy the moment.
Of course, things could have changed. There were huge holes in Howard's memory. Maybe Vince had decided to move things along.
Maybe Vince had decided he was tired of waiting for Howard and moved on to a more experienced partner.
Howard couldn't deny that his memories of snogging Vince were more than pleasant. He'd finally explored every inch of the face he knew better than his own, and he'd touched Vince in places that had previously been very much out of bounds.
And he wanted to do it again.
xxx
Howard ran his hand over Vince’s flat stomach and up towards his ribs. Vince was panting and whimpering, but Howard couldn't tear himself away from admiring his friend's slim frame. Ever since their kiss on the rooftop, Howard had been haunted by the feel of Vince in his arms. Vince had a way of making Howard feel big and strong, but that kiss had been Howard's finest moment. He hadn't just fallen in love with Vince that night; he'd fallen in love with the feeling of holding someone and being held.
Vince whispered Howard's name over and over, like he was in a trance. He looked so small and vulnerable, wearing nothing but his lucky pants and smeared makeup. Howard pulled his friend into his arms and held him.
"You can fuck me if you want," Vince whispered. "Anything. Just... please..."
Howard brushed at Vince's fringe and kissed him while Vince dragged their joined hands down towards his lucky pants.
Howard woke up lying on the floor next to his bed - and under his mattress.
"Naboo ready to talk to you now," Bollo muttered as he walked away.
"Did you flip my mattress?" Howard called after the retreating furry back, feeling more confused than angry.
Bollo muttered something about ballbags. Bollo was not an especially pleasant flatmate at the best of times, but he was a monster when he was hungover. Howard was somewhat cheered to know he wasn't the only miserable person in the house.
xxx
Vince chewed on his thumb as he waited for Howard to make his way to Naboo's lair. Naboo was taking hits from his hookah and kept offering it to Vince, as though Vince would ever touch an illicit substance again in his life. Vince had sworn off all drinking, drugs, coffee, and fizzy drinks. He never wanted to be out of control again. He was going to drink herbal tea and eat quinoa and only listen to music from the fifties.
When Howard finally arrived, Vince couldn't look at him. He stared at his bare feet, suddenly sorry he hadn't made the effort to make himself presentable. His hair was a mess, he wasn't wearing makeup, and he was wearing a pair of flares he'd forgotten he owned. They were pre-GI diet, so they had slid on easily, as had Howard's rollneck. Now that Vince was bare-faced and wearing Howard's too-big jumper, he wondered how it looked to his friend. Would Howard think Vince was trying to look his worst, or would he think Vince was declaring them a couple? Vince's only thought had been "I want to die" as he’d dressed. He should have put more effort in.
He snuck a glance at Howard and remembered essentially humping his leg while Howard kissed his throat. Vince felt dizzy and weak.
The back of Howard's cool hand on his forehead was nearly his undoing. As long as Howard could take care of Vince, they had something to cling to. Vince wondered if he would have to spend the rest of his life hung over, just so Howard would never leave.
"You're white as a sheet." Howard spoke in a gentle and low tone that shook Vince to his core. He wanted to pull Howard down for a kiss, the kind of kiss that would make all their "did we, didn't we?" questions moot. Vince wanted to put every ounce of his desire in a kiss that would be his declaration. Instead, he pulled back from Howard's touch, because the promise of adding a new element to their relationship could not overshadow his fear of losing Howard forever. Vince was a coward, so he hid behind his hair and willed Naboo to make everything right again, as he'd done some many times before.
Naboo dragged himself from the couch and announced, "There was a cock-up last night..."
Vince and Howard waited patiently as Naboo and Bollo giggled at the wording and took another hit from their hookah.
"As I was saying," Naboo continued, "things went a bit wrong with the enchantments last night. Long story short, Kirk is being sent back to Xooberon for some intense therapy, Dennis is not allowed out of Methuselah's sight, Green Witch Lady..."
"Green Witch Lady?" Howard repeated with a sneer.
"Get off," Naboo snapped. "I can't remember every bloody name. Green Witch Lady is back in remedial witch training, I'm not allowed flying a carpet or any other enchanted object for six weeks, and Saboo is tracking down our guests and erasing their memories."
"Erasing their memories?" Vince repeated. "They remember what happened last night?"
Naboo shrugged. "Bits and pieces, but too much for the Shaman Council's liking. The two of you know all about this stuff, so you can keep your memories..."
"What about our missing memories?" Howard asked, just a little too loudly for Naboo not to pick up on his desperation.
Naboo narrowed his dark eyes. "Missing memories?"
Vince tried to disappear into Howard's rollneck. He felt a blush spreading from his cheeks through his entire body. He tried to imagine how he and Howard had looked to outsiders. Could everyone tell how badly Vince wanted Howard? That he would have done just about anything on that couch, no matter who was watching, just to be closer to Howard? What if people told Howard?
"There's erm... something of a hole in our memories of last night..."
Howard went red as his shifty little eyes threatened to shift right out of his skull.
Naboo tried to keep a straight face, while Bollo laughed and slapped his knee.
"So the two of you finally made disgusting human love?" Naboo asked in his usual bland tone.
"We don't really know... Who are you to call human love disgusting? I saw what Tony Harrison was doing to our armchair," was Howard's impassioned, if ineffective, retort.
Naboo was almost professional as he asked Howard and Vince for the details they remembered. Vince skipped over a few important details, unable to risk Howard's disgusted reaction, but he was mostly honest. He remembered a lot of what had happened on the couch, and very little of what happened once they retired to their bedroom. What he did remember came to him in flashes and might have been more fantasy than reality. He doubted Howard would have been quite so romantic with his words or skilled with his hands, given his lack of experience. Howard was vague in his descriptions, but his jumpiness suggested he remembered more than he was letting on.
"After Saboo is done taking care of the really critical cases, like Mama Zoom and everyone who got within ten feet of Kirk, maybe he can help clear your memories," Naboo suggested.
"He can do that?" Vince asked, impressed that Saboo had a skill other than dressing awesome and acting bitchy. In Vince's experience, people with those two skills rarely had time to work on anything else.
"Sure, Saboo's a whiz at that stuff, but you have to ask yourselves..." Naboo looked between Vince and Howard, allowing a meaningful pause to fill the air with tension. "Does it really matter? You were obviously a margarita away from bumming to begin with. What does it matter if you had it off or almost had it off?"
Vince returned to pleading with a vague idea of a deity for a swift end to his miserable existence. He promised said deity he would never again drink or partake in anything touched by Naboo’s little hands, if only his suffering would end without hours spent being sick in the toilet while Howard lectured him about a life of moderation.
Vince dragged his head to the left and found that Howard was lying next to him. He wasn’t quite snoring, but he was making the funny little noise he only made after a night of drinking. Howard’s hair was a mess of curls that Vince recognized as his own handiwork. Only he could turn Howard’s mop into a head of perfect C curls.
He could see his handiwork elsewhere. His lipstick was smeared on Howard’s face and neck, and there were love bites on Howard’s bare chest. Vince tentatively lifted Howard’s sheet and found he was down to his pants, but Howard was still wearing corduroys.
But they were unbuttoned and unzipped.
Vince was hit by a million feelings at once, so he focused on the need to empty his stomach and hobbled to the bathroom.
Xxx
Howard was dreaming that he was giving Arturo Sandoval tips on scatting in exchange for trumpet lessons when he heard a godawful, but familiar, noise coming from the bathroom. Clearly, Vince had shown his typical lack of moderation during the party. When Howard tried to sit up, he realized he might have been a bit indulgent himself. That, or he'd been hit by a truck. His head was pounding, and when he rubbed his neck, it was tender. Howard looked down and realized he was half-dressed from the night before, and there were bruises on his chest.
Howard tried to remember getting into a fight. He felt sure he would remember a fight.
When he found his rollneck on the floor, there was lipstick on the collar. Howard smiled - and then his knees went wobbly. He recognized the shade. He’d seen it on enough straws and teacups to know that it was one of Vince’s favorites. The gravity of the moment was diluted when Howard’s trousers chose that moment to fall to the floor, but it alerted him to the fact that his trousers had most definitely been undone.
Howard closed his eyes and tried to remember the completely logical and non-threatening events that had led to his current situation. Perhaps a Satsuma fight gone awry?
Then he heard Vince mutter, “What did we do?”
Howard stumbled to the bathroom on unsteady legs, hoping against hope that Vince would supply an answer to his own question.
He found his flatmate curled up in a ball on the floor, dressed only in a pair of very small pants the same color as his lipstick. Vince called them his lucky pants, not because he was any more likely to pull when he was wearing them, but because he felt lucky when he got a chance to reveal that his pants matched his lipstick. It had only happened twice, to Howard’s knowledge, but Vince had been thrilled both times.
“You’ve got your lucky pants on,” Howard said in a raspy voice before clearing his throat.
Vince slowly opened his eyes. He looked so worried and miserable that Howard instinctively knelt down and put his hand on Vince’s shoulder. He immediately felt awkward, but Vince held his hand in place.
“Do you remember anything about last night?” Vince asked in a small voice.
“I remember there was a joint that smelled odd…”
“Oh, Howard,” Vince whispered. “What did we do?”
Xxx
It was easy to take care of Vince. As long as Howard focused on taking care of his friend, he didn’t have to think.
“More sugar for your tea, Vince?”
Vince stirred his tea, and Howard could hear the crunch of the pile of sugar at the bottom of the cup.
“Maybe another teaspoon,” Vince replied.
They had their Ibuprofen, tea, biscuits, big glasses of water, and small glasses of orange juice. Vince was wrapped in a warm and fuzzy dressing gown, and Howard was showered and dressed.
“Oh, dear,” Howard observed. “There’s a spot on this teaspoon. I’ll just wash this and dry it. I think we have some silver polish...”
“Howard?”
“Yes?”
“Please stop moving. It’s making me dizzy.”
Howard planted himself in his usual seat with what he hoped was a friendly smile on his face.
“And Howard?”
“Yes?”
“Quit smiling like that. It’s well creepy.”
Howard tried to look less creepy.
Xxx
Vince felt like he was going to die. The hangover was receding, but Howard wouldn’t stop moving, and every time Vince opened his mouth to speak, Howard shoved a biscuit in it.
“Howard…”
“More tea?”
Vince marveled that Howard was able to grab the tea kettle so quickly, when Vince could barely move. Howard was refilling his cup before he could say no.
“Please, Howard…”
Howard slumped in his chair like his bones had melted. He looked so despondent that it was scary. Howard was the leader of their duo. It didn’t matter if he never knew where he was going, because Howard knew how to read maps. Howard was the one who knew how things were supposed to be done.
Vince tried to think of something to say that would cheer Howard up, but his mind was blank. He needed Howard to tell him that everything was all right, but Howard’s jittery mania proved that things were not all right. Things were the opposite of all right. They were all wrong.
When he could no longer bear the silence, Vince blurted out, “Maybe nothing happened. Maybe I just got pissed and thought I was in my own bed…”
“Of course, nothing happened,” Howard snapped. “I would know if anything… happened.”
“Whaja mean?”
“I would know if I had taken that step into the world of…”
“S’not like that in real life, Howard!” Vince snapped. “Losing your virginity isn’t special, it’s just something you do. It’s embarrassing and bad, and you’re glad when it’s over so you can work on being better next time.”
“Maybe that’s true for some people.” Howard huffed, looking angry, but Vince couldn’t stop talking.
“It’s rubbish for everyone, Howard. You come too quick, or you’re too nervous to get it up, or it hurts and it’s awful and you hope the other person will just disappear so you never have to face them again.”
Howard didn’t say a word. He just got up and walked away.
Xxx
“I got a bad feeling about this,” Bollo muttered before daring to open his eyes. Just as he had feared, he was alive and the pain in his head was real. It had been a bit of a shocker, going from life at the zoo to being Naboo’s familiar. He’d gotten used to a lot of things, like the Camden night life and council tax, but he still wasn’t used to the aftereffects of Naboo’s magic. The highs were worth the lows, but a party like the mini-Xoobilation really took it out of a gorilla. He wasn’t a kid any more. Bollo wasn’t sure how old he really was, but he knew he was no longer young.
But he had felt young when he was swinging around the flat like a baby chimp. Then someone had reminded him that he was a gorilla, not a chimpanzee, and he had lost his ability to fly.
His fur smelled disgusting, and Bollo wasn’t sure he wanted to know what he had gotten up to the night before. Naboo’s Magical Punch and Love Grass made for a wonderful night, free of inhibitions or fears. Unfortunately, it sometimes came with sexually transmitted diseases and unexpectedly popular internet videos.
Even as he lamented what the day would bring, the latest edition of Shaman You materialized on the coffee table. The cover featured Dennis weeping with the words, "Head Shamin'" beneath his picture. There was a smaller picture of Naboo and Bollo (labeled "Naboolio and his Prime Mate") passing a joint the size of a small baby under a picture of Tony Harrison that simply read, "Outrage!"
Bollo considered the various ways to deal with a magical party gone wrong and having his name and the names of his closest friends dragged through the mud by a trashy Magic Mag. After careful consideration, and taking a hit from a roach the size of his fist, Bollo decided to go back to sleep and hope that the next time he woke up, things would have sorted themselves out. The council could erase and replace memories.
Unfortunately, not even they could un-invent YouTube, but such was the price of having a good time.
xxx
Howard curled up on his bed and wondered how his life had been derailed in one night, a night he could barely remember.
There were some memories, disjointed images that popped into his head and refused to leave.
Howard remembered kissing Vince's neck.
He remembered how Vince had moaned and murmured "Howard" so sweetly. While others had been grinding themselves on the furniture, looking for a quick thrill, Howard and Vince had been tender and loving with one another. Vince could say it didn't mean anything, but he hadn't been trying to get off. In fact, Vince had been as docile as Howard had ever seen him. He had eagerly returned Howard's kisses and caresses, but Vince hadn't tried to move things along. He'd seemed content just to enjoy the moment.
Of course, things could have changed. There were huge holes in Howard's memory. Maybe Vince had decided to move things along.
Maybe Vince had decided he was tired of waiting for Howard and moved on to a more experienced partner.
Howard couldn't deny that his memories of snogging Vince were more than pleasant. He'd finally explored every inch of the face he knew better than his own, and he'd touched Vince in places that had previously been very much out of bounds.
And he wanted to do it again.
xxx
Howard ran his hand over Vince’s flat stomach and up towards his ribs. Vince was panting and whimpering, but Howard couldn't tear himself away from admiring his friend's slim frame. Ever since their kiss on the rooftop, Howard had been haunted by the feel of Vince in his arms. Vince had a way of making Howard feel big and strong, but that kiss had been Howard's finest moment. He hadn't just fallen in love with Vince that night; he'd fallen in love with the feeling of holding someone and being held.
Vince whispered Howard's name over and over, like he was in a trance. He looked so small and vulnerable, wearing nothing but his lucky pants and smeared makeup. Howard pulled his friend into his arms and held him.
"You can fuck me if you want," Vince whispered. "Anything. Just... please..."
Howard brushed at Vince's fringe and kissed him while Vince dragged their joined hands down towards his lucky pants.
Howard woke up lying on the floor next to his bed - and under his mattress.
"Naboo ready to talk to you now," Bollo muttered as he walked away.
"Did you flip my mattress?" Howard called after the retreating furry back, feeling more confused than angry.
Bollo muttered something about ballbags. Bollo was not an especially pleasant flatmate at the best of times, but he was a monster when he was hungover. Howard was somewhat cheered to know he wasn't the only miserable person in the house.
xxx
Vince chewed on his thumb as he waited for Howard to make his way to Naboo's lair. Naboo was taking hits from his hookah and kept offering it to Vince, as though Vince would ever touch an illicit substance again in his life. Vince had sworn off all drinking, drugs, coffee, and fizzy drinks. He never wanted to be out of control again. He was going to drink herbal tea and eat quinoa and only listen to music from the fifties.
When Howard finally arrived, Vince couldn't look at him. He stared at his bare feet, suddenly sorry he hadn't made the effort to make himself presentable. His hair was a mess, he wasn't wearing makeup, and he was wearing a pair of flares he'd forgotten he owned. They were pre-GI diet, so they had slid on easily, as had Howard's rollneck. Now that Vince was bare-faced and wearing Howard's too-big jumper, he wondered how it looked to his friend. Would Howard think Vince was trying to look his worst, or would he think Vince was declaring them a couple? Vince's only thought had been "I want to die" as he’d dressed. He should have put more effort in.
He snuck a glance at Howard and remembered essentially humping his leg while Howard kissed his throat. Vince felt dizzy and weak.
The back of Howard's cool hand on his forehead was nearly his undoing. As long as Howard could take care of Vince, they had something to cling to. Vince wondered if he would have to spend the rest of his life hung over, just so Howard would never leave.
"You're white as a sheet." Howard spoke in a gentle and low tone that shook Vince to his core. He wanted to pull Howard down for a kiss, the kind of kiss that would make all their "did we, didn't we?" questions moot. Vince wanted to put every ounce of his desire in a kiss that would be his declaration. Instead, he pulled back from Howard's touch, because the promise of adding a new element to their relationship could not overshadow his fear of losing Howard forever. Vince was a coward, so he hid behind his hair and willed Naboo to make everything right again, as he'd done some many times before.
Naboo dragged himself from the couch and announced, "There was a cock-up last night..."
Vince and Howard waited patiently as Naboo and Bollo giggled at the wording and took another hit from their hookah.
"As I was saying," Naboo continued, "things went a bit wrong with the enchantments last night. Long story short, Kirk is being sent back to Xooberon for some intense therapy, Dennis is not allowed out of Methuselah's sight, Green Witch Lady..."
"Green Witch Lady?" Howard repeated with a sneer.
"Get off," Naboo snapped. "I can't remember every bloody name. Green Witch Lady is back in remedial witch training, I'm not allowed flying a carpet or any other enchanted object for six weeks, and Saboo is tracking down our guests and erasing their memories."
"Erasing their memories?" Vince repeated. "They remember what happened last night?"
Naboo shrugged. "Bits and pieces, but too much for the Shaman Council's liking. The two of you know all about this stuff, so you can keep your memories..."
"What about our missing memories?" Howard asked, just a little too loudly for Naboo not to pick up on his desperation.
Naboo narrowed his dark eyes. "Missing memories?"
Vince tried to disappear into Howard's rollneck. He felt a blush spreading from his cheeks through his entire body. He tried to imagine how he and Howard had looked to outsiders. Could everyone tell how badly Vince wanted Howard? That he would have done just about anything on that couch, no matter who was watching, just to be closer to Howard? What if people told Howard?
"There's erm... something of a hole in our memories of last night..."
Howard went red as his shifty little eyes threatened to shift right out of his skull.
Naboo tried to keep a straight face, while Bollo laughed and slapped his knee.
"So the two of you finally made disgusting human love?" Naboo asked in his usual bland tone.
"We don't really know... Who are you to call human love disgusting? I saw what Tony Harrison was doing to our armchair," was Howard's impassioned, if ineffective, retort.
Naboo was almost professional as he asked Howard and Vince for the details they remembered. Vince skipped over a few important details, unable to risk Howard's disgusted reaction, but he was mostly honest. He remembered a lot of what had happened on the couch, and very little of what happened once they retired to their bedroom. What he did remember came to him in flashes and might have been more fantasy than reality. He doubted Howard would have been quite so romantic with his words or skilled with his hands, given his lack of experience. Howard was vague in his descriptions, but his jumpiness suggested he remembered more than he was letting on.
"After Saboo is done taking care of the really critical cases, like Mama Zoom and everyone who got within ten feet of Kirk, maybe he can help clear your memories," Naboo suggested.
"He can do that?" Vince asked, impressed that Saboo had a skill other than dressing awesome and acting bitchy. In Vince's experience, people with those two skills rarely had time to work on anything else.
"Sure, Saboo's a whiz at that stuff, but you have to ask yourselves..." Naboo looked between Vince and Howard, allowing a meaningful pause to fill the air with tension. "Does it really matter? You were obviously a margarita away from bumming to begin with. What does it matter if you had it off or almost had it off?"