The Mighty Boosh, Series 1

Vince:
I write novels. They're Charlie books.

Howard:
They're Charlie books?

Vince:
Yeah.

Howard:
What, that pink shape that you draw?

Vince:
Yeah. Charlie. Charlie is genius, right, he's made of a million pieces of old bubblegum. Imagine that. In the summer of 1976 on his way home from an Alice Cooper concert, Charlie started to melt onto the pavement. It was too hot in L.A, and he melted like a pink bitch. Luckily though, there was Eric Phillips, a local crocodile who dabbled in black magic. He took pity on Charlie and scraped him off the floor with a pair of fish slicers. He poured him into an antique soup ladle and boarded his magic carpet. Destination: Alaska. Eric Phillips decided to refreeze Charlie. but in his cold blooded, reptilian haste, he refroze him into the shape of a hoover. Charlie wasn't phased though, he just zoomed about the place sucking up Inuits. The Inuits didn't mind, they loved it in Charlie's pink, tight, warm belly pouch and they refused to come out. Charlie said "I'm cool with that" and set fire to a posh hammer to make it official. The downside was that the Inuits suffocated immediately; it was air tight in there. Charlie panicked and fired the tiny Inuit bullets into Eric's crocodile peepers. The green shape, was frozen. After a quick drink, Charlie stole Eric Phillips' magic carpet and left for Seattle. Charlie was racked with guilt, he'd just killed fifty Inuits, no one needs that. He decided to spend the rest of his life putting small hairstyles onto boots, monkey nuts, yrumpets and spanners.

Howard:
That's not a novel, that's the scribblings of a retard.

Vince:
They are novels, they're novelettes.

Howard:
It's in crayon, you birk.

Vince:
So what? I'm new school.

Howard:
New school? I'm talking about books that are gonna get published.

Vince:
Mine are published, I publish them myself.

Howard:
You photocopy them and you leave them lying around supermarkets, inside Weetabix boxes. That's not published, is it?