Everyone ready for Chicago?

Mike: After our last couple of adventures, I'm not so sure.

Micky: Please tell me ONE thing will go as planned!

Davy: It couldn't be worse, could it?

(We open as the MonkeeMobile crosses a bridge overlooking Chicago, Illinois. Cut to in the car. Davy has shotgun now, Mike's driving, and Micky's in the back.)

Mike: (Sighs) We're just gonna do some sightseein' here, fellas. Cubs game, the Sears Tower, that stuff. We'll do that for two days, then we'll drive straight home and only stop to sleep.

Micky: *unenthused; chin propped in one hand, arm leaned on the side of the car* Yeah.

Davy: *turns around* Come on, Mick, it wasn't that bad! You still got on some of the rides.

Micky: Then we got busted and lost even more of our limited cash. *pauses* Couldn't you guys have stopped me or something?

Davy: *shrugs* We don't 'ave Lauren with us.

Mike: It ain't like we didn't try, Mick. We're just gonna turn in for the night, then get a fresh start in the city in the mornin'.

Micky: *sighs tiredly* Good.

Davy: *nods, turning back to the front* I think we ALL need that.

Mike: (As he turns onto a ramp) There's supposed to be a pretty cheap hotel up here by the waterfront.

(Fade out on the MonkeeMobile as it heads down the ramp. Fade in on a dim, blighted city block, filled with crumbling row houses covered with graffiti, overturned trash cans, dirty streets, and people of all nationalities and races in skimpy or gaudy clothing standing on street corners.)

Mike: Shit. I didn't think the waterfront had gotten THIS bad!

Micky: *eyes wide; whispers* Oh my Lord.

Davy: I'm thinking this wasn't the best idea.

Mike: I don't even SEE water.

Ursula: Gentlemen, I suggest we leave this place as soon as possible. We have no business being in a place like THIS.

Micky: I agree with Urse!

Mike: I second that emotion. Let's get outta here. (He slams on the pedals and the MonkeeMobile jumps into gear. We see Mike almost literally swinging around the city until they stop in a residential area that, if not exactly posh, is cleaner than what they just left, with no suspicious people milling around. Mike leans back in his seat) This is crazy. This trip is cursed, or somethin'.

Ursula: What are you going to do now? It's getting very late, and even if this neighborhood is an improvement over what you just left, it's not the waterfront, either.

Davy: We could sleep in 'ere, I suppose. It'd save us what little money we 'ave left.

Mike: (Nods) In fact, we'd better skip hotels for the rest of the ride home. We'll either sleep in the woods or in here.

Ursula: Is that advisable? I know how all of you feel about close quarters.

Davy: And Micky's snoring.

Micky: Hey!?

Mike: Ok you two, knock it off. (He grabs Davy and Micky before Micky can jump over the seat, then turns to Ursula's monitor) No Urse, it's not advisable, but short of wirin' the girls for money, we don't have a choice.

Ursula: Very well. In that case, gentlemen, I suggest we all turn in for the night.

Mike: Ok, who gets which seat?

Micky: *folds his arms* I'm already here.

Mike: And I'm here, so (grins) looks like you're the one who's gonna have to move, Dave.

*Davy grumbles as he gets out and climbs into the way back.*

Mike: (Settles down in the front seat) Ok, guys, pleasant dreams. We'll figure out what to do about breakfast in the mornin'.

*We fade out as the guys make themselves as comfortable sleeping in the MonkeeMobile as they can. We rejoin the fellas in the morning, with Micky now driving and reading street signs.*

Mike: So, where are now?

Micky: Um...oh! *points at a sign up ahead* Whacker! That's the one we need!

Mike: Ok. We're really gonna need to find a place to get out soon. We'll need to make a pit stop, restock the cooler, call the girls and tell them we'll be home in a few days, and buy a street map.

Micky: *turns onto what is actually called Lower Whacker, which takes them below street level* Uh, this is weird...

Mike: (Raises his eyebrows) Um, this street is awfully narrow.

Ursula: Maybe we should back out.

Micky: *glances in the rearview mirror* Not possible, there's traffic behind us. Looks like we're just gonna have to follow it.

Ursula: I don't know if I can make it through! :o

Micky: Urse, there's no way to back out & nowhere to turn. We've already managed to get down here. We're just gonna have to follow it until we can get out.

Ursula: I'm a very big girl, and that's a very narrow street.

Mike: We'll MAKE you go through if we have to. Maybe we could imagine you narrower.

Micky: *points ahead of them* If that tour bus can squeeze through here, I think we'll be fine.

Ursula: Very well. I'm going to be needing gas soon, and I'm sure all of you will want a rest stop.

Davy: The soonah, the bettah.

*Micky does his best driving through the narrow street among the stop and go traffic.*

Davy: Mates, I'm getting queasy back 'ere from all this stopping and starting.

Ursula: You think YOU'RE queasy?

Mike: Hey, we're doin' the best we can here!

Micky: We don't have much of a choice.

Ursula: Watch out for the street vendors!

*Nearly an hour later, finally, the MonkeeMobile pulls out of Lower Whacker, back onto street level. The car pulls to a stop across the street from a large building. Several food vendors occupy the sidewalk across the street.*

Mike: Good. We'll stop here and get some lunch, then go to that little convince store on the corner and restock the cooler. We might be able to find a public restroom around here somewhere, too.

(The guys climb out and head for one of the vendors. Another young man is also buying food from the vendor. He's tall, with dark hair, tanned skin, and a toothy smile. He's dressed in colorful Mediterranean peasant garb.)

Mike: We'll have two hot dogs (looks at Micky) ....make that six hot dogs, three bags of chips, and five sodas.

*Micky grins.*

Davy: At least we'll get some this way.

Young Man: (Smiles) Hello. You must be very hungry to eat all that food!

Mike: We ain't had any in a while.

Young Man: Where you come from?

Mike: Out west.

Micky: *smiles* I'm going to take a guess you're not a native of Chicago yourself.

Young Man: No, I'm from Mypos, in the Mediterranean. I move here to live with Cousin Larry a few years ago. He not from Chicago, either. He from Madison. That’s in Wisconsin, where they have cheese.

Mike: Nice meetin' ya, pal. We really should get goin'...

Micky: Hang on, Mike. *puts a hand on Mike's shoulder to stop him* Do you work around here?

*Davy wondered if he knew where Micky was going with that question.*

Balki: We do. Right over (points to the building to their right) there, at Chicago Chronicle. We’re in the basement. My cousin is an investigative reporter, and I deliver mail.

Micky: You work at a newspaper? That's wonderful!

Mike: (Whispers to Mick) Mick, what are you doin'? We don't know these people from Adam!

Micky: *whispers* Gimme a chance here! *normal* Say...uh, Balki, was it? I have kind of a favor to ask.

Balki: Yes, Curly-hair?

(Mike snickers at that name.)

Micky: *grins* I'm Micky. Anyway, my friends and I have not been having the best of luck on our little vacation. We had to sleep in our car last night. All we really need is a bathroom.

*Davy nods. That was exactly where he thought Micky was going.*

Balki: Oh. I see. We have lots of bathrooms in the Chronicle! I'm sure you could use just one!

Mike: (Mutters to Micky) Freebee bathroom trip. Very smooth.

Micky: *mutters* You're welcome. *normal* Oh, thank you so much, Balki! We really appreciate it! I know how tough it is with strangers and everything.

Balki: (Nods) Yes. Cousin Larry always tells me, "Do’n speak to strangers, they may hurt you." (Grins again) But he was wrong. You didn't hurt me!

Micky: *grins as he slings an arm around Balki's shoulders* Why would we hurt someone who's helping us? *nudges Balki closer in his grip* Maybe I could have a word or two with your, uh, Cousin Larry about strangers.

*Davy bites his lower lip in order to not bust out laughing.*

Mike: (Sighs) Let's just eat our lunch and meet this "Cousin Larry."

(Cut to a cramped two story basement area. Balki stands with a small, nervous, curly-haired young man behind a desk while Mike and Micky eat lunch and wait for Davy to finish in the bathroom.)

Balki: Aren't they nice people, cousin? They from out west, and the tall one with dark hair sound like a movie cowboy! They must be ranch dressers!

Larry: *shakes his head* No, Balki, I don't think they are. Actually, they look familiar. *runs a hand through his hair* Anyway, I still can't believe you brought strangers in here.

Balki: They not strangers! They're tourists, and I talked to them for a whole five minutes!

Larry: Of course, Balki! How could I have been so stupid! You must know them inside-out then! *sighs loudly*

Balki: No cousin, I don't know their insides out. How can I know their insides out if their insides aren't out?

Larry: No, Balki... *rubs at his temples* What I meant is talking with someone you've just met for five minutes doesn't mean they aren't still strangers.

Mike: (He finally walks over to the pair, followed by Micky) Look buddy, we don't really know you, but I can tell you now that we ain't gonna hurt either of you.

Balki: Of course not, don't be ridiculous! (Nods at Micky and Mike) See, cousin? These are nice people! (Smirks) And you were worried!

Larry: Alright, fine, I was wrong, but pardon me if I prefer to feel one-hundred percent comfortable with someone or something before let them get close.

Mike: I understand that. I wouldn't have gone with this if we weren't desperate and broke.

Balki: See? We are being nice! These people visit Chicago, but have no money, so we help.

Micky: *moves next to Larry* You're kinda neurotic, aren't you?

Larry: *blinks in surprise* Uh, well... *sighs* yes.

Mike: Mick, don't needle the poor guy. He's just bein' sensible.

Balki: Cousin Larry isn't just neurotic. He's...VERY neurotic.

Micky: What? You didn't let me finish.

Larry: *groans, pinching the bridge of his nose* I need to remember to pick up some antacid on the way home tonight.

Mike: Yeah, I think I'm gonna need to buy stock in several antacid companies after this trip.

Micky: I was gonna say he reminds me of you, Mike. *shrugs* And there's nothing wrong with that, especially since I kinda tricked Balki into letting us come in here to use the bathroom. *grins sheepishly*

Balki: You trick Balki?

Micky: I didn't mean any harm. We've just had such a terrible last few days that we needed SOMETHING to work out in our favor.

Larry: I understand that very well.

Mike: Don't take it personally, Balki. He's real good at trickin' people. He's even tricked me a couple of times.

Balki: (Shrugs) Well, no bad things happened, and we made some nice new friends!

(Davy finally emerges from the bathroom.)

Davy: Did I miss anything good?

Balki: (He puts an arm around Larry's shoulder) Meet my Cousin Larry! Cousin, these are...um...

Mike: I'm Mike.

Davy: Davy.

Micky: *still with an arm around Larry, nudges him again* And I'm Micky. By the way, ever try to straighten your hair?

Larry: *looks confused* What?

Mike: (Takes Micky's arm) Well, we've gotta be goin'. It was nice meetin' you boys. Thanks for lettin' us use your bathroom.

Larry: Uh, sure.

*Davy takes Micky's other arm, and he and Mike pull him out of there.*

Balki: Any time! (Turns to Larry) Now, weren't they nice people? Even if the curly-hair trick me, I still like them.

Larry: *sighs* You like everybody, Balki. You even liked Mr. Twinkacetti! You like Gorpley! *sits down at his desk* Balki, just promise me that if you make any more new friends, you’ll keep them to yourself, okay?

Balki: Even the curly-haired ones?

Larry: *subconsciously runs a hand through his own curls* Yes, Balki.

Balki: You no fun sometimes, Cousin. (He shakes his head as we fade out on them)