"Monkees in England"

By:  Mickys411 and Larrysgirl  Rated PG for violence

It was just another typical day at the pad, the guys had just finished practicing, and decided to take a break.
"Gee, it sure is a quiet day," said Peter.
"You can say that again," said Davy, picking up the phone to call yet another girl.
"I’d welcome any news, even bad," said Micky, getting a bottle of soda from the fridge.
"Well, the paper came today, and there was nothing interesting, but maybe the mail came," said Mike.
He checked the mail and came back with some letters in his hand.
They gathered at the table in the kitchen to figure it out.
Mike began to sort it out.
"Let's see bills, that's me, Peter you got a letter from your Mom, Micky, this is for you, and Davy, you got something from England.”
Micky opened his mail and read it.
"Dear Occupant, you may have already owe us 1 million dollars."
He made a sour face, crumbled the paper, and tossed it away.
"Hey, this letter's from my grandfather!" Davy said happily reading his letter.
"You seem quite happy to hear from him." said Mike.
"Is he gonna give us 1 million dollars?" Peter asked.
"No, but listen to this,” Davy continue to read, “He's invited us to England for a few days.”
"Sounds groovy, but we don't have the money to travel to England, heck we don't even have the money to go down to the corner for gum," said Mike.
"It said all expenses paid," Davy read.
"What are we waiting for then?" Micky said.
"Wait a second,” said Mike, “Are you sure he said that?"
Davy handed him the letter. Mike read it to himself.
Peter, Micky and Davy waited for an answer. Mike then spoke up.
"I think we better start packing," he said.
The others were happy to hear the news and headed up stairs to pack.
The next day, the guys were packed and headed for the airport.
Davy, who brought his letter along to show his grandfather that they got it, and replied to his invitation.
"Man, this is gonna be outasite, I've never been to England before," said Micky.
"Me neither," said Peter who was just excited as his friends.
The guys got their tickets, boarded the plane and soon, they were up in the sky, and headed for England.
"Just wait, till you guys get there, you won't believe it," said Davy.
They all couldn't wait for the plane to land and check out England.

The four Monkees fidgeted in their seats during the long trip to England. The seats were small and narrow, and it was hard to sleep with the crying babies on board. Plus, there was Micky asking 'Are we there yet?' every five minutes. Still, it was a free vacation, so they put up with it.
"I didn't think England was so far away." Peter remarked to Davy. "I'm gonna ask the pilot how much further."
"Peter, we just took off two hours ago." Davy replied, "We're probably still over Texas."
"Texas?!" Peter exclaimed. "Maybe we'll see Mike's Mom's house!" He looked out the window.
Davy rolled his eyes. "You do that Pete."

Finally the plane landed at JFK airport for refueling. The passengers were told to be back on the plane in one hour so they could continue on to England.
"Well, let’s look around a bit." Mike said, standing up and promptly hitting his head on the overhead compartment. Fortunately, his wool cap absorbed most of the blow. Peter giggled at Mike: then stood up and hit his head! Micky started to stand up and laugh at Peter and, you guessed it! He hit his head too! Davy smiled and stood up; but being several inches shorter than his three friends, he didn't hit his head!
"What's the matter fellas?" Davy asked innocently.
"Not a word, midget." Mike growled, rubbing his head. "Let’s go."
Still smiling, Davy led his friends out of the plane and into the terminal. They walked inside and gaped at how huge the place was. There were several shops and restaurants along the corridors to look at. What caught their eyes at once was a music store. Keeping an eye on the clock, they walked inside.
"May I help you?" The young saleslady asked.
"No, we're just looking..." Davy replied turning to the lady and at once getting stars in his eyes,"...at something beautiful."
Mike grabbed Davy's shirt and pulled him away. The saleslady giggled. The four guys walked around looking at the instruments. The place seemed well stocked, even better than the stores they had closer to home. They were in the back of the store when suddenly they heard the saleslady scream. The Monkees ran back to the front of the store. They saw the saleslady struggling with a guy in a trench coat over a pair of maracas.
"No, let go! You can't have them!" She yelled.
"Gimme those maracas, they're mine!" The guy snarled.
"They've been sold to someone else!" The saleslady cried.
"Too bad! I'm taking them!" The guy yelled and was about to hit the saleslady when the Davy arrived.
"Leave her alone!" Davy yelled.
"Or you'll do what?" The guy asked, pulling a gun out of his trench coat. He pointed it at Davy.
Before anyone could reply, a bass drum suddenly rolled down a side aisle and knocked the man to the floor. Mike kicked the gun out of the guy's hand while Davy took a maraca from the saleslady.
"Or I'll do this!" Davy said, and hit the man on the head with the maraca. The man went out like a light.
Micky and Peter came out of the side aisle. They had rolled the bass drum at the man in the trench coat.
"Nice aim, Pete." Micky said smiling at Peter.
"You're not so bad yourself, Mick." Peter replied.
"Are you OK miss?" Mike asked.
"I'm fine." She replied, "Thank you guys for your help." She went to each Monkee and gave each of them a kiss. They blushed and tried to look modest.
"What did he want with those maracas?" Davy asked as he tied the mans hands together with the belt of his trench coat.
"I don't know." The saleslady replied. "They were to be picked up today by somebody else, but he wanted them instead."
"Hey look!" Peter exclaimed, picking up the maraca Davy had used on the man. It had a small door on one side that had opened up. Inside was a piece of paper. He opened up the paper and read the contents.
"What does it say Pete?" Micky asked.
"It can't say anything, Mick, since its just paper, you have to read it." Peter replied seriously.
While Micky put his head in his hands, Peter read the note.
"You may have won One million dollars in the 'Not a chance in this lifetime sweepstakes."
"Oh." Davy replied, "I thought it might've been a 'doomsday bug' formula or something like that."
"Yeah, like that would ever happen to us." Mike replied.
The saleslady called the police and they quickly came and took the man in the trench coat away.
"Well, it was nice meeting you miss, um.." Davy said, getting stars in his eyes again.
"Lucy. My name is Lucy." She replied, starting to get stars in her eyes too.
Micky looked at his watch and with a shock notice the time.
"Gosharoony! Look at the time! The plane's gonna leave without us!"
Mike and Peter looked at their watches and noticed Micky was right. They picked Davy up and bodily started to carry him out of the store.
"Its been nice meetin' ya Lucy!" The Monkees called back to their new friend.
"Bye guys!" Lucy called back, waving. She sighed. Maybe someday she'll meet a guy who wasn't just passing through.

The four Monkees made it back to the plane just before the doors were closed. They settled back into their cramped seats and soon they were off to England.
"Are we there yet?" Micky asked.
"Ask that again Micky and I'll tie you to the wing." Mike replied.
Micky was silent the rest of the trip.

It might have been a long trip, but the Monkees finally made it to England.
Davy turned to the others, who were asleep.
"Hey fellas, wake up, we're here," he said.
Mike stirred a bit, but woke up.
Since he was sitting by a window, he looked out to see where they were.
"By golly you're right," he said
"What's going on?" said Peter waking up.
"Are we there yet?" Micky asked.
"I’d tie you to the wing of the plane for saying that, but we're here already," said Mike.
They got off the plane, gathered their luggage, and Davy called his grandfather to tell him that they came.
A while later, Davy met up with the others at the luggage claim.
"You know, I told my grandfather we were here, but he didn't seem too happy," said Davy.
"I think maybe you told him you bought us along." Mike said.
The guys then rented a car for their visit, and drove to the grandfather's house.
As they drove, they got a lot of cars honking at them. It was because Mike was driving on the right side, instead of left.
Davy asked him to pull over, and did the driving the rest of the way, since he was familiar with the road.
"Are we there yet?" Micky asked once again.
"If you keep saying that, we're heading back home!" Mike said in a stern voice.
"But I didn't say a word," pouted Peter.
"Relax Peter, it's just a figure of speech," Mike said.
"From who?" Davy asked.
"My mom."
As they drove, they got to check out the scenes of England. It was really different from Ca.
Micky managed to take a few pics with his camera.
Although it was a nice ride, all Davy could think about was what was wrong with his grandfather.
His thoughts were broken when he was interrupted by Micky.
"Are we there yet?" he asked for the millionth time.
"Quiet Micky!" went Davy, and Mike.
Peter just giggled at him, after a shameful look came across Micky's face.

After an hour or so, Davy steered the car onto a side road. Once on the side road, it was another twenty minutes through picturesque villages until they arrived at Davy's grandfather's house. Actually, it was more like a mansion, surrounded as it was by a stone wall and an iron gate. The gate was open, so Davy slowly drove through the entrance.
"Ah, home sweet home." Davy said with a smile.
"You really lived here?" Peter asked amazed.
"Yep, from when I was fourteen, when me mum died, until I was almost nineteen, when I left here to find fame and fortune in America." Davy gave his three friends a sly smile. "Instead I found you three blighters!"
"Hey!" Micky, Mike and Peter replied in mock anger. They started hitting him over the head.
"OK, Ow! I'm sorry!" Davy replied laughing and covering his head with one hand, "I was only joking! You three are the brothers I never had! I would've been back living here a long time ago if you three hadn't convinced Grandfather of your loyalty."
Davy was referring to the time he had lied and told his Grandfather he was a success in America. When his Grandfather came for a visit and discovered the truth, he was all set to bring Davy back to England. Only by putting forth a huge effort to try and make Davy and his Grandfather miss their plane, was Davy allowed to stay with his friends.
"You're like a brother to us too, shotgun." Mike replied, mussing up Davy's hair.
Davy pulled the car up to the front entrance and shut off the motor. The Monkees looked up at the large two-story house in awe. Davy smiled at the memories the place brought back.
As they were getting out of the car, the front door was opened by an elderly gentlemen in butler's uniform. He peered through his glasses at the visitors, then broke out in a big grin when he recognized Davy.
"Is that you, Master Davy?" He asked in a scratchy voice.
"Mildew!" Davy shouted happily and walked over to the old man. The two men hugged each other warmly. Suddenly, they remembered the others and broke the embrace. Mildew cleared his throat. Davy smiled sheepishly.
"Mildew, these are my three best mates, Micky, Mike and Peter. Micky, Mike and Peter, this is Mildew, my Grandfather's butler since...gee...Queen Victoria?" Davy smiled at the old man.
"Now, none of your lip, young man!" Mildew chided him, playfully tugging Davy's ear, "I'm pleased to meet you gentlemen...and lady." Mildew said to Micky.
"Lady?!" Micky retorted.
"It’s the hair, Mick." Mike said quietly, referring to Micky's curly hair. Louder, he said "Its a pleasure to meet you too, sir."
Davy and Peter barely kept their laughter in check.
"Oh, I'm sorry sir, it’s these old eyes of mine." Mildew replied.
"Is my Grandfather here?" Davy asked.
"Yes, Master Davy. He's in the upstairs drawing room, waiting for your arrival." Mildew replied.
"How's he been, Mildew?" Davy asked, "He didn't seem to happy when I rang him a few hours ago."
"He's as well as can be expected at his age, Master Davy. Please now, come inside everyone. I'll have your luggage brought to your rooms. Mister Jones told me to bring you to him as soon as you arrived."
"Lead the way, Mildew." Davy said.
The Monkees followed the butler inside the house. Davy couldn't wait to see his Grandfather again, and finally find out what was wrong. He hoped it was something he could handle.

The Monkees were lead into a room, that had tons of books on shelves, a fireplace, with a fire, a mantle of statues, and the walls were green wallpapered.
Davy's grandfather was seated on a red leather chair, reading a book.
"Sir, your grandson and his friends have arrived." said Mildew.
Davy's grandfather stood up, greeted his grandson with a hug and a hand shake.
"Grandfather, you remember my friends," Davy said indicating the guys.
"Oh, yes, the chef, house boy and chauffeur right?" said the Grandfather with a sight chuckle remembering the time he came to America, and the guys made him think Davy was famous.
That made The Monkees laugh to.
"Please, have a seat. Mildew, please put some tea on, I'm sure these boys will fancy a spot."
"I'll take a whole cup please," said Micky.
Everyone laughed, expect for Peter who wasn't sure what that meant, but then joined them.
Moments later, the five of them were seated, and drinking the tea.
"Same taste as always, Mildew," said Davy drinking his cup.
"Thank you Master Davy," said Mildew.
Davy then turned his attention to his grandfather, who was in a deep thought, stirring his tea.
"Are you all right Grandfather," he asked.
"I'm just fine my boy," his grandfather answered back.
"You know, when I called you earlier, you sounded kinda down."
The Grandfather let out a breath.
"I might as well tell you Davy. I'm may lose the house."
"Lose the house?" the Monkees said all together.
"Why's that?" Mike asked.
"Well, the economy’s been bad, I haven't been able to keep up the payments, I had to left all the staff go, except for Mildew, because he'd said he'll work for free," the grandfather said.
"You can't lose the house, grandfather, it's part of our family history!" Davy said getting worried.
"Now wait a second, just how long has this house been in the family anyway?" Micky wondered.
"For many, many years, since the 14th century to be exact, passed down by our long lost relatives," Grandfather continued.
Peter then began to sniffle.
"That's the saddest story I ever heard," he whimpered.
"I had to save some spare change, just to get you boys to come, but I didn't expect you to come so soon."
"Grandfather, we're gonna help you get the house back," said Davy.
"I don't know Davy, you may not have much time to come up with the money.
"How much time do we have exactly?" Mike wondered.
"About midnight, 5 days from now," said Grandfather checking his pocket watch.
He then turned to The Monkees.
"You boys must be tired after your long trip."
He called in Mildew again.
"Mildew, please show my grandson and friends up to the guest quarters," he said to the butler.
"Yes sir," Mildew answered back.
He helped The Monkees with their luggage upstairs to where their rooms were.
Mike and Davy argued over who should bunk with who, because both Peter and Micky snored.
Mike ended up bunking with Peter, and Davy with Micky.
The rooms each had two single beds, two drawers, and a dresser, as well as bathrooms.
"Nice, all the comforts of home," Peter said checking the rooms out.
"Yeah, your home shotgun, not mine," said Mike.
The rooms had doors on the side, which led into one or the other room.
That night, Davy couldn't fall asleep.
It might have been Micky's snoring, or that he was worried about his Grandfather

Davy looked over at the snoring Micky. He sure wasn't going to get any sleep tonight! Davy quietly got out of bed and put on his robe and slippers. He walked over to the door, took a last glance at Micky, and went out into the hallway. Quickly remembering the layout of his former home, Davy walked down the hall and towards the library. Just before he went inside, Davy heard a noise and stopped. It sounded like someone else was in the library! Putting his ear to the door, Davy heard someone rustling papers and opening and closing books. Davy wondered who it could be. Neither Grandfather or Mildew would be up at this hour. Deciding discretion is the better part of valor, Davy decided to get the other three before charging into the library. Davy slowly started to back up....and bumped into someone, or something. He spun around, fists up, to confront what was behind him.
It was Mike.
"What are you doing?" Mike asked quietly, smiling a little at Davy's fighting stance, "Shadow boxing?"
Davy lowered his hands, relieved. "I couldn't sleep with that freight train roaring in the bed next to me, so I was going to go into the library. But I'm hearing noises inside there."
Mike walked past Davy and put his ear to the door. After a few seconds, he too heard the rustling of papers and books being slammed shut.
"I hear it too, Davy." Mike whispered, "Maybe its your Grandfather."
"Can't be." Davy replied, "Grandfather seldom stays up past 9:30. Same with Mildew."
Suddenly Mike and Davy gripped each other tightly.
"Burglars!" They whispered to each other in fright.
"We..we have to do something, Mike." Davy said, "We can't let anybody take what little my grandfather has left. There are some rare books in that library!"
"You're right, Davy." Mike replied, "We have to help your grandfather any way we can. Now listen. On the count of three we'll charge in and hopefully take them by surprise."
Davy nodded in agreement. The two men took position in front of the library doors.
"OK now," Mike said, "One."
"Two." Davy answered
"Three!" Mike and Davy said together. They burst into the library, fists up and ready.
The library was empty.
The only sign anybody had been there was the light shining on the big desk in the middle of the room. Mike walked over to the side of the doors and felt around until he found the light switch. The lights came on in various places around the library, just slightly making it easier to see. The two men walked over to the big desk. Lying on top were several old books, some were open, some not. Several pieces of paper were scattered on the floor around the desk.
"It looks like we at least scared off whoever was in here." Davy said.
"Yeah, it looks like they left in a hurry." Mike replied.
The two Monkees picked the papers off the floor and put them back on the desk.
"By the way, Mike." Davy said. "Why are you up? Was Peter snoring that loud?"
"His snoring could rival a Boeing 707." Mike said shaking his head. "Hey, what's this?" He continued, looking at an old piece of parchment in his hand. "It looks like a map."
Davy took the parchment from his friend's hand. "Yeah, its an old map of the nearby village. Here's grandfather's house." Davy said, pointing with his finger.
As if reading each other's thoughts, Mike and Davy looked at the books that had been thrown around on the desk. They were all very old books, at least a century old or more, and they all were about the local landmarks and geology.
"Someone sure is interested in the history and geology of the area." Davy commented. He then noticed a book lying open, pages down, on the floor.
"Aw man look at this," Davy complained as he bent down to pick up the book. "The spine on this book is broken now."
As Davy picked up the book, a small yellow scroll fell out from between the book's spine and the cover. Davy picked that up as well.
"That looks interesting." Mike said, "Anything on it?"
Davy slowly opened the scroll onto the desk. It was faded from age, but still legible.
The young Englishman's eyes went wide as he read the scroll's contents....

The next day, The Monkees, Davy's grandfather, and Mildew were sitting around the table in the study, looking over the map.
"Yes, judging by the by the map, there's a treasure located somewhere in the village." said Davy's grandfather.
"Treasure?" the Monkees said all together.
"Yes, my family had a treasure worth millions, but it was lost many years ago,"
"Has anyone ever try to find it?" Mike asked.
"They tried, and failed."
"Hey, I remember you telling me stories about treasures and all that stuff," said Davy.
Just then the phone rang.
"Excuse me sir." Mildew said excusing himself.
"Wow a long lost treasure," said Micky.
"I can't believe it either," said Peter.
"Sir, the bank wants to talk to you," said Mildew entering the room again.
Grandfather sighed, and went to talk to them.
Mike then call to the guys to the other side of the room.
"This is getting serious, we gotta find that treasure, with that your grandfather can keep his house." Mike said indicting Davy.
"I'm not sure." said Davy.
"Come on, you want to help your grandfather." said Micky.
"Yea it's worth a try," said Peter, even though wasn't sure about situations like this, he was willing to help others.
Davy thought for a minute before giving an answer.
"OK, we'll do it," he said.
Just then, Grandfather came back into the room.
"That was the back, I have 4 days to get the money," he said.
"Grandfather, your troubles are over," said Davy.
"What is it?"
"You'll see."
The Monkees dashed out the door, got into the car and took off.
"Will you excuse me a minute sir?" said Mildew, heading for the basement.

Sometime later, The Monkees were on the road, heading for the village.
"Are we there yet?" Micky asked.
"Micky! What did we tell you about saying that?" said Mike.
"Sorry."
"Where exactly is this village anyway?" Peter wondered.
"As I remember, it's that way," said Davy, making a turn.
As they continued to drive, the car began to sputter, then it stopped.
Mike check the car.
"We're out of gas," he said.
"Now how do we get to the village?" Micky wondered.
"Look's like we have to get there by foot," Mike said.
The guys then began to walk. They walked for sometime, before them came to some forks in the road.
"Now which path do we take?" Mike wondered.
"I say we go this way," Davy said, pointing left.
"I say that way," Micky said pointing right.
"Couldn't we flip a coin and we'll go that way?" Peter asked.
After awhile arguing which way to go, Mike and Micky headed right, while Peter and Davy headed left.

Before separating, they each took some books and a map that they took with them.
As they trailed down the path, Davy and Peter were looking through the books to see if they were going the right way.
"Are you sure were going the right way?" Peter asked.
"According to the book yes," said Davy.
As they, walked they heard a noise.
They stopped in shock.
"Did you hear that?" said Peter feeling scared.
"Yea, it's sounded pretty loud," said Davy.
The noise happened again, and it was louder this time.
"We should we do?" Peter asked.
"I don't know about you, but I'm getting out of here." said Davy running off.
"Good idea, wait for me!"
The two ran down the wooded path as fat as they could.
As they, ran, Peter tripped on something that looked like a rope, and fell into a hole.
Davy was running too fast to look behind him.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the woods, Mike and Micky were checking out where they were going.
"I hope these books are giving the right information." said Micky.
"Same here, I hope we find that treasure soon, said Mike, It can really help Davy's grandfather.”
Just then, the two hear a loud sound.
"What was that?" Micky asked.
"It's was just the wind, I hope," Mike said.
The sound happened again.
"That was not the wind." Micky said.
"Right, let's split!" said Mike.
They ran to get away from whatever it was.
While running, Micky, who was behind, stepped into an animal trap, that was left by a hunter, or someone else. It closed on his ankle.
He let out a yell, but Mike was too far away to hear it.

Davy and Mike ran as fast as they could down their respective paths. Davy's path turned to the right while Mike's path turned to the left. As each of them were going around the bend, they finally looked behind them to see if anything was chasing them. Looking behind themselves, neither of them realized the paths they were had merged together again until they crashed into each other. Davy and Mike crashed to the ground, papers and books flying everywhere. Slowly, the two Monkees sat up and looked at each other.
"Mike!" Davy yelled.
"Davy!" Mike yelled.
They both got to their knees and hugged each other. Together they said, "Am I glad to see you!"
"Wait," Davy said, "Wasn't Micky with you?"
Mike looked behind him, but didn't see Micky.
"Wasn't Peter with you?" Mike asked.
Davy looked behind him, but couldn't see Peter. Both Davy and Mike looked at each other in fear.
"They're gone!" They yelled at each other. The two men grabbed each others arms.
"What are we gonna do?" Davy asked, shaking.
"F..First we have to stay calm." Mike stuttered getting up. He pulled Davy to his feet. "Maybe Micky is investigating that noise we heard."
"You mean a noise like a groan?" Davy asked.
"Yeah. You and Pete hear it too?"
Davy nodded his head. "Scariest thing I'd 'ever 'eard. Lets pick up our stuff. I don't think Peter had any books on him."
"Neither did Micky," Mike replied, he looked at Davy. "Davy, do you think any of this has to do with the treasure map?"
"I don't Mike." Davy said quietly, "But I'll tell you this: There was a full tank of petrol in the tank when we left the airport to come here. We couldn't have used up that much."
Mike and Davy quickly gathered up all the books and papers they had dropped. Davy pulled the treasure map out of his shirt pocket. He didn't want to take the chance of it being lost or stolen.
"At least this is still safe." Davy said to Mike.
"But are Peter and Micky?" Mike replied.

Pete tried for the fiftieth time to scale the sides of the hole he had fallen into. But the hole was simply too deep to jump out of and the ground too soft to get a hand or foothold. On the verge of tears he yelled out.
"DAVY! MIKE! MICKY! ANYBODY! HELP!"
But there was no answer. Peter had hoped Davy would come back for him, but so far nobody had come. He was stuck in a hole who knows how far from the village, and it could be days, if at all, before anybody would come. Peter sat in the middle of the hole and began to cry.
Suddenly, a rope was thrown down one side of the hole. Happily, Peter grabbed the rope and used it to pull himself up to the top. He jumped to his feet.
"Thanks guys," Peter began, "I thought I'd never get out of..."
He stopped in mid-sentence as he got a good look at his rescuers. Peter's rescuers were wearing long, black druid robes with the hoods up, hiding their faces. They surrounded Peter.
"Um, thanks again, but I have to get back to my friends." Peter said quickly, not liking the situation one bit. He suddenly charged off to one side, trying to break through the circle around him, but the druids pounced quickly on him. Within seconds, Peter was bound, gagged, blindfolded and dragged into the surrounding woodland.

Micky sat on the ground and was trying to pry the animal trap off his ankle. Fortunately, it was one of those 'humane' traps without teeth, but it was still painfully tight. He had managed to pry it open a little so he could twist his ankle back and forth. His ankle didn't seem broken, but he'd have a bad bruise on it for a long time. Micky looked up as he heard rustling in the woods next to him. He quickly wished he hadn't.
Coming out of the woods were several people dressed in long, black druid robes with the hoods up to obscure their faces. Micky tried to get up and run, but the trap closed down fully on his ankle again and he yelped in pain. The druids came closer. Two of the druids held out their hands palms out. Micky took this as a sign they meant no harm, so he said nothing as the two silent druids walked over to the animal trap. They quickly pulled the two sides apart while Micky pulled his ankle free. He started to rub his sore ankle.
"Thanks guys, there should be a law against those things." Micky said looking up at the two druids. They simply looked down on him, saying nothing. Micky began to feel uneasy again.
"Hey, don't you guys speak English?" Micky asked with a weak smile.
Suddenly, one of the druids who had removed Micky's trap pointed down at him. Micky suddenly found himself hauled to feet. He put some weight on his sore ankle, and found he could stand on it a little.
"I think my ankle's gonna be OK," Micky said, "So, if you'll excuse me..." He tried to pull away from the druids holding him, but they held on tight.
"Hey, let go of me!" Micky cried.
Instead of letting go, the druids quickly bound, gagged and blindfolded Micky. They started to drag him into the woods, but Micky's ankle gave out and he fell to his knees. The druids simply picked him up and carried a struggling Micky between them on their shoulders.

Davy and Mike walked back along the path Davy and Peter had recently taken. They had seen no sign of either of their friends.
"PETER! MICKY!" The two Monkees cried out, but there was no response.
Suddenly, Davy almost fell into a hole in the road. Mike grabbed Davy's shirt and pulled him back from the edge just in time.
"Whoa, thanks Mike." Davy said, "What's this doin' here?"
"Looks like it was dug not to long ago." Mike replied, looking down. "Look at the claw marks on the sides of the hole. Someone was trying to get out."
"Peter." Both of them said at once.
"So where is he now?" Davy asked, but his only answer was the birds singing in the trees.

Peter and Micky were dragged into the deep woods and to a very old stone cathedral. If the two Monkees didn't have blindfolds on, they would've seen that the cathedral was half torn down and covered in vines. At one time, this was a beautiful testament to the power of God, but King Henry the VIII took care of that. So, the local druid community quietly made it their home.
They were taken up the stairs and through what used to be the main part of the church. Down a flight of steps they went and finally they were taken into a small room. There they were dumped onto chairs and their blindfolds removed. As Micky and Peter's eyes adjusted to the firelight in the room, they looked at each other in shock. Being blindfolded and gagged, neither of them knew the other had been taken prisoner. The room they were in was lit by torches on the wall. The only furniture were the two chairs they were sitting in and a larger chair which looked like a throne. Peter tried to get up, but was pushed down again by someone from behind. More rope was produced and the two Monkees were tightly lashed to their chairs.
Behind them, the door opened and another druid walked in. He wore the usual black robe with the hood up, but his robe had designs embroidered with gold thread. The other druids in the room bowed as he passed. No doubt, this was the druid leader.
The druid leader took his place on the throne and looked at the two prisoners. After a few seconds, he beckoned one of the druids over to him.
"You fool," The druid leader said in an old, scratchy voice, "Neither of them is the one I seek. Did they have any papers or books on them?"'
"No sire." The druid replied.
Micky and Peter looked at each other in shock. They recognized that voice.....
The druid leader waved the other druid away dismissively. He looked again at his prisoners.
"Ah, I see you recognize my voice!" He said evilly. "So you might as well see my face too. Not that you'll live to tell anyone."
The druid leader pulled his hood back onto his shoulders. Micky and Peter looked at him, eyes wide.
The druid leader was Mildew.

Davy and Mike searched the woods up and down, but no sign of either Micky or Peter.
The two then sat on some boulders, to think for a minute.
"This is hopeless, we lost our friends, and it's all my fault! Cried Davy, “Who knows where the heck Peter and Micky can be now."
"No, we dragged you into this," said Mike trying to comfort his friend, "We thought we can help your grandfather."
Davy just looked around his surrounding, when he noticed something on the ground.
He got up from the large rock to take a closer look.
It was the hole that Peter fell in.
"Hey Mike, come take a look what's down here!" Davy called.
Mike got up, and looked to see what was in the hole.
They saw something that looked like a book.
Mike took a rope out his sack, threw in end into the hole, then Davy climbed on while the other end was tied to a tree. Davy grabbed the book, and climbed out of the hole.
"What kind of book is that?" Mike wondered.
"It's the book Peter was holding, I recognize it," said Davy.
"How do you know it's the book."
"It came from my old home, you know."
Mike saw something else on the ground.
"Looks like someone, or something's been here," he said pointing to some tracks.
"Let's follow them, and see where they lead to," said Davy.
The two did just that.
"Hey, I see something!" Davy shouted pointing to some objects up ahead.
They got closer to see that one of the items looked familiar to them.
"It's Micky's camera! He never leaves this behind," said Mike, picking the camera.
"Unless," said Davy.
He stopped for a minute to see that there were more tracks.
Mike and Davy, sadly knew what might have happened to their friends, they were captured.
But by who?

Meanwhile, in the cave where the druids were, Peter and Micky were still tied up, and were placed into the deepest, darkest, and coldest part of the cave.
Peter was trying to stand up, but his ropes were bound tightly.
Micky did to try to stand, but the pressure on his ankle made him fall.
He began to wince in pain.
"I think I injured my ankle worse than I thought." He said with pain in his voice.
Just then, someone came to where the two were imprisoned.
It was one of the druids that captured them.
"I wonder what he wants," Peter whispered into Micky's ear sounding scared.
The druid began to untie them.
"I think they want to see us free," Said Peter sounding a bit happy.
Just then, Mildew appeared.
"What do you want?" Micky asked.
"You boys think you're so smart, don't you?" said Mildew.
"Thank you, said Peter.
"You ruined my plans, I've planed to take that money all for myself!"
"So you're just pretending to be Davy's grandfather's friend, just wait till everyone finds out about your plan," said Micky.
"I want to you to stand up for me."
Micky thought it was weird of Mildew to say something like that in a time like this, but he did as he was told.
He got up on his feet, but his ankle was in so much pain that he fell flat to the ground.
Mildew asked Micky to do it several times, and every time, Micky felt more pain in his ankle.
It was clear that he had something wrong with his leg.
The last time Micky did it, he grabbed on to it, holding back tears of pain.
Mildew, however laughed.
"Leave him alone!" Peter shouted.
"How dare you speak to me like that!" Mildew shouted back.
He motioned the druid, and pointed at Peter.
"Take him with us!" he ordered.
Sure enough, the druid did as Mildew told him.
"Let him go!" Micky yelled as the druids took Peter away.
Peter tried to struggle, but the druids had a hard grip on him.
Micky try to stop them, but when he got up, his ankle was in so much pain he fell down before even getting up.
A few tears trickled down his face.
Micky wasn't sure if they were tears of pain, or worries for his friend.

"Who would take Peter and Micky away?" Mike asked Davy, "What would they want with them?"
Davy took Mike's arm and led him into the shelter of some nearby trees. Mike didn't protest. He suddenly didn't want to be out in the open either. Davy looked at the ground, thinking hard. Who-or what-would be in this area that would kidnap Micky and Peter? Suddenly, the answer came to Davy. He balled his hands into fists.
"Druids." Davy said very quietly, still looking at the ground.
"What?" Mike asked.
Davy closed his eyes. "Druids, Mike. An ancient religious cult that worshipped the sun, moon and stars. Grandfather often told me stories how they would kidnap unwary travelers and...." Davy paused, not wanting to go on.
Mike didn't want to know the rest, but he had to. "And did what Davy?" He said, putting a hand on Davy's shoulder.
Davy looked up at Mike, tears in his eyes.
"They sacrificed them to their Gods."

Peter was taken to another room and his shirt was taken from him. Then he was tied spread-eagle to a large wooden table.
"What are you going to do to me?" Peter asked, very scared.
"We're going to get you ready for our very special ceremony tonight." Mildew replied.
"What ceremony?" Peter asked.
"Why the summer solstice, of course, the longest day of the year." Mildew replied. "When the Moon Goddess finally rises between the ancient stones, we must present her with a offering to make sure she will bestow her blessing on us for another year."
Peter had followed various mystical religions at one time or another, but what Mildew was saying was crazy, even for him.
"You...you really believe that?" Peter asked.
"Oh, yes, for many years." Mildew replied, "When you and your friends showed up, I decided to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. I'd get rid of you interfering children and" Mildew paused, smiling evilly, "Provide the Moon Goddess with a sacrifice."
Peter's mouth fell open in terror. It now dawned on him that HE was to be the sacrifice!
Mildew continued, oblivious to Peter's terror, "So, I siphoned off enough petrol out of your car, so that it would stall in our territory, and now you're here. Soon I'll get your other two friends and Jones' fortune will be mine!" Mildew turned to leave, then turned back to Peter.
"The fates must not like you, Peter. If Micky hadn't hurt his ankle, I would've chosen him because of his curly hair. But the Goddess demands an unblemished sacrifice, so now its you."
"No, please don't kill me!" Peter begged, finding his voice.
But Mildew simply turned away and walked out the door, ignoring Peter's cries for mercy.
Two druids walked over to Peter carrying small jars and brushes. Without a word, they dipped the brushes into the jars, then started to paint designs on Peter's bare chest. Peter cried and begged the two druids to let him go, but they ignored him and continued to brush the blue paint on his body.

Mike looked at Davy as if he'd grown an extra head.
"Human sacrifice?" Mike repeated, "I thought that went out with the Aztecs in the 1500's!"
"Keep your voice down, Mike." Davy scolded. "Unfortunately human sacrifice is alive and well in some druid communities, even today. This area was particularly heavy in the cult."
"Yeah but didn't the Romans and later Christianity get rid of them?" Mike asked.
"Yes for the most part." Davy replied, "But some groups simply went underground. Grandfather often warned me not to venture into these woods by myself, but I thought he was being silly."
"So, lets go to the police and report that Micky and Peter..."
"Were kidnapped by Druids?" Davy interrupted with a bitter laugh, "Even if we weren't laughed out of the station house, it has to be 24 hours before they could do something. By then it will be too late."
Mike didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean by too late, Davy?"
"What's today's date?" Davy asked.
"June 21st." Mike replied, "Why?"
"June 21st and December 21st are the Druids' most special days. The longest and shortest days of the year." Davy choked back the tears that suddenly came to him. "Those are the days they supposedly sacrifice!"
"Ohhh man." Mike breathed. "It looks like your grandfather's treasure is going to have to wait, Davy. He still has four days and Micky and Peter have..." Mike looked at his watch. "Maybe six hours until dark."
Davy nodded and the two started to follow the trail.

Mildew walked along the halls of the old church where the druids had their headquarters. Walking slightly behind him was his aide, Jerkington.
"Any sign of the other two boys?" Mildew asked his aide.
"No, sire. We are looking all over the area, but can't find them. They might've gone into the village."
"No, our people in the village would've reported it by now." Mildew growled. He stopped and turned to his aide.
"I want those two found. I want Jones' grandson especially, alive and unharmed. He can tell us some family lore about where the treasure may be hidden."
"Yes, sire." Jerkington bowed.
"I'm going to pay another visit to our other prisoner, then go back and play butler to that fool Jones." Mildew continued, "I'll be back before the ceremony tonight; and I want some results from the search."
Jerkington bowed again. "We'll find them sire."
Mildew turned away and strode downstairs and over to the storage room where Micky was being kept. He opened the door and walked in...
And was hit in the knees with a stick.
Mildew yelled and fell to the floor, clutching his knees. He looked up to see Micky, a smile on his face, standing behind the door, standing on his good foot with his back against the wall to support himself. Micky had been left untied after the druids had taken Peter away. He used his freedom to crawl around and find the stick he just used on Mildew. Now Micky was using the stick as a cane to support himself as he lurched out the door.
"Guards!" Mildew shouted, "The prisoner is escaping!"
But being in the room muffled his shout and no one heard him. Mildew pulled himself painfully to his feet and made his way to the door. Micky was already at the foot of the stairs.
"Guards!" Mildew yelled again.
This time the druids heard him and started coming down the stairs toward Micky. Once again, Micky smacked the closet druid in the knees and he fell down the stairs, taking a few other druids with him. More druids surrounded Micky on the stairs. Micky swung his stick at them to keep them at bay.
"Get away from me!" Micky shouted.
But one druid was faster than the others and grabbed Micky's stick in mid-swing. The druid pulled the stick out of Micky's hand. Defenseless, Micky was quickly overpowered. Mildew limped over to the struggling Monkee. He took the stick out of the druid's hand and smacked Micky's injured ankle. Micky screamed.
"You dared to hit me?!" Mildew demanded. "You dare try escape from us?!"
Mildew turned to the druids. "Put him in the same room with the other, and make sure he's tied up this time. Especially his ankles." Mildew grinned wickedly. "I must return to the Jones mansion."
Micky was dragged away and brought to the same room where Peter was still tied to the table. The druids that had been painting him had gone. Peter's chest and stomach were covered in weird designs. Micky looked at his friend in shock.
"Peter! What are they doing to you?" Micky demanded.
Peter looked over at Micky, but was so scared over what was going to happen to him, he couldn't speak. The druids, meanwhile, tied Micky's hands above his head to a vertical wooden ceiling support, then tightly tied his ankles together and then to the support as well. He cried out in pain, and begged the druids to loosen his ankles, but they ignored him and left Micky and Peter alone.
"Micky!" Peter cried softly.
"What, Pete?" Micky replied, trying to ignore the pain in his ankle.
"They're gonna kill me tonight! I'm gonna be a sacrifice to their Moon goddess!" Peter cried out in despair.
"Tell me you're kidding, Pete." Micky replied.
But Peter simply started sobbing in reply.
"Davy and Mike will find us." Micky said to his friend. "They'll bring help."
I hope, Micky thought to himself.

Sometime later, Mildew and Jerkington return to the room were Micky and Peter were being kept as prisoners.
Mildew went up to Peter.
"You know, all that worrying will make you too weak to sacrifice," he said with a wicked grin.
"Leave him alone!" Micky shouted.
Mildew motioned to Jerkington, and he tightened the ropes on Micky's ankles, which made him wince in pain.
The two druids then began to laugh really hard.
"It was wasn't funny!" Peter spoke up.
"Silence!" Mildew yelled.
Peter and Micky kept still, and were afraid to make any moves.
"You think your friends are gonna save you, don't you? Oh they, will," said Mildew.
Peter began to smile.
"But when they come, that's when the fun will begin." Mildew continued.
Peter's smile began to fade.
Mildew then call Jerkington over.
"Come, we must prepare this one for the sacrifice," Mildew said, indicating Peter.
"What about this one?" Jerkington asked, pointed to Micky.
"Toss him back into the dungeon, with all those bonds, it will be impossible to escape again. But first untie him, make him walk to the dungeon, then tie him back up.”
"Why?" Peter asked.
"To watch him suffer!"
Mildew and Jerkington laughed again and began to untie Micky.
When they did, he got up, and tried to race out of the cave, using his good leg.
"Stop him!" Mildew shouted.
Despite an injured ankle, and having being chased by dozens of druids, Micky managed to escape the cave.
After sometime running, this time with both legs to move faster (no matter how much pain he was in), Micky turned to see that he was alone.
"I think I lost them." he said.
But Micky had nothing to smile about, because he felt guilty about leaving Peter behind, and that his ankle was bothering worse then before.
In fact the pain was so bad, Micky collapsed to the ground.

Meanwhile, someone was coming up through the woods.
It was Davy and Mike.
They noticed something up ahead. They went up to whatever it was to get a closer look.
"Micky!" they cried.
Micky opened his eyes, he was happy to see his friends.
"You OK there shotgun?" Mike asked.
"Except for my ankle," Micky answered in a weak voice.
"Which one?" Davy asked.
"The left."
Davy touched it carefully, but it still gave Micky a lot of pain.
"Ouch! OW!" he winced.
"Man, we gotta get you to a doctor!" Mike said.
"Not before we save Peter."
"Where is he?" Davy asked.
Micky began to tell the guys everything.

Mildew watched the druids come back to the entrance of the ruined cathedral. Micky was not with them. The druids stopped at the enraged sight of their leader.
"Did you find him or his friends?" Mildew asked angrily.
"No sire." One of the druids replied, head bowed.
"You couldn't catch one man with an injured ankle?" Mildew spat.
The druids were silent. Barely keeping his rage in check, Mildew said, "Get the holy site pure for the ceremony. Some of you come with me, to get the sacrifice ready."
"Yes sire." The druids replied.
Several druids went off into the woods to make sure the site was clean of debris and to perform the cleansing rituals. Others followed Mildew inside to where Peter was still bound.

Despite his fear, Peter couldn't help but smile that Micky had escaped. Jerkington, standing guard over Peter, saw that smile and was about to smack Peter across the face when Peter stopped him.
"Ah ah ah!" Peter chided. "You need an unblemished sacrifice for your Moon Goddess. If you hit me, you might leave a mark!"
Jerkington scowled, then grabbed Peter's chin, forcing Peter to look up at him.
"We'll see how smart you are when our leader puts a knife in your heart and your blood drips down the altar stones."
"Micky will find the others and tell them about you!" Peter said defiantly, "He's probably at the police station right now!"
"Wrong!" Mildew shouted as he came into the room followed by several druids. The druids were carrying smoking bowls of incense. The formed a circle around Peter's table.
"Micky is probably food for the wolves right now!" Mildew lied, "We hunted him down like an animal and killed him!" Mildew gave Jerkington a quick wink, which Jerkington saw but Peter didn't.
"NO! NO!" Peter screamed, "You didn't! That's murder!"
"No, we simply gave a small gift to Gaia, the Earth Goddess." Mildew replied with a sick smile.
Peter pulled on his bonds. If he had gotten free, he wouldn't have hesitated to strangle Mildew, regardless of the consequences. The ropes held him down, though, and all Peter could do was sob uncontrollably. Mildew smirked at Peter. He loved to watch people suffer. But right now the Moon Goddess must not be kept waiting. It would soon be dusk. Mildew held out his hand. A druid placed a drug-soaked cloth in his hand. Mildew quickly walked over to Peter and put the cloth over his mouth and nose. Taken by surprise, Peter couldn't resist, and soon he was asleep.
Mildew handed the cloth back to a druid, then went to the head of the table. He raised his hands.
"Oh Luna, Goddess of the Moon, we prepare this offering to you as a sign of our devotion to your power...."
Mildew droned on and on, saying the prayers and sprinkling powder on Peter's unconscious form, while the druids around him sang the replies.

In the woods, Mike was wrapping Micky's ankle in a make shift splint. He used tree branches and the sleeves he had torn off his shirt. Davy stood nearby, keeping a lookout for any druids. Soon, Mike was done. Micky looked down in admiration.
"That feels good, Mike." Micky said, "Where'd you learn to do that?"
"Boy scouts." Mike replied, helping Micky to stand. He then handed Micky a longer tree branch to use as a crutch. Micky took a few delicate steps. His ankle still throbbed, but at least he could put more weight on it.
"Which way, Micky?" Mike asked.
"I came from that direction." Micky said pointing, "Like I said, they're in an old abandoned church, but I don't know where they would sacrifice Peter."
"Most likely in a circle of stones," Davy replied, walking over to his friends, "Like Stonehenge, where the sun and moon would shine through certain places during the various solstices."
Both Micky and Mike noticed the dark, somber look on Davy's face. Knowing Mildew's true nature shocked Davy deeply. He had his suspicions when the car ran out of gas, but Davy had hoped he was wrong. Davy couldn't believe the same man who took him horseback riding as a child was a sadist. A pagan. A man who had purposely hurt one of his best mates and was now going to murder another. Davy felt betrayed. And very angry.
Micky put a hand on Davy's shoulder.
"We'll rescue Peter, Davy. And get Mildew." He said quietly.
Davy nodded his head. "I know we will, Mick." Davy said seriously, patting his shirt pocket where he had the treasure map. "I have something he wants. Lead the way."
Micky turned and led the others back the way he had come.

The preparations over, the druids untied the unconscious Peter and placed him on a pallet. It was becoming dusk. Soon the moon would be rising. The druids carried Peter out of the cathedral and out into the woods. They were met by other druids carrying torches. These druids turned around and led the procession to a nearby circle of stones. It surrounded by deep woods, where no outsiders would hear or see anything. Some of the stones were several feet high, but others were much shorter. In the exact center was a simple stone altar. It was here that the druids carrying Peter stopped. They picked him up and gently placed him on the altar, being careful not to smudge the marks on his chest and stomach.
The cold stone made Peter stir from his sleep. But before he was completely awake, the druids quickly tied Peter's wrists and ankles to the four corners of the altar. Peter became fully awake as they finished tying him. It took Peter a few seconds to realize what was going on, but when he did, he once again began cry and pull at his bonds.
"NO, please don't do this!" Peter yelled, "Help! Somebody help me!"
Mildew came up to him and laughed in his face.
"Scream all you want, boy, nobody can hear you!" Mildew walked back over to the other druids.
The circle was filling up with dozens of black-robed druids, many of them carrying torches. Several of the druids were from other areas, since this was an important night, and for the first time in years, a human was being sacrificed.

In the gathering gloom, Micky, Mike and Davy made their way over to the cathedral. Making sure they were well hidden, the three watched other robed druids come past and walk into the woods.
"That must be the way to the ceremony." Mike whispered.
"Yeah," Davy replied, "Now are we clear on what we're gonna do?"
Mike and Micky nodded their heads. They had to do this for Peter's sake. Soon, three more black-robed druids, one carrying a torch, walked past the Monkees. Quickly leaving their hiding place, Davy and Mike came behind the three and quickly hit them on their heads with the heavy books they had with them. The druids fell to the ground. Micky had wanted to help, but he was still a little too slow with his bad ankle. Still, he helped drag the three druids into the trees. Then the three men took the robes off the druids and put them on. Davy's robe dragged on the ground a little, but nothing could be done about it now. It was quickly getting dark. The three put up their hoods and Davy picked up the burning torch. They started to walk the way the druids had gone. Micky hid his stick in his robe and tried not to limp too much. Soon they heard chanting and knew they were on the right track.

Mildew watched the eastern sky with great interest. Soon the moon would come up between two of the largest stones and night would begin. That was when Luna would be hungry and demand food. Mildew would give it to her.
Behind him, Peter was still crying, and Mildew was tired of it.
"Gag him!" Mildew demanded, "He disrupts the sacred chanting."
Two druids rushed over to Peter and tied a cloth across his mouth. He could now only plead for mercy with his eyes, mercy that nobody here would give. Peter despaired. Micky was dead and there was no way to know where Mike and Davy were. He was so afraid.

Micky, Mike and Davy made their way into the crowd of druids inside the circle. Mike, being the tallest, was able to catch a glimpse of Peter tied to the altar. His mouth went dry. These people were really going to commit murder!
Suddenly, Mildew stepped over to the altar and raised his hands. The chanting stopped. He turned to the east. The moon was just beginning to show over the horizon, right between the two largest stones. The light from the moon shown right on Peter. Mildew smiled happily. Luna wanted her food, so who was Mildew to deny her?
"Great Goddess Luna!" Mildew shouted, "Behold our offering to you! Accept this sacrifice and bestow upon us your blessings!"
A druid approached Mildew with a small tray. On it was an ornate silver knife. Mildew picked the knife up reverently. It was very sharp. Peter stared at the knife in terror.
Mildew brought the knife up.....
"STOP!" Three angry voices broke the silence.
Mildew spun around and found himself confronted by three druids. The druids pulled their hoods down to reveal Micky, Mike and Davy. Peter eyes went wide in shock. Micky was alive! Mike and Davy were here too! He wanted to call out to his friends, but the gag stopped him.
"So, you've found our little hideaway." Mildew snarled, "You three will pay for disrupting our ceremony!"
"I don't think so, Mildew." Davy replied angrily, "You see, I have want you want." Davy pulled a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket. "How odd that a druid would be interested in wealth."
"The treasure map?" Mildew gasped.
The three Monkees smiled smugly. Davy suddenly held the paper next to the torch he was carrying.
"Let our friend go, or the map goes up in smoke!" Davy said.
"NO!" Mildew shouted, "Luna needs her sacrifice!"
"Why don't YOU sacrifice yourself?" Mike retorted, "But its easier to commit murder isn't it?"
"So which is it, Mold," Micky asked, purposely calling Mildew the wrong name. "Satisfy your Goddess or your earthly greed?"
Suddenly Mildew smiled. "I think I'll do both."
Without warning a net fell down on Micky, Mike and Davy. They were knocked to the ground. The druids quickly wrapped them up tight inside the net, so they couldn't move. Mildew laughed evilly and looked over at a horrified Peter.
"Didn't I tell you earlier that when your friends come the fun will begin?" Mildew asked. He looked down at the other Monkees.
"Oh, yes, lots of fun. Take them all back to the church. We'll continue the ceremony there."
The druids picked up Micky, Mike and Davy, still bound up in the net, and carried them away. Other druids untied Peter and dragged him away too. Peter had only won a temporary reprieve, and the Monkees knew it.

Mike, Micky and Davy were still caught in the net, when Jerkington, accompanied with Mildew, returned to the room.
"What do you want?" Mike said to Mildew in angry tone of voice.
"I just want you to know that the ceremony will happen soon," said Mildew.
"Where's Peter? What have you done with him!" asked Davy with a tone as same as Mike's
"Oh, we're getting him ready for the festivities." laughed Jerkington.
The two then walked away, still laughing.
Mike noticed Micky had an uncomfortable look on his face.
"Micky, is it your ankle again?" Mike asked.
Micky was in so much pain from the position his leg was in that all he can only get a whisper of yes out of his mouth. Just then, Davy thought of something.
He grabbed something out of bag, it turned out to be a knife that was lying on the druids meeting table.
Davy managed to get the knife before they got captured, and kept it for an emergency, and this was really an emergency.
He cut the net, and the guys were free. Mike and Davy got up and began their search, where they turned to see Micky was almost crawling on his hands and knees.
"Go on without me, I'll only slow you down." He said, for his crutch had been taken away from him.
Mike and Davy then careful picked up Micky, and each put an arm over their shoulders for support.
"We're not about to lose another friend." said Mike.
The three then went off on their search for Peter. Hopefully, they were not too late.

Meanwhile, in the other side of the church, Mildew and the other druids had changed into black robes, from their brown ones, and had masks over their face.
Peter was placed on a table, and had paint on his face and forearms.
"Just wait till my friends get here," said Peter, struggling with the ropes tied to his wrists and legs.
"Oh, I doubt they'll escape, but if they do, by the time they get here, it will be too late," Mildew said with a very evil laugh.
"Guess again." said a voice.
Mildew, the druids, and Peter turned to see that Mike, Micky and Davy were standing at the doorway.
"How did you escape!" Mildew said.
Davy showed off the knife.
"Give that back! After them!"
The druids then began to charge at the guys.
The guys moved out of the way, and the druids hit a wall.
"Stop them, you fools!" commanded Mildew.
They turned to where Peter was placed only to see that he was gone.
It turns out in all the commotion with Mildew's yelling and the druids, the guys managed to free Peter.
"Stop them! Don't let them get away!"
By then, all four Monkees where racing down the hall, though Micky was still being supported by the others.
As they ran, they felt the floor began to shake.
"Is it an earthquake?" Peter asked, starting to get nervous.
"Peter, there are no earthquakes in England, at least to my knowledge.”
Just then, the floor began to break apart and it collapsed with the guys still standing on it.
They tried to move, but it was too late, for the floor broke, and the guys fell to the basement of the church.
"Is everyone OK?" Mike asked looking around for his friends.
"I'm all right, said Davy “Luckily this pile of coins broke my fall.”
"Yea, same here," said Peter.
"What, did you guys say pile of coins?" Mike asked in curiosity.
Peter and Davy both nodded their heads.
Mike looked to see that they were right.
"You know, I think this is my grandfather's lost treasure.”
"I bet it is," said Mike looking at all the coins.
Just then something hit them. They were so interested in the coins, they forgot about Micky.
"Micky, where are you, you OK?" Mike called.
They found Micky on the ground, and saw that his ankle looked very twisted.
"That fall must have made you leg worse." said Davy.
"Plus all that running," Micky said, gritted his teeth through the pain.
"Don't worry, as soon as we get out of here we're get you to a doctor," said Peter, trying to comfort his friend.
He smiled for Micky to keep brave, Micky gave a small smile too, despite his pain.
All the somberness was interrupted by the sound of footsteps heading towards them.

The sound of the footprints got louder and louder, getting closer to The Monkees.
The guys tried to help Micky to his feet, so they can get out of the basement, but he was too sore to move.
"How bad is the pain?" Mike asked.
"It's shooting into my foot," Micky moaned.
"Can you move your foot?" Peter asked.
"I can't even wiggle my toes it hurts so much."
The sound of the druids coming grew louder.
"I think we better get a move on right now!" said Davy.
Just then, Peter noticed something on the side of the wall.
"Look a door! We can escape through there!" He said.
The guys did just that.
"Wait, what about the treasure?"
"Man, our lives our at stake! This is more important!" said Mike.
They got out just in time, before the druids came to find them.
"After them!" Mildew shouted to the other druids.
They got out through the main door of the church.

Meanwhile, with Micky leaning on Mike and Peter for support, Davy led the way, as they ran to get away from the druids. It was night, and really dark, so it was hard to see anything.
It was good for the guys, because it will be impossible for the druids to chase, or even see them.
They were wrong, the druids were behind them, carrying lit torches. And soon enough, they encircled the Monkees.
"We're trapped!" Peter cried.
"What are we gonna do?" Davy wondered.
"I don't know fellas, I just don't know." said Mike.
All of a sudden, there came a loud, piercing siren sound.
And it was coming closer.
It turned out to be police cars, and several British officers stepped out of the cars.
"All right, you're under arrest, kidnapping, attempted murder, and assault." the chief police said to Mildew.
"But, how, who did this? Was it one of you?!" He shouted to The Monkees and the other druids.
"It was me." said a voice.
Davy's grandfather appeared into the crowd.
"Grandfather! But how did you know?" Davy asked.
"I knew for years, I put Mildew as an alternate in my will, and my guess is, he wanted to get rid of you and get my treasure somehow. And he would do anything to anyone who got in the way."
"And I would have kept the treasure for myself, if these trouble makers were out of the way!" said Mildew.
"Grandfather, we found the treasure!" said Davy.
"You did?" Grandfather said in a surprise voice.
Davy led everyone to the basement, where the treasure was kept. The police and Grandfather couldn’t believe their eyes.
"Well, you boys found the lost treasure of the family Jones," Davy's grandfather said with a laugh.
"Wait a minute, how do we know this is Davy's family treasure?”
Peter saw a plaque on the wall.
"It says according to this plaque, this treasure is belongs to the Jones family, founded by Philip Jones, 1546." he read.
"That's was one of our lost relatives," said Grandfather.
A bobby called for back-up, a few more cars came.
Mildew and his druids were arrested for their crimes and headed for prison. Grandfather was taken home, with the treasure. Davy went with him, while Mike and Peter got in another car that was going give Micky a ride to the hospital.
It turned out, he had a fracture in his ankle, as well as some bruises, but the doctor said he'll be fine with some rest.
Micky's lower leg was bandaged up and he was given crutches.

Later that evening, the four Monkees and grandfather were seated in the study.
"I can't thank you boys enough for all you did." said grandfather.
"It was nothing, grandfather," said Davy, trying to sound modest.
"Saving your grandfather's fortune and find a family past is something." said Mike.
"This has been quite an adventure." said Peter.
Davy's grandfather looked up at the clock.
"My, with all this excitement, I lost track of time.”
He said goodnight and headed upstairs to his room.
"You know, I can use some shut eye myself," said Davy.
"Yeah, same here.” said Micky, whose leg was stretched out on a chair.
The guys headed out of the room, but Micky had to grab his crutches.
"Hey, wait up for the injured one!" he called out.
The others laughed.

A few days later, the guys were back home doing their usually routine. Mike then came in with the mail.
"Mail call!" he shouted.
Davy and Peter got up from a checker game they were playing, and Micky carefully got up from a chair he was sitting on while watching some TV. He didn't have a cast or crutches, but was using a cane for support.
"Davy, you got something from your grandfather." Mike said, handing Davy a letter.
Davy opened it.
"What does it say?" Micky asked.
"It says it is the family treasure, and he can keep the house." Davy said with a smile, which made the others smile too.
He continued to read, "In fact, he's got too much money, so he donated it to the old church to fix it up. ‘Enclosed is something for all you've done.’"
Davy took a check out.
The guys looked at it.
It was for 50 pounds.
"Man, that's a lot of money!" said a very shocked Mike.
"Actually it's not a lot," said Davy.
"How much is that in American money?" Peter asked.
"About 25 dollars."
"Then again, it's not so much money," said Micky.
The guys just laughed.
As long as the guys were willing to help someone in need, the money didn't seem so important to them.

The End

"Hey, Hey We're The Beatles?"

BY:  Mickys411 and Larrysgirl   Rated PG

Late one night, the Monkees were returning home from their last night performing at the Coconut Club.
"Boy that was some night." said Mike, pulling into the driveway.
"Yeah, two encores, what a show." said Micky.
Although the guys enjoyed performing, they were bushed from the long concert.
"You know, I'm so tired, I feel like I can fall asleep right now." said Davy, stretching his arms.
"Me too, I'm sleepy." said Peter yawning.
The guys got out of the car, collected their instruments and headed for the front door.
Mike, who was standing the closest to it tried to open the door, but the knob wouldn't turn.
"What's wrong?" Davy asked.
"Door's stuck." said Mike.
"Let me try."
Davy tried the knob as well, but nothing happened.
Micky shook his head and said, "You're turning it the wrong way."
He turned the knob the other way, but it was still stuck.
"How we gonna get in?" Peter asked.
"Maybe if we have a running start," Mike said.
"Uh?"
"Follow me."
The guys went back to the car.
"All right, on the count of three, we'll ram the door down."
"I'm not sure it that's a good idea." said Peter.
"Why's that?" Micky asked.
"The door will break down.”
Mike rolled his eyes, but continued.
"Ready?" Mike asked the other Monkees.
They gave yes nods with their heads.

"One, two, three go!"
The guys raced from the car to the door.
When they did, the door did open as well as fall to the ground, along with the four Monkees.

Unfortunately, Davy was at the bottom of the pile.
"Will you please get off of me?" He called from under the guys.
The guys got up off the ground.
However, when they did, the guys saw something or someone in the kitchen.
"Guys I'm scared." whimpered Peter.
Despite a shaking hand, Mike turned on a light, since he was standing next to the lamp.
When he did, the bright light shown, The Monkees and who ever was there let out five loud yells.
When everyone calmed down, the guys got a better look to see what the figure was.
It turned out to be a man, around the same age as the guys.
He was around 5'7, with a mop top hair cut, a big nose and was wearing blue pjs.
"Hey why did you scream?" asked the man in the blue pjs in a British accent, but not similar to Davy's.
"We screamed because you screamed,” said Mike, “Which brings up another question, what are you doing in our house?"
"We live here." answered the man.
"We?" the Monkees said altogether.
Just then, the bedroom door opened from upstairs. Someone came out and walked down the steps. He had the same haircut as the man in the blue pjs, except lighter, and was wearing brown pjs with Buddy Holly type glasses on his face. He also had a book in his hand.
"Hey Ringo, I though you just came down here to get some water, now I see you're having a party." said the man in the brown pjs who had a British accent as well.
"I'm not having a party John, these guys say they live here." said Ringo, indicating the Monkees.
"But we do live here." said Davy.
"No you don't, we do." said John.
Just then, two more people came out of the bedroom.
Both with the same haircuts as John and Ringo, one was wearing green pjs, while the other one was wearing white ones. They too spoke with British accents
"What's going on down here?" asked the man in the green pjs.
"Are you guys having a party and didn't invite us?" asked the man in the white pjs.
"It's no party, theses clowns think they live here." said John, pointing to the Monkees.
"But we do live here." said Peter.
"And we're not clowns, we're Monkees." said Micky.
"Oh, a chimp act." Said the man in the white pjs.
"I don't think they look like chimps, Paul." said the man in the green pjs.
"Have you ever seen a chimp act before George?" said Paul.
George shook his head.
"We're the kind of chimps, er… Monkees that sing," said Peter.
"Enough about who's a chimp, monkey or any primate act," said Mike.
"Actually, we're the Beatles," said Ringo.
"Quite! What I want to know is, how did you guys get in to our pad?” Asked Davy.
"Some nice bloke sold it to use," said Paul.
"Nice bloke er…person?" asked Mike.
"Yeah, just this evening," said George.
"Who sold you this place?" Micky asked.
"I know it started with a B," said Ringo.
"Babbit?" the Monkees said altogether.
"Yes, Babbit, told us the previous guys moved out." said John.
"No we didn't ," said Davy.
"Come on fellas, let's go straighten this out with Babbit." said Mike.
"You can't do that." said George.
"Why not?" asked Peter.
"He said he was going out for the night." said Ringo.
"That means we can't see Babbit till morning," said Micky.
"What are we gonna do till then?" wondered Peter.
"Why don't you guys stay for the night?" asked Paul.
"We can? Thank you." Said Mike.
"That's Paul for you, a real softy," said George.
"If you look up that word in the dictionary, you can see Paul's picture.”
Peter picked up the dictionary from the book shelf, looked up the word, and sure enough there was a picture of Paul.
"By golly you're right," he said.
Well come on guys, let's go to bed." yawned Mike heading up the stairs, followed by the other Monkees.
The Beatles the stopped them.
"Where do you think you're going?" asked Ringo.
"To bed, you said we can stay for the night." said Peter.
"We meant down here." said John, indicating the living room.
The Monkees got back into the living room, while the Beatles headed up the stairs, back to the bedroom.
So, the guys spend the night down stairs. Mike slept on the couch, Peter took the lounger, Davy got the chair, and Micky slept on the hammock.
Actually, he tried to get to sleep, but he kept falling out of it.

The Monkees woke up to the smell of bacon frying on the stove. Davy slowly got up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He gently poked Peter.
"Hey Pete." Davy said, "Time to get up."
Peter yawned and looked at his watch.
"Boy! I thought I was an early riser!" He remarked. He slowly got up (being a little stiff from sleeping on the lounger) and went over to Mike. He was snoring softly.
"Mike? Mike?" Peter asked. He finally cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled. "MIKE!"
Mike jumped a foot off the couch and glared at Peter.
"Don't do that!" Mike snarled. He looked over at the hammock, expecting to find Micky, but he wasn't there.
"Where's Micky?" Mike asked.
Davy and Peter looked around, but didn't see Micky. They then smelled coffee, and made a bee-line over to the kitchen. Mike, Peter and Davy found Ringo bent over a frying pan filled with bacon and eggs.
"Good mornin' lads." Ringo said. "Fancy some breakfast before seeing your landlord?"
"You bet!" The three Monkees replied. They quickly set the table and sat down.
"You're up early." Peter remarked to Ringo.
"Couldn't sleep." Ringo replied. "I guess it’s because I'm in a new place."
"I hope we get this straightened out right away." Mike said, "I know we often have trouble making the rent, but this is a new low for Babbit."
Paul, still wearing his PJ's, came down the hurricane stairs.
"Mornin' all!" Paul said. "Sleep well?"
"I did." Mike said, then looked at Peter, "Until I was woken up."
"I didn't" Davy said, rubbing his neck.
"I didn't either." Peter replied. His back was sore.
"Aren't there four of you?" Paul asked, sitting down at the table.
"Yeah, but we can't find Micky." Peter replied.
The three Monkees and two Beatles suddenly heard a snoring sound. It was coming from the bandstand.
Davy walked over to the bandstand. He found Micky lying behind his drum kit, wrapped in a blanket. Davy chuckled and went back to the table.
"He's sleeping behind his drum kit." Davy laughed.
"Guess the hammock finally won." Mike said, smiling.
"Here's breakfast." Ringo said and with a flourish, presented a big plate of bacon and eggs. The four men dug into the food.
"Hey! Leave some for me!" Ringo exclaimed.
"Be thankful Micky's asleep." Davy said, "Otherwise, this would be gone by now."
Everybody chuckled at that. George, then John, came out of the bedroom and down the steps.
"Good morning!" George said happily. John still looked half-asleep.
"Good morning!" Everybody said. Ringo went back to cook some more bacon and eggs.
Micky finally woke up and charged over to the table.
"Food!" He exclaimed.
"Morning, Micky." Peter said.
"Mornin' everybody." Micky replied, "Can I have some?"
"Nope." Mike said, "Not enough chairs."
Micky simply shrugged and sat on Mike's lap. Everybody bust out laughing at that, except Mike who pushed Micky away.
"You can sit here, Mick." Davy said, "I'm done." He picked up his plate and put it into the sink.
Micky sat down and began to devour the food.
"Better hurry Ringo." Davy called out. "Micky looks ready to eat the plates!"
Ringo brought out another plate of bacon and eggs and sat down in the chair Peter had just vacated. Soon everybody had their fill and the dishes were washed.
"We'll be back soon." Mike promised.
With that, the Monkees marched over to Babbit's house to confront their tricky landlord.

The four Monkees walked over to Babbit's house. They were pretty mad over the way they had been treated. Yet something just wasn't right about all this. Sure, more often than not they were late with the rent, but by law, Babbit had to give them thirty days to leave. If he did this because he didn't like their long hair or music, why sell the pad to four other long-haired weirdoes? The Monkees arrived at Babbit's house and Mike knocked on the door. They stood impatiently waiting for their landlord to open up. After almost a minute, there was still no answer. Mike knocked a second time.
"Maybe Babbit went out again." Davy said.
"No, his car is here." Micky replied, "He just doesn't want to deal with us."
"Mr. Babbit!" Mike called out, "Open up! We know you're in there! We want to talk to you!"
Suddenly the window on the second floor above them opened up and Babbit stuck his head out.
"What do you boys want?" He demanded.
"We want to know why you sold our pad to someone else!" Mike demanded as well.
"What are you talking about?" Babbit asked, "I never saw the four of you in my life!"
"What?!" Peter exclaimed, "I'm Peter and this is Mike and..."
"I don't care who you four long haired," Babbit paused, "MONKEYS say you are!" Babbit put in harshly, "I don't know you! So why don't you....Monkeys," Again Babbit put emphasis on 'Monkeys', "leave before I call the zoo!"
With that, Babbit stuck his head back inside the window and slammed it shut, leaving the four men looking up, gaping.
"But Mr. Babbit!" Micky shouted up.
Suddenly the window opened again and a bucket of water came splashing down, soaking them. The window slammed shut once more. The Monkees quickly walked away before something else came flying down at them. They stopped a little ways down the street. Peter started to cry.
"Don't cry, Pete." Mike said, ringing the water out of his wool cap, "Something's not right here. Didn't Babbit seem a little nervous?"
"Hmmmm. Now that you mention it," Davy replied, "He did seem a little scared. Kept using the word 'Monkey'."
"Lets get back to the pad and dry off." Micky said, "Maybe the Beatles can give us some advice, or a clue as to why Babbit's acting so strange."
The four made haste back to their pad and walked back inside. In the living room were the four Beatles. John was reading a book, George and Paul were tuning their guitars while Ringo sat at the drum kit. They looked up as the Monkees walked inside.
"Don't you believe in knocking?" George asked, then noticed the wet clothes the Monkees wore. He smiled. "I take it your talk with Babbit didn't go well."
"Gee, how'd you guess?" Micky asked sarcastically, "He even claimed he didn't know us."
"Maybe he doesn't." John said getting up.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Mike asked.
"Well, you four haven't really proved you live here." Paul said, also standing up and walking over to John. "How do we know the four of you are telling the truth?"
"Why would we lie?" Peter asked.
"To get a nice little beach house." Ringo said as he and George joined John and Paul. "Sorry, mates, but if you can't prove you live here...out you go."
The four Monkees and the four Beatles stood in two lines facing each other. The Monkees looked at each other. How could they convince the Beatles they lived here and that something funny was going on with Babbit?

"I thought you said the house you sold to those four musicians was empty." Louie said to Babbit as he put his gun back in his holster and started to tie Babbit to a chair.
"It was! It was! I swear!" Babbit exclaimed frantically, looking at the four figures gathered around him. In addition to Louie, there was two other guys, Huey and Duey, plus an older Lady the others called "The Big Man". She was the widow of their former boss, and took over his operations, until she went to jail. With narrowed eyes she watched as the Monkees left the house.
"Then how did they know your name?" Huey asked menacingly.
"They saw it on my mailbox?" Babbit ventured.
"I dunno." Duey replied, rubbing his chin.
"I dunno either." The Big Man said, turning from the window. "I think I recognized those boys. They stumbled onto our hideout in a ghost town last year and called the cops."
A very dim light bulb formed over Louie's head. "Yeah, boss. I remember the names Peter and Mike."
"Those boys might cause trouble again." Huey said.
"I don't wanna go back to prison." Duey said angrily, "Not after we just escaped."
Babbit grew very nervous. Yesterday, he had the misfortune to witness a bank robbery and got a look at the robbers' faces. He was taken hostage, and the bank robbers forced him to drive to his house. They were going to stay here until the heat was off. When the Beatles came looking for a place to live for awhile, Babbit sold them the Monkees' pad, hoping the Monkees would come over a cause a fuss. They did, now all Babbit could do is hope the Monkees would realize something was wrong and bring the police. Babbit hoped he would live that long.
"Well, if they do..." The Big Man said with an evil smile, "We'll plug 'em. And their landlord too!"
All four gangsters bust out laughing at that. They didn't pay attention to the small tear that fell down Babbit's cheek.

Back at the pad, the Monkees were drying themselves off.
Ringo handed another towel to Peter.
"Thanks Ringo." said Peter drying his hair.
"Yes, considering these are ours." said Mike.
"Not anymore," said John with a laugh.
"Come on, John, even I didn't think that was funny." said Paul.
"Lighten up, Paulie."
Just then, something popped into Micky's head.
"Say fellas, did Babbit sound a bit different to you?" he wondered.
"Why, what do you mean?" asked Mike.
"Does Babbit have a more gruff tone in his voice?"
"You know, you're right,” said Davy, “This voice was a little higher tone.”
"Say blokes, take a look here." said George reading the paper at the kitchen table.
They all gathered around the table.
Mike picked up the paper and started to read an article.
"Hmm, "Yesterday, there was a robbery at the Ninth National bank. The criminals were identified as Bessie Kowalski, AKA The Big Man, and three assistants George, Lenny and Spider, AKA Huey, Duey and Louie.”
The foursome took an unidentified bystander hostage before pulling away in their get-away car."
"You think Babbit knows about this?" asked Davy.
"Maybe one of us should go over there and ask if we should keep our eyes open." said Mike.
"I'll keep me eyes open all right," said John, putting his hands over his eyes as if they were glasses.
The Monkees and other Beatles had to admit, it was kind of funny, even in a situation like this.
"By the way, which one of us is gonna go over there?" asked George.
"’Ow bout Sir Ringo the noble?" said Paul.
"I just became Sir Ringo the chicken, you go Paul." said Ringo.
"I'll come with you, but let me dry off and change first." said Micky.

A few moments later, Micky and Paul were standing in front of Babbit’s house.
Paul knocked on the door.
"Hell-o, anyone here?" he asked.
Little did the two know, someone was peaking from the top floor window. It was Louie.
"It's those blasted kids again." he said.
"I bet they came here to snoop around." said Duey.
"What should we do?" asked Huey.
"Just leave it to me." said the Big Man.

Meanwhile, Micky tried knocking at the door, and Paul was trying to come up with a tune while waiting for someone to answer.
"Someone's knocking at the door, somebody's ringing the bell." Paul sang.
"Uh, Paul this is not really a time to sing." said Micky.
"You're right, that tune will never catch on anyway."
Just then the door opened, and the two went in.
The door then locked behind them.

Micky and Paul spun around at the sound of the door slamming shut. Standing in front of the door now was Louie with an evil grin on his face and a gun in his hand. Micky's eyes went wide when he recognized the thug.
"Louie!" Micky exclaimed, "You should be in jail!"
That remark puzzled Louie. "I should?"
"You two know each other?" Paul asked, surprised.
"Yeah, about a year ago the Monkeemobile ran out of gas in a ghost town and we were captured by Louie and his fellow gangsters." Micky replied. "They were using the ghost town as a hideout."
"You got a good memory, Micky." Another voice answered, "In fact, it’s too good."
Micky and Paul turned again to see Bessie Kowalski, Duey and Huey coming down the steps, guns drawn.
"Well, it seems a new member joined your club, Bessie." Micky remarked, trying to hide his nervousness. The last time she had only Huey and Louie with her.
"Yeah, Duey decided to come along for the ride when we busted out of jail." Bessie replied. "But enough about us. What brings you boys back here?"
"We came looking for Mr. Babbit." Paul answered, "What did you blokes do with him?"
"C'mon, we'll show ya." Bessie smirked, "Bring 'em, boys."
Huey, Duey and Louie shoved Micky and Paul up the stairs and into Babbit's office. There they saw a scared-looking Babbit tied to a chair. Micky and Paul were roughly tied to chairs on either side of Babbit. Bessie came to the front of the chairs and leaned against Babbit's desk.
"So," Bessie said, lighting a cigarette, "You boys came looking for your landlord. How touching."
Neither Micky, Paul nor Babbit said anything.
"I saw the four of you leave earlier." Bessie continued, pointing at Micky, "I heard what you boys said about having your home sold, so I have to assume you went back to your former house and got him." Bessie pointed at Paul. "Who, with his friends, supposedly moved into an empty house."
Bessie gave an evil stare at Babbit. "You lied to us, Babbit." She nodded to Huey. He walked over and slapped Babbit hard across the mouth.
"Hey, there's no need for all that!" Paul exclaimed.
"Paul, don't antagonize them." Micky said quietly. "Or you’ll be next."
"Listen to your friend, Paul." Bessie said, "I'm in no mood for arguments. Now, what do you two know about our recent activities?"
"Just what we saw in the morning paper." Micky answered, "You guys robbed the Ninth National Bank yesterday and took a hostage."
"We wanted to see if Babbit knew about it." Paul finished.
"I was at the wrong place at the wrong time." Babbit spoke up, "I know too much and now so do you two."
"Yep, that sums up the situation pretty good." Bessie stated.
"Our friends know we're here." Micky said, "If we don't return, they'll call the police." I hope, Micky thought to himself.
"You'd better hope not." Bessie snarled, as if she was reading Micky's mind. "I don't think you want to know what we'd do to you three."
Micky, Paul and Babbit looked at each other fearfully.
"Wait, I just got an idea." Bessie said slowly.
"What is it, Boss?" Louie asked.

Meanwhile, back at the pad, Mike, Peter, Davy, George, John and Ringo were sitting in the living room, waiting for Micky and Paul.
"They've been gone almost an hour." George said.
"Something's wrong." Davy replied, "It shouldn't have taken this long to sort things out with Babbit."
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
Thinking it was Micky and Paul, John yelled, "Its open, mates."
The door was thrown open and Micky and Paul stumbled in, followed by Babbit. Behind him were Bessie, Huey, Duey and Louie. They had their guns trained on Micky, Paul and Babbit.
"What's goin' on?!" Ringo exclaimed, standing up.
"Bessie Kowalski!" Mike, Peter and Davy exclaimed.
"Ah, it’s nice to be remembered!" Bessie laughed, then put her gun to Micky's head. "I suggest all of you stay calm and sit on the floor. I'd hate to shoot this fuzzy-haired weirdo."
Stunned, the three Beatles and the three Monkees obeyed.
"You know this bird?" George asked Mike.
"Unfortunately, yes." Mike said sullenly, "She's a two-bit gangster the Monkees helped put in jail about a year ago. Seems she back to her old ways."
"Hey, watch that 'two-bit gangster language." Bessie spat. "We just pulled off a $500,000 heist."
"You're the ones who robbed the Ninth National Bank?!" Peter asked."
"And Mr. Babbit was the 'unidentified bystander' they took hostage." Paul answered.
"Now that everybody's up to date." Bessie said, rolling her eyes, "Duey and Louie, get something to tie these nice boys up with."
Duey and Louie started searching the pad for bindings. They soon came up with clothesline, electrical cords, neckties and the phone cord. The Beatles and Monkees hands were tied behind their backs, then put in a circle with their backs to each other. The Beatles were put in one circle, the Monkees in another. Then a long length of clothesline was wrapped around each of the two groups, keeping each band together. Babbit was once again tied to a chair.
Bessie nodded her approval as Huey, Duey and Louie finished their work.
"Good job, boys. I don't think they'll be going anywhere for a while." Bessie laughed.
"Now what happens?" Davy asked.
"Now we wait here like one big happy family." Bessie replied, walking over to the bay windows that faced the ocean. "Until the cops stop looking for us. Then..." Bessie turned and faced her captive audience.
"Then, there's a nice, big ocean waiting for all of you."
The nine prisoners, even Peter, understood what that meant….

Cement overcoats.

Bessie, Huey, Duey, and Louie laughed, as The Beatles and Monkees tried to get themselves free. But the ropes were too tight.
"You boys are in for quite a surprise." said Bessie.
"I like surprises." said Peter with a grin.
"Same here." said Ringo with the same grin.
With that, Huey and Louie slapped the two on the face.
Peter began to whimper.
"Hey now, that wasn't nice." said Davy.
"Same here," said George.
Huey and Louie slapped them as well.
"Do you always have to do that? Asked John, “If you ask me, it's sort of daft."
"What he said." said Mike.
Huey and Louie then gave them slaps too.
"Cut that out!" yelled Micky.
"You had to open your mouth," said Paul.
The two then got a slap each.
"OK boys, let's end this slap party," said Bessie.
"Slap party, slappy birthday, that's funny boss," laughed Duey.
"Shut up and find me the cement, Duey."
Bessie then turned to the bands.
"I didn't know he was so stupid when he joined us."
"Boss!" called Duey.
"Now what is it?"
"They don't got no cement."
"Looks like we have to get some." said Louie.
"Better get enough for everyone." laughed Huey.
"Right, come on boys." Bessie called to them heading out the door. They followed her.
"Hey, wait a minute, what about the kids and the landlord?" said Duey.

"Yeah, what about the kids and their landlord?" asked Davy.
Louie was about to go over there and slap him, but Bessie stopped him.
"Save it for later." she said.
The four then left.
"Chains, the villains got us locked up in chains, and they ain't the kind that you can't see." sang George.
"George this is neither the time nor place to sing," said Mike who was almost yelling.
"Hey, don't talk to him like that!" John said to Mike.
"I can speak for myself, John!" yelled George.
"George, stop yelling at John!" said Ringo.
"You stay out of it!" yelled John.
"Hey, Ringo didn't do anything." said Peter.
"Mind your own business!" yelled Ringo.
Peter once again began to whimper.
"No see what you've done, you made him cry you big ox!" said Mike.
"Don't called Ringo an ox you ape!" yelled Paul.
"Mike is not an ape!" screamed Micky.
"Shut up Micky!" Mike yelled.
"Don't tell Micky to shut up!" Davy yelled.
"I can speak for myself shorty!" Micky yelled back.
"Who you're calling shorty?" said Ringo.
"He wasn't talking to you twit!" Davy shouted.
"I thought we said not to call Ringo names anymore!" yelled Paul.
"And you said I have a big mouth!" said Micky.
"You sure do!" yelled Peter, who was now more angry than sad.
Mike then came to his senses and realized that the situation was making everyone yell at one another.
He then spoke up.
"Quiet!" he shouted.
He then continued.
"Look at us, instead of trying to help each other get free, we're all yelling and screaming. Even at our own friends.”
Everyone then put their heads down in embarrassment and shame.
"I'm sorry I lost me temper there mates." said John.
"Same here." said Davy.
"So did I." said George.
"Me too." said Peter.
"That goes double for me." said Paul.
"And triple for me." said Micky.
"Back at you guys." said Ringo.
"As am I." said Mike.
The eight began to smile a bit.
"Gee, you think Babbit heard us?" Wondered Davy.
They all turned to see that Babbit was fast asleep in the chair.
"I guess all our yelling tired him out." said Peter.
They all laughed and it woke up Babbit.
Even in a situation like this, I still can get any sleep, he said to himself.
The gang then began to think of how they were going to escape.

Several minutes of silence passed. Finally Mike spoke up.
"Since we all have our backs to each other, do you think we can try to reach behind and try to untie the person behind us?"
"I've been trying to untie Ringo for a few minutes now." John replied. "The ropes are just too tight."
"At least our feet are still free." Micky remarked.
"Fat lot of good that does." Paul said. "We can't walk out of here tied together."
Then inspiration hit George. "We can't walk out of here tied together, but together we can still move."
"What do you mean?" Davy asked.
"Beatles," George instructed, "Let's press our backs against each other."
The Beatles did what George said.
"Now, on the count of three," George continued, "Push against each other and stand up."
The other three Beatles and the Monkees saw what George had in mind and smiled.
George counted off. "One...two...THREE!"
The four Beatles pressed their backs against each other and pushed up with their legs. Using each other as leverage, the four Liverpudlians quickly rose to their feet.
"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Everybody, including Babbit, cheered.
"OK, guys, lets follow their lead." Mike commanded.
The Monkees did what the Beatles did and soon they were standing up too. The two groups were still tied together, but now had some freedom of movement.
"What do we do now?" Peter asked, " Like Paul said, we can't walk out of here tied together."
"Hey, look at Davy!" John laughed.
Since the four Monkees were tied tightly together and Davy was shorter than Micky, Mike and Peter by several inches, Davy's feet were hanging off the ground.
"You gonna start the fight up again, John?" Mike demanded.
"No, wait Mike." Micky said, "Since Davy is smaller than us, we might be able to shake him loose."
"Shake me loose?" Davy repeated.
"Yeah!" Micky replied, "Davy, can you bring your legs up higher, towards your chest?"
"I think so, why?" Davy asked bringing his legs up.
Instead of replying, Micky said to Mike and Peter, "On the count of three, you two jump up as high as you can. Maybe we can release Davy."
Davy closed his eyes, waiting to be dumped to the ground.
"One...two...THREE!" Micky yelled.
Micky, Mike and Peter jumped up and landed hard on the floor. They almost lost their balance, but managed to stay on their feet. Davy was still tied to the other three Monkees.
"I felt meself slip a little fellas." Davy said, "Do it again!"
The other three Monkees jumped up again, and when they came down, Davy came down too, all the way to the floor. He landed hard on his backside, but didn't care. He was free, well, almost. Now that Davy wasn't next to the other three, the rope wrapped around the Monkees came loose and fell to the floor. They still had their hands tied behind them, but now they could move around individually.
"Hooray!" Everybody yelled.
"What about us?" Ringo said, "I'm a little shorter than the others but not as short as Davy."
"Thanks, mate." Davy said sarcastically.
"Let's grab onto the rope around them," Mike said. "And try to pull it over their heads."
The Monkees grabbed the rope around the Beatles, but couldn't pull the rope up over them.
"I got it!" Paul exclaimed, "Monkees, hold the rope tight. Beatles, on three sit down quickly!"
Everybody nodded, quickly understanding what Paul was suggesting. On three the Beatles sat back down on the floor, while the Monkees held on to the rope around them. The rope was a little stubborn, but finally slid over the Beatles' heads. Now everybody was semi-free, except Babbit.
"Boys, get out of here." Babbit said, "It’s my fault I got the eight of you in trouble, and Bessie and her thugs might be back any minute."
"No way, Mr. Babbit." Mike said, "We've had our differences, but we're not leaving you here."
John the other Beatles were already walking over to the kitchen to get some knives.
"Once I find the knives, we'll be free in a snap." John said.
"Top drawer on the right." Davy called over.
"So you guys really do live here." George said with a smile.
John opened the top drawer on the right and found a few kitchen knives. "Hello, what's this?" He laughed as he turned around to grab the knives with his hands. John had just grabbed the first one, when everybody heard several car doors slam.
The Monkees ran over to the front door. Micky opened the peep hole with his chin and looked out. Just as everyone feared, Bessie and her gang were back, carrying bags of cement mix. Micky closed the peep hole.
"It’s Bessie!" He called out, then managed to lock the front door.
The Monkees and the Beatles looked at each other, uncertainty in their faces. They all easily could've ran out the back door and onto the beach, but didn't want to leave Babbit behind to face Bessie's wrath.
"I told you boys to get out of here!" Babbit said angrily.
Just then, Bessie, on the other side of the front door, turned the handle. To her surprise, the door was locked. She immediately became suspicious.
"I thought I told you guys to leave the front door unlocked." She said angrily.
"We did, boss!" Huey said quickly, "I was the last one out! I swear the lock was open."
"Then our 'guests' must be free." Bessie growled. "Knock down the door."
Huey, Duey and Louie smiled. They loved knocking down doors. Bessie got out of the way and the three gangsters lined up and charged into the door. It held-barely.
The four Monkees were pushing on the other side of the door, trying to keep the gangsters out.
"Lads, get out of here!" Davy shouted to the Beatles, "Get the police! We can't hold this door forever!"
The front door started to buckle under another hit from Huey, Duey and Louie.
"But we can't..." Paul started to say.
"GO!!" All four Monkees shouted at the Beatles.
"We've dealt with Bessie before." Mike said, "Maybe we can buy some time."
"We'll be back for you...all of you." George said somberly, glancing over at Babbit.
With heavy hearts, the four Beatles ran out the back door, down the steps and onto the beach. John still held a knife in his hands. He'd use it to free the other Beatles.
The front door was hit again and this time, Bessie and her thugs broke through. The Monkees were knocked to the ground. Any thought of escape was stopped by the drawn guns Bessie, Huey, Duey and Louie had in their hands. A quick glance around the pad told Bessie the Beatles had escaped.
"So, you boys think you're so clever." Bessie snarled.
"Why don't you and your boys take a hike, Bessie?” Davy said, "The others are going to the police."
Bessie considered that statement for a moment.
"If I was a reasonable woman, I might've done that." She said at last, "But we have a little bit of unfinished business from the last time we met."
"Unfinished business?" Peter gulped.
"Yeah, we never got the chance to ice you guys." Bessie laughed. Her thugs laughed too.
"Bessie, please let them go." Babbit pleaded, "They're just kids!"
"Yeah, 'just kids' who got me and my boys put in jail!" Bessie spat out. She walked over and untied Babbit from his chair, leaving his hands still tied.
"Take them all to the car." Bessie said, shoving Babbit in front of her. "We're gonna give them a ticket to ride-one way!"
The Monkees were roughly pulled up off the floor and shoved out the front door. They looked back at their pad, wondering if they'd ever see it again, wondering if they'd ever see the Beatles or their own families again....

...Wondering if they'd ever see anything again....

The Beatles ran onto the beach, and then quickly ducked under the back porch of the Monkees pad. Expecting to hear gunfire any second, John got to work cutting Paul's hands free. Guided verbally by George, John managed to put the knife against Paul's bonds and saw them off.
Quickly taking the knife out of John's hands, Paul rapidly cut John, George and Ringo loose. Rubbing their sore wrists, the Beatles started to run between the Monkees' pad and the house next door.
As they ran along, they encountered the Monkees' next door neighbor, Mrs. Prudy, coming the other way. She gasped in fright when she saw four long-haired men coming towards her, one of them carrying a knife.
Thinking they were burglars, Mrs. Prudy started running back the other way.
"Wait! Wait!" Ringo yelled, "We mean you no harm, Ma'am."
Mrs. Prudy started to run faster, but the Beatles managed to catch up to her.
"Oh, don't hurt me!" Mrs. Prudy pleaded, "I'm just a poor old lady!"
"We're not gonna hurt you, madam." Paul said, tossing the knife to the ground, "We need your help."
"Won't you please, please help me?" John sang.
"We're wasting time John." George said, rolling his eyes. "Did you read that story about the bank robbers knocking over the Ninth National Bank yesterday?" George said to Mrs. Prudy.
"Yes...yes I did." Mrs. Prudy replied, much calmer.
"Well, those robbers are in the house next door here, and they have the Monkees and Mr. Babbit hostage."
"Oh my..." Mrs. Prudy gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.
"We need you to call the police and tell them to get over here quickly." Ringo finished. "Can you do that for us?"
"Yes. I'll do that right away." Mrs. Prudy said solemnly. "Those poor boys and Mr. Babbit." She went back into her house as quickly as her legs could carry her.
Paul picked the knife back up off the ground and the four Beatles ran to the front of the house. They quickly took refuge in the shrubbery near the door. Inside, they could hear Bessie yelling through the busted door.
"We're going to give you boys a ticket to ride-one way!" Bessie said with a laugh.
"They're gonna take the Monkees and Babbit with 'em." John whispered. "We gotta stop 'em."
Without a word, Paul jumped out of the shrubs and stabbed one of the tires on Bessie’s car. The tire let out a satisfying hiss as Paul jumped back into the shrubs.
"Good work, mate." George said quietly, patting Paul on the shoulder, "That should slow them down at least."
Just then, the Monkees and Babbit, their hands still tied behind them, were shoved out the front door by Bessie and her goons.
"No need to shove." Micky complained.
"Shuddup and get in the car." Duey snarled.
Duey then heard the hissing sound from the tire.
"Hey, who's hissin'?" Duey asked angrily, "If its one of you boys..."
"Shut up Huey." Bessie snapped, "It sounds like its coming from the car."
Huey and Louie checked the car. It didn't take them long to see the front tire going flat.
"Hey boss, the tire's goin' flat." Louie said.
Bessie took a look for herself. Fortunately, she didn't connect the Beatles' escape and the tire going flat together. She rolled her eyes.
"Great, just great." Bessie complained. "Just when we need it the most, the car gets a flat tire."
"Let's get one of these boys to change it." Duey suggested.
"Naw, not enough time." Bessie replied.
"So it looks like you can't take us for a ride." Mike smiled.
Bessie turned to Mike and was about to slap him, when she saw the Monkeemobile sitting next to her car.
"Don't be to sure, Tex." Bessie sneered, "We'll just use your car. I hope you boys don't mind."
Listening from the shrubs, the Beatles hung their heads. Paul looked especially dejected. He hadn't thought about disabling the Monkees' car. Now, armed with only a kitchen knife, there was no way they could take on Bessie and her three gun-toting henchmen.
"Get the loot out of the car, Huey." Bessie ordered, "We've got ourselves some new wheels."
Huey did as ordered and quickly came back with several sacks of money. He placed them inside the Monkeemobile, while Bessie, Duey and Louie pushed the Monkees and Babbit towards the car.
Watching helplessly from the shrubs with the other Beatles, John said softly, "I never thought I'd say this, but I hope the police come very soon."
The other three Beatles couldn't agree more.

The Beatles watched as Bessie and her goons pushed the Monkees and Babbit into the Monkeemobile from the shrubs.
"That's it! We gotta save them." said Paul, about to climb out of the bush.
George pulled him by the back of his shirt and said, "If those creeps see you, they'll find us."
"Right," whispered John.
"What about the Monkees and Babbit?" asked Ringo.
"First we need a plan."
It was no use to come up with something, for at that moment, the Monkeemobile pulled out of the driveway, and sped off.

As the Beatles saw the car take off, they were trying to see what direction it was heading to.
The car went straight, then turn left, heading west to Sunset.
The Beatles looked at one another, shook their heads in a yes manner, and went back to Mrs. Prudy.
"The police are on there way now." she said, as the guys entered the house.
Just then, they all heard sirens, and two police cars pulled into the driveway of Mrs. Prudy's house.
The five greeted three officers.
"Which way did the car go?" one policeman asked.
"They headed west for Sunset." answered John.
Another officer then spoke into a walkie-talkie and called, "We need back-up on Sunset, repeat back-up on Sunset!"
Two of the officers headed out the door, one stayed to question Mrs. Prudy and the Beatles.
Right now, all the five can think about is if the Monkees and Babbit were OK.

Meanwhile, the Monkees and Babbit were still tied up, in the back seat of the Monkeemobile, being under the watchful eye of Huey and Louie, while Duey sat up front with Bessie.
Just then, everyone heard sirens.

Bessie looked in her rear-view mirror and let out a curse. The police were on her tail! She floored the gas petal and the Monkeemobile roared. The Monkeemobile was a souped-up GTO (thanks to Micky) and started to pull further and further away from the police cars. Bessie smiled.
"You boys have a nice fast car!" She yelled back to her prisoners, "Too bad this is your last ride!" Bessie flew through several intersections, regardless if she had a red or green light. She dodged in and out of traffic, using all the techniques her late husband taught her to shake off a tail.
The Monkees and Babbit were thrown against the sides of the car as Bessie drove madly. It was a miracle they hadn't had an accident yet. As Bessie made yet another sharp turn, Davy found himself pressed into the seat by Peter. Davy's bound hands were pushed between the top and bottom seat cushions. In the space behind the bottom cushion, Davy felt something small and metal. Quickly feeling the object, Davy realized it was a nail file! He remembered Mike saying his last girlfriend was so bored she kept filing her nails. Keeping his face neutral, Davy hid the nail file in his hands. It wasn't sharp, but it had a point on it. Davy kept his hands against the back cushion and stated using the point of the file on his ropes. Fortunately, Huey and Louie were paying more attention to the police cars than the Monkees or Babbit.
As fast as Bessie drove, she wasn't faster than the police radio. The police quickly called ahead, and soon Bessie was facing police cars coming in the opposite direction! Letting out another string of curses, Bessie turned the wheel to the right and onto a side road leading to the mountains.
"Bessie, give it up!" Mike yelled, "The police will just call ahead and trap you anyway!"
"I'm not going back to jail!" Bessie shouted, "And neither are they!"
"Yeah, you tell 'em boss!" Louie replied.
Bessie ignored the comment and looked again in her rear-view mirror. The police were still following, but further behind than before. If she could make them lose sight of her, even for a second or two, Bessie could make her escape. A wicked idea came to her as she saw a wide bend coming up as the car began to climb into the mountains.
"Looks this is where one of you gentlemen are getting off." She laughed.
The Monkees and Babbit looked at each other, wondering what Bessie meant. As the Monkeemobile started to make the bend in the mountain road, Bessie stopped the car.
"Throw Babbit out of the car!" She ordered.
"WHAT?!" The Monkees and Babbit screamed.
But Huey and Louie simply grabbed Babbit and dumped him off the side of the car. Babbit landed on his feet, then fell as the car roared off. The Monkees looked frantically behind them to see if Babbit was OK, but their view was quickly blocked by the mountain they were going around. Huey and Louie pushed the Monkees back into their seats. Peter started to cry. Mike glared daggers into Bessie's back.
"You evil witch!" Mike spat angrily. "You didn't have to do that!"
"He was nothin' but a whiner." Bessie shrugged, not caring what Mike just called her, "Besides, he's the one who got you into this mess."
"That doesn't mean you can toss him away like a piece of rubbish!" Davy shot back.
Huey slapped the backs of Mike's and Davy's heads. "That's enough. Both of you."
Louie looked behind him. "Looks like we lost 'em boss." He said happily.
"Where now, boss?" Duey asked.
"My late, great husband had a cabin in these mountains." Bessie answered, "Not even his closest friends knew about it. We'll head there, split up the loot and...." She looked back in her rear-view mirror at the Monkees, "Take care of these nice boys."

The officer driving the front police car saw something lying in the road. It looked like a body! He was barely able to stop his car in time. Getting out of the car, the officer and his partner ran over to see Babbit trying to sit up. They gently helped him sit up, then began untying his hands. The police cars behind them came to a stop too.
"Are you OK, sir?" One of the officers asked.
"My shoulder hurts." Babbit gasped, "Oh, those poor boys! All my fault, my fault!"
"Take it easy sir, we're getting an ambulance." Another officer said, running over.
Another police car came to a stop behind the others, and the Beatles came flying out. They ran over to Babbit.
"Mr. Babbit! Are you OK? What happened?" Ringo asked.
"Bessie's thugs threw me out of the car to slow the police down." Babbit replied, crying.
"And they succeeded." An officer replied. He had taken his car around the scene to see where Bessie had gone, but found nothing. "There's no trace of the car."
The wail of an ambulance filled the air. The Beatles hung their heads. John angrily kicked a stone off to the side of the road, as Babbit, his hands now free, put his head in his hands and kept whispering over and over how this was his fault.
John, Paul, George and Ringo looked at each other, then at John, the leader. Without a word, he began marching back to the police car. The other three Beatles followed.
"Where are you four going?" One of the officers asked.
"We're going to find our friends." Ringo said simply.
"But you just can't take a..." The officer started to say, but the Beatles had already piled back into the police car and were driving up the mountain. Other officers took their lead and followed in their own cars, while others stayed with Babbit.
"Good luck, Beatles." Babbit whispered as the ambulance crew arrived. They would need it.

The car went higher and higher up the mountain, until suddenly, the car stopped.
"OK, everybody out!" shouted Bessie.
The Monkees, Huey, Duey, Louie and Bessie all got out.
As Davy jumped out, everyone saw that his hands were free, and he raced off.
"Should we stop him boss?" asked Louie.
"Forget it, at least we got the others here, and he'll come back." laughed Bessie.
Duey and Huey pushed the other Monkees towards the hide-out cabin.
Although they were scared, they were happy that Davy was free.

Meanwhile, as Davy ran down the road, he had different feeling about what he was doing. He was free, and was gonna get help.
On the other hand, he felt terrible leaving his friends behind.
Just then, he saw a police car up the road. The car stopped and so did Davy, he recognized who was inside.
"John! George! Paul! Ringo! Boy am I glad to see you guys!" Davy cried.
"We followed the car up this way." said Ringo.
"I was just about to get help."
"Hop in, we'll take you back up the road." said Paul.
"You can show us where to go." said John.
Davy climbed in the back of the car.
"Thanks you guys, by the way, how's Babbit?" he wondered.
"We'll explain on the way," said George.
Davy pointed the way, to where the car took him and the other Monkees.
He was glad that Babbit was going to be OK.
He just hoped the guys were too.

Davy showed John where Bessie had taken the other Monkees. John parked the car behind a hill a little ways from the cabin. As they climbed out of the car, Ringo noticed something on the back seat. Picking it up, he realized with a shock that it was a revolver inside a holster.
"Hey, look at this." Ringo said, holding the gun out. "This might even the odds a bit."
"Can you fire that thing?" Davy asked Ringo.
"No, but I've seen lots of Cowboy movies. I once wanted to immigrate to Texas, y'know. Besides Bessie won't know I can't fire it."
"Well, keep it pointed away from us, mate." George said nervously.
Keeping close to the ground, the Beatles and Davy climbed the hill and peeked over the edge. About one hundred feet away was the hide-out cabin, with the Monkeemobile parked off to the side.
"That's them all right." George whispered.
"How can we get over there?" Paul asked quietly. "Its open area all around, they'd see us before we even got close."
"Let’s wait for the other police cars to catch up." George said.
"No, it'll be too late." Davy said, "Bessie has a grudge against us so we have to think of something quick."
Just then the five Englishmen heard a gunshot.

"Watch it with that gun, Huey!" Louie yelled, "It’s got a hair-trigger!"
"Sorry Louie." Huey replied, "I was just trying to clean it."
"Lucky for you the bullet hit the wall." Bessie growled as she examined the bullet-hole. "Another foot to the right and it would've hit the stuffed bear my late husband shot just before he died." She walked over to the table where the loot was sitting.
"Sorry boss." Huey replied.
"You two get over here and let’s split this all up." Bessie said, "Duey, you finished tying our guests up?"
Duey stood up after tying Micky's feet together. "Yeah, boss, I'm done." Duey had tied Micky, Mike and Peter to chairs, then tied their feet too.
"Then get over here." Bessie demanded. "The quicker we get done, the quicker we can ice those three and scram."
"Davy's gonna bring the cops, Bessie." Mike said, "You'll be in jail again soon."
"Permanently this time.” Micky finished.
"And you'll be dead soon. Permanently. Gag 'em, Duey." Bessie said, opening the first money bag.
Duey gagged Micky, Mike and Peter, then sat down with the other three gangsters. Bessie began to count the money and put it into four separate piles.

Outside the cabin, The Beatles and Davy hid behind some bushes.
Davy was crawling out of the bushes, when John stopped him.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"I have to know how my friends are." answered Davy.
"But you'll be caught like them." said George.
"I don't care, I have to see."
"OK, but we'll come with you." said Paul.
"Remember, stay low, so we won't be seen," said Ringo.
The five of them crawled out of the bushes and crept up to the cabin.
They peeked into a near by window where they saw Peter, Micky and Mike bound and gagged in one part of the cabin, while Bessie and her gang counted the money at the other end.
"The guys don't seem to be hurt.” Said Davy with relief in his voice, “We got to save them."
"We just can't go barging in, we'll get tied up as well." said Ringo.
"We need a plan," said George.
Just then, something came to John. He crawled back to the police car, took an item out, and crawled back to the others. They all saw it was a megaphone that John had in his hands.
The five of them smiled.
With that, John began to speak into the megaphone, using a different tone of voice.
"This is the police, we got you surrounded!" he said.
He then handed the item to Paul.
"Come out with your hands up!" Paul shouted.
"Oh no! The cops found us!" said Huey.
"I bet that kid got them!" said Duey.
"What are we gonna do?!" cried Louie.
"Let's go outside to check!" ordered Bessie.
The four of them raced out the door to see what was going on. When they did, they failed to see The Beatles and Davy enter the house, and they locked the door behind them.
The five raced to the other Monkees.
"Davy! George! Paul! John! Ringo! Boy are we glad to see you!" Cried a very happy Peter, after getting the gag removed from his mouth.
"You can say that again." said Mike.
"You guys OK?" Davy asked.
"A bit shaken up, but we're fine." Micky answered.
Davy was glad to hear that.
Everyone was even gladder to see that Bessie and her gang not only left the money and their guns behind, but there was also a phone.
"I wondered why they have a phone." Mike thought.
"Maybe to order pizza?" said Peter.
Everyone turned their heads to him.
Micky tried to call the police to see if the phone worked. It did. He told them where they were, and the police told the Monkees and Beatles to wait for them to come.
It looked like things were going to turn out for the better.

Bessie, Huey, Duey and Louie looked around the outside of the cabin, but didn't see any sign of the police.
"Where'd they go?" Huey asked, scratching his head.
Bessie realized the truth. "There were no police, dummy! It must've been Davy and those other long-haired weirdoes!"
"They tricked us!" Louie growled, "I don't like being tricked!" He made for the front door, but Bessie stopped him.
"Hold it!" Bessie demanded, "They'll be expecting us to charge through the front door. It'll be eight against four and they have our guns!"
"Why don't we just take their car and scram boss?" Duey asked. "We can come back another day and take care of 'em."
But Bessie was full of rage and wouldn't listen to reason.
"No!" She spat. "We're gonna get our money and those boys too! And here's how we're gonna do it."

John and Mike finished putting up furniture against the front door in case Bessie and her thugs came back. They then joined the others standing around the table, looking at all the money.
"Wow, look at all that!" Peter said in awe.
"I've never seen so much money before." George replied.
"Think the bank'll miss a few twenties?" Micky asked.
"Yes they will Mick." Mike replied. "I'm sure we'll all get a reward for getting the money back."
"Won't be much split eight ways." Paul remarked.
"Nine ways." Ringo corrected, "Mr. Babbit should get a share too."
"Hey, how is Babbit?" Mike asked, "Bessie had him pushed out of the car."
"He didn't seem too hurt." John replied, "The ambulance had just arrived for him when we left to go after you four."
"That's good." Micky nodded.
Just then, the Monkees and the Beatles heard a pounding on the door.
"Let us in, you long-hair freaks!" Bessie demanded, "We want our money!"
The eight men rushed over to the door.
"Sorry, we don't want any!" Micky shouted.
"Yeah, we gave at the office!" Paul said.
The Monkees and the Beatles laughed at that. What they didn't know was while Bessie distracted them at the front door, Huey, Duey and Louie were climbing through the back windows. They tip-toed over to the table and grabbed their guns.
"All right you wise-guys, turn around!" Huey demanded. "And put your hands up!"
The Monkees and Beatles obeyed.
"Move over to the fireplace." Duey ordered.
Once again, the Monkees and Beatles did as they were told. While Huey and Duey kept their guns on the eight guys, Louie took the furniture away from the front door and let Bessie inside.
"Nice work, boys." Bessie beamed, then marched over to the prisoners.
"Thought you could pull a fast one on us, huh?" Bessie sneered, "Well, this is where you get yours. Plug 'em, boys!" Bessie shouted.
Huey, Duey and Louie pulled the triggers on their guns....
But nothing happened.
The three gangsters looked at their guns, puzzled.
"What's goin' on?" Louie demanded.
"What's goin' on is that we unloaded your guns while you four were outside." Paul said with a smirk, then looked at his friends. "Think this evens the odds a bit mates?"
"Yeah!" George replied.
"More than evens them." John said angrily, "Get them!"
With that, the Monkees and the Beatles charged Huey, Duey and Louie. The three gangsters were tough, but the Beatles had once spent several months in Hamburg Germany playing gigs in the worst clubs in the red-light district, so they knew a few tricks of their own. The Monkees were simply angry at how they and Babbit had been treated and soon enough, Huey, Louie and Duey were knocked out on the floor. But then an angry voice cut through the noise.
"Stop right there!" Bessie demanded. In her hand she held a small pistol she had kept in her garter. "This gun IS loaded!"
"Give it up, Bessie." Micky said, "The police will be here any minute."
"Perhaps, but at least I'll ice one of you meddling Monkees!" She snarled and aimed the gun at Micky's heart. Bessie’s finger curled around the trigger....
"THIS IS THE POLICE! WE HAVE THE PLACE SURROUNDED! SURRENDER AND COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!"
Startled, Bessie looked over to where the sound came from. Ringo used that opportunity to throw a bag of money at Bessie. It hit her hand and knocked the gun out of her grip. The gun slid over to John and he picked it up and aimed it at Bessie. She gave a wane smile.
"You...you wouldn't shoot a lady, would ya?"
"No," John said slowly, "But from what I've seen today, you're not a lady. Not by a long shot. So put your hands up."
Seeing that John was dead serious, Bessie did as she was told. Just then, the police burst into the room. In a matter of moments, Bessie was handcuffed and taken away. Her men were shaken awake and given the same treatment. The police chief walked over to the eight shaken men.
"You boys all right?" He asked.
"We're fine." Davy replied, "Just glad this is over."
"You'll all be happy to know there's a big reward for the capture of Bessie Kowalski and her men." The chief said, "But first let’s get you boys to the hospital for a check-up."
"Can we take our car?" Mike said, pointing to the Monkeemobile parked to the side.
"Sure. I'll see you at Mercy Hospital. I heard your landlord is going to be fine."
"Thanks, chief." Peter said, relieved.
The Monkees and the Beatles climbed into the Monkeemobile. Mike started the car, and soon they were heading back down the mountain. They didn’t even glance over at Bessie, Huey, Louie and Duey as they were being put into the police car.

At Mercy Hospital, the Monkees and the Beatles were quickly examined. Except for the bruised wrists from being tied-up tightly for so long, everybody was fine. They asked where Babbit was being kept and went to see him. Babbit was sitting up in bed with his arm in a sling. His face lit up when he saw the Monkees and the Beatles enter his room.
"Monkees! Beatles!" He exclaimed, "I'm so glad to see you!"
"I'd never thought I'd say this, but we're glad to see you too!" Micky said seriously.
Babbit looked down at his bed sheets. "You don't have to lie, Micky. I know you boys didn't like me before, but now...."
"Hold on, Mr. Babbit." Davy said, "We know why you did what you did. It was the only way to draw attention to yourself. Bessie and her thugs would've killed you in a blink of an eye."
"Where are they now?" Babbit asked fearfully.
"In police custody." George replied, "None of us will have to worry about her and her gang for a long time."
Babbit breathed a sigh of relief. "That's terrific news! Now, once I get out of here, we'll have to settle where all you boys are going to live. The Monkees really did live in your house." Babbit said, looking at the Beatles.
The Beatles looked at each other. John cleared his throat.
"Well, the lads and I have decided to move back to England."
"Move back?" Peter asked, "Why?"
"The weather here is great and all that." Paul replied, "But we miss England and its rainy weather."
"Plus we miss the Cricket matches, Bank Holidays, driving on the left, and scones with clotted cream." George added.
"And, most importantly, our families are there." Ringo finished.
"I'll refund the deposit you gave me." Babbit said, then gave a rueful laugh. "Unless Bessie stole it. When will you boys be leaving?"
"In a day or two." John replied.
"We'll miss you guys." Mike said sincerely, "But you think the eight of us can fit in a jam session before you leave?"
"I think we can manage that." Paul said smiling.

Babbit was released a short while later. He had a badly bruised shoulder, but would recover in a few days. The two rock groups drove him home. That night, at the Beatles/Monkees’ pad, the two groups joined forces on the bandstand. Plenty of great music was heard that night, including a new song John was inspired to write.

He called it 'Help'.

THE END