Spice Up Your Life
Scene One
"I wanna be free
Like the blue birds flying by me
Like the waves out on the blue sea
If your love has to tie me
Don't try me
Say goodbye"
Davy stooped down and reached out to the crowd while continuing the song. The audience screamed and the girls in the front row reached up to touch their idol. The Monkees were on "Top Of The Pops", singing their hit song "I Wanna Be Free". Suddenly, Micky froze, right in the middle of the song. Peter and Mike glanced back at him, concerned. Davy meanwhile was still enjoying being with the girls and continued singing.
"Whooooa... who is that...?" Micky sighed, with a faraway look in his eyes.
"Micky!" Mike growled, "Play the song!"
"Oh... uh, okay, Mike..." Micky said and started playing again, while continuing to stare at someone in the back of the crowd.
As soon as the song finished, Micky, in a trance, tried to make his way past the crowd, but was quickly discovered by some fans.
"Micky! Micky! We love you!" they cried, but Micky continued walking, oblivious.
By that time, Mike had caught up with Micky and grabbed him by the arm. "Mick, where are you going? You can't come out here, they'll tear you to bits!" he said, and pulled him backstage.
"M-M-M-Mike! Over there, I, uh, wha, uh, that girl!" Micky cried, grabbing his head in frustration and pointing, but Mike ignored him.
"Micky! There you are, man! We've got to get going!" Davy said when the two returned. Micky continued to try to escape, but now all three Monkees were dragging him towards the exit.
Not too far down the hall was a reporter and his camera and sound men. "We are about to see The Monkees coming fresh from their performance on 'Top Of The Pops'. They will be coming down this hallway... oof!" the reporter said to the camera, suddenly being knocked off balance by a flurry of people walking by.
"Sorry!" one of them called, but kept going. The reporter looked at the group, shocked.
"The... that was them! I thought you said they were coming down this way?" The camera man just shrugged. "Argh! Can't you do anything right? Hurry up, see if we can catch up with them!" The reporter started running after The Monkees, but it was too late; they had already reached the exit.
"Alright," said Mike, "They said that if we left out back, we could get to the bus without running into any fans. I think this is the door we're s'pposed to use..." He pulled on the door, but it wouldn't budge. "Oof... err...ohh...!" he said, and continued to pull, but without success. Mike mustered up all the strength that he could, and proceeded to kick the door open. "Hrumph!" he said, as he brushed himself off and went through the door.
The others followed, with Peter bringing up the rear. "Hey, uh, Michael? The door says 'Push,'" Peter said, but was ignored.
Suddenly, to the boys surprise, they saw a sea of people waiting outside the doors. The Monkees sighed, but made their way through the crowd, toward their bus.
"'Eyyy! 'Ello! Yeah! " Davy cried, and started signing autographs along with the others, but they were quickly ushered to their Monkee Bus waiting to take them to their next destination. They'd gotten a huge bus transformed into a type of house on wheels, with a kitchen and bathroom, and a bedroom for each Monkee.
Once inside, they each went to their rooms. There were no doors, and all the rooms were connected to the middle of the bus where there was a small lounge. Peter went to his room and picked up a book, Mike headed towards the kitchen, Davy ran to the couch in the lounge, and Micky bounced after him.
"Wot's this? Why, look who's on the cover!" Davy exclaimed, picking up the latest issue of Tiger Beat, adorned with a giant Davy Jones head. "That's 428 for me, and 392 for Micky!" he said and began marking the score down. Micky grabbed the magazine from Davy's hands and started flipping through the pages.
"What? Only one colour photo of Davy Jones? Who would ever buy that?" Micky remarked sarcastically, continuing to browse through it.
Suddenly, a cry came from under Peter's bed. "OWW!"
"Peter! What happened?" Mike called from the kitchen. Peter emerged from under the bed, rubbing his head.
"I can't find my beads!" he pouted.
Mike scanned the room quickly and immediately spotted Peter's love beads. He rolled his eyes and said "I'm sure they're around here somewhere..."
"Ohh!" Micky cried, gleefully.
"Did you find them?" Peter asked, hopefully.
"No, it's better! Horoscopes!" He held up the magazine proudly. Peter hopped over and looked at the open page.
"Aw, come on Mick, you don't really believe that stuff," Mike said, sitting on his bed.
"I'm a believer! " he told him, "You only don't believe because you're a... Capricorn," he said the word with disgust.
"What? You got a problem with Capricorns, eh?" Davy asked defensively.
"Ooh, Micky, your beads sure are groovy..." Peter said, admiring them. "Hey... waitaminute...!" he said, jumping up. "I forgot to look in the couch!" he remembered, and started throwing around the cushions, searching for the lost love beads.
"Petah! Don't interrupt!" Davy growled, then turned to Micky, "You better not be insultin' us Capricorns... or I'll... I'll..."
Micky grinned at him. "Or you'll what...?"
Peter continued to search frantically, when suddenly...
WHAP!
...one of them hit Micky right in the back of the head!
"AHHH!"
And soon enough, all three were throwing pillows at each other.
Mike sat on his bed, shaking his head.
Scene Two
Meanwhile, in an apartment not too far away...
"Will the real David Jones please stand up?"
"...I am standing up!"
"Ha ha ha, oh, man, these guys are great!" Mack Pickelson said laughing and watching The Monkees television show.
"Hmm..." he wondered, "These guys already have a number one song and a hit television series... the obvious next step would be a movie..." he scratched his chin and stood up.
"And I'm just the person to do it!" he smiled, the wheels in his head already turning.
Scene Three
Later that day, The Monkees are rehearsing for their upcoming concert, with the reporter they encountered earlier above the stage, filming...
"Why am I standing here
Missing her and wishing she were here
She only did me wrong
I'm better off alone
She..."
"She devoured all my sweet 'n low..."
"Hold on, hold on!" Mike cried, turning around. He looked at their new back up singers, who looked embarrassed.
"Did we do something wrong?" the girl at the microphone asked, blushing.
"'Sweet 'n low'?" Davy cried, and shook his head. Peter and Micky giggled to themselves.
"Take a look at the lyrics," Mike told them, covering his mouth so they wouldn't see him laugh.
"Hi guys!" came a voice from the back of the auditorium.
"Phyllis!" Mike cried, putting down his guitar and running over to greet his wife. The other Monkees, as well as the film crew, gathered around.
"Would you shut that darn thing off?" Mike yelled at the crew, then turned to Phyllis. The crew paid no attention and continued filming. "How's the baby?" he asked.
"He's been kicking all day," Phyllis replied, sighing. Mike gave her an encouraging smile and held her hand.
"Boy, Phyllis, I'm sure glad that I'm not in your position!" Davy said, laughing.
They continued to chat with Phyllis for a while, but Peter decided they needed to get back to work.
"Guys, we need to get back to work," Peter said. Everyone groaned and trudged up to the stage. Once they were all there, they started into "Mary, Mary".
Not about to miss a great filming opportunity, the reporter and his crew began moving their equipment to the balcony seats above stage and started to tape The Monkees rehearsing.
Scene Four
In the office of Rob Roy Fingerhead...
"Ugh, The Monkees again?" Rob Roy threw down the newspaper in disgust.
"They're what's 'in' right now," Brad, his assistant, said. "As long as they're popular, we have to keep publishing articles about them."
"But I'm sick of them!" Rob Roy complained."We need a new angle!" he groaned and began pacing around the room. "I've got an idea!" he said suddenly.
"Well, let's hear it!" Brad said.
"The Monkees, Live Show... Cancelled... The Monkees, TV Show... Cancelled... The Monkees... Split Up!" Rob Roy yelled, banging his fists on the desk.
"Whoa..." Brad said, impressed, "I like it!"
"Think of all the papers we'd sell! We'd be rich!" Rob Roy squealed, twirling his moustache. "Mwhahahahahahahaha!"
Scene Five
Back in the Monkee Bus...
"Gee, guys, do you think I should wear the blue shirt or the red shirt?" Davy asked, going through his closet, "then there's always the mustard shirt..." Everyone rolled their eyes and allowed Davy to continue mumbling and throwing clothes around.
Micky came from the kitchen carrying a bag of chips. "Man, this is so much better than back at the old house!" he cried gleefully, dropping the bag on his bed. Everyone rolled their eyes and allowed Micky to continue mumbling about food.
"Check," Mike said, moving his bishop. He put his elbows on the table and looked at Peter.
Peter thought for a moment, looking at the chess board. He scratched his chin, scratched his head, scratched his back. Finally, a big smile came over his face. "Go fish!" Peter declared.
"What?!?" Mike asked, now staring at him.
"Uh oh..." Peter said, "Did I do something wrong?" he asked, recognizing the look on Mike's face.
Mike sighed. "Peter, we're playing chess, not Go Fish. We've been over this before."
"Oh..." Peter frowned. He bit his lip and surveyed the board.
"...Mr. Green, in the hall, with the revolver?"
"Oh, Peter," Mike said. He shook his head and went off to his bedroom. Peter's lip quivered and he started sniffling. Micky noticed this and bounced over to him.
"Hey Big Pete, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting in Mike's chair. Peter shook his head and bit his lip. "Aww... it's okay, don't cry -"
"WAAAAAAAAH!" Peter wailed. Micky sighed and patted him on the back. After a few minutes of crying, Peter finally was able to squeak out "Why am the dummy? I'm always the dummy!!"
Davy was lying on his bed listening to Peter and Micky. "Well at least you don't 'ave to be the cute one. Now that's a 'ard role!" Peter burst out crying again.
"Yeah, you know, people are really shallow," Micky said. "But listen, Pete, when we're 64, no one's gonna remember that you were the dummy."
Peter smiled a little at this. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
Mike emerged from his room. "C'mon guys, we've got to go to that press conference." Everyone groaned and moaned, but soon they were all ready and out of the bus.
Scene Six
Meanwhile, back to Rob Roy Fingerhead and Brad...
"Listen Rob, I found the guy you're looking for, he's the best, he'll be able to get you more dirt than you ever wanted on The Monkees!" Brad said, sitting on the desk and grinning.
"Huh. Not very likely. What's his name?" Rob Roy asked, skeptically.
"Damien."
"Damien what?"
"I don't know, don't think he has a last name," Brad told him.
"Alright. Send him in!" Rob Roy instructed. A man wearing all black -- his hat, coat, sunglasses, socks -- entered the room. "How do we know this guy's any good?" Rob Roy asked. The mysterious man took a file folder out of his coat and presented it to Rob. Rob's face went pale as he saw the pictures, they were all of him.
"August 16, 8:12 AM," the man said, pointing to one of the pictures, "You, at the bus stop."
"August 17, 4:32 PM, you, in the lift, pickin' yer nose."
"He's good..." Rob Roy said. He continued to sift through the pictures. "He's very good..." Suddenly, Rob Roy looked up. Then he looked at Brad. Then they both looked to the camera.
"He's gone!"
Scene Seven
At the press conference...
"Man, everyone always dresses so over-the-top at these things!" Micky said pulling on his table cloth. Mike adjusted his sparkly cowboy hat. Davy straightened his red eight button shirt. Peter fingered his love beads.
"Hey guys, can we have a word with you for a minute?" a reporter asked, approaching them. Several others followed, and soon enough they were blinded by the light of the flashing cameras.
"When is your next album coming out?"
"Davy, do you have a girlfriend?"
"Has success changed your life?"
"Is it true you don't play your own instruments?"
At that question, everyone quieted down and moved in closer to hear the answer.
"Well, of course we do! I mean, we just played live in front of a bunch of people, and if we aren't playing our instruments, we're in a lot of trouble," Mike said, defensively.
"I heard you had a band backstage, you just faked it like on TV," one reporter commented.
"No! That's... no! " Micky stuttered.
"DAVY!!! MARRY MEEEEE!!! DAAAAAAAVY!!!" a young girl cried, pushing through the crowd. She managed to grab onto Davy's arm, but was quickly pulled away. Davy grinned.
"All right, that's enough, these boys have got to get going," a man said, shooing the reporters away.
But that was more than enough information for some people. Slowly, Damien, the mysterious photographer, lifted the white frilly tablecloth that he was hiding under. He snapped one last shot of the group and disappeared once again.
Scene Eight
That night, in the bus...
"For Pete's sake, Mick, will you stop all that dancing around?" Mike growled, looking up from his book.
"I can't help it, Mike! I have to use the john... uh... comfort room!" he complained.
"Then use the one in the back, what's the problem?"
"It's broken!"
"Then use the one in the front, what's the problem?"
"It's broken!"
Mike sighed and turned down the corner of his page before laying it on the table. "I'll ask them to stop to bus so you can go outside."
"Eeeeeew!" Davy squirmed, looking away from his mirror.
"Did your reflection scare ya, Dave?" Micky asked. Davy gave him a look.
Mike jogged to the front of the bus and returned a minute later informing Micky he could go. Micky hopped off the bus and ventured into the nearby forest. He probably went in farther than he should have, because soon enough, he couldn't remember which way it was back to the bus.
"Uh... guys?" he called. No reply. "Huh..." Suddenly, the ground shook violently, causing Micky to fall over backwards. There was a mighty crash just beyond the large tree in front of him, and for a second, he was blinded by a bright light. Cautiously, he stood up and hid behind the tree. When he didn't hear anything for awhile, he peeked out.
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" he cried. Just a few feet away from him was a dark green creature that could only be described as one thing: an alien.
"Mrphfgkklnmrtpqrff?" it asked.
"Yeah, Micky Dolenz, that's me," Micky said.
"Prrftckrhgws?"
"Nah, I'm not an alien, I'm a Monkee."
"Cinnfrdkkrktpoklssdf?"
"No, no, no! The kind that sings!"
"Wrugrumdfklbnmjklmn?"
"Aww, I'm sorry, all the tickets are sold out."
"TBTBATMPACJFNBDJBH!" the alien cried.
"Hey, well, is there anything I can do to make up for it?"
"Ycuvderfkludmijacogeo?"
"Sure, what do you want me to sign?" Micky asked, grabbing a pen from his back pocket. The alien produced a photograph of Micky and handed it to him. He autographed the picture and handed it back to the alien. "Here you go!" he said happily. "Listen, the guys are probably wondering what's taking me so long, I've got to get back."
"Gbkkrterkfwedvj!" the alien said, "jaumchsyfmalsifp?"
"Oh, no no, that's not a pussycat. It's a telephone," Micky explained.
"Ludhfpaidmelfjd!"
"No problem!" Micky said, as the alien retreated back to his space ship. Micky watched as the contraption flew away and shook his head.
"They'll never believe this..." he said to himself, and headed back to the bus.
Scene Nine
The next morning at a nice outdoor cafe...
"So, what's this all about, Mack?" Mike asked, sitting down next to Mack Pickelson. The other Monkees followed and sat around the table.
"Listen guys, I have this great idea for a movie," Mack said.
"But we've already done a movie, 33 1/3 is coming out next week!" Peter said.
"No, Peter, that's just a TV special," Micky told him.
"Anyways, maybe we should try for an action movie -- get this -- The MonkeeMen!" Mack suggested.
Davy frowned uncertainly. "Action, huh? Couldn't I break a nail?"
Mack laughed, "No, no... besides, there'd be a cute girl for you to save."
Davy grinned. "Oh, well, maybe we could make an exception..."
"Can you just picture it? All the merchandising... action figures... lunchboxes...!"
"Yeah, yeah, but what's it all about?" Micky asked.
"Well, first, there's Peter. Unfortunately, he's not the best flier, but by the end of the movie, he'll be a pro. Then Micky, he's great at distracting and confusing the bad guys. Davy can charm any one into doing anything. And Mike is a master of disguise..."
"Hmm..." Mike thought...
(move your mouse over the picture to see what Mike is thinking)
"Uh... y'know, Mack..." Mike said, "I think we'll pass. We've really got to be going, but if you come up with any other ideas... uh... don't tell us!" He and the boys scurried off.
Scene Ten
"MONKEES TV SPECIAL BOMBS!" screamed the headlines.
"Brad... Brad..." Rob Roy Fingerhead said, motioning to his assistant and shoving the paper in his face. "Look at this! Isn't it wonderful?"
Brad grinned evily.
"Brad... Brad..." Rob Roy Fingerhead squeaked, "My face! What's happening to my face?"
"I think you're smiling," Brad informed him.
"HEE HEE HEE HEEEEEEE !"
Scene Eleven
"MONKEES MOVIE BOMBS!" screamed the headlines. Mike threw down the paper in disgust.
"Hey, c'mon Mike, it's not that bad," Micky told him.
"Yes it is! This is a disaster! Guys, this could be the end! " Mike growled. Peter started to sniffle.
"Ah, Pete, 'e was jus jokin'," Davy said, patting him on the back.
"No, I'm being completely serious," Mike told him.
"'Ey, well I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so! I said, we need at least four close-ups of me per minute! " Davy yelled at him.
"Pffft. There were more shots of you than necessary," Micky said, "I told you guys that 'Listen to the Band' wasn't long enough, but noooo, you wouldn't listen!"
"I've had enough of you guys for one day, I'm going home!" Mike announced and stormed off leaving the rest of them on the bus.
"I'm out of here!" Davy yelled.
"Fine!" Micky yelled, "we don't need you, anyway!". He crossed his arms, but smiled at Peter apolegetically. "I really should be going, too," he told him, and made his way to the door. "Hey," Micky said before leaving, "it's not like we're breaking up or anything."
Peter nodded, but didn't look much happier. He sat on the couch for a few moments more. "Gee, Mike's gone home for the weekend... Micky and Davy got mad and left... I think I'll go see April!"
Scene Twelve
Mike was in his bedroom surrounded by papers and pens. His guitar sat against the wall. He picked it up and began strumming a bit, but soon put it down. He couldn't stop thinking about the guys. "Man, I might've really upset Peter... but could this be the end...? He needs to be prepared for what's coming..."
He put his guitar on its stand and went to his closet to grab a jacket. He passed through the kitchen where Phyllis was cooking.
"Hey Mike, what's wrong?" she asked.
"I'm going for a drive," he said.
"Alright... don't be too long, okay?" she said, but he'd already left.
Scene Thirteen
Davy had somehow found himself at the old beach house. He smiled at the "Keep off the grass" sign and pulled at the doorknob. It was open.
He stepped inside. It looked just as it did when they'd lived in it before, but now it was empty. No more posters on the wall, no Mr. Schneider...
He went upstairs and to the bedroom. No beds, no beads, just cobwebs and dust. He sighed and turned to leave.
BANG!
"AAAAAHHHHH!"
"Davy!"
"Petah!"
"Don't do that!" they both cried.
Suddenly there was a noise from downstairs.
"Who's there?" a voice called.
Peter leaned over the railing. "Micky!" he greeted him happily.
Micky emerged from the downstairs bedroom and smiled up at Peter. Davy came up beside him and Micky frowned, but they all made their way to the living room.
"It looks so... so..." Peter started to say.
"Empty? Big? Old? Haunted?" Davy suggested. Peter bit his lip and looked behind him to make sure there was nothing that would jump out at him. Unfortunately, he was looking the wrong way.
"Hey!" came a voice from the back porch.
"Don't do that!" Micky cried. Mike ran over to the others.
"What are you guys doin' here?" he asked.
"Same as you," Davy replied coolly.
After a few moments of silence, Peter said, "Guys, let's not fight anymore... please?"
Peter looked at Micky. Micky looked at Davy. Davy looked at Mike. Mike looked away.
"Fine with me," Micky said.
"Me too," Davy said.
They all looked at Mike. He nodded. Peter grinned.
"Hey, I wonder what ever happened to Mr. Babbit..." Micky wondered.
"Yeah, we still must owe him a few months rent!" Davy remarked.
"A few months?" Mike chuckled.
Peter leaned up against the wall. "Guys... have... have we changed?" he asked. "I mean... we never get together anymore for fun, it's always business... we never get time off, and I know Mike's hardly even home for Phyllis, and with the baby coming soon..."
"Yeah..." Micky said, "Before it was 'Where's our next meal coming from?' now it's 'Where's our next single going to?'"
Mike rubbed his hands together, trying to keep warm. The windows had been smashed, letting the cold air from the ocean into the house. "Well, I should probably get back to Phyllis " he said. "Uh... do you guys want to come for dinner?"
The others looked to each other, then to Mike. "Sure!" Micky said and smiled. They all linked arms and walked out of the house.
Scene Fourteen
After stopping at the Nesmith's home to pick up Phyllis, The Monkees soon found themselves at a nearby club. Davy immediately approached a pretty girl and started chatting, while Micky and Peter went to listen to the band. Mike and Phyllis sat at one of the tables.
The band quickly saw that they had a special audience and tried to get Peter and Micky up on stage to play a number with them. Peter quickly agreed and the guitarist handed him his instrument. Micky ran over to Davy and pulled him away from the girl. He told him to get up on stage, then made a motion for Mike to follow.
Mike shook his head and waved Micky away. Not one to take 'no' for an answer, Micky was soon over at his friend's table, pulling him to the stage as well. Mike smiled apologetically to Phyllis, who smiled and waved back to him.
"What song should we do?" Peter asked the band.
"How about 'Clarksville'?" suggested the band's drummer. Peter nodded and turned to the other Monkees, who also agreed. Mike started playing the opening riff and the room started to cheer.
The song was going great, but about halfway into it, they lost their drummer. Mike looked back at him, fed up that this was happening so often. But this time, he did not see a look of love or amazement; this time, he looked concerned.
Mike followed his gaze and it landed on Phyllis. She was clutching her stomach and had an awful look on her face. He immediately put down the guitar and ran through the crowd to his wife. Micky followed after him, and soon Peter and Davy saw what was happening. Peter quickly apologized to the other band and ran after his friends.
"Phyllis, honey, what's wrong?" Mike asked, bending down beside her.
"I think it's time!" she moaned.
"Oh my god," Davy muttered, "Does anyone have a cell phone?" he asked loudly. Receiving only confused looks, he ran to the pay phones near the restroom.
"No time!" Micky yelled to Davy. Davy hung up the phone and ran back to the group.
"C'mon, we'll get her onto the bus and drive to the hospital," Mike said, helping Phyllis up. They hurried out the door towards the Monkee Bus.
"Hey!" Mike roared once they were at the bus doors, "Where's the driver?"
"Isn't it his day off?" Davy asked. Mike hurled the doors open and jumped into the driver's seat. "Get her onto the couch," he instructed, "I'll drive."
"No way!" Micky told him, pushing Mike aside, "You need to be back there with her, I'm driving." Mike started to argue, but bit his tongue and nodded. Phyllis and the other Monkees hurried into the back. Micky turned the keys and soon they were off.
Phyllis was lying down on the couch with the other Monkees surrounding her.
"Uh, guys, what happens if the baby comes out right now?" Peter asked uncertainly.
"That's not going to happen," Mike told him. Phyllis groaned and clutched her stomach again.
"Shouldn't we do something?" Davy asked, alarmed.
"I don't know what we can do," Mike said. He turned to Phyllis, "Are you comfortable? Do you need pillows or anything?"
"That would be nice," she said before letting out another groan. Mike rushed to his room and grabbed a bunch of pillows.
Soon enough, they were at the hospital. Phyllis was immediately taken away, The Monkees were left in the waiting room to, well, wait.
After a few minutes, Mike decided he couldn't just stay there. He tried to talk a doctor into letting him into the room, and eventually he succeeded. The others waited and started absent-mindedly looking through magazines that were sitting on the coffee table.
"Uh... excuse me..." a woman approached the three, "but... you're The Monkees, aren't you?"
Davy smiled, "Why, yes we are, and what can we do for you?"
"Well, you see, my daughter, she's in a coma, and I was hoping you could..."
Peter stood up and held her hand, "Show us the way," he said. The woman lead them down the hallway, and the soon found themselves in a plain white room. In the middleof the room was a white bed with white sheets and a small girl lying in it.
"What's her name?" Micky quietly asked the mother.
"Melanie," she replied. "Could you maybe talk to her or...?" Micky nodded and walked up to the bed.
"Hello Melanie," he whispered, "this is Micky Dolenz."
"'Ello Mel, I'm Davy Jones," Davy said quietly.
"AND I'M PETER TORK, MELANIE!" Peter yelled. Micky and Davy glared at him. Peter looked down, embarassed.
"Sooo... now what?" Micky asked.
"Heh heh, maybe you should take your shirt off, Davy," Peter said, chuckling.
"Pfft, as if he doesn't do that enough already," Micky said.
Davy glared at the others. "It wouldn't work anyway, 'er eyes are shut."
Suddenly, the girl's eyes fluttered open.
"Not now they aren't," Micky chuckled.
Scene Fifteen
Soon all four Monkees were in Phyllis' room, who had now calmed down quite a bit. They'd been there for at least an hour and nothing had happened yet.
"I spy with my little eye... something that starts with... uh... um... H!" Peter said.
"Hospital," Micky said dully.
"Shut up," Davy said equally as dully.
Two nurses came in soon after to see how Phyllis was doing. When they were done, they chatted for awhile in the hallway.
"So, what are you doing tonight Victoria?" the first nurse asked.
"I'm going to see The Monkees!" the second nurse said gleefully.
"Aw, why isn't that nice?"
"Oh yes! I'll see you guys later," Victoria said to The Monkees, "...hopefully." She giggled and left the room.
"Guys have a show to go to, you don't need to stay here; the baby may not even be born until tomorrow!" Phyllis said, getting up.
"Absolutely not. We said we'd stay, so we'll stay," Mike said firmly.
Phyllis smiled a little, "Okay, okay... I know there's no use arguing with you."
The phone rang and the remaining nurse answered it. She held it out to Peter, the nearest Monkee. "It's for you," she said. Peter took the phone and stood beside the receiver.
"Hello?" he said.
"Who is it?" Davy asked.
"The guy from the concert hall," Peter told him. "Uh huh... uh huh... I know... yeah... we know... we'll be there, okay?" he slammed down the phone. The others looked surprised.
"What is it, Petah?" Davy asked.
"They said we were supposed to be there an hour ago, but we have more important things to do."
"AAAAAGGGGHHH!" Phyllis cried. "I think this is it!" The nurse ran over to her and instructed Peter to find a doctor. Mike held Phyllis' hand and Micky and Davy backed off, afraid of what would happen.
A doctor arrived quickly, and soon enough, the baby was born, perfectly healthy, and already wearing clothes. Of course, no one thought anything of this.
"Guys, you've got to get to that concert," Phyllis told them, "and I won't take 'no' for an answer!" The Monkees knew better than to argue with her, and so they quickly ran down the halls towards the exit.
Suddenly, a tall man wearing a doctor's uniform ran towards The Monkees and bumped into Peter.
"Oh, hey, I'm sorry, man, are you okay?" Peter asked, stopping the man.
"I don't believe it -- 'e's got a camera!" Davy said, pointing at him. The other Monkees whirled around to look at him.
"An... an... emergency!" the "doctor" yelled, running in the opposite direction. They run after him.
Suddenly, the man crashes to the ground, and the boys come face to face with their tabloid tormentor.
The photographer gets all choked up. "You know what, boys, I've been living a terrible, meaningless lie."
"WHAT?!?" you ask. How did this happen? Suddenly, he's this wimpy little guy? This can all be explained in one simple sentence and that is...
Oh, wait! Now The Monkees are on the bus, but once again, the driver is nowhere to be found!
"Where's the driver?" Peter asked.
"Didn't you hear the narrator? He's nowhere to be found!" Micky told him.
"I'll drive!" Davy volunteered.
"You?" Mike laughed, "You can barely see over the wheel!"
Davy smirked and ran back to his room. He grabbed a phone book from under his bed and put it on the driver's seat and sat down. "I can see just fine," he said, sticking his tongue. Mike rolled his eyes and ushered the others into the back. "Step on it!" he ordered Davy.
Suddenly, The Monkees are on top of the bus! Peter begins to slip, but then Mike grabs him, but then Mike slips, so Micky grabs him, but then Micky slips, so Davy...! No, Davy's driving the bus. So now they're all slipping and sliding back and forth on the top of the bus! Luckily, they fall into the bus and land safely on the couch!
Just as they were about to cross over the bridge, Davy cried out, "OH MY GOD! THE BRIDGE IS GOIN' UP!"
But come on, these are The Monkees! They're not going to turn back! Davy puts a determined look on his face and pushes down on the gas.
WHOOOOOOOOOSH!
They made it! They're over the bridge! Yaaaaay!
Suddenly, Micky opens a compartment in the floor of the bus! "AAAAAHHHHH!" he yells. It's a bomb!
"AAAAAHHHHH!" yell the other Monkees.
"WHAT?!?" you might ask. How did this happen? Where did the bomb come from? Haven't they suffered enough? Well... I suppose you're right.
The Monkees run out of the bus and up the stairs to the concert.
"Hold it!" comes a voice from behind them. They turn around. "Where do you think you're going?" the police officer asks.
"Well, we're late for a concert and..." Peter started.
"Shut up," he says, pushing Peter away. "Okay, weirdos, just what were you doing back there?"
"Uh... in the bus... you mean?" Micky asked.
"Yeah, yeah," the man nodded, "You! Fuzzy Wuzzy!" the police officer points to Micky.
"Well, uh... um..." Micky stuttered.
Mike pushed Davy forward. "Talk to him!" he whispered.
"What do I say?" Davy asked. The Monkees shrugged. "Well, uh, we were just in a hurry to get to the concert because we were late, and we promise to never ever do it again," he said and smiled sweetly.
"Weeeell..." the policeman said, "I guess I can let you go then..." and smiled.
Scene Sixteen
Inside the dressing room...
The concert manager was pacing around the room. "Where are they? The concert is about to start!" The reporter who was at their dress rehearsal earlier was sitting on the couch with his crew, filming the preparations for the concert.
"Alright," the manager said, plopping down on a chair. "The curtain goes up, the lights come on, the crowd goes wild, and I walk onstage... and hang myself."
"My final words are, The Monkees, I hate them -- "
Suddenly, The Monkees burst through the doors!
"'Eyyyy! Wot are you doin' sittin' around? We've got a show to do! Come on! " Davy cried, running past him and into his dressing room.
"Some people have it dead easy!" Mike remarked.
The manager smiled, "I love those boys!" he cried, and ran off.
The reporter sighed. "Well, there goes our perfect ending."
Scene Seventeen
"Then I saw her face
Now I'm a believer
Not a trace
Of doubt in my mind
I'm in love
I'm a believer
I couldn't leave her if I tried"
The Monkees put on a wonderful show, right on schedule and everything went absolutely perfectly.
But I know what you're thinking.
...
What happened to the bomb on the bus?!?
KABOOM!