Everyone ready for some more rescuing?

Mike: Rescuin' whom?

Peter: Sure!

Micky: I don't know if I like that...

Davy: Do we have much choice?

(We open back in the Montgomery House. Emma leans back on the bandstand.)

Emma: That's all I have. Who's next?

Valerie: I'm the only one who hasn't been introduced yet. May I?

Emma: Go right ahead.

Lauren: Go for it, Val.

Valerie: Thank you. Well, the group remained at the garage, and those two shadows were there as well, when another, far more smartly-dressed, woman arrives...

(Fade out on Valerie in the ballroom, wearing a nice 70s pantsuit, as she narrates. Fade in on Valerie again, this time stepping into the garage. She wears a yellow lace-trimmed gown with a huge plumed hat, feather boa, and lace-trimmed parasol and matching purse.)

Valerie: Hello? Lauren? Miss Miller? Miss Redmer?

Peter: (He looks up...and gasps) Wow, who's she? She's...she's beautiful!

Mike: Another chick?

Lauren: Hi, Valerie. How are you?

Valerie: I'm wonderful, darling. Just came over to tell you Aunt Barbara finally got her board of directors to agree to sponsoring you ladies.

Mike: (Narrows his eyes) Sponsorin' them in what?

Lauren: All right!

Valerie: You'll have all expenses paid. There is, however, one catch.

Mike: There's always a catch.

Valerie: I have to travel with you.

Lauren: We can handle that.

Mike: Whoa, wait a minute! What are you sponsorin' them in?

Valerie: Why, the Big Race, of course! Henry Babbitt's big race!

Emma: (Smirks) Oh, you haven't met one of our bosses. This is Miss Valerie Cartwright, one of the vice-presidents of the New York Star and the niece of the owner and chief editor, Mrs. Barbara Marion.

Peter: You...you're a vice president? Aren't you awfully young?

Valerie: (Shrugs) I enjoy working in the newspaper business. It's far more interesting than sitting at home with my father and learning how to have elegant tea parties.

Peter: You...you....you're....so....

Valerie: (Smiles) Whatever you mean, I accept the compliment.

Peter: Uh, yeah....

Mike: Wait a minute! Hold on there. You guys are chicks!

Valerie: Yes, and your point is...

Mike: This is gonna be dangerous! We're gonna be crossin' deserts! Plains! Prairie! I know what it's like. I've been out there. I was at the Battle of San Juan Hill. I grew up in the west. So did Micky. It's demandin' turf, and it ain't no place for someone who can't handle it.

Emma: We know that, Mr. Nesmith. We also know that we're prepared for these things, as much as you are. You claim that you're accustomed to such territory, but what about your friends?

Peter: I've played vaudeville, Miss Redmer. I've done traveling of my own.

Valerie: Really? (She goes over to Peter) How fascinating! I love seeing the vaudeville shows!

Peter: I love playing music. Someday, when we've sold our car designs, I'm going to buy my own theater and have my own shows, with my own talent, including my friends and me.

Mike: This is crazy! You girls can't join a big race like this! This ain't racin' to the end of town!

Emma: What, are you afraid we might end up being a bigger story than you boys...and even winning?

Mike: No!

Emma: None of the other entrants would let me ride with them. This is the only way Daphne and I could get the story!

Valerie: Besides, I have every confidence in Lauren. She's one of the best mechanics anywhere.

Mike: Maybe she is, but that still don't mean you girls should be involved in this.

Emma: Well, we ARE involved in this! I AM going to get my story!

Valerie: A lot of people know about the race already, Mr. Nesmith. Many people are interested in the automobile industry. It's brand-new, untested waters. Many people don't think it'll last. This will prove that it will, and that cars can do many things that carriages and trains can't do.

Mike: How does some little rich chick know?

Valerie: This "little rich chick" happens to be the vice-president of the company that owns one of the top newspapers in the city, Mr. Nesmith. I read my aunt's publications a lot.

Mike: This is crazy. Micky, tell them this is crazy.

Micky: Weeeell...

Mike: Micky, they couldn't survive in the desert! You used to live in California! You know what it's like!

Micky: How do you know they couldn't?

Emma: Yeah! What makes you such an authority on female nature, Mr. Nesmith?

Mike: Tell me this - have you ever dealt with Indians before, besides Micky? Or deserts? Or bandits? Sand storms? Well, I have, and so's Mick.

Emma: Well, no, but...

Valerie: You can complain all you want to, Mr. Nesmith, but we're going. Aunt Barbara knows Mr. Babbitt very well, and she's arranged everything.

Mike: Damn it! (He grabs Micky's arm) Come on, Mick. Let's get outta here.

Peter: But...

Micky: Hey, wait...

Peter: (Sighs and turns to Valerie) I'm sorry about Michael, Miss Cartwright. He tends to be a very stubborn and outspoken man.

Valerie: That's all right. I'm afraid most people feel the way he does about women. I'm still not entirely sure how Aunt Barbara talked Mr. Babbitt into letting us join the race at all.

Peter: I...I...I hope I'll see you soon. (He calls over his shoulder) Come on, Davy.

Valerie: So do I, Mr...

Peter: Um...uh...T...Torkleson, Miss.

Valerie: Unusual name, but very interesting. I like it.

Peter: (Sighs) Davy, did you hear that? She likes my name!

Davy: I heard, mate.

Mike: GUYS!

Peter: (Sighs) The chief calls. Let's go, Davy. (The four young men climb into the Van Dyke and rumble out of the garage. Emma sticks her tongue out at the car's retreating backside.)

Emma: Good riddance to bad rubbish! That man Nesmith is horrible!

Valerie: I found his friend Peter to be very sweet.

Emma: See if I mention THEM in any of my race articles!

Daphne: Davy's cute.

Emma: You think every young man we meet is cute, Daph!

Lauren: Micky seems to have a good head on his shoulders...

Valerie: (Nods) From what Mr. Babbitt and Aunt Barbara says, he's the one who designs all their cars and mechanics. I read that Daphne's Mr. Jones was once a child star on Broadway, but he left his troupe after he grew up and became a singer, then joined with his friends.

Emma: (Shrugs) Micky seems to be all right. At least he wasn't saying we shouldn't race. (Turns to Lauren) We are going to WIN that contest! We're going to do whatever we can to show that Mr. Nesmith a woman can last just as long in perilous situations as any man can!

Lauren: *Smirks* No kidding.

Valerie: There's nothing we can do about Mr. Nesmith's opinion now. We need to...yes?

(Two men in messenger uniforms come in. One carries a burlap sack.)

Max: (It's obviously him and Abernathy, Max wearing a fake mustache) Singing telegram!

Abernathy: It's for Miss Cartwright alone. We cannot let the rest of you ladies hear.

Valerie: (Frowns) But how did anyone know I was here? (Shakes her head) And you can say it in front of them. I trust them.

Abernathy: No, it's very urgent! (He hustles the other women to a closet in the back of the garage) It's very secret stuff, very hush-hush. (He finally shoves the three in the closet and throws a chair in front of it)

Valerie: What's going on?

Max: We want your money, that's what's going on!

Abernathy: Max, MUST you be obvious?

Valerie: What? I won't allow it! Police! (She starts to run for the door, but Max throws the burlap bag over her head and tosses her over his shoulder)

(Cut to outside. Max and Abernathy start to the Heimlich with Valerie...but stop suddenly when they realize several of the car's parts are now laying on the ground.)

Mike: (He and the others stand around the car, holding tools and smirking) Did you really think we'd let you go so easily?

*Micky twirls a wrench and waggles his eyebrows.*

Peter: Micky and I saw you lurking around out there! (He narrows his eyes and looks as threatening as he can) Let Miss Cartwright go!

Abernathy: Not on your life, Thorkleson...or hers. She's the heiress to a publishing fortune, and she'll net my boss a pretty penny after the race.

Peter: No! Put her down!

Abernathy: Try and stop me! (He and Max take off for a near-by barn. Mike turns to the others)

Mike: Micky and Davy, go find the other women and make sure they're ok. Peter, come with me.

*Micky and Davy head for the closet, where a lot of noise and banging is coming from.*

Emma: (Behind the closet) Let us out!

*Micky pulls the chair away. The other women tumble out, with Daphne landing in Davy's arms.*

Emma: Thank you, gentlemen. That rotten Abernathy fellow kidnapped Miss Cartwright!

(They hurry over to the barn as "Your Auntie Grizelda" begins. Max is trying to tie Valerie up in the hay loft, but she's kicking and screaming something fierce. Mike dukes it out with Abernathy as Peter makes his way to the loft to rescue Valerie.)

(Abernathy knocks Mike to the ground, and is about to hit him again when he's hit in the chin by a smaller fist...one that turns out to belong to Emma.)

(Max keeps trying to shove Peter off the ladder with one foot and keep Valerie from tearing him apart with his hands. Valerie claws at him, managing to get away, but he crawls after her.)

(Valerie finally gets him on the ground...and by the time Peter makes his way into the loft, she has a lot of help.)

*Lauren and Daphne dump a pile of hay on him. They shake hands.*

Valerie: Peter! (She crawls over to him) Where the heck have you been?

Peter: I just... (blushes) I'm not very fast.

Valerie: Well... (she takes his hand) ...you're here. I'm glad you got here when you did. You distracted this man!

Peter: I did?

Valerie: Yes, you did. (She nods at the ladder) Now, let's go see if we can help Mr. Nesmith.

(But Mr. Nesmith has finished his work as well, as we discover as the music ends and we cut to the bottom floor of the barn. Micky and Davy throw a horsecollar around Abernathy; Mike hangs him by a nail. Emma puts a horseshoe on him.)

Emma: Maybe that'll let him be lucky enough to get out of here.

Abernathy: Curses, foiled again!

Mike: And again and again, if you keep going after us!

Abernathy: You know I'm going to win the race. It's a foregone conclusion. I have ways of seeing to that!

Mike: We've seen those ways. We ain't impressed.

Peter: Maybe we should call the cops.

Mike: I have another idea. Why don't we leave them alone for a while? If that boss they keep alludin' to is as nasty as they say, he'll probably punish 'em worse than the cops, anyway.

Emma: We're still going to win this race, you know.

Mike: We'll see about that, lil' darlin'.

Peter: (Takes Mike's arm) Michael, these nice ladies just helped us save Miss Cartwright. Let's not start a fight here.

Valerie: (Takes Emma's arm) Save that passion for your articles, Miss Redmer.

Emma: But...

Mike: She...

(But Peter and Valerie just pull them in opposite directions.)

Peter: (Off-camera) Hey guys, are you coming?

Valerie: (Off-camera) Come along, ladies!

*The others just chuckle and head out as a group.*

Abernathy: Hey! I'm not done with you yet! I'm not... (As he struggles, the horseshoe that Emma hung on him falls and hits him on the head) Ouch! Who said these things were good luck, anyway? Max? MAAAAAX! Where are you, you incompetent idiot! Where are you? (We fade out on his struggling and ranting, and fade back in on Valerie in the Montgomery House.)

Valerie: There. I think everyone is properly introduced now.

Peter: That was cute!

Mike: Yeah, but I want some racin' action. Who gets to start the actual race?

Emma: Who hasn't gone yet?

Lauren: I'll do it.

Emma: (Grins) You're perfect, Lauren. You're one of our car people.

Valerie: This will be great.

Lauren: *Fade out as she talks* We head over to Times Square for the beginning of the race...

(Fade in on a crowded Times Square, supposedly circa 1906, though it looks a bit more like Times Square circa 1976 with extras in Edwardian costumes. Women in frilly gowns and carrying parasols and men in suits mill around, cheering for various cars. The guys drive into the crowd first as people cheer.)

Mike: Damn. They really whipped up this crowd for us, didn't they?

Peter: Um, Michael, I don't think they're cheering for us. (Points as the girls come up behind them.

(The girls elicit more varied reactions than any other car. Some people, especially women, cheer. Others gasp in shock that women are driving a car at all. Some laugh at such an idea. Valerie, Emma, and Daphne all wear dresses with long coats, scarves, and goggles along with the usual hats and parasols.)

*Lauren wears her purple jumpsuit, goggles, and a short white scarf.*

Hillbilly #1: (He and two other men wear their overalls and drive a slightly rusted Tin Lizzie that looks like it'll fall apart any second) Would you lookit them womenfolk! Thinks they gonna join us!

Black Man #1: (He and his two companions wear jumpsuits like the Monkees' and goggles) My wife says she's rooting for them.

(Abernathy drives up next in the Heimlich. He and Max wear their usual all-black gear and goggles.)

Abernathy: Did you sabotage all the cars?

Max: As many of them as I could. Didja have to be in such a hurry, Boss?

Abernathy: The Sir doesn't want anything going wrong. He's going to meet us at the first stop in Albany. He says he has a cottage there.

Max: Good. I could use a stiff drink.

Abernathy: Not while we're on the road! We can't attract more attention to ourselves than usual if we want to win the race!

Max: Right, Boss. (He leans against the side door...and would have fallen out of the car if Abernathy didn't drag him back in. The car door has almost fallen off. Max pulls it back on.)

Max: Sorry, Boss.

(Abernathy just rolls his eyes.)

(Cut to the Monkees as the girls pull up to them. Emma smirks.)

Emma: We'll see you boys in Albany.

Mike: That's what you think. You can't run that rocket of yours the whole race. You'll burn your engine out.

Emma: We have other little tricks.

Mike: We have a few tricks of our own, right Mick?

Micky: Of course.

Mrs. Marion: (She wears an elaborate dove-gray suit and huge plumed hat; leans against the girls' car) Now, you girls be careful. And don't forget to send me dispatches from the road whenever you can!

Valerie: Of course we will, Aunt Barbara!

Emma: We'll make The Star proud.

Mrs. Marion: I want the latest on everything you do and see and, of course, who's winning and who's behind.

Emma: You can count on us.

Mr. Babbitt: (He gets in front of the cars) Ok, gentlemen (grumbles) and ladies. (Louder) You know the rules. First car that makes it to Los Angeles, California, is the winner. There's no other rules besides not gettin' arrested or a parkin' ticket before the end of the race. (He holds out a green flag) Ok, everyone. On your marks, (the cars' engines start in a deafening roar), get set, GO!

(Mr. Babbitt lowers the flag. Mrs. Marion jumps to the sidewalk as the cars all take off in huge cloud of dust, the crowd cheering them on. Mrs. Marion makes her way back to the street, where we see a dust-covered Mr. Babbit coughing, his nice suit tattered and his green flag now broken.)

Mrs. Marion: Henry, you know better than to stand in the middle of the road when cars are coming!