Emma: Ok, now that I'm relaxing a bit....who's ready to go after Lauren?
Mike: Let's go!
Peter: Me!
Micky: ME!!!
Valerie: Me too!
Peter: (Whimpers) Davy's not back...
Emma: (Frowns) He's never on a date for this long...
Mike: Oh, man, I coulda told him that chick was no good.
Micky: I think we all could've.
Valerie: Maybe it's not that...
Peter: After what happened the other day?
Emma: (Sighs) You know Dave. When it comes to pretty girls, it's hormones first, brains later.
Micky: Sometimes brains not at all...
Mike: And it's gonna get him and all of us killed. I keep tellin' him that.
Emma: Ok, since we're short on time, I thought I'd skip the niceities and start at the Wharf, with a scene that seems mighty familiar to Micky...
(Micky, Peter, Emma, Valerie, and Mike walk into a sleazy bar that looks just like the one in "Alias Micky Dolenz". The guys wear shades and purple suits. The girls wear tight, slinky dresses. Valerie sports a fur stole and a birthmark on her cheek; Emma is wrapped in a fire-engine red feather boa that keeps getting in her mouth.)
Mike: (Whispers to the others) Ok, gang, everyone know the plan?
Emma: (Nods and tugs at a small microphone attached to her dress) Yeah, we ask around for contacts of the Purple Flower Gang and have them take us to wherever their hide-out is now.
Valerie: (Nods) The police will follow us once they see us leaving.
Peter: (Blushes) People are staring at us funny!
Micky: Just don't stare back.
Mike: (Mutters) Possibly because we look like notorious, violent criminals.
Emma: I don't like the way they're looking at me. :p
Mike: (Glares at one big man staring at Emma's bosum) I'm not wild about that myself, Em.
(Three men walk up to the group. One is taller and stronger than the others. All wear purple suits.)
Thug 1: Hey, George, what are you doin' here in the daytime? I thought you went to take the little bundle and the shipment back to the La Blanque place.
Mike: (Frowns and whispers to Micky) The La Blanque place? That old mansion near the beach on the other side of town? I thought that place was abandoned!
Micky: *nods* Uh, just thought I'd stop and get a drink first. *smirks*
Thug 2: (He's a bit smaller and leaner, with a wild look in his eye) Hey, where's Tommy-boy?
Mike: (Smirks) Out with some chick, where else?
Thug 3: (Very big and rather drunk) That's our Tommy-boy, all right! He loves to romance those chicks!
Emma: (Mutters) Girl-chasing seems to be a popular sport with short Englishmen...
Thug 1: Boss, I dunno if Hal here told you yet, but the Dolenz kid and his buddy Nesmith got away. That asshole Nesmith (Mike glares; Emma gives him a look, and he composes himself) went and squealed to the cops.
Thug 3: (Wails) We're sorry, boss! We know you wanted us to kill them, but Hal got carried away again!
Micky: *glances at Peter* It's been taken care of.
Peter: I did? (Mike smacks him; he gives him a funny look, then realizes what's going on and turns back to the thug) Oh, yeah, it's been taken care of, all right.
Thug 1: (Nods at Emma and Valerie, who do their best to look alluring) What's with the dolls?
(Both bristle at the "dolls," but Mike and Peter put their hands on their arms to calm them.)
Micky: *shrugs, grinning* The boys didn't want to feel left out.
Peter: Yeah! She's my doll! (Puts his arms around Valerie; she gives the thugs a shaky grin)
Thug 1: Since when did the idiot start havin' chicks?
Micky: Since I let him.
Mike and Valerie: (In unison) Hey!
Mike: (Grabs the man and holds him by the neck) Don't you ever call him that! Ever! Do you hear me?
Peter: Michael...
Emma: (Groans) Guys!
*Micky rolls his eyes.*
Thug 1: (Gasping) Got...it...Rob...
Peter: M...Rob, let him go!
Emma: (Sighs and tries to sound Marylin Monroe-ish) George, call him off. He might kill that guy, and we could use him.
Micky: *backhands Mike in the arm* Would you knock it off? Do you know how hard it is to find good hired help?
Mike: Sorry, Boss. Got carried away. (Drops the guy on the floor. The man clutches his throat, gasping.)
Micky: Don't let it happen again.
Thug 2: Man, Rob, you can't lose your cool like that! The cops are breathing down our necks as it is! If you start another brawl...
Peter: Oh, we get into those all the time!
Valerie: (Glares) When?
Emma: (Sighs and mutters) Long story. (Louder; puts her arms around Mike) Don't worry, boys. (Strokes Mike's chin) I can handle old Robbie-poo here.
(Mike's glaring daggers. Emma just smiles sweetly. ;) )
Thug 3: (Hiccups and holds up a tankard of ale the size of a head) Who's for a drink?
Peter: (Blanches) Um, no thanks. Do you have any green tea?
(Mike slaps his hand over his best friend's mouth; Valerie slaps her hand over her forehead. Emma groans.)
Mike: (Quickly) No thanks. We just came from havin' the biggest pitcher of Red Eye you ever did see! It was so big, they're using it for a swimming pool in San Diego!
Micky: And Rob here downed about half of it himself. *grins*
Thug 3: (Eyes widen) Wow! That's some drinkin'!
(Mike gives Micky a quick glare. Micky shrugs.)
Thug 1: (Frowns) Never knew you fellas to refuse a friendly pint or two. (Crosses his arms) You guys are actin' awfully nervous. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you weren't who you say you are.
Mike: (Takes his hand off of Peter's mouth) Of course, we're who we say we are! Who else would we be?
Thug 3: (Hiccups loud enough that the floor trembles a little) Barbara Streisand?
Thug 2: Are you sure you got rid of the other guys?
Mike: Sure, we're sure! (Elbows Peter) Hal, tell 'em how sure we are!
*Micky crosses his arms.*
Peter: (Nods) We're very sure!
Micky: See that?
Emma: (Takes a deep breath and leans over the man, stroking his hair) Now, why would the boss and two of his top boys lie to such a nice fellow like you? (Emma turns her face to the others and lets them see her total disgust, then returns to the man)
(Mike's face is getting red, and he clenches his fists. Peter puts his hand on his shoulder and gives him a calming glance.)
Thug 3: Enough of this! (Earth-rattling hiccup; he turns to the bar) Bartender! Bring three short pints for our friends here!
Peter: (Grins) Oh, just short pints! How bad could that be?
*Micky gives Peter a glare, then rolls his eyes.*
Mike: Wonder what would happen if we asked for tall pints?
Micky: *whispers* Let's not find out.
(The bartender brings three liquor glasses, each the size of a small keg.)
Thug 3: (Slaps Peter on the back; he would have ended up on the ground if it wasn't for Valerie) Drink up, my companions! We gotta celebrate tonight!
Mike: Um, couldn't we celebrate with milk?
Thug 2: What, you afraid of little pints of beer? The stuff is barely liquor!
Mike: That's little?
Emma: Better you than me, honey.
Mike: Um, well, George (gives Micky a meaningful glance), you're the boss. You go first.
Peter: Have fun swimming in beer! ;)
Micky: *gulps, glares at Mike and Peter* Uh, yeah, sure. *picks up one of the pints and rolls his eyes at them before taking a drink*
Mike: (The glass practically covers Micky's whole face) Well, Mick, how is it?
Thug 2: (As Micky downs the whole thing) The Boss can drink five of those without breaking a sweat!
Thug 3: Mick?
Mike: (Quickly) His nickname. From the mouse.
Peter: Yeah, sometimes we call him that instead of his real name to confuse people.
*Micky thumps the pint on the counter, then his head.*
Thug 3: Mouse! I'll drink to that! (Does so, downing yet another huge tankard)
Mike: Uh oh. (Shakes Micky on the back) Hey boss, you ok?
Micky: *mutters* I'm gonna kill you guys.
Valerie: (Mutters) He just drank a tankard of beer the size of Cincinatti. No, he's not ok!
Peter: (Looks at Mike) Um, Rob, I'll shoot you for it.
(The two guys do their "rock, paper, scissors" routine; Mike loses.)
Mike: (Mutters) Story of my life. (Grabs the tankard) Well, this has to be the most interesting glass I've ever seen. (Lifts it and looks under it) Oh, wow! It's imported!
Thug 3: It is? That's special!
Mike: See? (Points at the bottom of the glass) Says right on here, "Made in China."
Thug 1: Hey, Rob, quit stallin'! We gotta get to the La Blanque place soon, ya know!
Mike: (Smiles shakily) Oh, well, ok, here goes everything. (Downs the tankard. Wipes his lips) That wasn't so... (his eyes widen, and he passes out on the counter)
Emma: (Puts her hand on Mike's back, concerned) Um, honey, you ok?
Mike: (Moans) Nooooo...
Micky: *mutters* Welcome to the club.
Valerie: (Takes Peter's arm) Hal will pass on that, thank you.
Thug 1: Since when did the dummy's doll start ordering him around?
Peter: (Gulps) Since he was asked to drink a glass of beer bigger than he is. :o :p
Thug 3: That was in-vinegar-ating! (Gets up, stretches, and falls...right onto someone's table. The men and women who were sitting at the table jump up in annoyance)
Thug 1: Knew we shouldn't have let Harry have that last one. :p
Man: (Gets up and glares) Ok, who sent that guy over here?
Man 2: We were just havin' a friendly drink, and that guy passes out on us!
Mike: (Puts his head in his hands) Oh, man, this is startin' to sound familiar again. (Whispers) Em, can you get me discreetly to the bathroom? I don't feel so well.
Micky *groans* Room for another?
Emma: (Groans) Maybe I'd better. I'm not in the mood to see what you ate for breakfast.
Thug 2: (Steps up to the man) Hey, he just got drunk!
Thug 1: How would you feel if you ended up under the table?
Man 1: Make me!
(And he does, knocking him straight across the room as Mike and Micky dart for the bathroom and "A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You" starts playing. Peter and Valerie duck under a table and hold each other for dear life as bodies fly all over the place, sometimes literally flying on obvious wires. Emma keeps knocking men away from her obvious cleavage.)
(Mike and Micky emerge, looking green and shaky...and accidentally run into a large group of men, knocking them out.)
(Micky gets a hold of himself enough to grab the first thug by his collar as the romp comes to an end and Valerie and Peter emerge from the table. Emma goes to Mike's side and puts her arms around him.)
Thug 1: (Nods as Micky shakes his shirtfront) Ok, Boss, so maybe it is you. Only you and your guys can fight like that!
Mike: (Mutters) Yeah, accidentally.
Micky: That'll teach you to doubt us. *sways a little*
Emma: (To herself) Oh, shit. (Goes to Micky and takes hold of him) Look, fellas, we want to go to the La Blanque place, and we want to go now.
Mike: (Crosses his arms, but his knees are shaking) Yeah, we ain't in the mood for celebratin'.
Thug 1: Since when did the dames start giving orders?
Emma: (Takes the man from Micky) Since the dames got to be bigger than you.
Micky: *shaky grin* I wouldn't make her angry.
Peter: Yeah, she's even more violent than M...Rob when she's angry!
Mike: Look, we're tired of being double-crossed and triple-crossed and crossed over and cross-stitched, so could we please hurry this up?
Thug 2: Right, Rob. (Nods at the back way) Follow us. The car is out in the back parking lot. (They go to the back of the Wharf, stepping over the splintered furniture and the still-drunk thug whose fall started the brawl in the first place. He has a cute little smile on his hammy face.)
(The car is now a 30s vintage black and cream roadster with the top up. Another thug comes running up to them as they start to load into the car. He's another big guy, but a bit more intelligent-looking - and lucid - than the fellow who pressed the drinks.)
Thug 4: Hey, I just heard from Delilah. Says she's got her package over at the house, along with that new shipment of phoney twenties. (Grins) That was a great idea, Boss! Who'd ever think of looking in some old 20s mansion for phoney money?
Micky: *grins* Yeah, uh, thanks.
Mike: (Frowns and speaks loud enough so his receiver can hear) So, you moved the shipment of the counterfeits from the warehouse near the docks to the La Blanque place on Sunnyside Drive?
Thug 1: Didn't Marty just say that?
Peter: Well, we needed to repeat it for the people at home!
Emma: (Grabs Micky as the thugs start to push them into the car) Hey, Micky, didn't Davy say his date's name was Delilah?
Micky: *nods* And I bet I know what her package is.
Mike: (Groans) Oh, please let it be a coincidence.
Peter: They got Davy back! :o
(Yet another man comes barreling around the corner, this one a tall, almost bony older fellow.)
Thug 5: Cheese it, guys! I just saw bunch of cops! Shot one, but the rest could be on their way!
Thug 1: Damn! Come on, Boss! We'll lose them on the back ways!
(Micky climbs into the driver's seat and sends the car squealing out of the parking lot and onto the street.)
Mike: (Leans over Emma) La Blanque...I know that name. Velma La Blanque, the famous silent screen star.
Emma: (Nods and whispers) Yeah, it was her mansion during her glory days in the teens and 20s, but she dropped out of the movie business and went back to Europe when they discovered her accent was too thick for talkies. Other stars lived in the house after that, but no one's owned the place in about twenty years. It would be too expensive for anyone but a multi-quad-zillionaire to keep up now.
Valerie: (Softly) And the perfect place to hide stolen people and goods.
Peter: (Nods) Lots of places to play hide-and-go-find-the-fake-money.
(There's sirens in the distance.)
Thug 2: Hey, boss, here comes the fuzz! Step on it!
Peter: Step on what?
Micky: *gulps* I'm stepping, I'm stepping!
Mike: (Smacks Peter) Hal, knock it off.
(Which starts a wild free-for-all car chase to the tune of "This Just Doesn't Seem to Be My Day." Cars run into each other, spin out, block other cars, ride through other buildings, pass by storefronts and grab merchandise, and lean out and occasionally shoot at cops, who shoot back. The kids screech as a bullet flies through their window.)
(Finally, Micky turns down a series of quiet streets that border the ocean as the music comes to an end. They drive down a long, winding boulevard, with cracked sidewalks lined with huge, majestic, shady palm trees. Micky finally turns into a huge rusty wrought-iron gate with a big "LB" in the center. They pass overgrown gardens, beautiful trees draped with long, thick Spanish moss, and a cracked, dirty swimming pool, all with a magnificent view of the ocean.)
Emma: (Gasps and whispers) Holy shit! It looks like something out of "Sunset Boulevard."
Mike: Let's check for dead men doing narration in the swimming pool.
Valerie: If Gloria Swanson comes down those steps, I'm going to pass out.
(The house is ENORMOUS, twice the size of Grandfather Sebastian's home, and done in a cross between Art Deco and Spanish Mission style, with faded pink stucco, long brick steps, elaborately frosted glass in the windows and doors, and red clay roof tiles falling off in places. It carries a sort of doomed elegance, the weight of good times gone by that will never return.)
Peter: (Whimpers) I don't like this place. It's has such a sad aura, like it knows it was once a place of importance. :(
Thug 1: (Grins and climbs out) Well, here it is. Home sweet home. You sure know how to pick 'em, Boss.
Thug 4: Beats the warehouse by about eighteen longshots. :D
Micky: That it does. *makes a face*
Emma: (She's overwhelmed) Wow. I've never seen a house like this, not even in my dreams. (Sadly) I wish they could fix it up or something. It would make a nifty museum or hotel.
Mike: (Takes her arm gently and whispers) Yeah, I know, Em. It's a damn shame, the way they let all the history this town has go to waste. (Squeezes her arm) But, honey, we can't worry about that right now. What happens to the house isn't on us. We've got to concentrate on findin' Dave and Lauren.
Emma: (Nods, quietly) Right. (Louder) What was all that about a package?
Thug 1: Boss said somethin' about bringin' a couple of packages to the house. Real special. He was more excited about it than he was on our first jewel robbery back in '65. Must be real important stuff, maybe drugs or somethin'.
Mike: (Mutters) Oh, it's important, all right.
*Micky clenches his fists.*
Peter: And what about Delilah? Someone said she had a package, too!
Thug 1: (Makes a face) Probably some jewelry or somethin' Tom bought her. She's his favorite doll.
Peter: Hey, Dave's not... (Valerie immediately puts her hand over his mouth)
Valerie: (Smiles as sweetly as she can) Why don't you boys go find Tom? He's bound to be back from his date by now. Tell him we're here and we need to talk to him, rather quickly.
Mike: Yeah, it's a matter of some great importance!
Micky: *grins* Because the Boss said so.
Peter: (As Valerie takes her hand off his mouth) Yeah, the Boss needs to ask him about the packages!
Thug 1: Why don't you go up to Delilah's room? He's usually up there. (Grins) And Shorty should be working on something in the kitchen. He finally got the place cleaned up enough that it works.
Peter: But we don't know where...
Emma: (nods; Valerie takes Peter's arm a bit roughly) Right, fellows, we'll go find Delilah's room. (Runs up the stairs, tripping briefly in her high red heels) Damn shoes! This is why I prefer flats! :p (Mike catches her)
Mike: Careful, darlin'. Don't fall over your shoes. ;)
Emma: (Glares) Oh, cute, Mike. Very funny. (She stomps up the stairs and into the house)
Micky: *mutters to Mike* Don't piss her off, man. *rolls his eyes*
Mike: Well, you won't find most men sportin' shoes with heels that could take out a vampire in a pinch.
(The gangsters roll their eyes along with their bosses. Evidently, they've seen Rob start arguements before. The group heads around to the back gardens.)
(The others enter through the front, running into Emma, who has stopped in total surprise, gawking at the huge main room.)
Micky: Mind giving us a warning when you stop like that?
Emma: Good lord! I thought places like this only existed in Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movies! :o
(The room is huge and airy, done all in shades of faded pink and tan. What furniture that isn't covered with dusty, cobwebby sheets is Art Deco style, pink and thick, yet angular. The carpet is pink and matted in place. There's a dusty chandelier like something out of "The Phantom of the Opera" and a long, winding staircaise with tarnished metal railings.)
Peter: (Whimpers) This place is pretty, but so depressing! It's almost like the house knows it's been abandonded. :(
Mike: Man, I half-expect Lon Chaney to come down that staircase in a mask and cloak.
Micky: So much potential in a house like this. *whistles*
Mike: Micky, don't you even debate sliding down those railings. /:)
Micky: Not until I know the railings are safe.
Valerie: Guys, we've got to find the others. They could be anywhere in a house this size!
Peter: And don't forget, our doubles are probably here, too!
Mike: Yeah, man. Maybe we should have worn identification bracelets or something.
Micky: Let's get started. This might take a while.
Emma: Come on, gang. We'll split up. Micky, Valerie, and Peter can stay down here, and Mike and I will go upstairs.
Peter: We can check the first floor, and maybe the kitchen.
Mike: Better not check the kitchen. Micky may never leave. ;)
Emma: If Micky's double is anything like him, he may already be there. ;) :D
Micky: *sticks his tongue out* There's something else that's more important than food right now.
Peter: Oh, come on, guys, Mick's been through enough!
Micky: Thank you, Peter. Let's go already!
Valerie: (Nods) Peter's right. Leave him alone. (Takes Peter's hand) Come on, guys!
Mike: Don't forget, the cops should be showing up soon, too.
(The group nods and spilts up. Valerie, Peter, and Micky walk down a very pink, very dusty, dimly lit hall. Peter holds Valerie's hand for dear life. She squeezes it reassuringly.)
Micky: *mutters* This is really creepy...and that shade of pink is terrible! :-P
Valerie: It was probably nicer when it was new.
Peter: This Velma La Blanque lady sure liked pink! I feel like I'm walking in a dusty cotton candy factory! (Indicates a door) Here's a room. Let's try it! (Opens the door) Who wants to look first?
Micky: Here, let me.
Valerie: (Grins) By all means, Boss. ;)
Peter: Yeah, you're the Boss now! :)
Micky: *pained grin* Funny. *peeks inside*
Peter: Anybody home? (Gulps) Or, hopefully, anybody not home?
Valerie: Micky? (peeks in herself)
Micky: Light switch, anyone?
Valerie: (Feels around; finds one) Here it is!
(The room is filled with more dusty, sheet-covered objects and pink knick-knacks and furniture. Rapidly darkening light flits in from behind a tattered, pink ruffled organza curtain.)
Valerie: Gee, you can't tell Velma La Blanque liked pink, can you?
Micky: Feel like I'm gonna go color blind from all this pink. *makes a face*
Peter: I thought it was obvious! Everything's pink! Even the phone is pink! (Picks up the phone...but puts his hand into something papery) Hey, guys, this table doesn't feel like a table!
Micky: Huh?
Peter: (Pulls the sheet off, revealing a tall stack of crisp hundred dollar bills in a square, table-like shape) It's a money-table!
Micky: *eyes widen* Holy...
Valerie: Oh, good lord! So that's where they're hiding the loot!
Peter: Look at all this money! (Picks up a sheath of bills) There's got to be ten...no, twenty thousand dollars here!
Valerie: (Shakes her head) Don't plan on spending it any time soon, dear. It's fake.
Micky: Counting is about all it's good for.
Peter: Awww! (Shrugs) Oh, well, easy come, easy go. (Puts the money down)
Valerie: All those shapes...they're all counterfeit money!
(She starts yanking the sheets off the furniture. Some of the shapes are merely old, decaying chairs and tables, but most of them are stacks of bills in the shape of old, decaying furniture.)
Peter: Wow, this is a great idea! Make the money look like tables!
Valerie: They must have sold all the real furniture or put it in storage, then hid their loot in their place. :p
Micky: No one would ever think of checking any of this!
Valerie: Well, we found the loot, but we haven't found the "packages."
Peter: There's more?
Micky: *smacks Peter in the back of the head* Yes!
Valerie: (Sighs) We're still looking for Delilah, Davy, and Lauren, dear.
Peter: (Rubs his head) Oh, that's right! (Grabs Valerie's hand) Come on, let's go find them! I feel like the house's aura is starting to close in on me! It's so unhappy! It wants people to live in it again...and not just to hide fake money!
Micky: You live in it, not me. *heads for the door*
(Peter pulls Valerie back out into the hallway, following Micky. They peek into another room, and another, finding more counterfeit money but no "packages." Valerie finally ducks into a room in the back.)
Valerie: Hey, guys, I think this is the kitchen.
(They timidly enter the kitchen area. Unlike the rest of the house, it's spotless and looks recently used. The older appliances gleam white, the black-and-white checked floor hasn't a scuff-mark on it, and the pots and pans hanging around the marble countertops gleam. A small man in a black-and-white suit with with short, curly hair has their back turned to them. He's cutting meat with a cleaver.)
Valerie: (Taps his shoulder) Excuse me, sir?
(Man turns to them and jumps, yelling. The kids jump, too, startled. All four gasp and put their hands over their hearts.)
Man: Boss, don't do that! (sighs) Dinner will be in an hour, and we've got a couple of the boys cleaning the dining room for you and your visitor.
Peter: Visitor?
Man: (Shrugs) Don't ask me. Rob just came down here grumbling about the Boss inviting someone over for dinner and to do something fancy. No canned stuff. (Makes a face) Personally, I don't see anything wrong with canned stuff, but what the Boss wants, the Boss gets...or else. (Nods) Right, Boss?
Micky: *nods* Right.
Peter: Do you know where the Boss is keeping the visitor?
Man: Hal, have you been banging your head against the wall for fun again? I'm not the one to ask! (Points at Micky) Ask him!
*Micky tries not to smirk.*
(A blonde struts in at that point as Peter makes a face. She wears a 30s-style silver silk lounging suit with huge maribou collars and cuffs and maribou-trimmed heeled slippers. She puts her hand on the man's shoulder.)
Woman: Hi, Shorty. What's cookin'?
Shorty: Fil-et mig-on. (Points at Micky) His orders. Wants something fancy for some big visitor.
Woman: (Grins and takes Micky's hands) Oh, Boss, I did what you told me to! You're right, that little British kid is a lot like Tommy! He fell for the bait like a rat falls in the ocean in Norway.
Peter: (Scratches his head) I thought lemmings fall in the ocean in Norway.
Woman: They're all rodents, ain't they?
Micky: *nudges Peter; to the woman* Good job. *turns to the cook, corrects the pronunciation* And it's filet mignon. *makes a face* You're supposed to be the cook?
Shorty: (Shrugs) None of the other guys wanted the job. You asked us who was gonna cook, and I wasn't fast enough when everyone else stepped back. :p
Woman: (Giggles) Come on, Boss! You told me you wanted to talk to the British kid when I got through with him! I gave him a whiff of my special (winks) "perfume," just like you told me to, and he was out like a light! I've got him tied up in my room that opens onto the garden.
Peter: Wow, that's some strong perfume!
Valerie: (Whispers to Peter) Chloroform, Pete. She must have chloroformed him. :p
Micky: Yeah. Good job.
Peter: Why would she have chloroform perfume?
*Micky elbows Peter.*
Woman: (Makes a face) I thought you'd be more excited. (Frowns at Valerie) Who're you?
Valerie: (Takes Peter's arm protectively) A friend of Hal's.
Peter: (Nods with a determined look on his face) Yeah! I can have lady friends too, you know!
Woman: (Shrugs) I guess you can. You just never seemed to care about dolls before. You were always more interested in seeing how far your mouse could run before you caught him again.
Peter: (Grins) I caught a better mouse. ;) (Valerie grins)
Woman: Come on, Boss! I'll show you the great job I did! (Winks knowingly) And then, maybe you'll consider giving me better jobs around here, like helping with some of the heists?
Micky: I'll consider it. *small grin*
Woman: My room is down this way! (Drags Micky out of the kitchen, followed by Valerie and Peter. The blonde drags Micky to the very end of the room, to a pink door with an elaborate "LB" wrought-iron grill like the one on the fence.) This used to be Velma La Blanque's special room, before she gave up on Hollywood. She received all her gentlemen callers here. (Grins) You might say I'm carryin' on the tradition. ;)
Micky: I think you did just say that.
Woman: I did? (Smacks the side of her head lightly) Darn, Delilah, you've gotta start remembering where you put your thoughts! (Pulls the heavy pink door open and leads the group in.)
Peter: (Mutters as they enter) And people say I'm dumb.
Valerie: They obviously haven't met half the mobsters in LA. :p
(The room is breathtaking. Large and airy like the others, the furniture here has obviously been cleaned and repaired, the room itself repainted in shades of pink ranging from delicate shell to shocking neon. Wide French doors with brass handles open onto a cracked patio that leads through the lush, overgrown gardens. The grimy pool can be seen in the distance, with the ocean beyond that. It's dominated by a huge brass canopy bed, draped with heavy pink organza and silk ruffles. Laying on the mountains of silk and satin pillows and blankets is Davy. His hands are tied to the bed posts, his ankles and torso to the bed. He's got a pink chiffon scarf wrapped around his mouth. He sleeps very deeply. He is naked except for his boxers, which are covered with red hearts. Valerie has to cover Peter's mouth to suppress his gasp and exclamation.)
*Micky closes his eyes, trying not to laugh.*
Delilah: Did I do well, Boss? He tried to get away from me, but I kept him there, and when he kept struggling, I told him I'd let him smell my perfume and gave him this in one of my scarves.
(She picks up a dark bottle from the enormous pink and white vanity next to the bed and hands it to Micky.)
Delilah: Isn't he just adorable when he's asleep? :X
Micky: *nods, rolling his eyes* You did very well. *looks at the bottle* Nice. How can I talk to him if he's out cold?
Valerie: (Grins) Yeah, cute. ;)
Delilah: Oh, he'll be up soon! This stuff doesn't last for very long. It isn't that strong. (Davy begins to groan under the chiffon even as Delilah speaks. She grins and goes to him, sitting on the bed and ruffling his hair) Hi, honey. My friend is here to speak to you. He'll be brief (her grin grows even wider) and we can have more fun. Would you like that?
(Davy only groans.)
Micky: I think he's okay with it, Delilah.
Peter: Yeah, the Boss has really pressing business with him.
Delilah: (Gets up and nods) All right. I'll go sneak another marshmallow from the kitchen. I know I shouldn't spoil my dinner, but I always feel like eating candy when I've got my burner lit (elbows Micky hard, he cringes) if you know what I mean. (She wiggles her fingers at the group and heads out the door.)
Peter: (Goes to Davy's side in an instant; Valerie sits on an elaborate, boxy pink art-deco chair near the bed) Davy, are you ok? Did Delilah hurt you?
Valerie: (Giggling) Where did you get those boxers?
Micky: *holds a hand against his ribs* Man, that chick's gotta heckuvan elbow. *moves over to the bed* Dave?
Davy: (Peter removes the scarf) Oh, man...that chick...
Micky: Is bad news, man!
Peter: Well, we tried to tell you, Davy...
Davy: (Sighs) I know, Petah. I guess me hormones took over again.
Micky: Well, I think you've gotten what you deserve. *winks*
Davy: (Makes a face) You're gettin' me back for the Factory story, aren't ya?
Micky: *Nods* Yeah, pretty much. *grins*
Davy: As for the boxers, they were a present from me sistah and 'er husband. They thought it were hysterical. They've got queer senses of 'umor, those two. :p
Peter: How did you end up in here?
Davy: Delilah seemed all right at first, on the level and all, if a bit on the flaky side.
Micky: A bit?
Valerie: If she got any flakier, they could sell her at a diner counter with coffee and eggs. :p
Davy: (Glares) Well, anyway, aftah dinnah and dancing, she said she wanted me to see 'er place. Said she'd just in'erited it from 'er aunt and was real proud of it. So I went along wit' 'er, like a bloody fool. She said the place weren't in good condition 'cause she just moved in. I thought that seemed strange. The place looked like it ain't been lived in for years. She brought me in 'ere and locked me in, sayin' she 'ad to talk to 'er bosses. (Narrows his eyes) I thought I 'eard you, Petah, but you were talkin' silly, even for you, blabbin' on about playin' games with some kids or somethin'.
Peter: Well, sometimes I do talk silly. I tell pretty good knock-knock jokes. :D
Micky: *groans* Man...
Davy: (Gasps and squints at Micky) Mick, is it me, or are you wearin' make up or somethin'? I think I see a little purple under all that tan.
Peter: Emma said he had to wear foundation over his bruises, 'cause he got roughed up!
Micky: *lopsided grin* You heard Hal talkin' about pounding me into the pavement.
Davy: (Eyes widen) Oh, man. The way he were talkin', he really nailed ya.
Peter: Well, I don't remember any nails being on him, but he got hurt pretty bad. :(
Micky: Yeah. I would suggest not saying anything to make me laugh. *holds a hand to his ribs again*
Valerie: He's taped up and quite drunk. He and Mike had a little bit too much to drink at the Wharf.
Peter: They had these huge tankards the size of swimming pools!
Davy: Glad I went straight 'ere and not there. :p
*Micky sticks his tongue out at him.*
Davy: (Frowns) I 'eard me double, too. Said 'e had somethin' special to give to Delilah if she behaves, some pretty trinket or somethin'.
Peter: Oh, man, Mike's ring!
Micky: Awe, geez!
Davy: Mike's ring?
Peter: Mike bought Emma an engagement ring, and those mean gangsters stole it!
Davy: (Shifts in the bed) Man, that just ain't right! Mike wants so badly to do right by Em, 'cause 'is last marriage didn't work out. That must 'ave really 'urt 'im. (His eyes roll up to the ropes that bind his wrists to the bedposts) I don't mean to intrude, but could you possibly get those untied? This ain't exactly comfortable, you know! (Makes a face) That woman tried gettin' in me pants, and when I said "no" enough, she wrapped that damn scarf around me nose and mouth. It smelled funny, sweet and cloyin'.
Peter: (Grins wickedly) Maybe we should leave him like that. Payback for what he did to us in his story! ;) >:)
Micky: *grins* Yeah, I kinda like him this way.
Davy: But what if she comes back? :o
Valerie: We can't be at this all day, guys. We're going to need his help in finding Lauren, anyway.
Davy: (Eyes widen) Lauren? They got 'er too? Me double and Petah's were talkin' 'bout a package...
*Micky sets about untying Davy.*
Micky: What did you hear?
(Valerie joins him, going to his ankles.)
Davy: Just that the Boss was bringin' ovah some very special packages that 'e wanted no 'arm to come, because it would come in 'andy.
Micky: *frowns* I really don't like the sound of that.
Peter: Oh, man, Lauren and the baby!
Micky: "Come in handy?" What's that supposed to mean, other than as bait?
Davy: That would explain why the boss wanted to make dinnah for 'is "package." I thought 'e was goin' crackahs!
Peter: (Eyes widen) I'll bet he wants Lauren all to himself. He loves her.
Micky: *getting mad* He thinks he does!
Davy: (Sees Micky's angry expression) She's already got one curly-'ead nut, Petah. That's enough for any girl. ;)
*Micky glares at Davy.*
(The others finally finishing untying Davy. He sits up, rubbing his wrists where the tight ropes rubbed them raw.)
Davy: We've got to find Lauren. That rottah will probably try to seduce the poor girl. (Makes a face) I 'ave no idea what that bird did with me clothes. Coulda thrown them away, for all I know.
Peter: (Goes to a wide pink closet and opens the door) Wait, Davy. I have an idea. (Walks into the closet. It's takes up a whole wall and is filled with garments in every color in the rainbow) Why don't you dress up like Delilah? You're about the same size.
Davy: (Groans) Oh, not drag again!
Micky: *smirks* Oh, come on, Dave!
Valerie: (Takes a blond wig and sets it on his head) You don't make a bad blond, at that. ;)
Peter: You did it in Mike's imagination!
Micky: And for the contest. *grins*
Davy: But what about me voice? Delilah's got a 'igher voice than me...and no accent!
Valerie: Let the "Boss" do all the talking for you. You're supposed to be a flake, anyway.
Micky: *goes into his Cagney impersonation* You let me do all the talkin', see. *grins*
Davy: Not if you're gonna do it like that. (Makes a face) I 'ate it when you stay up watchin' the all night Cagney marathons on TV. :p
Micky: No *pauses, scratches his head*, I think it's still the beer. *makes a face*
Peter: (Throws out a pink silk dress with an organza ruffled collar and pink heels that look like they could have come out of one of the afore-mentioned Cagney movies) Here, Davy. This should fit you, and we can fill your bust with socks and stockings again to make it look right.
Davy: (Sighs and shakes his head at the dress) The things I do for me friends. (goes through another door that presumably leads to a bathroom as the other three try to repress giggles at his boxers. The moment he disappears, they can't stand it anymore. All three burst into laughter.)