So...everyone ready for the first story of the year?

Mike: Sure. Last year's New Year story was really fun.

Peter: Yeah! I love telling stories!

Micky: Huh?

Davy: Wha...

(We open in the ballroom of the Montgomery House. The camera shows a banner across the back of the room that says "Happy New Year!" next to a huge, elaborate Christmas tree. Emma, Peter, Lauren, and Valerie clean up confetti, hats, and plastic plates and cups.)

Emma: That was some party!

Valerie: I think it was one of the best we ever did. Everyone seemed to have a good time.

Peter: I think some people had too much of a good time. Nyles was drinking champagne out of someone's shoe before Marcus and Tilly took him home. No, I don't know whose, and I don't think I want to.

Emma: (Puts aside a bag) There's some more trash for Mike.

Valerie: Lauren, where's Micky and Davy? I thought they were checking on the kids.

Peter: Maybe they're helping Daphne do the dishes?

*Suddenly, there's some thudding and a faint "I'm okay!" from the stairs.*

Davy: *Faintly* You took the easy way goin' down, Mick.

Emma: What was THAT?

Valerie: I think we just found out where the guys went.

Mike: (He joins them) I checked around the outside of the house while I was takin' out the trash. As far as I can tell, there ain't no one makin' out in random corners. (Frowns) What was that racket? I could hear it outside.

Peter: Have you seen Micky or Davy?

Mike: I thought they were with the kids.

Valerie: That's what we thought, too, but...

*Micky and Davy stumble in, giggling.*

Mike: What in the hell did you two have to drink?

Micky: Just a little drinky...

Peter: How are the kids?

Davy: Kids? *realizes* We were supposed to check on the kids, Mick!

Mike: You didn't?

Valerie: (Sighs) I'll check on them. (She heads out the door)

Mike: (Hands Micky a plastic bag) Do you think you're sober enough to help us clean up this mess?

Micky: Okay! *starts cleaning up*

Davy: Can I help him?

Mike: Sure, if you can stand upright.

Emma: (Grins) I know what might sober you two up. How about we tell a story while we clean?

Peter: (Nods) We did that last year, and it was really fun!

Mike: Even though some of us fell asleep for the last part.

Emma: That wasn't our faults

Peter: Anyone have any ideas?

Mike: I think I'll start this time. (Grins) Em n' I were watchin' a movie on TV the other day called "The Great Race." It was a spoof of old-time dramas about a guy in white who enters a cross-country car race against a nasty guy in black with a mustache, and there was a chick who smoked a cigar and drove her own car.

Emma: I remember that. Not a great movie, but really cute.

Mike: So, how about we do a car-racin' story? (He thinks) It's spring 1906. Four men are drivin' the latest model Tin Lizzie, on their way to the auto tycoon who might be able to bring them fame and fortune...

(The camera pulls away from Mike and to the glittering crystal chandelier as we fade out on the scene and Mike's narration. Fade in on the bright, sparkling sunlight over what looks like a green, unpaved highway. All we see at first are some birds, rabbits, and squirrels...until suddenly, a cloud of dust appears out of nowhere! We hear a loud "a-woo-a" as a white early-20th-century car sputters into view.)

("Magnolia Simms" begins as the camera shows each guy in turn. Mike wears a white jumpsuit with a leather helmet and goggles. He's driving...and arguing with Micky over who should push what when and how fast they can go.)

(Peter wears a green jumpsuit and the goggles, but no helmet. He just shakes his head.)

(The car goes over an unpaved bump in the road. All four guys yelp as they land rather noisily.)

*Micky just wears goggles, a red jumpsuit, and a white scarf.*

*Davy wears goggles and a blue jumpsuit with a white scarf.*

(They go through a huge puddle. Mud splashes everywhere, including on the camera. Someone reaches out and wipes the lens, or at least, most of it. When we can see the guys again, they're covered in mud, too.)

(Peter points out another puddle. Mike pushes a button...and this time, the car jacks up far enough to go over the puddle with no trouble and no mess.)

(Mike just barely skirts around a group of children playing in the road.)

*Suddenly, a VERY loud horn goes off after Micky spies a cow in the road. He grins.*

(Mike closes his eyes, then opens them, shakes his head, and wiggles a finger in his ear.)

(Peter plucks berries from a bush growing on the side of the road as they pass. He hands them out to all the guys, making sure to give Mick double.)

(That's when we hear a train coming...just as the guys are crossing the tracks! Mike shoves the lever as far as it can go. The car almost literally jumps ahead, just barely avoiding the oncoming train!)

(The car is coming up on what looks like a city. A group of pretty girls in ruffled gowns, carrying parasols, wave at the boys as they pass, heading for what looks like the Brooklyn Bridge.)

*Davy waves.*

(The girls blow kisses at him, giggling. Mike makes a face and speeds up the car. Peter blushes.)

(Mike waves a finger in Davy's face. Pay attention to the car, not the women. He’s still scolding Davy as they drive through town. Peter's eyes widen. A man is pulling a fruit cart...and he's right in front of their path!)

*Micky pushes a button. The car suddenly skirts around the cart.*

(The man is so frightened by the sudden movement, he falls over...taking his cart with him. He shakes his fist in the direction of the retreating car as the song ends.)

Mike: Man, people just ain't use to...LOOK OUT! (He honks the horn. A mother with two boys and a girl jump out of the way as they careen around a corner, passing a street car and more carts)

Peter: We really need to be more careful. Mr. Babbitt is a very powerful auto manufacturer, one of the finest in America.

Mike: (Mutters) One of the cheapest in America.

Peter: Micky and I have done research. He's one of the top auto manufacturers in the country! We have to sell him our ideas!

Mike: (Grins) You mean Mick's ideas and our tightenin' screws.

Peter: Micky's designs are brilliant!

Mike: I just hope we can get Babbitt to listen. Everyone else has turned us down. We ain't established enough yet.

Peter: We just need someone to see our car!

Mike: The right person to see it, that is.

(They pull up next to a large old brownstone building. All four climb out at once.)

Mike: Micky and Dave, get the top up. Pete, get our design folders.

*Micky and Davy set about putting the top up.*

Peter: (Frowns; points at a car with "The Magnificent Abernathy" scrawled across it) Mike, isn't that Professor Abernathy?

Mike: (Makes a face) Great. That jerk is probably tryin' to steal our ideas again and pass them off as his own.

Peter: We'll have to watch out for him. He's a really evil man! He may try to sabotage the car again!

Mike: Micky cried for days after what he did to her the last time.

Peter: (As Micky and Davy join them) Boys, we have to be careful. We think that Professor Abernathy is here. The one who claims he's a great inventor, mechanic, and scientist? He always wears black, and that fellow Max follows him around?

Mike: I think they must be followin' us.

Micky: Let me at him!

Peter: Not here, Micky! We have to show that we're better than that Abernathy.

Micky: That's no fun.

Mike: How about we get him after we prove to Babbitt that we have the better car?

Micky: *sighs* Fine.

(They enter a large meeting room. The two men we saw earlier are already sitting next to Mr. Babbitt. One of the men is tall, thin, and wears a black top hat and long opera cape, and has a very impressive handlebar mustache. The other is short, stocky, and clean-shaven. He also wears black, though his suit is rumpled and he wears a derby hat and no cape. There are other people in the room as well, and they run the gamut from well-dressed black men to dirt-covered men in straw hats and overalls carrying pitchforks.)

Mr. Babbitt: Abernathy, I told you. We have to wait for the... (looks up) what took you boys so long?

Mike: (Glares at Abernathy) Ran into some delays on the road.

(Abernathy glares right back.)

Emma: (She comes in next, pushing past Mike) Hello, sir. I'm sorry we're late. Unavoidable delay on the subway. (She wears a simple but elegant rust-brown Victorian suit and carries a pad and pencil. Daphne follows her in a simple pink dress and hat, carrying the heavy accordion-style cameras of the early 20th century.)

Mr. Babbitt: Who the heck are you?

Emma: I'm the reporter the New York Daily Star sent. My name is Miss Emma Redmer. (Nods at Daphne) This is Miss Daphne Morgani, one of my photographers.

Mr. Babbitt: But you're a dame!

Emma: I'm aware of that fact.

Lauren: *Enters last; she wears a pair of black slacks and a purple blouse* We've been aware of that all our lives, sir.

Mr. Babbitt: (His eyes widen) Young lady, what on earth are you wearing?

Lauren: Pants. What's it look like?

Hillbilly #1: Ain't natural for a gal to be wearin' men's clothes!

Hillbilly #2: Just plain ain't decent!

*Micky's jaw hangs open, staring longingly at Lauren.*

Black Man #1: My wife has taken to wearing bicycling bloomers. I find them quite becoming, and they show off the female figure nicely.

Lauren: Thank you, kind sir. *nods at the black fellow*

Black Man #1: Thank my wife. You should exchange fashion tips with her sometime.

Lauren: Perhaps I will.

*Davy nudges Micky, who's still staring.*

Max: Damn. Would ya look at her gams...

Abernathy: (Elbows Max) Don't forget what we're here for.

Lauren: *Frowns* What was that about my gams? If you would like a fist in the mouth, say it again.

Max: (Eyes widen) Uh, no, no ma'am.

*Lauren smirks.*

Mr. Babbitt: If we could begin, please.

Emma: (Sits down, trying to avoid the muddy Monkees) Yes. Now, Mr. Babbitt, you've mentioned to the press that you've been considering several car designs for your 1907 models. Have you made your decision yet?

Abernathy: Our Henlich 38 Special is the most advanced motor vehicle anywhere, anyplace! It can go up to speeds of 30 miles per hour, has plush seating, an all-leather interior, and takes bouncing like a baby.

Mike: (Mutters to Micky) Yeah, it throws up.

*Micky nods, grinning...and still staring at Lauren.*

Abernathy: I heard that, Nesmith! What do four idiots like you know about cars?

Mike: We've been workin' on them for years now, ever since we first met each other in New York.

Peter: We're good mechanics and car designers! The Van Dyke 7 can do anything!

Mike: You should have seen the chickens scatter when we arrived here.

Black Man #1: Our Carter 6 can outrun any automobile on the market today.

Hillbilly #1: You boys don't got the special fuel we use for our ol' Rustbucket.

Emma: (Turns to Mike) What's so special about your car, Mr....

Mike: Nesmith, lady. We've been workin' on her for years. (Eyes Abernathy) When certain people ain't swipin' our ideas.

Abernathy: I resent the implication, Nesmith.

Peter: (Goes to Babbitt) If' you'll just give us a chance...

Mike: Yeah, man!

Abernathy: Don't listen to them. The Heimlich is the best car around!

Black Man #1: Sir, just listen to our proposal...

(Everyone starts talking at once. Babbitt finally slams his hands down on the table.)

Mr. Babbitt: ENOUGH! (Max suddenly jolts awake)

Max: Huh? Where am I? Officer, I didn't do it, honest!

Abernathy: Max... (Elbows him)

Mike: Have you come to a decision, sir?

Mr. Babbitt: There's only one way we can settle this without anythin' gettin' ugly. (He passes by Micky, squinting) Ain't I seen you somewhere before? In a dress?

Micky: *makes a face* No, I doubt that.

Mr. Babbitt: I thought you looked familiar. (Shrugs, then goes on) Men, I suggest we settle this with a race.

Emma: A car race? They're all the rage now. They even held one that went from New York all the way to Paris!

Mr. Babbitt: Now missy, we don't have to go that far.

Hillbilly #1: Ain't gonna go to no foreign parts!

Mr. Babbitt: Forget Paris. I could never afford it. I was thinkin' something more American. Has anyone here ever wanted to see Los Angeles? It's a nice little town in California. I have a cousin who lives near there. He says it's sunshine and oranges every day.

Mike: I'm from Texas, an' Mick's from California. We know what it's like there.

Emma: Really? I've never been to those places!

Lauren: Great. Two places I'd fry quickly in.

Abernathy: I've been everywhere.

Mike: Sure you have.

Black Man #1: I've always had a desire to travel. (The other men with him nod their heads in agreement.)

Emma: I can't wait to see them!

Mr. Babbitt: Who said anything about you dolls going?

Emma: Someone has to cover the race!

Mr. Babbitt: I'm already gonna call men from the Sun, the Times, the Daily News...

Emma: (Narrows her eyes) What about the Star, sir?

Mr. Babbitt: Do all the reporters have the legs you and your crew do?

Emma: Sir, I'm a reporter, not a chorus girl.

Mike: You sure about that, with the figures you chicks are throwin' around?

Lauren: If I hear one more wisecrack about our looks... *shakes a fist*

Mike: I ain't scared.

Max: (Ducks down behind the table; only his nose and eyes can be seen) I am! (Abernathy pulls him back up)

Black Man #1: Sir, about this race...

Mr. Babbitt: Oh, yeah. (He pulls a map down...revealing a very sexy poster of a Broadway show) Uh, wrong poster. (Pulls down another poster; this time, we actually get a map of the US) We're gonna start here, in New York, on Times Square. (Points to the east side of the map) You'll follow along here (draws his finger upwards, towards Albany and Chicago), then down through here (he goes down to the Midwestern states - Nebraska, Colorado), and will end up... (his finger points somewhere around Alberqueque here!

Mike: Looks like someone took a wrong turn at Alberqueque.

(Emma and Daphne giggle. Abernathy and the black men snort. The hillbilly laughs outright.)

*Micky taps on where LA is.*

Micky: I think this is the place you're looking for.

Mr. Babbitt: (Makes a face) Thank you, Dolenz. (Points to LA) We're going to end up here.

Hillbilly #2: But there's Injuns in that territory!

Black Man #2: I think most of them live around the Oklahoma Territory now.

Micky: What the hell do you think I am?

Hillbilly #1: (Squints) You got curls, son. Look like one of them Eye-talians.

Micky: *Rolls his eyes* I'm both! There's nothing to fear from the Indians as long as you leave them alone!

Hillbilly #2: There's Eye-talian Injuns? (Slaps his knee) Well, don't that just beat all?

Abernathy: We'll be able to handle the Indians.

Micky: *sighs* Oh bother.

Emma: I would love to meet some real Indians! (Smiles at Micky) Present company accepted. I'm sure you still have relatives in the Wild West.

Mr. Babbitt: I'll give you a week to get prepared and all your equipment in order. If you're not on Times Square next to the Longacre Theater in a week, I'm gonna assume you ain't interested in the contest anymore.

Emma: And it'll give us time to prepare our article. (She nods at Daphne) Before you leave, gentlemen, my colleagues and I would like to take your picture.

Mr. Babbitt: Will it cost much?

Emma: No, the Star will pay for it. It'll be great publicity for the race!

Mr. Babbitt: Well, all right, but you dolls had better know what you're doing.

Emma: Don't worry, Mr. Babbitt. Miss Morgani and I are nothing but professional.

Daphne: Now, say cheese!

(The men all gather around the table as the flash goes off...and there's lots of smoke. Emma runs over to open a window. She struggles with it. Mike joins her to help. They finally get it open together.)

Emma: Thank you. (She dusts her hands off) So, you're one of the contestants...

Mike: Yeah, I guess we are.

Emma: (She whips out her pad) Could you tell me about your car?

Mike: Yeah. She's our baby, an' she's the best car around. Ain't nothin' can fly like her. The Van Dyke can get to speeds of up to 60 miles...

Emma: (Eyes widen) 60! You're kidding!

Mike: You afraid, Miss?

Emma: (Narrows her eyes) Of course not.

Mike: Our girl can do anythin'. She can outrun steamers, carriages, wagons...I'll bet she could even outrun a train!

Emma: You don't say.

Mike: Of course, we have one of the most amazing mechanics in the world. Mick is a great inventor. He can design anything.

Emma: He'll get along quite well with my friend Miss Miller, then. She's also a great car driver, designer, and mechanic.

Mike: A chick?

Emma: (Narrows her eyes) A woman. Lauren is brilliant.

Mike: A chick in pants? I'll believe that when I see it.

Emma: She's the best inventor and mechanic I've ever seen.

Mike: Sure.

Emma: I'll let her tell you herself. Lauren! (She goes to find her)

Mike: Yeah, well...Mick? Micky? (He goes to find him. The meet near the US map, where Lauren and Micky are having their own chat.)

Micky: You, uh, really handled yourself well against these clowns here.

Lauren: *Shrugs* I'm used to it. Just because I like to work with my hands and my brain, I'm always having to explain myself.

Micky: *Nods* The guys like to pick on me for what they call "hair-brained" ideas. I hear them throw out the word brilliant every so often, but I wonder if they really mean it.

Lauren: We're both misunderstood.

Micky: Yup.

Mike: (Storms over) There you two are! (He pats Micky's shoulder) Here's the most brilliant mind in New York.

Emma: (Puts her arm around Lauren's shoulder) No way! You should see what she did with our car.

Mike: You have a car? A woman?

Emma: I don't. I'm not much of a driver. (Grins at Lauren) She does.

Lauren: *Folds her arms* Of course, I have a car. What's it to you if I have a car, huh?

Mike: (Puts up a hand) Don't kill me, darlin'. I just ain't never heard of a woman runnin' a car.

Lauren: Well, now you have!

Emma: Women are doing a lot of things these days. I know many women who are getting jobs and going to college. Lauren, Daphne, and I all went.

Mike: (Rolls his eyes) So?

Emma: I'll bet we're smarter than you lame-brains!

Mike: Who you callin' a lame-brain?

Emma: I'm not sure I want to interview you anymore. I don't think our readers would be interested.

*Lauren and Micky walk away, rolling their eyes.*

Emma: I think we ought to leave. Lauren, let's go. Daphne!

(Abernathy grabs her hand as she goes to find her photographer.)

Abernathy: Why don't you interview me for the New York Star, Miss Redmer? (Lifts her hand to his lips and kisses it) I'm sure it would make for excellent copy.

Emma: (Pulls her hand away) Who are you?

Abernathy: Why, I'm the Magnificent Abernathy, the greatest inventor and car designer in America today!

Max: And he can make cars, too!

Emma: Why haven't I ever heard of you?

Abernathy: Perhaps you've seen me in the papers?

Emma: (Narrows her eyes) I think I have. Didn't I hear something about an Abernathy who was suspected of robbing six different car shops in the Tri-State Area?

Abernathy: No! That was another Abernathy!

Max: Yeah, me n' the boss ripped off those places...

(Abernathy discreetly elbows Max again.)

Emma: (Makes a face) No thank you, gentlemen. (Leaves them) Daphne! Daph!

Max: (As they watch Emma leave) You like her, don't you, Boss?

Abernathy: She's wonderful. Such spunk, such intelligence...

Max: Yeah, she's a real smart broad. She almost figured out what we were doin'!

Abernathy: I won't let her figure it out. You can count on that. (Smirks) We're going to win that race, Max, and we and our Boss will the only ones who get those designs!

Max: (Smirks, though it looks more than a little odd on him) Yeah, Boss! (They both laugh as evilily as they can.)

(Cut to Emma. She's found Daphne and Davy leaning over each other and the camera, stars in both their eyes.)

Emma: (Grabs Daphne's arm) Come on. We have to go. I want to catch those black men before they leave. (Glares at Mike, who glares right back) There's nothing else of interest here.

Daphne: Hey!

Mike: (Grabs Davy's arm) Come on, man. We've gotta go work on the car.

Davy: But...

Emma and Mike: (In unison) Let's go! (They both take off, leaving Micky and Lauren alone in the room as Babbitt cleans up after the others)

Micky: Well, good luck on the race.

Lauren: Yeah, you too. May the best racers win.

Micky: Right.

*They both smile a bit awkwardly, then separate as we fade out on the meeting room.*