Everyone ready to get ugly? ;)

Mike: I have a bad feelin' 'bout this.

Peter: I hope Christine is ok. :(

Micky: I do NOT like that sound of that. :P

Davy: Man, Mick, I thought she were talking about you.

Micky: Funny, Dave, real funny.

(Mike grins; Peter laughs.)

(We open with a slow pan down a dark street in Los Angeles, down to a mammoth-sized building that looks like it may have been a theater at one time. It's covered with elaborate ornamentation and stained glass windows and is far more Gothic-y than the smaller Royale Theater. The camera pulls slowly up to one window, where we hear the sounds of love-making and a croak that might once have been a human voice.)

*We move to a shot of the inside of the room. There is minimal lighting, just enough to see the whole room. Two people are in the overly large bed. A puff of smoke wafts upwards. Alex leans forward into the minimal light. He takes a drag on the cigarette he holds.*

Alex: *makes a ring with the smoke he puffs out* It's gonna be a real shame we probably won't be able to do this again. You're the best one since... *checks his watch* last Tuesday.

Girl: (Croaks) Huh? Why not?

Alex: Well, babe, you ain't gonna like the reason.

Girl: (Her voice is odd and scratchy) What happened to my voice?

Alex: Oh, that? That's just a drug we tried out on you. How do you like it?

Girl: Throat feels...raw...

Alex: That's the idea, honey. Not quite so perfect now, huh?

Girl: I feel so...strange...can't sing like this...

Alex: Who said anything about singing? >:)

(Sheila enters at this point, dressed in the same fairly sheer silk nightgown she wore in "MonkeeMen Vs Machine." She's smirking.)

Sheila: He just took care of my...quarry. How's yours coming? He has special interest in her.

Alex: Rather nicely, I'd say. *slings his arm around the girl's shoulders and waggles his eyebrows at her* She's a real piece of work!

Girl: I...am?

Alex: Oh yeah! ;)

Sheila: (Flinches at the sound of her voice) What WAS that stuff you and Andrew gave her?

Alex: A little concoction made by a potion each of us made separately, then mixed together.

Sheila: What did it do her voice? She sounds like a cat ate it and spit it out.

Alex: Let’s just say that the results you hear are similar to drinking a mild acid. This little bird won't be singing anytime soon.

Sheila: What a pity. She did have a lovely voice. (Sighs) But she crossed the wrong man. Andrew does not like to be denied, and he really does seem to have been stuck on that girl. He's ready for her now. The music should start soon.

Alex: And she's ready for him, Milady.

Girl: My voice...my beautiful voice...

Alex: Gone, kaput, it's outta here!

Sheila: As you will be shortly. Alex, remove her soul.

Alex: *holds both hands up* You got it, Milady. *claws appear at his fingertips* Been nice knowing ya, babe.

Girl: Wha...

*Alex swipes both hands at her chest and comes away with a white light. He's grinning wider than after one of his conquests.*

(The girl screams, then goes limp, the light going out of her eyes, as haunting organ music begins in the distance.)

Sheila: I'm going downstairs. Alex, shave her, then bring her down to Andrew. It sounds like he's ready.

Alex: *as the white light disappears and his hands return to normal* It'll be a matter of moments...

Sheila: (The girl sits up, her eyes glassy; she stands slowly and unsteadily) I can't believe how well this music of his and yours works. And she's in a complete trance?

Alex: Completely, one hundred percent.

Sheila: Very, very good. This was such a grand idea of Andrew's, this wax museum. Benefits all of us, really. He gets his revenge on those who shunned him in the operatic community, and we get souls. (Grins) Miss Webber's former lover was really quite good. No offense to Andrew, but I can understand why she left him for her career and her leading man. Andrew just took care of him proper.

Alex: And she was no slouch herself. ;)

Sheila: Well, see to it that she's brought to Andrew. I'll see if everything's ready.

Alex: Already on it, Milady.

Sheila: Very good. (She heads downstairs.)

Alex: *makes an electric razor appear* And now, honey...

*There's a black blur as Alex goes to work with the shaving. When he's finished, she's been completely shaved everywhere.*

Alex: I am thorough. Hell, I'm good.

Girl: Yes.

Alex: Thank you. Now, come along. Follow me, it's time for you to see Andrew.

Girl: I will come. (She follows Alex downstairs as the organ music continues.)

(Cut to a huge room in the back that looks like an ornate lab from a science fiction movie. An elaborate chemistry set stands along the length of one wall, variously colored liquids fizzing away. Huge pots of bubbling wax stand in the middle, and another hangs above them. And here, there, and everywhere are extremely life-like wax statues. Some are fully-painted and costumed, looking like life-sized wax versions of real and imaginary people, including some horror figures; others are not yet costumed or formed, just wax with arms, legs, and the beginnings of faces. A tall, relatively handsome, dark-haired man with a mustache and goatee and angular, chiseled features works on smoothing wax on one figure that is beginning to develop grotesquely masculine features.)

Man: (Mutters to himself) Yes, yes, this is how you should look. You shouldn't have done that...but maybe you couldn't help yourself. She always WAS a flirt, flitting from one man to the next. You'll never be a pretty boy again. You'll look like what I want you to look like now. (There's the sound of a heavy door as Alex leads the girl down a long staircase to the lab.) Ah, here's our next model. How does this one look?

Alex: Ugly as sin. I love it.

Man: He'll make a lovely deformed monster to frighten the children. (Turns to her; his grin becomes almost frighteningly evil) Yes, yes. Open your mouth, dear, and let your Andrew hear you. You wouldn't sing for me when we were lovers, but sing for me now.

*Alex folds his arms, smirking.*

(Girl tries to sing what sounds like "Can You Dig It?", but it comes out garbled and scratchy, like a very worn record.)

Andrew: (Evil grin widens) Yes, that's music to my ears. (Turns to Alex) Combining the formulas did work. You're a genius, my boy.

Alex: Was there any doubt? ;)

Andrew: Yes, you and that young boy of yours, your pretty little Raoul, you turned me into the manager. You were the ones who got me fired from the City of Angels Opera. Just because I'd get a little violent! I was the best conductor they had, the best songwriter, and they...they... (angrily picks up a scalpel from the tables near the wax cauldrons and throws it as hard as he can across the room, breaking a large beaker of red and purple fluid)...they threw me away like I was nothing! X(

*Alex smirks again.*

Sheila: (As she joins them) What was THAT? Andrew, you really must learn...(but Andrew turns around with another scalpel in his hands in her face as she joins the men)...that you can throw scalpels anywhere you please. Just try not to destroy the equipment. Some of these are antiques, dating to the turn of the century.

Andrew: (Calms himself) Sorry, Miss Sheila. I suppose I got a bit carried away.

Sheila: A bit?

Andrew: (Turns to his grotesque waxwork) I'll finish him later. What do you think of him, my dear? Won't he make the most delicious monster?

Sheila: He'll be just divine, Andrew darling. One of your best yet.

Andrew: And she...(gently pushes the girl on a table near the chemistry sets) will be the most beautiful of all my creations, my Jenny Lind, the soul of the most famous opera singer of the 19th Century, the woman who worked with none other than PT Barnum himself!

Sheila: (Sighs as Andrew goes closer and closer to the girl, caressing her) We'll just leave you two...alone....

Alex: Do we have to? ;) >:)

Andrew: (Murmurs as Alex and Sheila go upstairs) Christine, Christine, my love. Now, I will have your body and cut it, as you once cut my heart and soul when you left me...

Sheila: Um, Alex, I think he really wants some time alone with her before he...(we see cut to the shadow of Andrew's hand and the scalpel on the wall thrusting downwards and hear scratchy, croaking screams)...does that. :p

Alex: Damn, I always miss out of the good stuff. :P

Andrew: (We see him pick up Christine, now totally lifeless, his white jacket stained red) Now, my beloved, you are ready to be immortalized.

Sheila: (Smirks as Andrew carries her over to the chemicals) This was a brilliant idea, wasn't it? You do meet the most INTERESTING mad scientist/conductors.

Alex: That I do.

(Cut to Andrew as he pulls on leather gloves and takes some strong-smelling chemicals in his hands.)

Andrew: We must embalm you first, then make sure the wax will stick. You'll be lovely forever, my Christine. Forever beautiful. Forever mine. >:)

Sheila: (Smirks as we return to them) And you said the young lady was working for the Monkee movie, right?

Alex: *also smirks* Yeah, she was.

Sheila: That's perfect. We'll attract more souls and the Guardians in one fell swoop. Of course, we won't let Andrew have the Guardians to play with, but I'm sure with that wonderful old organ making it's music, it'll be no problem to get them under our thumb. >:)

Alex: I can't wait. >:)

Sheila: And the organ will attract plenty of other souls we can enjoy before Andrew goes berserk and decides he wants them for the museum. (Sighs) He's stark, raving mad, really, but we need his expertise with music and sculpting AND his organ.

Alex: I thought he was perfectly normal. *shrugs* ;)

(Andrew can be seen in the background, working on the other statue again. There is now a figure covered with a sheet on the table.)

Sheila: Even you aren't that obsessed with your women, and you know how to aim better with the scalpel. ;)

Alex: I think I'll have to disagree with not being as obsessed with women, but I do have much better aim with a scalpel and other things. ;)

Sheila: I can understand why he was fired from the opera company, though. He's too temperamental for his own good. You never know when he'll fly into a rage.

(Andrew is now painting the face of the standing wax figure, muttering to himself about how he'll show that blasted opera company and Christine and everyone.)

Sheila: If he's not more careful with the wax and the chemicals, he'll burn this place to the ground. :p

Alex: Maybe I could see if there's someway I can make this place inflammable.

Sheila: A place this old? Good luck.

(Andrew is covering the wax figure with fur and tattered clothing, muttering a bit louder now about how he'll get everyone for what they did to him, sometimes waving his chisel.)

Alex: He oughtta be careful... might put an eye out. *chuckles* ;) >:)

Sheila: (Shakes her head) This is amusing, but I'm hungry. Would you like to get lunch before we have help Andrew prepare for tomorrow's grand opening? His wax figures should keep him busy for a good long while.

Alex: Lunch? You said the magic word! Let’s go grab some grub and prepare for some fun. ;) >:)

Sheila: I'm all yours. Well (sees Alex's hopeful expression) ALMOST all yours. ;)

Alex: Damn. :P

Sheila: Just leave me some lunch this time. I need to eat too.

Alex: Oh, alright.

(Sheila and Alex head up the stairs and out the door, leaving Andrew muttering as he transforms his standing wax statue into a particuarly grotesque wolfman. He turns to the covered figure on the table, still blood-spattered and holding his knife, as the camera fades out.)