OK PLEASE COMMENT I AM SO UNSURE ABOUT THIS ONE!

This is a crossover for Sweet and The Mighty Boosh.

Sweet is a short film on the special features on disc 2 of series 2.

I am so unsure about this as I said, and I am sorry if this freaks anyone out (I don't know how it would though)

PLEASE REVIEW!

I don't own The Mighty Boosh or Sweet, Noel and Julien do.

Now read on reader while I go and crawl under my table.

Noel felt his eyelids droop, the drugs taking their toll. He could hear Julien's scared screams in his ear, trying to keep his best friend awake, but Julien's words were a muffled jumble to Noel. Noel could still smell that sharp and peticular odor of the smoke, his throat screaming from when he inhaled it. His eyes suddenly shut, Julien's scared face dissapeared.

Everything went black.

My eyes clicked opem.

I was in a room, and it definately wasn't Julien's flat. The walls were painted a mystic forest green, paintings of abstract objects and bright colours hanging from each wall. There where two doors on either sides of the wall, but I wasn't going one step near them without knowing what the fuck was going on. I lifted myself up, my eyes not staying still for a second but darting around the room and taking in my surroundings. My head smashed against something hard, making my headache worse.

"Shit Noel, what on earth have you done now?" I muttered to myself, realizing I had banged my head on a bed post. The bed had a ruffled leopard print blanket and sky blue pillows, a bike helmet and a empty bottle of vodka on the bed. Someone had slept in it not that long ago.

I froze, suddenly realising how scared I should be.

I have just woken up in someones bedroom.

This could be a kind old womens flat.

Or a flesh eating serial murderer.

Oh shit.

"What the fuck?" I whispered, starting to pace. I tried to get my mind straight, hoping that something would show.

Was it the drugs?

I must be.

Right?

Was else could it have been?

White light shined through a round window, it was the weirdest window I'd seen (Well that I can remember anyway).

I ran over to the window and spied on the world outside, and gasped.

It was Camden.

I didn't know where in Camden but I was there.

What was going on?

This had to be the drugs.

I felt lost, scared and drunk at the same time. I didn't even think it was possible! The room starting to get smaller.

Why didn't I listen to Julien?

The left door swung open, a familiar man walking into the room

Julien.

"JULIEN?!" I shouted, stopping dead in my tracks.

He had shaved his moustache, hair cut short. He wore a black jacket, black denim jeans and a band shirt.

Whatever kind of fucked up world I'm in, it's pretty weird.

A grin immedialtely spread on his face as he saw me staring bug eyed at him with my jaw down to the floor.

"Hey there Sweetie" He purred, his voice deeper than normal. Sweetie? Since when has Julien called me sweetie. He came over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. Julien pressed his lips against mine, pushing his tongue between my lips and exploring my mouth. He pulled away, seeing my face frozen in shock.

This was Julien!

The Julien!

The Julien that took three hours to get to an interview with Hot Chip because he got lost in the car and I got there before him and I was WALKING!(I'm drifting from the point a bit).

"Whats wrong Sweetie?" He asked, rubbing his thumbs against the bare skin at my hips, sending chills up my spine. I tried to speak, but the words seem to stop dead in my throat. He kissed me again, my body like a statue. He grabbed my wrists and pushed me onto the bed, jumping onto me so his thighs were against my legs, biting at my neck. I squeaked as he grabbed my crotch, pushing his hips against mine. He ripped off his jacket and threw it across the room, a wild look in his eyes.

This is not going to go where it looks like it will!

No. Fucking. Way!

This must be a joke! Would Julien be moaning pleasurably, having an erection and ripping off my shirt for a joke? I tried to move, but was trapped under Julien. He drew his tongue up my neck, biting at my bare skin. I thought despritely of a way to get out of this, forgetting completely about the room. Julien had started to trail kisses down my chest, sucking at my bellybutton. He started to undo my fly, slipping his hands in my skinnies and biting at my boxers, and thats when I struck.

I brang the heel of my shoe into Julien's crotch, Julien yelping and falling to the floor.

Works every time.

I picked up the vodka bottle as a weapon, taking of advantage of him and jumping onto him, my thighs against his. He tried to bite my nipples, but I pushed him down.

"Jeez Pete! All I wanted to do was to bum you!" Julien exclaimed.

Pete?

Bum?

Me?!

"Pete?" I asked. "Julien. Who the fuck is Pete?" Julien's face froze, his body loosening from under me.

"Y-you're not Pete" He spluttered. I nodded slowly.

"Julien, are you ok. I'm supposed to be the one on drugs not you!?" Julien looked at me curiously.

"Julien. Who the fuck is Julien?"

My blood ran stone cold.

I tried to look for the truth in his eyes, but there was no truth to see.

He wasn't lying.

I let the bottle roll out of my hand, I collapsed next to the man I thought I knew.

"This is impossible" I whispered. The man held his hand out to me, gesturing a handshake.

"Stitch" He said.

"Noel" I replied.

And why was I introducing myself to a complete stranger that just tried to bum me up the A hole?

I shook his hand, suprised as he brang it to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss onto it.

"Look I am so sorry about... I thought you were my boyfriend Pete because... you look... I'm sorry" He muttered, eyes on his feet.

"Do you have a clue whats going because this is pretty freaky?" I asked. Stitch shook his head.

"No idea" He looked at me, staring oddly at my clothes and hair. "You look exactly like Pete. You may have different clothes and hair, but..." He drifted off, pulling a strand of my raven hair out from my face.

I hope he's not getting any ideas.

"And you look exactly like my best friend" I said. Stitch looked quite sexy, even though he looks like Julien. Stitch looked at me with cheeky eyes.

"I swear if you didn't cripple me, I would be fucking you right now!" He laughed. "Why are we so calm? We are in a room with someone we don't even know, and in you're case just tried to fuck you"

"I don't have a clue" I said, sitting next to Stitch. Stitch pulled a bottle of vodka from under the bed.

"Just in case" He said, taking a long gulp of the alcohol. "What some?"

I had just been high on drugs.

Almost raped.

Stuck in a room with a man called Stitch who could be a escapee from Askaban Prison.

Why not?

I grabbed the bottle, the liquid slipping down my throat.

"Be careful with that"Stitch slurred. "Very strong stuff" I took an extra long sip.

"I'll live"

The moonlight shone down on me, Stitch's face lit up by the light. My head was spinning, it was impossible to stand up without falling over.

Since when has vodka been that strong?

I only had a sip.

Or two.

Maybe a couple.

Half the bottle.

I sighed and pulled off my jacket, ruffling my hair up. I looked over to Stitch, smiling at my new found friend.

Well not really a friend friend.

Aquanances?

Drinking buddies?

Bum Chums?

I don't care.

He was just like Julien, except for the non moustache business.

Nice.

Caring.

Sexy.

Wait! Sexy? No way! You are not gay!

I blocked the thought out of my head and pushed in a more worrying one.

Where the fuck was I?

I could be dreaming, but this feels too real.

This could be the drugs, if it is then I don't think this is suppose to be happening.

Could I be in a coma, barley alive?

Dead?

I shuddered, the thought sending cold chills down my spine.

Everyone would be gone.

Julien.

Mike.

Rich.

Dave.

Dee.

Paul.

Gone.

All gone.

I let a silent tear drip down my face, followed by more. I started to sob, waking Stitch from his light slumber.

"Hey, are you ok?" He croaked.

"Fine fine" I tried to say without sobbing, but failed. Stitch rolled next to me and wrapped his arms around me, his body surprisingly warm. I don't know why, but being hugged by Stich was nice.

In my books, he was a suspected pervert from Leeds.

"I know I'm a complete stranger and all you know about me is my name, but please tell me what's wrong" He whispered. I sniffed.

"I think I might be dead" I said, struggling to say the last word. "That I can't ever go back, because of my fucking stupid desicion!" I started, my voice getting louder. "I won't be able to see everyone I love and care for ever again because my fucking desicions about taking 'just a little' drugs because I am a fucking arsehole and I was stupid git!" I screamed, grasping my fringe tightly in my fingers. Stitch pulled my hands away, his face calm.

"You are not dead, I know it. Would I be here if you were dead?" He asked, I shook my head. "See? You're not dead, and we will figure out what the Hell is going on in the morning"

"Thanks" I smiled, taking hold of my anger and bottling inside again. We went back to silence, the only sounds coming from the night life of Camden. "Stitch?"

"Yer?"

"How are you so calm?"

"Drunk as a donkey on hind legs" He laughed, his eyes falling shut. I looked out at the starry sky that glittered through the window, the starry sky I wished to apreciate if I got home.

"Now, whats you're name?"

"Noel Fielding. Have you heard of me cause I'm sorta famous?"

"No, never heard of you"

The questions period wasn't going too well, with the only certain facts our names, we weren't getting anywhere. I nibbled at my slice of toast, strawberry jam coating my lips. Stitch had purple rims around his eyes, but he still managed to look half decent. We were in the kitchen, the walls painted a dark purple coated in green tiles. The kitchen was suprisingly clean for a drunk man, dishes put away and table clean.

It was the strangest sight I'd seen in the last five minutes for each time I turn a corner, a new sight would catch my eye.

"So, why did you call me Pete last night?" I asked Stitch. Stitch blushed, eyes to the black and white tiled floor.

"Pete is... well... my boyfriend" He muttered. I stopped eating, trying not open my jaw to reveal my breakfast of toast and orange juice.

"You're gay?" I asked, trying not to sound shocked, remembering that this was the man with his arms around me last night.

"Yes" He said.

"Do you..." I couldn't finish my sentence.

"Explain" Stitch said.

"Do you... with Pete?" I asked nervously. Stitch still looked blank. I sighed and put my index finger through a cupped fist, knowing that if this didn't work I'd have to say it aloud in which I would rather not. Stitch face lit up, he'd got it.

"Oh! Yer! All the time, bum his up the arse and lick his-" I cut Stitch short with whatever question I could think of, the mental images getting too pornographic.

"What does he look like?" I asked urgently.

"Well to be honest, he kinda looks exactly like you" Stitch said.

"Me?"

"Yer, he's got a brown mullet, big blue eyes, pale skin and same height, but he dresses differently" He said, eyeing at my tight peach coloured skinnies and black chelsea boots. Stitch picked up his jacket that looked like Howard Moon's Library suit and skulled the last of his coffee.

"I've got to go, duty calls" He said.

"You have a job?"

"I don't looked the type, do I?" He said, pulling a smile that I couldn't help but giggle at. He grabbed his bag from one of the red plastic IKEA seats and began to walk out the door. I was on his tail, grabbing onto his shoulder before he could walk out the door.

"Um, when a stranger appears at you're flat, don't you think a day off work is necessary?" I asked.

"I can't afford to take a day off, you'll have to entertain yourself until I come back" He said, as if it was a casual thing to do. I stood in the kitchen as he grabbed several items from around the flat. "Now, theres a TV there, do you know what that is?" He grinned, I nodded and held in my giggles. He pointed out items so fast, his hand was a blur. "DVDs. CDs. Fridge. Paper. Porn Mags just in case. Pencils, Toilet. I think thats it" He came over, kissing me on the cheek and stumbling back as he realised what he'd done. "Wow... sorry about that..."

"It's ok..."

"I thought you were Pete again..."

"Yer... its ok..."

Stitch nodded, his cheeks turning red, he ran out the door. The flat was empty.

There was just me.

Back to square one.

Good old square one.

I let out a small whimper as I realised how big the room was and how small I was compared. There was always someone with me at my flat.

Always.

Dee. Michael. Sue. Rich. Russell. Dave. Paul. Nemo.

But I didn't go a day... without seeing Julien.

Julien.

My filler of scary black space.

My knight armed with a guitar.

My reader of maps (Considering my map reading skills are those of a sitck bug thing)

My College.

My aquantance.

My friend.

My love.

LOVE?! YOU HAVE GONE OFF YOU'RE ROCKER NOEL! (Not that I had a rocker in the first place) I slapped myself, the stinging on my cheek pulling me back into the giant kitchen. I decided to walk around the flat, hoping to wear off the clostaphobic fear. There were four rooms in his flat.

Bathroom (Which had the toilet in it which I think is pretty fucked).

Kitchen.

Bedroom.

Living room.

It was actually a nice flat, I could actually live here. I flicked through the videos in the living room, my eyes laying on a small tape labelled For our Holy Lord. I put it in the VCR, picking up the remote and pressing play.

"Oh. Pete. I want every muscle of you inside me"

"OH STITCH GOD AND MARY! GIVE ME MORE!"

"What about this?! Hurt?"

OH MY GOD! THIS IS PRACTICALLY X!

I grabbed for the remote, pressing stop and pulling out the tape and putting it back were it had lay. I shuddered, why did I have to find out what Pete looked like in that way?!

I reminded to ask Stitch why he made porn movies and continued my journey through the normal yet fucked up flat. I felt like Alice in wonderland, everything seeming too big. My breath started to get short, causing me to grasp my throat.

Oh shit.

No!

I hated it.

Spaces.

Small.

Enclosed.

Spaces.

I dropped to my knees and started taking big gasps of air, choking on nothing.

I had to calm down.

What could calm me down?!

But then I remembered what Julien told me to do, when I started to panic.

'Act the Vince'

Act the Vince?

ACT THE VINCE!?

HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO 'ACT'THE VINCE!?!

You are Vince!

You own The Mighty Boosh!

He's practically you're brother!

So... act the Vince.

My eyes laid on the bike helmet, a naughty smile that a evil five year old would give to the puppies in the window spreading over my face.

"Act the Vince" I commented aloud.