Everyone ready to record?

Mike: Always.

Peter: Of course!

Davy: Ready, but I'm not so sure he is. *jerks a thumb at Micky*

(Mike and Peter snort.)

*Micky sticks his tongue out.*

(We open in a quiet recording studio. A few men stand behind the controls, playing with the sound. The four Monkees finally enter, followed by some other men with various instruments.)

Peter: All right! It's time to jam!

Mike: This ain't a game, Pete.

Peter: Mike, we're making music. It's supposed to be fun!

Day: *mutters* Does 'e know the meaning of fun?

Session Musician 1: Are we gonna play, or are we gonna argue over whether or not this is fun all afternoon?

Session Musician 2: It's not like we haven't heard this arguement before.

Peter: (As Micky climbs behind the drums) Micky, are you ready?

Mike: More to the point, are you up to it?

Micky: Of course I'm ready! Why wouldn't I be?

Peter: Well...

Mike: What will it take to prove you tried to attack us yesterday?

Peter: Michael...

Session Musician 3: Man, Mick, what did I say 'bout doin' the hard stuff? :

Micky: *glares at Mike, but answers the musician* I have no idea what he's talking about. I'd never attack a friend. I'd only atack a foe if I was provoked. (Makes a face) And I don't hit the hard stuff. It hits me back too hard.

Peter: Are we ready to play?

Session Musician 4: Ready here.

Chip Douglas: (Holds up a bass) Ready here, too.

Hank Cicalo: (From behind the controls) Ready!

(The group launches into "Teardrop City," which turns into a montage of them working on various takes of the song, trying to get it right. Mike, of course, gives the most orders besides producer Chip Douglas.)

(Micky even leaves the drums for a while when one of the musicians hands a guitar over to him for a jam session that even leaves Mike looking a little happier. We end with all four guys sitting around the equipment, Micky back on the drums. Chip is the first to look up at the clock.)

Chip Douglas: Ok, who's ready for a lunch break? I think we're about due.

Mike: (Looks at Micky) Mick, we need to talk to you. Alone.

Micky: Uh, okay.

(Chip, Hank, and the other session musicians file out, but the Monkees remain. Mike closes the door after them, and the other three turn to Mick.)

Mike: Mick, just what was in that green stuff you made for the bubble machine?

Micky: The same as the Monkee Dust, except in liquid form.

Peter: Micky, do you know where you put the formula?

Micky: It's... *trails off, his eyes turning distant*

Davy: Mick?

Peter: I think we're losing him.

Mike: Shit! Mick! Tell us where the formula is, before you don't remember who YOU are!

Micky: *looks up* Sorry, pardners, I don't know what you're talking about. *a cowboy hat appears on his head in a flash of blue light*

Mike: Oh man...

Peter: Mike, you talk to him. Sounds like he's speaking your language now.

Mike: Uh, yeah. (Ambles up to Micky) Hey there, buddy.

Micky: Hey there yourself.

Mike: We're lookin' for a Micky Dolenz. Used to inhabit your body. Seen him?

Micky: *gives Mike a weird look* I'm Dolenz. Marshal Dolenz to you.

Mike: (To himself) Damn it, he thinks he's back in one of our fantasies! (Out loud) Yeah, well, this Dolenz is an old pal of ours, and he used to be in your mind. Seen him lately?

Micky: I'm sorry, there, fella, but I don't know what you're talking about. *stands* I need to get back to the Sheriff's station.

Mike: This is the Sheriff's station. (Leans back) I'm the Marshal for the next territory.

Peter: We're his deputies!

Micky: No, you ain't. The Sheriff's female.

Mike: You have a female Sheriff?

Micky: Of course! *slight grin* She's a real cutie, too.

Mike: Her name wouldn't be Lauren Miller Dolenz, would it?

Peter: Lauren's not a Sheriff!

Mike: Remember how Mick an' Lauren were Sheriff and deputy in my fantasy durin' "Wild West Monkees?" He must think he's back there, or somethin' close.

Micky: *eyes narrow a bit* If you know about Lauren, then why did you just say YOU were Sheriff?

Mike: I'm one of her helpers.

Micky: *goes right up to Mike* You lie. I’ve never seen you before, and I'm always around the Sheriff's office.

Mike: I was just transferred from Dallas. (Nods at Davy) The little guy's a British cop from Manchester. The blond's a cop from New York.

Peter: (Makes a face) I'm not a... (Davy puts a hand over his mouth)

Davy: *mutters* Just play along, Petah.

Micky: *shakes his head* I will have to clear this with the Sheriff. She never said anything about transfers. *starts to leave*

Mike: No! (Tries to stop him) The carriage sprung a leak! We'll have to take you to her!

Micky: *Dodges Mmike* I have my own horse, thank you!*runs out*

Davy: 'E's getting away!

Mike: Damn it!

Peter: Come on! You have Ursula here, right Mike?

Mike: Yeah. We'll take her. The jeep probably wouldn't catch up, and I don't think your GTO would either, Pete, no matter how nice it is.

(The guys dash for the door themselves. Cut to the trio running for Ursula in a car garage. Mike slams into the driver's seat. Peter gets shotgun, and Davy ends up in the back. Ursula's face appears on the monitor as Mike turns the car over.)

Ursula: Mike, what's going on?

Mike: Mick ran off, Ursula. He thinks he's a cowboy.

Ursula: Come again?

Peter: He was doused with one of his own potions and keeps running through different personalties!

Ursula: (Sighs) He really has to start being more careful with those potions of his. His ancestor used to do things like this to himself and the others, too. Georgiano's concotions never seemed to work quite right. He once fed a goat something made of eggs and sixteen different herbs to improve the quality of it's milk. It laid eggs for months after that.

Mike: (As they pull out of the garage) I ain't never lettin' Mick feed our dog.

Davy: Urse, do you 'ave any suggestions of wot to do about 'im? Lauren said she thought 'e doesn't 'ave an antidote of any sort and that we'd 'ave to wait for it to wear off. Wot do you think?

Ursula: I'm afraid there isn't much I can do. I could try to heal him so the personality changes are less frequent, but this was done with chemicals, not Imagination Power.

Mike: Does anyone see him?

Davy: Take a look at the cloud of dust up a'ead.

Mike: (Jaw drops) I don't believe it.

(Micky proudly rides a horse down the sidewalk, ignoring the stares and gawking from passers-by.)

Peter: Where did he get the horse?

Davy: Must've imagined it.

Mike: Ursula, catch up with him. He's lookin' for Lauren. He thinks she's the Sheriff!

Ursula: All right. (She speeds up to where Micky trots on the sidewalk)

Mike: (Leans out of the car) Uh, Sheriff, most people who live in cities don't take kindly to folks ridin' on their sidewalks.

Micky: *does a double take at the car* What in the world? Get away from me!

Mike: Nothin' doin'! You're comin' with us, Sheriff!

Peter: Mike, don't scare him!

*Micky ignores Mike and makes the horse go faster.*

Ursula: Micky!

Mike: Come on, Urse. We can't let him get back to Lauren!

Peter: For one thing, they'll never let a horse on the freeway.

("All The King's Horses" begins as Ursula speeds after Micky's horse.)

(Mike tries to cut him off, but he's cut off by other cars instead. Mike curses. Peter lets out a wail.)

(Mike has to stop to put gas in Ursula. She lets out a happy sigh when he finishes. She was hungry!)

(Peter points to a man on horseback, but it turns out to be a real cowboy they don't know. Mike apologizes and speeds back up to find Micky.)

(Mike stops by Micky, who feeds his horse apples from a fruit stand.)

(Mike taps Micky on the shoulder. Hey Mick, get in the car and forget the darn horse!)

*Micky waves him off, shaking his head.*

(Mike tries again, but Micky makes the horse jump OVER the MonkeeMobile and it's shocked occupants!)