Everyone ready for some intergalatic traveling? ;)

Mike: Um, no.

Peter: Michael, it won't be that bad! I'm ready! :)

Micky: I am! :D ;)

Davy: Me, too! :D

(Mike sighs.)

(We open with a rehersal of "I'll Be Back Up On My Feet." The four Monkees sit in the studio with a couple of more guys on additional instruments. Two more men stand in the recording booth.)

Chip Douglas: (Leans into the room) Ok, fellas, it's all clear. That sounded really good.

Mike: It did? Sounded like all the others to me. Let's go at it one more time...

Micky: *groans* Not again. :P

Everyone In the Room: (In Unison) NO! :p

Mike: Ok, I can take a hint. :p

Guitarist 1: Not unless it's applied with a sledgehammer, Mike.

Bassist 1: We've been at this all afternoon!

Mike: Yeah, well, we have the studio until tonight. I want to get these last chords down, so we can finish this album off soon and get it out on time...

Chip Douglas: Look, Mike, under the circumstances, I think it would be best if we called it a day.

Micky: Thank you, Chip! ;)

Mike: Yeah, but...

Peter: (Puts a hand on Mike's shoulder) Michael, I know you want to work on the record, but we've been here since early this morning, AND we taped appearances on two local dance shows AND "The Glenn Campbell Show" this week! It's time for a rest. :)

Micky: Before we start World War III because everyone's tired and cranky. :P ;)

Guitarist 2: We've been bickerin' for at least two hours. :p

Chip Douglas: And I'm gettin' sick of hearing it.

Micky: I’m gettin' sick of being part of it. :P

Mike: Ok, we'll call it. For tonight.

Guitarist 2: All right! (There's a cacaphony of everyone running over everyone else as they dash for the door, squishing and squeezing each other. Finally, the Monkees, Chip Douglas, and the instruments - or what's left of them - are the only things remaining.)

Mike: (As Peter helps him to his feet) Everyone ok?

Chip Douglas: (Checks himself) Yeah. Nothing broken, as far as I can tell.

Micky: I think I'm here. *pats himself down* Yup, I'm all here. ;)

Davy: You sure about that, mate? ;)

*Micky sticks his tongue out at him.* :P ;)

Peter: I guess we'd better get the instruments together and head along home ourselves.

Mike: Yeah. Em promised me dinner...and to let it get cold if I was late for it. :p

Davy: That's funny, Daph said the same thing. :P ;)

Mike: (As he helps Micky right the drums) Hey, how's that kid comin'? She's due soon, ain't she?

Davy: Real soon. And Daph's being obvious about it.

Mike: Yeah, she has been actin' sorta funny lately.

Micky: Didja get a frying pan over the head yet? ;)

Davy: No, I didn't. :P

Peter: That's not surprising. All of the girls acted weird when they were pregnant.

Mike: Yeah, Em kept gettin' overdramatic...even for HER. :p

Peter: Valerie kept spacing out. She couldn't concentrate on anything.

Micky: Lauren got moody and hungry. She's starting in on the hungry part again. :P ;)

Mike: (Crooked grin) 'Course she's hungry. She has your kid in her. ;)

Peter: I'm sure she'll be beautiful. (Looks at Davy) They'll both be! :)

Davy: Thank you, mate. *pauses* At least with Lauren, Mick's kid stands a partial chance of being beautiful.

Micky: *grins* Oh, that's it. C'mere, Dave... ;) :P

Chip Douglas: (Laughs and ducks away as Micky goes after Davy) Ok, guys, I'm gonna see if I can get some grub myself, and I have a wife waiting, too. Have a nice night, and TRY not to kill each other. ;)

Mike: (Gets between Micky and Davy) Workin' on that, Chip, workin' on that. ;) :p

Peter: See you later, Chip! :)

*Micky and Davy take a moment to wave, then go back after each other again.* ;)

Chip: See you! (Ducks away from the squabbling trio again and heads out)

Mike: (Not looking up) Yeah, bye, Chip. (Grabs both Monkees' collars) Knock it off, you two. This room is in bad enough shape without you addin' to it. :p

Micky: Man, Mike, we're just messing around. Just letting off some steam. :P

Davy: Yeah, mate. We 'aven't killed each othah yet.

Mike: Well, see that you don't.

Peter: Not until we're finished making the album! ;)

Micky and Davy: Oh, alright. :P ;)

Mike: Ok, now, let's get our stuff together and get outta here. I wanna eat.

Peter: Me too. Val's at work, but Matilda should be at the Cartwright Mansion with Chrissy and Jordan. :)

Davy: I'm sure Mick is starving. ;)

Micky: Of course! ;)

Familiar voice: As much as I hate to deprive Micky of food... *Emilio shimmers into view* ;)

Mike: (Does a double-take) What in the...

Peter: (Gasps) It's Micky's clone from outer space! It has to be! He doesn't have scars or a mustache! :o

Emilio: *rolls his eyes* You fellas are getting a little too paranoid. ;)

Mike: Yeah, well, if you've been through what we've been through, you'd be paranoid, too. :p

Micky: *grins* Hey, Emilio! How's it goin'?

Emilio: *frowns a bit* It's funny you should ask, Micky. :P

Mike: Uh-oh. I know that face. Mick gets it, too. That's his "things are shit" face. :p

Emilio: You just hit the nail right between the eyes.

Peter: Wow. That bad, huh? :o

Emilio: I was actually looking for the Space Cops, but I got lost. I'm thinking you fellas would be more of a help, anyway.

Mike: (Raises his eyebrows) Space cops?

Emilio: *sighs* Yeah. See, the music on my planet is either being destroyed or horribly distorted. :P :(

Mike: What?

Peter: Oh, god, you poor guy!

Emilio: That's why I thought you could help me.

Peter: (Puts down his bass case and goes to Emilio) Of course, we will!

Mike: (Puts up a hand) Now, hold on just a second! How are we supposed to help an alien? We don't know anythin' 'bout your planet, other than you don't seem to know much 'bout OURS. :p

Emilio: I can do my best to fill you in about my planet. It really isn’t all that different from yours...mostly. ;)

Peter: Wow, traveling in outer space... :D

Mike: Man, my wife is gettin' dinner on the table, and I've got work to do!

Emilio: *grins again* I can bring you guys back in five Earth minutes. ;)

Peter: Oh, come on, Mike, you could work on songs anytime! Maybe this will even inspire a few!

Micky: What an adventure we could be in for! :D ;)

Peter: Haven't you said you've been getting bored with the albums lately? Didn't you want to do something different with the specials?

Mike: It's not that I'm bored, it's just...

Peter: What?

Mike: I just don't particuarly wanna be eaten by somethin' or run into crazy blue people or rhodondendrons!

Emilio: The people aren't blue... :P ;)

Micky: Mike, come ON!

Davy: Or we'll go without you. :P ;)

Peter: Michael, please. You said you wanted to do something different. Well... (indicates the alien) this is different! We won't be attacked by fans wanting our autographs or reporters wanting to ask us about the albums or our love lives! It'll be a nice, quiet trip! :)

Mike: (Rolls his eyes) Sure it will, Pete. (Sighs, then mutters) Ok, fine. I'll go. (Looks at the others) But if I die, YOU'RE tellin' Em. :p

Micky: Okay. ;)

Mike: (Turns to Emilio) Ok, alien, how are we gonna get to your planet? Where's your spaceship, or whatever?

Emilio: Well, I couldn't just park it outside the building in plain sight. *grins, then pulls a tiny ship out of his pocket* I shrunk it! :D ;)

Micky: *goes over to look at the ship* Groovy!

Peter: Wow! (Joins Micky)

Mike: You're kiddin'?

Emilio: Do I look like I'm kidding?

Mike: Yeah, but... (Goes to Emilio; he's holding a tiny version of the spaceship from "Monkees Watch Their Feet" in the palm of his hand)

Emilio: Mike, I know how you think. You won't believe any of this until you see it for yourself. Just trust me, okay?

Mike: How do you know how I think?

Peter: Do you read minds? That's so groovy!

Emilio: *shakes his head* I don't read minds! Are you kidding? I'm the outer space Micky! All three of these guys know the way you are, Mike. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. ;)

Mike: That's right, you...well, you musta gotten that when they made you.

Emilio: I did. *nods*

Mike: Well, ok, how are we gonna get into it if it's that small?

Emilio: We'll just have to go somewhere where I can unshrink it.

Davy: *grins* Or you could shrink all of us, mate. ;)

Emilio: *blinks* Never thought of that before.

Davy: Yeah, Mick, he's definitely your outer space relative. ;)

*Micky swats at Davy.* :P

Mike: Just bring us to normal size when we get off-planet. It would probably make GETTIN' off-planet a lot easier, too. They're probably already freakin' out at seein' a UFO out there. :p

Emilio: No problem. ;)

Mike: (Looks at the other guys) Hey, maybe we could shrink ourselves.

Micky: That'd be easy enough.

Mike: We'll just have to concentrate enough, I guess.

Peter: I'm ready! :)

Davy: I'm ready, too.

Micky: I'm all set. ;)

Mike: Ok, guys, let's go.

(There's a dark blue light around the four young men. When it subsides, Emilio is the only one left in the room.)

Emilio: *grins* These guys are GOOD. I knew I came to the right people. *shimmers out, leaving the tiny ship floating in mid air*

(Cut to the inside of the space ship, which looks more-or less as it does in "Monkees Watch Their Feet," without the Duplicating Machine, grandfather clock, or gorilla. There's a dark blue light, and the four Monkees appear.)

Mike: (Looks around; his eyebrows go straight up) Wow, get a loada THIS place!

Peter: It's even cooler than I remember!

Micky: Kudos to the decorator. ;)

Emilio: *shimmers in* Why, thank you, Micky. ;)

Mike: Oh, man... (rubs his head) Does anyone else have a headache?

Peter: (Also rubs his head) Yeah. Maybe it was shrinking. We've never done that before!

Micky: *groans* Could use some aspirin, which I'm sure would be economy size...

Davy: *holds his head* Let’s not use this powah very often. :P

Mike: You got anythin' like aspirin, Emilio?

Emilio: Let me check. *pauses, seemingly staring at nothing; holds a hand out and a bottle appears in his hand* This should help. One swallow ought to do.

Mike: (Holds the bottle) You sure this is safe for us?

Peter: I don't think he'd give us something that would hurt us!

Emilio: It's very safe! I like you guys! I'd never hurt you.

Mike: Fine, then. (He takes one and hands the bottle around to the rest of the guys)