Ok, everyone, ready to begin our next story?

Mike: (Wary) I ain't too sure.

Peter: I am! I'm looking forward to our new Mexican trip! :D

Micky: I'm ready!

Davy: Me too, mates.

(We open on a dusty road in Mexico. We have a splendid view of jungles, cliffs, towns, and farms as the bus, a large red vehicle with the Monkees logo splashed across both sides, rumbles around a corner. Cut to inside the vehicle. Emma reads a book next to Mike, who works on a song. Peter and Valerie chat quietly.)

*Micky drives and argues with Davy over the map and Davy's apparent inability to read the map. Daphne sleeps, snoring lightly, her head occasionally falling on Lauren's shoulder. Lauren gently moves Daphne's head and goes back to gazing out the window...until the next time Daphne's head lands on her shoulder.*

(Five black men in the back argue over a poker game.)

*Nyles and Jack argue over a game of "I Spy".* ;)

Mike: Hey, Mick, at the risk of soundin' like the kiddies...are we there yet? ;) :p

Micky: It isn't too much farther, as long as Dave doesn't turn the map upside down again. :P

Davy: It’s not like I did it on purpose!

Emma: (Sighs and puts her book aside) Thank god we left Katie and Jordan with Val's father and Chrissy and the twins with their grandmother! I don't want to think of what it would be like to have three toddlers and a baby aboard, too!

Mike: Guys, we've been lost six times since this mornin'! I knew we shoulda hired a real driver!

Micky: I AM a real driver! I can't help it if my navigator doesn't know his left from his right.

Davy: One more crack like that, mate...

Mike: Someone who has experience drivin' a bus!

Valerie: (From behind the chair) He's only driving because the original driver quit in Acapulco, remember?

Mike: (Mutters) I think someone spiked his drink with somethin'.

(Emma elbows him.)

Valerie: Micky, if you don't figure out where we're going, I'M going to mutiny and take over the driving!

Micky: Dave's the one giving me the wrong directions.

Davy: And I'm telling you I didn't do it on purpose!

Valerie: I don't care WHO'S doing it, just STOP it!

*Davy grumbles.*

Emma: Is that it? (She points out the window, and the camera cuts to a shot of faded red Spanish-style tile roofs and fairly old-looking and cracked stucco walls peeking over trees and buildings.)

Valerie: (Eyes widen) THAT'S the hotel?

Micky: Finally!

(The bus rolls into the front of the huge building, which is in a clearing surrounded by jungle. Two Hispanic men, one fat and balding, one thin and beaming, run out as everyone climbs off the bus. The hotel has, to be kind, seen better days. The stucco is cracked, the roof is faded and missing tiles, the elaborate metal doors are rusty, the flower boxes have only dust on them, and the window shades are on their hinges in several places.)

Mike: (Gets off first; the others follow) Great, Micky. This ain't even a nice place to visit.

Micky: Okay, so the outside doesn't look too great! You just wait. Looks can be deceiving, you know!

Man 1: (Goes up to the group) Hello, you are Monkees?

Micky: *nods* Yes, we are.

Man 2: (The big guy smacks the little guy across the head) Jose, didn't you read the bus? It only says "Monkees" in letters about fifteen feet! I KNOW you can read English just fine. :p

Jose: Sorry, Manuel.

Manuel: I hope so. These guys are our guests! Let's show them some manners! (He turns to Valerie) You're Mrs. Thorkleson?

Valerie: (Sighs) Yes, yes, I am.

Manuel: (Sweeping bow) Allow me to introduce myself, Mrs. T. I'm Manuel Martinez (the taller guy tugs on his sleeve and he sighs) and that's my half-brother, Jose. (Jose grins and waves)

Jose: We honored for you to be at our little inn! :D

Mike: (Mutters) Dunno if I can say the same... :p

(Emma nudges him.)

Micky: it's very nice to be here! :)

Valerie: We'd like our rooms, please, and then we'll want some room service before we get ready for our first concert.

Manuel: Of course. Carmelita will attend to all your needs. She's our older sister, and makes the best tamales in all of Mexico! ;)

Mike: Hey, Manuel, how come you don't speak with a Mexican accent?

Manuel: (Shrugs) Raised in LA. I moved back a couple of years ago to help with the family business after Mama died.

Jose: I was raised right here, in this town. I been here my whole life!

Valerie: We'll be wanting someone to carry our bags, and I'm sure everyone will want to know where the pool is.

Manuel: Um, you might want to skip the pool. It's...well, I haven't been able to clean it in a while.

Mike: I'm sure I've swum in worse in Texas.

Micky: I'll swim in just about anything.

Davy: I can vouch for that. ;)

Peter: (Stretches) I just want to rest before the fans find out where we are.

Manuel: That's not likely. We're about fifty miles from the nearest town.

Valerie: (Eyes widen) WHAT?

Micky: Groovy!

Mike: No, it ain't! What if we need to go to the hospital or somethin'?

Manuel: Well, there IS a village about ten miles from here. It's barely more than a few houses and farmland, but there is a doctor.

Micky: Perfect. ;)

Lauren: *sighs* Oh, dear...

Mike: But we have two pregnant women here!

Jose: Really? I have never seen baby being born! :D

Valerie: Look, maybe we should just go see the rooms. I don't have the time to haul the entire group to another place, and the bus with the crewmembers will be along shortly.

Manuel: Ok, we'll take everyone upstairs. (He hefts two suitcases and sticks two more under his arms) Follow me.

(As the group moves across the sun-filtered, dusty hall, we hear an urgent-sounding bulletin in Spanish on a large, floor-length radio. There's also an area with old tables and chairs, and a few faded chairs and coffee tables set around the radio and a blank TV that looks at least 10 years old.)

Mike: (Frowns) What's all that about a hurricane on the radio?

Emma: (Now HER eyes are wide) Hurricane?

Manuel: (As the group goes upstairs) I wouldn't worry too much about it. They don't know what it's doing yet. It might just blow right over us.

Emma: Or it might blow us over.

Daphne: I don't know about this.

Jose: I hope it does not. This hotel might not take the wind.

Manuel: Jose, it'll be FINE. This hotel has been around for a hundred years! It's handled worse!

Jose: Yes, but we have not had pesos to repair recently.

Manuel: We WILL, man! Don't scare the guests!

(The two brothers stop on the second floor. It's rather Spartan, with a few wobbly chairs and some dusty lights along the walls. The doors are plain whitewashed rectangles with a small barred window in each.)

Manuel: Ok, folks, here you go. (Hands around a bunch of keys and pamphlets) That's about all Hotel Del Aztec has to offer. We'll see you at dinner!

Jose: When IS dinner, Manuel? I am very hungry again!

Manuel: When Carmie finishes the rooms and gets to cookin'. :p

(They walk off down the hall, still bickering. Mike sighs and turns to Micky, glaring.)

Mike: Mick, you did it again.

Peter: Mike, I don't think it's so bad! It just has character!

Mike: If it has any more character, it'll fall down on us.

Micky: It won't fall down on us! :P

Black Man 1: Speaking of characters, did ya get a load of those freaky Mexican guys?

Black Man 2: Straight out of some old Laurel and Hardy short, man.

Valerie: (Sighs) Look, we have a concert tomorrow, and then a week off. There isn't much more we can do about the situation tonight. We'll sleep on it, and if things don't improve, we'll move to another hotel for the remainder of our week. This is the end of the tour, and I don't really want anything to go wrong.

Black Man 1: She's right, man. We're here. We might as well make the best of things.

Micky: It won't be that bad.

Mike: (Sighs) All right. We'll stay the night, but if things don't improve by after the concert tomorrow, we leave. Got it?

Valerie: Mike, since when were you the manager? I say when we leave and go.

Peter: Guys, let's not fight here! Our auras are really harsh, really cranky. Why don't we all go have some nice, hot showers and take some time out? I'm sure Lauren and Daphne need to use the restrooms, if nothing else. :)

Lauren: I'd need to use the restroom normally, anyway, after that long of a drive.

Valerie: (Nods) We'll meet for dinner and listen to those weather reports. (She opens a door) Come on, Peter.

Peter: See you guys later! (He joins her)

Black Man 1: We're down the hall. (Nods at the group) Call us if the place falls down or somethin'.

Mike: (Chuckles) Thanks, Sam! ;)

Sam: Anytime, boy. (He and his friends amble down the hall, carrying instruments and suitcases)

Mike: (Turns to the others) Well, guess it's our turn. Daph, you and Dave are on the right side with Pete n' Val. Mick, you n' Lauren are on the side with us.

Emma: See you at dinner, guys!

Micky: Gotcha.

Davy: At least we'll be able to sleep.

Mike: (Snickers) Not likely. ;)

(Emma rolls her eyes.)

Emma: Come on! We could both use to wash up and rest a bit after that long, hot bus ride. (She pushes him into the bedroom)

(Micky and Lauren step into their bedroom. It's actually not a bad size, certainly nothing like the Plaza Hotel room in "Big Apple Monkees," but not tiny, either. The furnishings, however, are in the same shape as the rest of the hotel, which is to say, not great shape. The linen is faded and there's a frayed canopy around the bed.)

Micky: Well, this is kinda nice.

Lauren: Micky, did you hit your head or something? This place is...well, frankly, it's seen better days.

Micky: *sighs* How was I supposed to know? The brochure made it sounds a lot nicely than it really is. I was just TRYING to stay positive, since no one else is.

Lauren: As long as we don't have to stay here for very long.

(As Lauren and Micky talk, we hear a series of knocks through the wall to their right. It sounds like the first notes of "Listen to the Band"...until part of the wall falls in, leaving Mike with his knuckle raised and eyes wide.)

Mike: (Pokes his head in) Your room looks the same as ours. (Sighs) See what I told you, Mick? This place is bad news!

Micky: Okay, Mike, I'm SORRY, alright? I goofed.

Emma: (Also pokes in) Mike, lay off of him, ok? He knows he made a mistake. We'll just have to leave after the concert and find some place more suitable.

Mike: (Goes around the other side and comes in the door) I don't like this, and it's not just because the place is shit. My wolf's intuition's tellin' me there's somethin' really bad in the area. And I mean bad-bad. Nasty-evil-horrible-death bad.

Lauren: Oh dear. :P

Emma: Devils?

Mike: (Shakes his head) No. Not yet, anyway. But...there's somethin' here. Somethin' used to be here, besides this hotel...and it was bad. (Sniffs) It's old and faint, but it's like I can almost smell blood.

Emma: Oh man...

Mike: I'm not sure. It's real, real old. At least as old as than the ghosts at Kibbee Manor.

Lauren: What could it be? :P

Emma: (Puts down a large, heavy book on the table) I've been doing some reading on this area, and according to several volumes on Mexican history, this area used to be a prime home for the Aztec Indians, before they fell to the Spanish explorers. The Aztecs were well-known for their elaborate temples and pyramids and their practice of (gulps) sacrifices.

Mike: Swell. Figures. No wonder my wolf's intuition is workin' overtime.

Micky: That's NOT good.

Emma: The Spanish killed the idea of sacrifice, and they eventually wiped out the whole culture...but a few ruins exist today.

Mike: They must have had temples n' things in this area. That's what I'm sensin'.

Emma: I'll bet Manuel and Jose don't even know. The people who built this hotel might not even know...or have cared if they did. This actually isn't an unattractive area. You saw the view coming here.

Mike: (Sniffs) That's not the only thing my intuition's tellin' me. The Martinez brothers can blow it off, but it doesn't take a wolf's nose to realize how humid it is outside or see those clouds on the horizon.

Emma: And it's just too damn CALM out there.

Lauren: The calm before the storm. :P

Emma: I've lived with hurricanes my entire life, and I can tell that this isn't any ordinary storm. We'll have to listen to the radio, but I think your concert should be ok. Those clouds are far enough off that they won't hit by tomorrow afternoon. After that, though...

Mike: Who knows?

Micky: After that, we get out of here.

Mike: Right. We'll see if we can get a place at that little town, or we'll just go home if the storm isn't too horrible. As much as I'd like a vacation in Mexico, I ain't about to brave some storm of the century for one.

Emma: I'd like to live to see our home and daughter again.

Lauren: Ditto that.

Mike: As for now, I'd like to round up the other guys and see if we can get some rehearsing in before dinner. I think I saw a terrace in the back that might work if there isn't anyone else who might be annoyed.

Micky: Sure. Why not?