Ok, Micky, Mike, you guys ready to keep Kevin out of trouble?

(Mike grumbles.)

Micky: I'm ready and rarin'!

(We open with "Apples, Peaches, Bananas, and Pears." Kevin and Micky drag Mike into a large, dark club. The only things visible are the ball on the ceiling and some psychedelic effects. Mike makes a face, plops in a chair in the back, and grabs a drink from a waitresses' tray.)

*Micky goes up to the bar and orders. He comes away with a fancy drink with a small umbrella sticking out of it.*

(We see a group of men in good polyester suits, hats, and jewelry sit behind Mike's table. He frowns and leans over to listen to them, but it's practically impossible in the noisy club.)

(Kevin also has a drink with an umbrella in it. He slurps it noisily and happily. Two girls come up to him, giggling and squealing. One takes Micky's arm. Kevin puts his drink down on Mike's table and walks out to the dance floor with the other girl on his arm. Mike makes a face and shoves Kevin's drink aside, then steals a drink from another waitress.)

(A shadowy form on the edge of the club, near the hat-check girl's desk, speaks into a walkie-talkie. He points at Micky and Kevin.)

*Micky tries to excuse himself from the girl, but she won't take no for an answer. She drags him to the dance floor.*

(We fade in on another club as they dance, in a montage of clubs. Kevin collects more girls as we go along. He has three girls in a tropical-themed club. Mike sips a drink in a pineapple, still trying to hear the men behind him. Two more shadows drink pineapple drinks while keeping an eye on Kevin.)

*Micky just dances by himself, doing as best as he can to keep the girls at bay.*

(We switch to yet another club, this one a country-western theme, as the music ends. Mike now drinks beer and wears a cowboy hat. The men in polyester now sit at the bar, as Kevin, also in a cowboy hat and no shirt, dances with six girls. Three shadows gather around the dark back of the club, near a neon beer sign.)

*Micky wears a cowboy hat and fringed jacket now. He’s still just trying to dance alone, thought now he has three girls following him.*

(Mike finally goes up to the floor and drags Micky over to the table, looking slightly bright-eyed but not too bad.)

Mike: Micky, could ya sit down for five minutes and give me a hand here? :p

Micky: Huh? Aw, Mike! :P

Mike: Shhh! (Points to the bar) See those guys?

Micky: Uh, yeah, I see 'em. Why?

Mike: Micky, you aren't THAT shit-faced. What are a bunch of guys in fancy suits and hats doing in a county club mostly populated by kids and rednecks?

Micky: Oh. Good point. Dunno.

Mike: Micky, you watch more TV than I do. What do all the bad guys on cop shows look like?

Micky: *sighs* Like them.

Mike: We've gotta get Kevin outta here, then find a phone somewhere that ain't here and call the cops. I couldn't catch most of their conversation, but I'd bet those guys ain't here 'cause they like gut-bustin' chili and Hank Williams.

Micky: *nods* Let’s get goin'!

(Mike and Micky push their way through the kids and older adults on the floor to Kevin, who is now surrounded by nine young women, all laughing and giggling and asking for autographs and mooning over him.)

Mike: (Pulls a young woman aside) Sorry, miss. (Shakes Kevin's shoulder) Kev? Hey, Kevin?

Kevin: (Looks up - and he IS rather bright-eyed) Huh? Can't 'cha see I'm busy? :p

Mike: Kev, we've gotta get outta here.

Kevin: Why? I'm havin' FUN!

Micky: Have fun later, business now.

Kevin: You two are jus' jealous, 'cause I'm gettin' all the chicks and you ain't. :p

Mike: You can't get chicks if you're dead.

Micky: And we already HAVE chicks.

Kevin: So? I'm gonna have FUN. No one ever lets me have any fun! It's always "go to bed, Kevin, sign your fan mail, Kevin, you can't go there, Kevin, they'll mob you." Well, to HELL with them!

Mike: (Growls and clenches his fists) My two-year-old daughter acts more mature than you do. X(

Micky: Mike, I say we remove him BODILY.

Kevin: Huh? I thought my body was still here!

Girl 1: It LOOKS like it is!

Girl 2: Maybe this is one of those psycho-freak-out things!

Mike: You take his upper half and I'll take his lower half.

Micky: Got it.

(Mike finally grabs Kevin's shoulders and Micky picks up his feet, and they both carry him out of the bar and onto the grimy LA street.)

Kevin: Whatdid'ja do THAT for? I wasn't done in there!

Mike: (Makes for a phone booth) Those guys in the fancy suits said you were.

Micky: Whether you like it or not.

Kevin: I didn't HEAR them say it!

Mike: They whispered it. (He slides coins into the machine) Come on...

Kevin: (Slightly slurred; he sways a little) I wanna go back in! I was havin' fun! It's not fair! I never get to have any fun! X(

Mike: Pipe down out there! I can't hear myself think.

Micky: Quiet down, before we MAKE you.

Kevin: But I liked bein' with those girls! (He doesn't see the men in the suits walk out, now wearing dark sunglasses as well) McStaren won't let me do anythin'! Those girls didn't tear me apart! They liked me! I wanna go back in!

Mike: Hello, operator? Get me Sargent Lester Nielson, as fast as you can. (Sighs) Yes, it's an emergency. (Growls) Someone MIGHT die if you don't get him on the damn phone!

Kevin: I just wanna do something fun! Don't you ever do fun stuff? (He's still whining as one of the men in the suits tap him on the shoulder)

Micky: *eyes widen as he notices the man* Uhhhh...

Man In Suit 1: Hello, Kevin Casserman. We wanna have a little chat with you.

Kevin: I wanna...(frowns)...huh? Who'er you?

Man In Suit 2: We represent an old friend of yours.

Kevin: Could we discuss this inside?

Man In Suit 2: No, we're gonna settle this now. You owe our friend The Huge ten thousand dollars, and he'd like to see that paid back now, with a little interest.

Kevin: I ain't payin' nuthin!

Mike: (Cut to him in the phone booth) Could you guys keep it DOWN out there? I can't hear Nielson! :p

Micky: Uh, Mike...

Mike: Mick, what is it?

Kevin: I ain't payin'! I made that money fair and square!

Micky: *points* We've got company, Mike!

Man In Suit 3: (Grabs Kevin; another grabs Micky from behind) Oh, we have ways of changin' your mind, little boy. (Holds a knife to his throat) This ain't gonna kill you. It'll just kill that valuable voice of yours. (Moves the knife to Kevin's face as he squeals) Or maybe we could do a little plastic surgery, right here and now. You're too pretty for your own good.

Micky: Leave him alone!

(Suddenly, the man holding Kevin is hit on the head by a phone receiver as "Oklahoma Backroom Dancer" begins. Mike grins and takes the knife from the man, brandishing it at the thugs.)

*Micky flips the man holding him over his shoulder, send him sprawling on the ground.*

(Kevin passes out as the girls from the bar run out and lean over him. Some try to help him; others grab at his clothes.)

(Mike is hit from behind by another thug, but he hits him, and the two of them get into a brawl that ends with Mike being sent bodily through the swinging door and into the bar.)

*Micky plows into the thug who send Mike into the bar, and tumbles in right after.*

(Mike landed against a bunch of really big guys in too-tight t-shirts and cowboy hats. He tries to apologize, but he's still feeling the effects of liquor and the knock-out punch and isn't getting through to them. One takes a swing at Mike. He does have the sense to duck, allowing the man to knock a thug into the bar instead.)

*Micky jumps onto the bar and grabs hold of the wrought iron chandelier. He swings out on it and kicks a thug and two of the big guys that Mike ran into.*

(The girls continue to moon over Kevin, though they've now had the sense to bring him into the bar. He has a very big smile on his face.)

(Mike ducks another swing, allowing a thug to trip over Kevin and into a roughneck.)

*Micky still hangs off the chandelier, but drops himself onto the big guys knocking them into a table and a couple thugs.*

(Mike joins Mick on the pile of thugs and roughnecks. We see their backs as they emerge. Mike turns...and shows the camera that he now has a very nice black eye.)

*Micky turns to show off a bruise and matching cut on the left side of his forehead. He grins despite it.*

(The cops run in, with Nielson behind them. Most of the thugs who can move take this as their cue to head out. Kevin begins to come to as the music ends and Mike and Micky join him and the girls and the cops round up the remaining thugs.)

Kevin: (Squints) Oooh, my head... (looks up and smiles at the guys) Oh, hi. Have a good time?

Mike: You might say that.

Kevin: Hey...(squints again)...you have a black eye!

Mike: No shit, Sherlock.

Micky: Well, that was fun.

Kevin: You had fun and I missed it?

Girl 1: It was a nasty bar fight!

Girl 3: I thought it sort of looked like fun myself.

Kevin: And you didn't ask ME to join in! I miss everything!

Mike: Sorry, but your handler would have a fit if we let you show up at the concert tomorrow night with bruises and black eyes, or better yet, dead. :p

Micky: So we took the injuries for you.

Nielson: (Goes to the boys) Hi, fellas. Having a good time?

Mike: Depends on your idea of a good time, Nielson.

Nielson: We lost the head thug, but we did catch a few of them. Nice work, both of you.

Mike: Thanks.

Nielson: (Turns to Kevin) What the HELL are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at home, under protection?

Kevin: Why? It's a free country. I can do whatever I wanna do!

Girl 2: Not if someone's going to hit you!

Mike: We've been tryin' to explain this to him.

Nielson: Maybe he needs to hear it from someone older. (Leans forward until he's face-to-face with Kevin) Look, kiddo, I don't play your shit. You are not some little teenager who can run around and get Mommy and Daddy mad. It's MY job and my MEN'S job to make sure you don't get killed, and I'm the kind of cop who does his damn job. Frankly, I could care less if you live or die, but for some reason, half the girls in America want you to live, and they buy records. Got that, Donnie Osmond?

(Kevin's reaction is to let out a very loud burp, duck under the camera's view, make retching noises, and pass out on the girls again. The girls squeal and pull away.)

Girl 3: Eeeww, gross! He barfed all over the cop's shoes!

*Micky snorts, trying to not bust out laughing.* ;)

Nielson: (Steps back; bawls over his shoulder) COULD SOMEONE COME AND CLEAN THIS UP?

Mike: (Makes a face) Oh, man...

Nielson: (Looks at the boys) Well, did you find out anything?

Mike: Other than the spoiled brat can't hold his liquor?

Nielson: Other than the obvious.

Mike: One of the thugs said the guy's name is "The Huge."

Nielson: "The Huge?" He's an up-and-coming LA mob boss. Started small, but is getting bigger...and wanting bigger pieces of the pie, including payment from several now well-known folks who took out money from his loan sharks.

Mike: And our little friend Kevin here musta been one of those folks.

Nielson: Yeah, he's just enough of a desperate dope to do something stupid like that.

Mike: Good, we found out what's going on. Can we have out of this now?

Nielson: (Shakes his head) We're still going to need your help. We know who's doing it, but we still have reason to believe he'll try to sabotage the concert tomorrow night.

Mike: Man.... (He runs a hand through his shaggy, thick black hair)

Micky: In that case, we're still glad to help.

Nielson: (Frowns at the two Monkees) You boys better get along home after I get your official statements. Those bruises are going to be very attractive and very sore in the morning.

Micky: We're used to it.

Mike: (Gingerly touches his rapidly darkening eye) Yeah. Em's gonna have a shit fit the size of the Pacific when I show up like this.

Micky: I get banged up worse by the twins than this. *points at his forehead*

Nielson: I'm gonna go question those thugs. They're probably just hired hands, but they might still know somethin' useful, maybe even about tomorrow night. You boys get a good night's sleep, and I'll see you tomorrow. (He heads over to where the other cops handcuff the thugs and read them their rights)

Mike: (Sighs) Mick, this is the CRAZIEST thing I ever let you talk me into...and given some of the things we've done, that's saying a lot! :p

Micky: *shrugs* But you gotta admit, it's been fun so far.

Mike: Yeah, we ain't had a good bar brawl in a while. (Makes a face as he tries to squint into the light) Man, maybe we oughtta take Nielson's advice and get on home, before the other bar patrons come to or the girls get bored with Kevin and recognize us. Nielson could probably call someone to take Kevin home.

Micky: That is a good idea, though.

Mike: Good thing we talked him into taking the MonkeeMobile instead of a limo. I'm not crazy about being out wandering around at this hour myself, but at least we won't have to take a cab or a bus durin' it.

(Cut to outside as the two head out. Mike now has an ice pack on his eye, and Micky has one on his shoulder and a band-aid on his head.)

Mike: Man, whoever this "Huge" guy is, I hope he takes the hint after tonight. Nielson ain't gonna let him sabotage that show.

Micky: I hope so, too. For that matter, we ain't gonna let him sabotage it, either.

Mike: (Sighs) I dunno. On one hand, that kid drives me crazy. Nielson's right. Kevin is a spoiled little boy who whines when he doesn't get his way. On the other hand...even he doesn't deserve to be carved up by some nutjob mob boss and his boys, even if it IS his fault the whole thing happened in the first place. :p

Micky: He didn't know what he was getting into, or at least not the extremes of it.

Mike: How do we get caught up in this shit?

Micky: Just lucky.

Mike: All depends on your point of view. (Looks at his watch) Let's get home. Lauren will have my head if I don't deliver you by sun-up in at least decent condition.

Micky: Damn straight. And Em will have yours...well, probably no matter what anyway. ;)

Mike: (Laughs) Damn straight. (He tries to wink, but only ends up with the ice against his eye again)

*Micky chuckles.*

(The two walk around the corner to the parking lot where the MonkeeMobile is, laughing all the way.)