(We open in the kitchen of the Montgomery House. Davy and Mike go through boxes while Peter kneels by a pair of long legs extending from under the sink.)

Mike: I hope that's all the Christmas decorations.

Peter: I think so. (Turns to the legs) Need anything, Mick?

Micky: Got an adjustable wrench, Pete?

Peter: Yeah. (He hands Micky a wrench)

Mike: You guys finished playin' with the pipes? We could use a hand here!

Micky: *sighs* I'm not "playin'" with the pipes, Mike! I'm trying to fix the drip!

Peter: Michael, we've been wanting to get someone to fix this for ages.

Mike: Yeah, well, if you want to get these Christmas decorations up soon, you might want to finish that and help us.

Davy: Yeah, there's an awful lot 'ere for two people.

Micky: *annoyed* I'm going as fast as I can, Mike!

Peter: Fixing things can't be rushed, Michael!

Mike: Need me to take a look, Mick?

Micky: No, Mike, I'm fine. I'd get this done a lot quicker if you'd stop pestering me about it!

Peter: Michael, Davy, we'll be there as soon as we can.

Mike: (Makes a face and drops a string of lights) This is annoyin'. I'm just gonna take a look in there and see what I can do.

Peter: Michael, Micky doesn't need...

(Mike ignores him, gets on his needs, and peers under the sink.)

Mike: (Concentrates) Maybe if we just did this...

Peter: Michael, I don't think our powers...

Micky: *starts to move out from under the sink* Hey, guys, it's fixed, so...

Mike: Micky! (He pulls back suddenly. As he does so, his eyes seem to focus on Micky. There's a blue light around him.)

Peter: Michael, what did you do?

Mike: I didn't know Mick was comin' out!

Davy: Mates... I don't like the look on 'is face.

Micky: *frowns, then looks at his dirty hands & starts to giggle* I'm all dirty.

Mike: Uh, yeah, Mick. You're dirty. We'll go home and hit the showers after we get the decorations organized.

Peter: (Eyes widen) Oh...his aura...

Micky: Nahhh! I don't wanna clean up! *Jumps up, rubs the grime from his fingers onto Mike's face, and giggles.*

Davy: Wot?

Mike: (Slaps Micky's hand away) Mick, cut that out! What's gotten into you?

Peter: His aura looks like the ones on the kids!

Mike: What?

Micky: *pats Mike's cheek* Tag! You're it!

Davy: Oh, this is just great.

*Micky runs, but stops at the door and turns, looking to see if he's being chased.*

Mike: Micky, we ain't playin' games! We've gotta get these decorations organized! Don't you want to start decoratin' for Christmas?

Peter: Micky, how old are you?

Micky: *grins* Five! *holds up one hand, showing all his fingers*

Peter: Michael, under the circumstances, I don't think it'll hurt to play one game with Micky. (He smiles) But it'll just be one game. After that, we have important things to do. We have to get ready for Christmas.

Micky: *wide grin* I LOVE Christmas!

Peter: So do I. And if good little boys want to get presents from Santa, they have to behave and help out.

Micky: *nods* I'll be good, I promise!

Peter: All right. We'll play one game with you, but then you have to help us decorate.

Mike: Pete, we need to get this done!

Peter: (Ignores Mike) We'll play tag with you, Micky.

Micky: *Hops up and down, clapping* Oh boy, oh boy! *Points at Mike* You're it! *Dashes out of the room*

Davy: 'Ow do we ourselves into these things?

Mike: Me? Why me?

Peter: Michael, we need to keep him busy while we figure out exactly what happened. (Grins) And since you're it.... (He takes off)

Mike: Maannn... (Eyes Davy and grins)

Davy: Don't look at me like that! *starts to run*

("Your Auntie Grizelda" begins as Mike chases Davy down the hallway. Peter, who was hiding behind a potted plant in the living room, takes off in the opposite direction.)

*Micky peeks out from the closet he's hiding in.*

(Mike sees Micky and lunges for him.)

*Micky dives out of the closet, leaving the door open, and takes off down the hallway.*

(Mike ends up landing in the closet, eating a face full of coat as Davy and Peter hurry past.)

(Mike chases Peter upstairs. Peter ducks into a room to evade him. Mike opens the door...to find Peter half-dressed. He screams, and Mike slams the door closed, blushing.)

*Micky is hiding under a bed. He sees Mike stop right in front of the bed. He reaches out and unties Mike's laces, then ties them together. Micky grins.*

(Mike looks around the room and shrugs. No one here. He starts to leave...and then trips, landing face-first on the floor. He drums his fingers on the floor, making a face.)

*Micky slides out from under the bed, crawling over Mike as he does. When he makes it across, he gets up and runs out the door.*

(Mike jumps up, but just ends up falling over again. He leans over to untie and re-tie his shoelaces, grumbling.)

Peter: (Over the music, as he runs out of the attic and locks the door) Don't go up there! It's dark! (He runs off, Mike in hot pursuit.)

*Micky slides down the banister and crashes into Davy. They land in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.*

(Mike grins when he sees the two. He leans over and tags Micky's shoulder as Peter joins them.)

Mike: Ok Mick, you're it!

Micky: Goodie! *reaches for Davy, but Davy takes off* Aww!

Mike: Oh no, you don't! (He takes off as well, followed by Peter)

*Davy runs out into the garden, Micky not far behind. Davy hops easily over some of the bushes. Micky moves to go around, but trips and falls behind the bushes. Davy glances over his shoulder and stops when he doesn't see Micky giving chase.*

Davy: Mick?

Mike: (He and Peter hurry out) Micky! Are you ok?

Peter: Mick, did you get a boo-boo?

*Micky pushes himself up on the ground, looking at both palms, which are skinned. There's a small hole in the knee of his pants. His lower lip quivers.*

Davy: *reaches Micky* Uh oh.

*Micky lets rip with a VERY loud cry.*

Peter: Oh dear. (He sighs as the music ends and takes Micky in his arms, stroking his curls) There there, Mick. It's nothing we can't get cleaned up. This happens to Jordan all the time.

Mike: (He and Davy throw their hands over their ears) Man, he's louder than an air raid siren!

Davy: *rubs at an ear* I can't 'ear outta this one anymore.

Peter: Why don't we take you to the downstairs bathroom and see if we can some alcohol and a band aid for your hands and knee? I'm afraid there isn't much we can do about your pants, though.

Mike: (Pats Micky's shoulder) It's ok, kid. How about, after you get cleaned up, we'll go through the Christmas stuff?

Micky: *sniffs* Can we? *gives a hopeful look*

Mike: 'Course, we can. That's what we're here to do today.

Micky: 'Kay.

Davy: Come on, mate, lets get you cleaned up.

Peter: (Takes Micky's hand and helps him to his feet) Ok, Mick. Do you mind if I stay with you?

Micky: Please?

(Peter leads Micky into a small bathroom. It's so small, all it has is an old-fashioned sink, a toilet, a small shelf with linens, and a medicine cabinet. Peter takes a long tin and a bottle out of the medicine cabinet.)

Micky: *points at the bottle* What's that? It isn't burny stuff, is it?

Peter: (Sighs) I get this from Jordan, too. It's just rubbing alcohol, Mick. It'll sting a little, but it won't really hurt you.

Micky: *lower lip quivers* Promise?

Peter: Promise. I'm not a very good liar. (He puts some of the liquid on a cotton ball and rubs it on Micky's skinned hands)

*Micky chews his lower lip as he watches Peter clean his palms.*

Peter: There. (He smiles) All done. Now (he pulls out a small tube) for the ointment. This won't hurt at all, but it might feel a little cold and gunky.

Micky: 'Kay.

(Peter gently rubs ointment on Micky's palms, then covers both with bandages. He does the same for Micky's knee.)

Peter: There. All done!

Micky: *smiles* Thank you! Can we go work on the Christmas decorations now?

Peter: Sure! We'll need all the help we can get. There's lots of decorating to do for this big house! (He takes Micky's hand and leads him out of the bathroom.)

Davy: *Grins as Peter and Micky enter the room* 'Ow was the patient, Doctah Petah?

Peter: He fussed a little when I had to clean his hands, but other than that, he was a model patient.

Mike: Good. We can get goin' on these decorations now. We have to get all the outside stuff together and all the boxes with the stuff for the rooms together.

Peter: If there's anything for the ballroom, just put it aside. Valerie usually hires professional florists to do the ballroom, since she uses it for company functions.

Micky: I wanna do the lights!

Davy: I'm not so sure that's a good idea, mate.

Peter: Why don't I help you, Mick?

Micky: *whiny; stomps a foot* I wanna do them by myself!

Davy: *rubs his other ear* There goes the othah ear.

Peter: Perhaps someone needs a nap.

Mike: Yeah. You're gonna go to bed if you don't behave, kid.

Micky: Nooo! I wanna do the lights!

Davy: Mick, just let Petah 'elp you with the lights.

Micky: *still whiny* But I can do them!

Peter: Micky, calm down.

Micky: *Folds his arms and pouts* I just wanna do the lights! *He sits on the floor, continuing to pout.*

Davy: Mates, we've got a problem, 'ere.

Micky: I wanna do the lights!

Peter: George Michael Dolenz, if you don't behave, I'm going to have to put you in a time-out.

Mike: Micky, knock it the he...knock it off!

Micky: *frowns* NO!

Davy: Come on, Mick, just cooperate a little.

Micky: *shakes his head* No, no, NO!

Mike: (Raises his hand) You're cruisin' for a brusin', kid.

Micky: You don't scare me!

Peter: (Pushes Mike's hand down) No, Mike. I don't really think it's a good idea to spank him at his age. (He points to a chair in the corner of the kitchen) He will sit in that chair for five minutes, and if he makes one peep out of it, I'll raise it to six.

Micky: I won't sit over there! I won't!

Davy: *Tries to lift Micky up* Mick, just go ovah there, or Mike will want to do worse than spank.

Micky: *wiggles out of Davy's grip* Lemme go!

Mike: (Holds up his fist) I don't care what age you currently think you are. I WILL use this.

Peter: (He takes Micky's hand) Micky, if you sit in that chair, you'll get to help us with the Christmas decorations when your time out is done.

Micky: I wanna help NOW!

Davy: Now we know wot 'is mom 'ad to go through. *grins* We should send 'er some flowahs.

Mike: Yeah, for his funeral. (Grabs Micky and sits him bodily in the chair) Sit DOWN!

*Micky's lower lip quivers again. Slowly, his eyes start to tear up. He lets rip with another loud cry.*

Davy: *covers his ears again* Mates, make it stop!

Peter: (Kneels before Micky) Micky, look at me. Listen to me. It won't take very long for you to just sit here and think about what you did. In no time at all, you'll be helping us! You just have to learn to be patient.

*Davy rolls his eyes, hearing that Micky has to be patient.*

Micky: *sniffs; tears are still rolling down his cheeks* All of you hate me.

Peter: We don't hate you! We're just a little frustrated with you right now.

Micky: Yes, you do! You hate me! *cries again*

Peter: Why do you think we hate you?

Mike: (Mutters) 'Cause you're wailin' like a screechin' cat and actin' brattier than any of your kids. (Peter elbows him)

Micky: *plays with the hole in the knee of his pants* Be-because y-you guys w-wanna d-decorate a-and I w-won't be-behave. I j-just w-wanna h-help a-and sh-show th-that I c-can d-do it m-myself.

Peter: (Gently takes Micky's hand away from the hole) Micky, you're too young...at least, you're thinking too young...to do it all by yourself. (Smiles) Besides, it's more fun to do things together! Jordan helps me with a lot of things I do here!

Micky: *sniffs* I-I'm s-sorry.

Peter: That's all right, Micky. Don't you like being with all of us?

Micky: *sniffs again, but smiles* Yeah.

Peter: We're all going to do this together. We work much better when we're a team.

Mike: Yeah, man. We've really learned a lesson 'bout that this year.

Micky: *nods, then pauses, looking at each of the guys* Can I leave the corner yet?

Peter: (Looks at his watch) I think you've had enough time.

Micky: Thank you! *Jumps up and hugs Peter.*

Peter: (Nearly knocked over by the force of Micky's hug) You're welcome, Mick!

*Davy laughs.*

Mike: Maybe I ought to change him back now. He must have gotten in the way when I tried to fix the sink, and I somehow ended up "fixin'" him instead.

Peter: But I don't know how that would result in Micky behaving like a five-year-old.

Davy: *shrugs* It's in our powahs.

Davy: *taps Micky's shoulder* 'Ey, Mick, 'ow'd you like to see a magic trick before we start decorating?

Micky: *Wide grin* A magic trick? I LOVE magic tricks! *Lets Peter go* Who's gonna do the trick?

Mike: I'll do the magic trick, kid. (Grins) But in order to do it, you have to hold still. You can't move a muscle.

Micky: I can do that! *stands still* Can I still blink?

Mike: Uh, yeah.

Micky: *grins* 'Kay.

(Mike concentrates. There's a blue light around Micky. He's still standing straight when it subsides.)

Mike: Ok, Mick. How do you feel now?

Micky: *blinks* Huh? What... *sees his hands* how did this happen?!

Mike: You tripped while we were playin' tag.

Peter: Mick, you don't remember anything about the last half-hour or so?

Micky: Why were we playing tag? I thought we were gonna gather the boxes of decorations after I finished the sink? *turns to Peter* Last thing I remember is finishing with the sink.

Davy: Which was about a 'alf an 'our ago, mate.

Micky: A half an hour? *Looks down and sees the rip in his pants* Aw man, I just GOT these pants!

Mike: Uh, this one's my fault, Mick. I was usin' my powers to help you finish the sink...and I ended up fixin' YOU instead.

Peter: And I hope we all learned a little lesson about patience here. Good things really can't be rushed.

Micky: *rubs at the back of his neck* So, why was I playing tag? How did you "fix" me?

Mike: Uh, somehow, I made you think you were five years old. (Groans) All I wanted was to tighten the pipes for you!

Micky: Oh kayy....

Davy: By the way, mate, we're sending your mom some flowahs.

Micky: Flowers? Why?

Mike: 'Cause now we know what she went through raisin' YOU...and she deserves them.

Micky: I wasn't that bad!

Mike: Tell that to our ear drums.

Davy: That's debatable, mate. *Pauses and grins* Did you 'ave the same set of pipes at five as you do now?

Micky: Hey, that's not fair! I don't even remember what I was doing five minutes ago! If I was yelling or anything, it's Mike's fault for zapping me!

Mike: Well, I was just tryin' to help you with the pipes!

Micky: But I was finished with them!

Mike: I didn't know that at the time!

Peter: Whoa! (He gets between Mike and Micky) Come on, you two. Let's remember the spirit of the season. The pipes are finished, and they seem to be fine.

Micky: *rubs at one palm* I was just trying to help. I couldn't help it if today was the first chance I had to look at the pipes.

Mike: (Nods) Yeah, I should learn to be better at waitin'. I shouldn't have bugged you 'bout the pipes.

Peter: There. Micky, you did a good job. The pipes aren't dripping anymore. Why don't we get started on organizing these Christmas boxes? The sooner we start, the sooner we can decorate our houses for Christmas!

Mike: (Strokes his chin) Yeah, if we can get all this stuff together, I figure we could start decoratin' tomorrow mornin' while the twins are at school and the other kids are with their moms.

Micky: *slowly grins* Can I do the lights?

Davy: *slaps his forehead* Not again.

Micky: *gives Davy an odd look* What?

Peter: (Shrugs) I don't see why not. (Sighs) However, there will be a few ground rules with the Montgomery House. This house is too big for you to cover with lights. I don't care what you do to your own house, but please keep exterior decoration for this house fairly simple. (Grins) Or my wife will sic a battalion of lawyers on you.

Mike: I'm gonna help you with the Pad's lights.

Micky: *gives Mike a look* Oh come on, I can do them myself!

Davy: Anyone else recognizing this argument?

Mike: You could, Mick. (Smiles) But we work better when we're a team.

Mike: Besides, you don't live at the Pad anymore, and Em said she didn't want anythin' stapled to the house that shouldn't be.

Micky: But I wasn't the one who stapled their sleeve to the overhang, was I?

Davy: No, but you did staple your pants one year.

(Mike and Peter burst into laughter.)

Micky: Hey man, that was the first year at the Pad!

Mike: (As his laughter subsides) 'Sides, Mick, the Pad is now the Nesmith residence, and this Nesmith wants some say in how the lights look.

Peter: We'll all help you with all those lights on your house too, like we did last year.

Micky: *nods* All right. Man, even almost six years later it's still hard to let go.

Mike: We understand that, Mick. Heck, I'm the last person who should be talkin' 'bout lettin' go of things. (Shrugs) I guess it's time to let a lot of things go.

Peter: But we won't be doing anything if we don't get these boxes sorted!

Davy: Petah's right, mates. They won't sort themselves. (Glares at Micky) Don't even think about it, Mick. Let’s do this manually.

Mike: Yeah. We've had enough fun with our powers for one day.

Micky: Maybe you did...

Peter: You'll get your chance to use your powers, Micky, and you'll do amazing things.

Micky: *grins* Just WAIT until you see what my house looks like.

Peter: (As Mike and Davy groan) That's not quite what I meant, Mick.

Micky: Oh. *blushes a little*

(We fade out on the guys' groans as Peter hands out boxes to sort and Micky blushes.)