By: Lisa Rated PG with some parts PG-13

The sound of the mailbox opening and closing told Peter the mailman had just gone by. Putting down the guitar he had been tuning, he got up to see what mail had come. A minute later, he was thumbing through a small pile of letters. Most of it was junk mail, one was a letter from Davy’s sister, but it was the first-class letter with the TV station KXIU return address that got his attention. It was simply addressed to The Monkees with their address underneath.

Shrugging, Peter tossed the rest of the mail on the kitchen table as Davy came in through the back door from a walk on the beach.

“Hey, Peter.” Davy said as he took a towel lying near the door and wiped the sand from his bare feet.

“Hi, Davy.” Peter replied, still staring at the envelope.

“What are you looking at?” Davy asked as he strapped on his sandals.

“Oh this?” Peter asked, “The mail came a minute ago and we got this letter from station KXIU.”

“That name sounds familiar.” Davy mused as he walked over to Peter. “Anything else?”

“A letter from your sister.” Peter replied, handing the letter to him.

“Thanks mate.” Davy smiled as he began to tear into the envelope, then stopped. “Aren’t you going to open that letter from KXIU?”

“I don’t know.” Peter said, “What would they want with us?”

Davy thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers.

“Now I remember!” Davy exclaimed, “About two years ago we were booked on their Captain Crocodile Show and did he everything he could to ruin us.”

“Oh yeah.” Peter said, frowning, “He thought we were a threat to him and even sent his Crocodile Corps after us.”

“That bloke was crackers.” Davy said, shaking his head, “After we exposed him for the fraud he was Howie Needleman took over.”

“And he was little better than Captain Crocodile.” Peter finished, then looked thoughtful, “That show was soon cancelled. I wonder what happened to those two.”

“Who cares?” Davy said with a wave of his hand, “It’s made me leery of performing on TV ever again.”

The front door opened and Mike and Micky came into the pad.

“Hi guys, what’s up?” Micky asked.

“We got a letter from KXIU.” Davy said, opening his letter and walking away.

“From who?” Mike asked.

“I remember that station.” Micky said, “We performed, or tried to perform on that crazy Captain Crocodile’s show.”

“Oh yeah,” Mike said with a frown. “What do they want with us?”

“One way to find out.” Micky replied, “Open it, Peter.”

Peter took a knife and gently slit open the letter. Inside was a folded sheet of paper, which Peter took and unfolded. On the top of the paper was the official letterhead of KXIU. Peter began to read the neat typewritten letter:

Davy stopped reading his letter and walked over to Peter as he was reading. Now all four Monkees stood looking at each other in total surprise.

“They’re giving us a trip to Boring Boring?” Micky asked in the silence.

“Looks that way.” Peter said happily, “Well, what do you guys think?”

“I don’t know.” Mike replied, rubbing his chin. “Why contact us now after almost two years?”

“Perhaps they had legal problems with the Captain before they could deal with us.” Davy offered.

“That’s possible.” Micky said, taking the letter from Peter and looking at it closely, “It’s written on KXIU stationary. So it must be legit.”

Mike walked over to the phone.

“Let’s call them.” Mike said, “And find out what this is all about.”

“I’ll do it.” Peter said,

“No, you better let me handle this, Peter.” Mike said as he picked up the phone and dialed the number. It took several rings, but finally someone picked up the other end.

“Hello, this is KXIU, may I help you?” A female voice answered.

“May I speak to Judy?” Mike asked. “I need to ask about a…”

“This is Judy.” The woman on the other end interrupted, one Mike now recognized: Junior Pinter’s secretary, the one the Monkees met when they first met Junior.

“This is Judy, how may I help you?” She asked, a slight annoyance in her voice when Mike didn’t reply right away.

“This is Mike Nesmith of the Monkees.” Mike replied, stifling a sigh “Remember us?”

“Oh yes, you’re calling about your trip to Boring Boring aren’t you?” She replied, getting right to the point.

“Yes I am.” Mike said, “So you know all about it?” He asked, a little surprised.

“Of course, I’m the one who booked it all for you under Mr. Pinter’s orders.” Judy replied.

“Why is he giving us this trip, Judy?” Mike asked, still wondering about the whole situation.

“His son Junior is the one who urged his father to do this.” The secretary replied, “He wanted to make amends over what happened with the Captain and perhaps persuade you four to appear again on another show in the future.”

‘No chance of that.’ Mike thought to himself, but to Judy he said, “Can I talk to Junior?”

“He and his family are on a cruise around Australia.” Judy replied, “He won’t be back for several more days.” The sound of papers being rustled around could be heard on the other end. “In the meantime, I’m going to send you four your tickets and reservations. You can leave in a few days.”

“Oh, that’s ok, Judy.” Mike said quickly. “We’ll come over tomorrow and pick them up.”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. Finally, Junior’s secretary spoke again, this time her impatient tone was gone.

“I suppose that will be alright.” She said, “Come around ten o’clock.”

“We’ll be there, Judy.” Mike replied, “See you then.”

There was no answer as Judy had already hung up the phone.

Judy hung up the phone and looked at the man standing in front of her desk.

“They want to come here to pick up the tickets.” She said, a frown on her face.

“That will be no problem.” The man said, fingering one end of his mustache, “Junior will still be away and his office empty.” He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Here is something for your troubles.”

Judy opened the envelope and counted the money inside.

“Where’s the rest of it?” She asked sharply.

“You’ll get the rest once they are satisfied and on their way to Boring Boring.” The man replied, putting on his hat. “When they are gone, you’ll get what’s coming to you.” With that, he left Junior’s office.

*

The next morning, the four Monkees drove over to the KXIU studios. They warily entered Junior Pinter’s office. Judy was alone in her office and was at her desk waiting for them.

“Oh, you’re on time.” Judy said, pulling an envelope out of her desk drawer. “Here you go.” She said, handing a large envelope to Mike.

Mike took the envelope and looked inside at the contents. Micky, Peter and Davy looked over his shoulder. There were four coupons with the Boring Boring logo on them. On each of them was printed: Good for seven days stay at the Ocean View Resort, including luxury accommodations, all food, taxes, and gratuities.

“What about transportation to the resort?” Micky asked.

“Look further in the envelope.” Judy told Mike.

Mike riffled through the envelope some more and pulled out four more coupons that read: Good for round-trip transportation from Malibu marina to the Ocean View Resort.

There was also a small brochure with pictures of sandy beaches and grass huts along the shore.

“Satisfied now?” Judy asked, hands folded on her desk. “Any other proof you need?”

“Well…” Mike hedged, looking at his band mates. They looked hopefully at him. “When can we leave?” He finally asked.

“You can leave tomorrow if you want,” Judy replied with a smile, “Now that you have the tickets.”

“Let me talk it over with the others.” Mike said, pulling his band mates to the side.

“What do you guys think?” Mike whispered.

“Sounds cool to me.” Micky whispered back excitedly, “We can do our gig tonight and go to paradise tomorrow.”

“I thought we were going to Boring Boring.” Peter said.

“Yeah, after tonight we don’t have any gigs for a few weeks.” Davy added, “This would be a great time to go there.”

“Ok, let’s do it then.” Mike said, then walked back over to Judy’s desk. “We’d like to go tomorrow, Judy.”

“Excellent!” Judy smiled, “Let me call the resort and have them send a skiff for you tomorrow morning at Malibu Marina.”

Judy dialed a number and soon was talking to the reservations desk. After a few minutes, she hung up and looked up at the Monkees.

“There will be a boat coming to take you four to the island at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning.” She said, “The trip will be about an hour and then you’ll be at the resort.”

The Monkees jumped up and down in excitement.

“Thanks so much, Judy!” Davy said, running around her desk to give her a hug. The other Monkees followed suit.

“Please, please!” She said, getting flustered, “I need to get back to work. I hope you four have a good time.”

“Thanks, Judy! We will!” The Monkees exclaimed as they hurried out the door.

Judy leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes and shook her head. The door to Junior’s office opened.

“You did very well, my dear.” A voice said, causing Judy to start. It was the man who was in Junior‘s office yesterday. He had been inside Junior’s inner office listening to the whole conversation. “They don’t suspect a thing.”

“I always did want to be an actress.” Judy replied, sitting back up, “But I end up working in a TV station for the boss’s kid.”

“Things don’t always work out as they planned, Judy.” The man replied with a rueful laugh as he walked over to her desk. “I could’ve been the most popular kiddies show host in the country, more popular than Howdy Doody or Captain Kangaroo, but those Monkees had to come on my show.” He growled, “They ruined me!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Judy said. She’d heard this all before many times, “They’re on their way to Boring Boring. Now where’s the rest of my money?”

“Oh yes, I did promise you’d get what’s coming to you, didn’t I?” The man said. With that, he pulled a gun out of his coat pocket. He quickly attached a silencer to the barrel.

“What are you doing?” Judy shouted as she pushed her chair back, her eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t have loose ends. There is too much at stake.” The man said, sound mildly apologetic, “Believe me, your sacrifice will help open the door to a new kind of TV programming.”

Before Judy could say another word, the man shot her once in the chest. Judy’s body stiffened, then slumped in her chair. The man took the silencer off his gun and put both gun and silencer away. He then pushed Judy’s chair back up to her desk as a crimson spot appeared on her chest. Tipping his hat to the secretary, the man left the office.

Once outside, the man jumped into his car and sped away. Laughing manically, Captain Crocodile peeled off his fake mustache and threw it out the window. His plan was coming along fine.

*

Unaware of what had happened at the studio, the Monkees spent the rest of the day rehearsing for their gig and packing for their trip.

Taking a break from packing, Peter walked over to the TV and turned it on. Just as the newscaster began to read, Mike came over and shut the TV off.

“Hey, why did you do that, Mike?” Peter asked.

“We don’t have time for that now, Peter.” Mike explained, “We gotta rehearse for the gig tonight.”

“Oh, ok.” Peter said and followed Mike to the bandstand.

After rehearsing, the guys packed their instruments into the Monkeemobile and went over to the Vincent Van Go-Go.

During a break, Davy as usual found a girl to talk to. Her name was Lucy and she was a regular at the club. As they stood at the bar, Davy told Lucy about the trip the Monkees were going to make the next day.

“Sounds like you and your friends are going to have a groovy time.” Lucy said.

“Yeah, too bad only the four of us can go.” Davy smiled.

Lucy blushed, then asked, “I forgot, on which island did you say the resort was located?”

“Boring Boring.” Davy replied.

Lucy looked down at the floor for a moment, her forehead wrinkled in thought.

“What’s the matter?” Davy asked.

“I seem to remember Boring Boring was in the news last year.” Lucy replied. “Something about…”

“Hey Davy!” Mike shouted over to him over the noise of the crowd. “We gotta get back up on stage.”

“Coming Mike!” Davy called back, then turned to Lucy, “Hey, I gotta go. Tell me later, ok?” He squeezed her hand and walked back over to the stage.

“Oh now I remember!” Lucy exclaimed, but by then Davy was joining his band mates back on stage.

“Remember what, Lucy?” A man asked her as he came over to the bar.

“Oh hi, Roger.” Lucy said, “I was just going to tell Davy of the Monkees what I had heard about Boring Boring Island.”

“Yeah, the resort there was shut down last year.” Roger said, “My sister worked there for awhile. A nearby volcano erupted and they had to close for safety reasons.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Lucy replied, “Davy told me he and his friends had been invited on an all-expenses paid trip to the resort.”

Roger chuckled, “He’s just feeding you a line, babe.” He said, “C’mon, let’s check out a movie.”

“Sounds good to me.” Lucy smiled and the two left the club.

After the gig, the Monkees packed up for home. Davy was a little disappointed to see Lucy hadn’t waited for him.

“Don’t worry about that now.” Mike told Davy as he walked over to him after collecting their pay from the club owner, “You’ll probably see her when we play here again.”

“Yeah, we gotta hit the hay early anyway to be on time for the boat.” Micky added.

“You’re right, Micky.” Davy admitted, “Don’t want to be late for the trip of a lifetime.”

So the Monkees went home and right to bed, not bothering to watch the news and thus never found out about Judy being shot.

The next morning, the Monkees were waiting expectantly at the Malibu Marina for their boat to Boring Boring. Micky paced the dock, while Peter stood at the edge and scanned the horizon.

“Sit down, Micky.” Mike said, “You’re making me nervous.” Mike was sitting on one of the suitcases.

With a sigh, Micky joined him on another suitcase. “I’m just so excited about this!” He said happily, “We’re in for seven days of sun and fun…”

“With girls in their bikinis.” Davy grinned.

“Plus big buffets of food.” Peter added with a smile.

“I’m going to lay out in a hammock and sleep.” Mike said wistfully.

“Hey, I think I see a boat!” Peter shouted.

Immediately, the three men stood up and joined Peter at the edge, straining to see if it was indeed a boat.

“Yeah, it’s coming closer!” Micky said happily, rubbing his hands together.

Indeed, a boat was coming over to their dock. As it drew closer, the Monkees could see it was a small-motorized skiff, big enough for about ten people. On its side in blue lettering was the name Boring Boring logo inside a blazing sun. Despite the recent paint job, the boat looked like it had seen better days. Still, the Monkees were very happy to see it pull up to their dock and they cheered. The operator was inside a small wheelhouse. As soon as he was along side the dock, he cut the engine and came out onto the deck. He removed his hat and greeted the men.

“Hi there! Are we ready for a fun-filled trip?”

Upon seeing who the operator was, the four men immediately stopped cheering and looked at the man in total shock.

*

“Howie Needleman?” The four Monkees exclaimed together.

“I go by Howard now.” Howard said, “How did you…oh yeah, now I remember! You boys are from that chimp act, aren’t you?”

“We’re the Monkees.” Mike replied.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right that rock group. Here, could one of you please tie the boat?” He handed up a line with a loop at the end. Micky took it and placed the loop over a short post. Then Howard climbed up onto the dock.

“So, I can tell you four are surprised to see me.” Howard said, straightening his coat and tie.

“Yeah, that begins to cover it.” Davy replied slowly.

“So now you’re working at the Ocean View Resort?” Mike asked.

“Yep, I just started here a month ago. After that fiasco at WXIU, I was washed up. Nobody would hire me. Fortunately, the owner of this resort had kids who liked the Captain’s show and he finally offered me a job.”

“What a break.” Micky remarked.

“It’s a living.” Howard replied, shrugging his shoulders, “Well, time’s a wastin’…” He walked over to the boat once again, “Let me help you four with your luggage.” He turned to see the four Monkees still standing in the same place, silently staring back at him.

“Well? Aren’t you coming?” He asked.

“If you’re here, where’s your buddy?” Micky asked.

“My buddy?” Howard replied, looking puzzled.

“Yeah, Captain Crocodile.” Peter replied.

“Oh him. He’s no buddy of mine.” Howard replied with a snort. He walked back over to the Monkees. “I’ll tell you boys this once and then I don’t want to ever talk about him again.” He said angrily. “As you know, after he was fired I was given the job and I changed the name of the show to Monkee Menagerie.”

“And immediately proceeded to squirt us with seltzer.” Micky responded with a frown.

“Well…I am sorry about that.” Howard admitted, “I tried to keep the fun spirit of the Captain’s show. At least I let you boys perform on the air.”

“In wet clothes.” Mike added, “Not very safe when playing an electric guitar.”

“But soon word spread about what happened to the Captain.” Howard continued, ignoring Mike’s remark. “Parents wouldn’t let their kids come to my show. The ratings went into the cellar and…” Howard trailed off, waving his hand. “I was finished. “Like I said, the resort owner’s kids liked the Captain and gave me this job.”

“So where is the Captain?” Peter asked.

“Who knows and who cares.” Howard replied bitterly, “His ego and paranoia ruined his career and mine.” Howard took a breath and let it out. “So now, will you join me?” He asked motioning to the boat.

The Monkees looked at each other. It was clear Howard had as little love for Captain Crocodile as they did.

“I’m ready for some relaxation.” Mike said, “How about you three?”

“We’re ready!” Davy exclaimed.

Micky and Peter said the same thing, so with Howard’s help they quickly loaded the boat with their luggage and climbed aboard.

“Ok, boys!” Howard said as he untied the boat, “Get seated and get ready for the trip of a lifetime!”

The Monkees sat down on the cushioned seats along the sides and Howard went into the wheelhouse. The engine roared to life and soon the boat was on its way to Boring Boring.

As the Monkees talked excitedly amongst themselves, Howard, inside the wheelhouse, reached inside his coat and felt the cold hard steel of his gun inside its holster, thankful he didn’t have to use it.

When the shore receded to a hazy outline on the horizon, Howard brought out a cooler from the on-deck locker and asked if the Monkees wanted anything to drink. All four said they would take soda and Howard dutifully served them the drinks. It was a beautiful day, and water was calm, so Howard had no trouble navigating the boat. As the Monkees drank, Peter’s attention was drawn to an island some distance off the starboard side. The island was dominated by a large smoking volcano.

“Is that Boring Boring, Howard?” Peter asked, pointing to the island.

Howard came out of the wheelhouse and looked to see where Peter was pointing.

“No, that’s Crackatoe Island.” Howard replied.

“Why is it steaming?” Davy asked.

“It recently became active again after several centuries.”

“Are we in any danger?” Peter asked, looking serious.

Howard shook his head. “Naw, it’s just making a show. There’s Boring Boring.” Howard pointed to another island becoming visible in front of the boat’s bow. The Monkees stood to take a look.

Boring Boring was a tree-covered island with a small volcano rising up from the center.

“Yep, that’s Boring Boring.” Howard repeated with a smile. “It’s about ten miles in diameter, and except for the resort, it’s been untouched by humans. Its volcano is about a half-mile high…and dormant.”

The Monkees chuckled at that.

As they came closer to the resort, the sound of tropical music could be heard wafting through the air. Peter was still looking thoughtfully at Crackatoe.

“What’s the matter, Peter?” Micky asked.

Peter looked over at Howard and then back at his friend.

“I remember hearing something on the news about Crackatoe Island.” He said quietly.

“What did you hear?” Micky asked.

“That it had erupted.” Peter said.

Micky now looked at the island and then back at Peter.

“What’s the big deal?” Micky asked, “Volcanoes have been known to come back to life after several centuries.”

“Well, Howard said it was just making a show. Why didn’t he tell us it had erupted?”

“Maybe he didn’t know.” Micky replied.

The dock was now visible from the boat and slightly inland, the Monkees could see a large building made to look like a thatched-roofed hut. A stone-paved walkway led from the dock to the building.

“We’re almost here!” Howard shouted happily, “What you see in front of you is the check-in center. You’ll go in there to check in and get your room numbers. You can also see what activities are planned and sign up for whatever ones you’d like.”

“Where’s the rooms?” Davy asked.

“They’re behind the center.” Howard replied, “They’re also made to look like native huts, but don’t worry, you’ll have all the modern comforts of home.”

As they came closer to the dock, Howard cut back on the motor, letting the waves glide the boat in. It was then the Monkees noticed something was wrong. The tropical music coming from the loudspeakers on the dock’s lampposts were the only sounds coming from the island. There was no other sounds, and the place seemed to be deserted.

“Where is everybody, Howard?” Mike asked, standing up.

With a sigh, Howard turned to Mike. “I’ll be honest with you boys.” He said, shaking his head, “Business has been pretty slow lately, people are going to other resorts or to Disneyland.”

“Why?” Peter asked, “Could the eruption of Crackatoe have something to do with it?”

“What are you talking about?” Howard replied.

“Crackatoe erupted last year.” Peter answered, “Maybe people are afraid Boring Boring might do the same.”

“I didn’t know about Crackatoe erupting.” Howard replied, looking surprised, “Maybe that’s why I was able to get this job, nobody wanted to work here either.”

“Told ya Peter.” Micky whispered.

Anything Peter would’ve said was interrupted by the boat gently bumping into the island pier.

*

“Well, here we are!” Howard said, all happy again. “Welcome to the Ocean View Resort.” He nudged the engine again and put the boat into its slot, then wrapped a rope around a post.

As the Monkees gathered their gear, another man hurried down the path from the check-in center to greet them. He was a tan, middle-aged gentlemen of Samoan descent, wearing a grass skirt, sandals and a shirt and tie. A wreath of leaves circled his head and behind him he pulled a luggage cart with one hand and had a bunch of leis draped over one arm.

“Welcome, welcome!” The man exclaimed as the Monkees climbed up onto the dock, “You are most welcome to our resort! My name is Johnny and I will see you to the desk.” Johnny then placed the leis over each of the Monkees’ heads.

“Thank you.” Peter smiled.

“Thank you for coming.” Johnny replied, as he quickly put the Monkees’ luggage onto the cart and began to push it up to the main lodge. The four men followed behind and looked at the beautiful plants and trees around them. Unknown to them, there were cameras hidden among the trees, recording everything.

“Nice place.” Davy remarked, “Never saw anything like this in England.”

Behind them, Howard untied the boat and quickly pulled away from the dock.

Soon, they were entering the resort’s lodge. It was a tall, round structure with an atrium in the middle with all sort of exotic plants growing. Johnny quickly took the Monkees over to a desk that had a carved face on its front. Leaving the cart with the men, he walked around to the back of the desk.

“You’re the reservations man too?” Micky asked.

“Yes, there are not a lot of people working here right now.” Johnny replied apologetically, “I am doing double-duty right now. Do you have your reservations?”

Mike reached into his shirt pocket and brought out the envelope with the reservations Judy had given him.

“Here you go, Johnny.” He said.

Johnny took the envelope, opened it, and looked at the four vouchers.

“Oh, very nice sirs.” He smiled, “You have luxury accommodations near the beach.” His voice echoed in the large room, as they were the only ones there. Johnny reached into a side desk and pulled out four keys. “Here you are, sirs.” He handed them the keys, “Now please follow me.” Johnny grabbed the luggage cart and began to walk toward a different door than the one they had entered.

The Monkees looked at each other, then silently followed Johnny, their footsteps echoing inside the room.

They went outside and found themselves on a stone path that curved around smaller huts scattered around the area. Mike tapped Johnny on the shoulder.

“Where are the rooms?” He asked.

“Oh, you’re looking at them sir.” Johnny replied with a slight laugh, “Instead of rooms inside a big hotel, our guest rooms are separate and individual.” He pointed at a door of one of the huts, “See, there is the room number.”

A minute later, the group came upon a hut slightly larger than the rest. Johnny pushed the luggage cart to the door.

“Here’s your suite sirs.” He said with a slight bow.

Mike pulled out his key and opened the door. He went inside with the other Monkees close behind him. Johnny brought up the rear with the luggage cart.

The room had four Queen-size beds arranged around the curved sides of the room. Large windows let in the cool air. The Monkees could smell the sea breeze. Off to the right was a bathroom with a marble sink and golden faucets and to the left was a closet big enough to hold all of their clothes.

“Gosh, this place is nice.” Micky commented.

“Yeah, it is.” Mike said in awe.

Johnny quickly took the luggage from the cart and placed it in the center of the room.

“Is there anything you need sirs?” He asked.

“No, not right now Johnny.” Peter replied. “Thank you.”

“Then I will leave you now.” Johnny said, “Please enjoy your stay.”

“Here you go, Johnny.” Davy said, holding out some money for him, but Johnny shook his head.

“Oh no, sirs.” He smiled, “Your tips have been taken care of. Have a great day.” Johnny then left the Monkees’ room, pushing the cart in front of him.

Closing the door, Johnny’s smile quickly changed into a smirk as he walked back to the main building.

“So what do guys think?” Peter asked his band mates. “Groovy place, huh?”

“It is nice.” Mike replied, plopping down on one of the soft beds, “But it’s just so quiet.”

“You could almost say too quiet.” Micky added.

“I didn’t notice any other people besides Johnny here.” Davy said, plopping down on another bed. “I think we’re the only guests.”

“Well, Howard did say business was bad.” Peter put in, looking out the window, “Look at it another way: We have our own private island!”

“Leave it to Peter to find the bright spot.” Davy said. He got up from his bed and picked up his suitcase. “I’m going to change and hit the beach.”

“I think I’ll take a nap.” Micky said yawning. He lay down on another bed next to Davy’s and was soon asleep.

“I’m going to take a look around the place.” Mike said, “See what there is to see.”
“Micky has the right idea.” Peter told him, “I’m going to take a nap too.”

As the Monkees were talking, they had no idea they were being watched. In a small room inside the main lodge, Howard monitored what was going on inside the Monkees’ suite via a TV set up against the wall. There were many other TVs showing different parts of the resort. The door to the room opened and Johnny came inside. Howard moved aside to let Johnny see what was going on.

“They’re still suspicious, Captain.” Howard said to him.

Captain Crocodile looked at the monitor. “It doesn’t matter.” He replied, picking up a towel and beginning to wipe the brown makeup off his face, “Those Monkees will soon be the special guests on my new Captain Crocodile show-whether they like it or not!” The Captain’s maniacal laugh was deafening in the small room.

*

Davy quickly changed into his swimming trunks, grabbed a towel and followed the signs to the beach. It wasn’t far and soon Davy was walking on the white sand. A short distance away, he noticed a few beach umbrellas and to his surprise, there appeared to be people underneath them! Quickening his pace, Davy soon approached the nearest person, a blond girl wearing a red bikini.

“Hello, there!” Davy said, flashing his most brilliant smile, “My name is Davy, what’s yours?”

But the girl stayed silent, in fact, she didn’t even move or give any indication that she had heard Davy. The young Englishman had been brushed off before, but never like this! He bent down to get a closer look at the girl. It was then he noticed that the girl wasn’t even breathing!

Davy reached out and touched the girl’s arm. To his shock, the girl fell over and her head fell off! It wasn’t a live girl at all but a mannequin! Davy walked over to the other umbrella and touched the girl lying underneath. It was also a mannequin. A few feet away, hidden partly by a rock, was a video camera.

Slowly, Davy walked away from the umbrellas. When he got back onto the path, he broke into a run back to the suite.

Mike slowly strolled around the grounds, looking for signs of any other guests. Other than the far off music coming from the main lodge and the occasional bird call, it was quiet. Mike came upon a grove of trees, and attached to those trees were hammocks.

“That looks nice.” Mike smiled, heading over to one of them. Kicking off his shoes, Mike laid down on one of the hammocks and started to drift off to sleep.

Just as he was dropping off, a leaf from one of the trees holding his hammock fell off and landed on Mike’s face. Rolling his eyes, Mike pulled the leaf off of his face and looked above him at the offending tree. It was then that he noticed something odd about the tree. Getting to his feet, Mike looked up and focused on the object hidden among the leaves. It was a video camera! To Mike’s surprise, the camera then turned and looked right at him!

Glaring at the camera, Mike pulled his shoes on and marched back to the suite as fast as he could.

Davy burst back into the suite, yelling for Micky and Peter.

“Peter, Micky! Wake up!” Davy shouted.

“What, what’s wrong Davy?” Peter asked sleepily.

“I saw some girls on the beach,” Davy said quickly, “I walked over and tried to talk to them, but they were dummies!”

“Davy, that’s not a nice thing to call somebody.” Peter chided, having been called one himself at times.

“No, I mean they were props, mannequins!” Davy replied, throwing his hands in the air.

That remark brought Micky fully awake.

“Why put mannequins on the beach?” Micky asked, “It doesn’t make sense.”

Just then, an irritated Mike marched back into the suite.

“What’s the matter Mike?” Micky asked.

“We’re being watched.” Mike said angrily. “I was trying to take a nap on a hammock and I saw a camera recording my every move.”

“Oh my.” Peter replied, putting his hands to his mouth.

“As I walked back, I found other cameras recording what was going on.” Mike continued. “I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if there was a camera in here.”

The four Monkees silently looked around them. Finally, Davy spoke.

“I was on the beach and there were two mannequins propped up like they were real.” He said, “Why try to give the impression that there were other guests here?”

“This is altogether too weird for me.” Micky said, “I want to go home.”

“I second that.” Mike replied.

“I third it.” Peter said.

“And my vote makes it unanimous.” Davy finished, “I’m going to change clothes and then we can get out of here.”

Davy walked into the bathroom to change again, the other Monkees gathered up their belongings. Micky looked at a picture of sunflowers hanging against one of the walls. Acting on a hunch, Micky took the picture off the wall, and what he saw nearly made him drop the painting.

Right where the black part of the sunflowers would hang on the wall, there was the lens of a video camera looking right at him!

“Guys.” Micky said quietly.

Mike and Peter joined him, silently staring at the camera in horror. Mike pulled his shoe off and slammed the heel against the lens, shattering it on the first blow. Davy heard the noise and came running over.

“What are you doing…? His voice trailed off as he saw the broken lens.

“Let’s get out of here.” Mike told the others as he put his shoe back on.

The others nodded, and grabbing their luggage, left the suite without a backward glance.

As they entered the main lodge once again, they were met by a Chinese man wearing the same uniform the Monkee had seen Johnny wear earlier. The man was taken aback when he saw them with their luggage.

“What is wrong, sirs?” He asked in a clipped Chinese accent.

“Where’s Johnny?” Mike demanded.

“Johnny is on break.” The man replied with a slight bow, “My name is Lee, how may I help you?”

“We want to go back to the mainland, Lee.” Davy replied, “Right now.”

“Now, sir?” Lee asked in surprise, “Is there a problem? Have we failed to serve you?”

“Yeah, there’s a problem.” Micky snapped, “We don’t like being watched in our room!”

“Or on the beach.” Davy added.

“Or while we’re trying to relax.” Mike finished.

“But sirs, those cameras are for security reasons!” Lee protested. “And to let us know if you need something.”

“In our own private room?” Peter asked. “No Lee, I don’t buy that.”

“Neither do we.” Davy said and Mike and Micky nodded their heads too.

“Well…” Lee said with a sigh, “I must radio Howard and have him come back and pick you up.”

“Then do it.” Mike said, “We’re going to wait here for him.”

Micky sniffed the air. “Hey, do you smell that?”

The other Monkees sniffed too.

“Yeah, it’s food.” Davy replied, “Lots of it.”

“Oh, the dinner buffet is now open, sirs.” Lee said with a smile, “Please, go eat! It will be awhile before Howard can come back here.”

Micky had already dropped his luggage and was following the sign that said ‘dining room’. Mike called after him.

“Micky, wait a minute!” He said.

“C’mon, Mike, we might as well get something out of this.” Micky replied.

“I’m kinda hungry too.” Peter said, putting his luggage down as well.

“Oh okay.” Mike said, putting his luggage down, and shaking his head, “Can’t argue with Micky’s stomach in any case.”

Davy put his luggage down and followed Micky, Peter and Mike over to the dining room.

When the three got inside, they found Micky with a plate in his hand, ogling all the food that had been laid out on a central table in the room.

“Wow, look at all this!” Micky exclaimed, grabbing a serving spoon.

The other Monkees had to admit it was quite a spread. There was chicken, roast beef and three kinds of soup, plus lots of pasta choices too. Mike, Peter and Davy grabbed plates and joined Micky at the table.

“I’ll bet this room has a camera in it too.” Mike quietly told the others.

“Yeah, but all they’ll see is us stuffing ourselves.” Micky smiled.

Soon, the four had loaded their plates and were seated at one of the dining tables. There were linen table cloths and fine silver cutlery on each table.

“You gotta wonder though,” Davy said as the four of them ate, “Why set out all this food for just a few guests?”

Peter shrugged, “I guess they like to take make sure we have plenty to eat.”

“But how can they afford it?” Davy pressed, “If there aren’t any guests around…”

“Just eat, Davy.” Micky said, “Worry about that later at the pad.” He wiped his mouth and stood up. “Let’s see what they have for dessert.”

Micky took a few steps toward the table once again, when he began to feel dizzy. He grabbed the table to steady himself.

“What’s the matter, Micky?” Mike asked.

“I think I ate a little too fast.” Micky replied, trying to make a joke, but the fact was, the room was starting to spin. Micky’s legs buckled under him and he sank to the floor.

“Micky!” The other three shouted, getting up to join him. But they began to feel dizzy too and had to grab the table to keep from falling.

“What’s going on?” Peter asked, frightened. “The room is…” He slid to the floor.

“Lee! Lee!” Davy yelled as he sank to the floor, followed by Mike.

The Chinaman calmly walked into the room, totally unconcerned at what was going on.

“Yes sir?” Lee asked.

“Help…us…” Mike stammered as the room darkened.

Lee’s leering grin was the last thing the four Monkees saw as they lost consciousness.

*

Splash!

Moan…

“Get up!” A harsh voice commanded.

That scene was repeated three more times as the Monkees were awoken from their drugged sleep.

Groggily, they managed to raise their heads up as water dripped off their faces. Looking around, the Monkees saw they were sitting in the middle of a large open-air amphitheater. In front of each of them sat a wide-brimmed hat sitting on top of a small sack. Several feet behind that was a small curtained stage around which was a group of rough-looking men wearing camouflage uniforms. At their feet were dogs on leashes that were glaring silently at the four Monkees.

“What’s going on?” Mike asked, “What happened?” He tried to move, then realized his hands were tied behind him to the other side of a stake. Micky, Peter and Davy were also tied to their own stakes next to his.

“Hey, let us go!” Micky demanded of the men standing in front of him.

The men just laughed at that. Suddenly Howard appeared from the behind the curtained stage. He was also wearing camouflage and a smug smile on his face.

“Oh goody, you’re up!” Howard exclaimed, “Now the show can begin!”

“What show?” Davy demanded, “What’s going on, Howard?”

“You’ll find out soon enough!” Howard laughed and ducked back behind the curtain.

A few seconds later, loud music was blaring from the loudspeakers around the amphitheater. Howard’s voice then announced:

“Hey, boys and girls! What time is it? It’s time for Captain Crocodile!” He exclaimed.

At that, none other than Captain Crocodile, wearing his red and white jumpsuit and bowler hat, bounded onto the stage. The four Monkees could only look at each other in complete shock as the music cut off.

“Well, hello there Monkees!” Captain Crocodile shouted happily, “Glad you could make it!” Then the Captain put his thumbs in his ears, wiggled his fingers and made a whooping sound, just as he did when he had his own kiddy TV show. When the Monkees failed to respond, the Captain’s smile took on a sinister look.

“Ah, I see you remember me. I know that look.” He said with a chuckle. “That’s the same reaction I got from all the other TV stations after I was fired and tried to find another job.”

“What do you want with us, Crocodile?” Mike demanded, managing to stand up, though he was still tied to his stake.

“That’s Captain Crocodile to you, Nishwash!” The Captain shouted at Mike, as Howard joined him back on the stage. “And you’ll shut up and listen to me!”

The Captain jumped off the stage and walked closer to his captives.

“What do I want with you?” He asked, “What do I want with the four men who ruined my career, made me a laughing stock in the TV industry?”

“We didn’t ruin you!” Peter protested, “You tried to ruin us!”

“We were no threat to you!” Davy added. “We were offered a job…”

“SHUT UP!” The Captain shouted at them, “You were trying to ease me out, steal my audience with that noise you call music!”

“No, we weren’t…” Micky tired to explain as he managed to stand up as well.

“You and that brat Pinter!” The Captain continued over Micky. “He tried to act oh so mature in his big office with little furniture.” He chuckled, “I’ll get him too, after you four have done a little something for me.”

“And what’s that?” Mike asked slowly.

“Why, be the stars in my new TV show!” The Captain replied with a smile.

Captain Crocodile walked over to a billboard near the stage. He pulled the cloth off the billboard to show a large map of the island, with the north and south parts marked with an X. Between the two X’s was a dashed line. The ex-kiddy show host picked up a pointer and slapped it against the billboard.

“See this?” He asked, “It’s a map of Boring Boring. Right now we are here in the south part of the island.” He pointed to the X. “You four boys are going to race from here across the island to the northern part.” He traced the route with his pointer. “All the time being pursued by these gentlemen and their dogs.”

“No we’re not!” Micky told him, aghast.

The Captain just smirked and continued. “Of course you are.” He said in a silky voice, “You would not only disappoint me, but these gentlemen too. Not to mention the rich patrons who financed this whole scheme for me.”

“Patrons?” Peter asked.

“Oh yes, my friend.” The Captain replied, “While spending time in a sanitarium, I hit upon the idea of a show without a script or plot…where anything can happen. A fellow inmate had a rich father with rich friends, they liked my idea and so now…” He gestured grandly around him, “I was able to buy this defunct resort, hire these men, and of course rig this whole island with cameras to follow your every move.”

“You’re crazy!” Mike said.

“Oh yes, crazy like a fox!” The Captain retorted, “Everything that has happened, from the time you set foot on this island, was for the amusement of my wonderful patrons…and me!”

“So Judy was in on this too?” Micky asked.

“Oh yes, dear Judy had long bristled working under little Junior Pinter.” The Captain replied, “It was easy to bring her aboard, along with Howie.” He indicated his partner.

“What did we ever do to you, Howard?” Davy asked him.

“Not only did you ruin the Captain’s career and life, but mine as well!” Howard shot back, “Nobody wanted me either! I ended up homeless!”

“Now that we’re all up to date, let me go over the rules once again.” The Captain said.

“We’re not going to cooperate!” Mike shouted at him.

“Oh yes you are!” The Captain shouted back, and pointed at the men in camouflage. “These men will not hesitate to rip each of you apart piece by piece until you cooperate.”

“So…what happens when we reach the north shore?” Peter asked, swallowing.

“There will be a motorized boat waiting for you, full of fuel, and you can leave the island and go back to your lives on the mainland.” The Captain replied. “But to get there, you’ll have to cross some dangerous territory. In front of each of you, you will see a hat and a sack. In each sack is a map, food, water, a compass and a knife.”

“How nice of you.” Mike said dryly.

“Well, I do want to give you four a chance to make it.” The Captain replied with an evil grin, “It wouldn’t be good television if you four died before making it half-way across the island.”

The four Monkees said nothing. The Captain walked over to stage and picked up a knife. He then began to walk over to his four captives while the men in camouflage and Howard filed out of the amphitheater on either side of the stage.

Walking behind his captives, the Captain spoke one last time. “You have four minutes to cut yourselves loose, gather your sacks and get out of here.” He said, venom in his voice. “Starting now.” He slammed the knife into the stake just above Mike’s bonds. Welcome to reality television!”

With a maniacal laugh, Captain Crocodile walked away with the others, leaving the Monkees alone.

Mike immediately began to work his ropes back and forth against the knife, praying it was sharp enough. Behind the Monkees, through a gated doorway underneath the stands, the camouflaged men had gathered with their dogs. The dogs, sensing a chase, began to growl and bark.

“Hurry, Mike!” Peter told him.

“I am, Peter, I am!” Mike replied, as the last of the ropes fell away.

Quickly, Mike pulled the knife out of the stake and began to cut his friends loose.

“You have one minute left, Monkees!” The voice of Captain Crocodile said over the loudspeaker.

Mike now had all his friends free and they quickly put on their hats and grabbed their sacks. They ran behind the stage, through an open gate, and out into the jungle beyond. Behind them, the men and their dogs came out of the gate and began to run after them.

*

There wasn’t much cover for a hundred feet, but then the terrain turned into jungle very quickly. There was a narrow dirt trail running through the trees and shrubs and the Monkees quickly followed it. As they ran in single file, they could hear the dogs barking behind them from not too far away.

Mike was in the lead, and as he ran he tripped over a hidden wire and stumbled. A swishing sound was heard and darts came from the trees.

“Get down!” Micky yelled.

Mike wasn’t quick enough and a dart slashed across the back of his shoulders, cutting his shirt.

“Ahh!” Mike yelled, grimacing in pain.

“It’s just a scratch, Mike.” Peter told him, looking at the mark.

“Doesn’t feel like it.” Mike replied, gritting his teeth.

The barking dogs were coming closer. They had to move on.

“We have to keep going.” Davy told the others, looking back. Micky and Peter helped Mike to his feet.

“Can you walk, Mike?” Micky asked.

“Yeah, the sting’s gone down a bit.” Mike replied.

“I’ll take the lead.” Davy said, running off down the trail. The other three followed behind him, looking back at the trail behind them, expecting to see the dogs any second.

Soon, the trail they were following branched off in two directions, one to the left, the other to the right.

“Now what?” Micky asked.

“Let’s split up, make it harder for them to catch us, maybe some of us will get away.” Peter told them.

“No, that’s what Crocodile wants!” Micky exclaimed. ‘We gotta stay together!”

“Micky’s right.” Davy agreed, “We’re going to make it out of here together.”

“Let’s look at our maps.” Mike said.

“We only need one right now.” Peter said, pulling his map out first. “Hmmm…it’s marked really weird.”

Micky took Peter’s map and turned it right side up.

“There you go, Peter.” Micky said.

“Thanks, Micky. The two trails both seem to go around a large chasm and meet up again on the other side.” Peter said, looking closely at the map.

“So which one do we take?” Davy insisted, which one is the shortest distance?”

“It looks about even.” Peter said, then folded up the map. “Well, as Yogi Berra once said, ‘If you come to a fork in the road, take it!’” With that, Peter began running down the left path. The other three Monkees looked at each other and then followed him.

In the small control room inside the lodge, Captain Crocodile sat on a chair and watched the four Monkees run down the path. He was now dressed in a brown hunter’s outfit and had a glass of Chardonnay in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. He took a puff on the cigar and then let out an evil chuckle.

“It doesn’t matter what path you take, my little Monkees.” He said, his eyes gleaming with madness, “They will all lead to your doom! HAHAHA!”

Howard, standing next to the Captain, laughed too.

“You’re the best, Captain.” Howard told him. “You’ve invented a new form of television.”

“Oh, I am a genius, aren’t I, Howie?” The Captain asked, “This real-life chase will make me very rich!”

“Make us rich, Captain.” Howard corrected.

“What?”

“You promised to give me a cut.” Howard replied.

“Oh yes, yes Howie.” The Captain said with a smile, “You will be given a cut.”

The two men then turned their attention back to the TV screen.

A minute after the Monkees had taken the left path, the hunters and their dogs arrived. It didn’t take them long to determine which way the four men had gone and they continued in hot pursuit.

The Monkees continued to follow Peter down the path and soon there were tall rocks and boulders around them. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be any place to take cover among them.

“We’re wasting time.” Mike said, “Even if we did find a place to hide there’s cameras everywhere.” He pointed to a camera up in a treetop.

They continued to travel down the path and soon the rocks were close by on either side of them. After awhile, the trail widened considerably but was hemmed in by the smooth rock on the sides.

“I don’t like this.” Davy said, looking around “This doesn’t seem natural.”

“Why not?’ Peter asked.

“Look at the walls. They’re too even.” Davy replied.

The four men stopped to catch their breaths and look around. The rock walls on both sides were high above them, then they sloped down evenly and gradually down to the ground. The Monkees stood in an open area. Micky walked over to one of the rock walls and felt its top.

“There’s a groove on the top of this wall.” He said, puzzled.

“We’re in some sort of valley.” Mike remarked.

“Let’s go back. Something’s wrong.” Davy said, starting to head the other way.

“We can’t, those guys are still after us!” Peter exclaimed.

“I don’t care! I…” Davy stopped suddenly when he heard a rumbling sound.

“What’s that?” Micky whispered.

Back in his control center, Captain Crocodile calmly flipped a switch.

“Time to say goodbye to one of our contestants.” He purred.

Back at the valley, the Monkees looked up at the source of the sound. To their horror, a huge round boulder running along the tops of the walls, came roaring down! The boulder gathered momentum as the walls sloped down and the boulder slammed to the ground and rolled after the Monkees.

*

“RUN!” Mike screamed unnecessarily.

The four Monkees turned and ran down the path ahead of the boulder. The sides of the path were too high and smooth to climb upon, so they had no choice but to keep running.

“Oh yes run, RUN my little Monkees, run!” Captain Crocodile cackled as he watched all this from the safety of his control room. “Now watch Howie,” He continued, pointing at the screen, “Here comes the good part.”

Howard leaned closer to get a better look at the screen. “What’s gonna happen, Captain?”

“They’re going to come to the edge of the path…”

The Monkees stopped suddenly when the path ended in a deep, wide chasm. There were also sharp wooden spikes sticking up from the bottom. The path’s walls went around the chasm so there was no way to skirt around it.

“Whoa! How do we cross?” Micky asked, looking around frantically.

“Look! There are ropes hanging down!” Davy exclaimed, pointing to three ropes hanging down from a beam that crossed the width of the chasm.

“Now they’ll realize there are only three ropes…” The Captain told Howard.

“There are only three ropes!” Peter said, “We can’t all cross at once!”

“One of them will have to wait until the other three cross…” The Captain continued. “But by then the boulder will have smashed him!”

“You three go first.” Davy said, “I’ll wait.”

“No, it’ll be too late.” Mike said, “Climb up on my back.”

“But your back…” Davy said.

“DO IT!” Mike ordered.

Davy climbed up on Mike’s back and then he, Micky and Peter ran, jumped and grabbed onto the ropes dangling from the beam traversing the middle. They swung up just as the boulder came down the path and into the chasm below them.

“NOOO!” Captain Crocodile screamed as he watched the four Monkees escape death. “That wasn’t part of the plan!”

“But captain…” Howard said.

“One of them was supposed to die!” He yelled at his crony.

“But Captain, you said this was a reality show. You said anything could happen and it did!” Howard said, patting him on the back.

“Yes I did, didn’t I?” The captain replied, more calmly this time. “There’s still plenty of opportunities for them to die, right Howie?”

“Oh yes, Captain.” Howard soothed.

“I’m still a genius aren’t I, Howie?”

“Yes indeed, now let me fill your glass again.” Howard said as the captain turned back to the TV screen.

The Monkees swung back and forth on the ropes until they had enough momentum to reach the other side, then when Mike gave the word, he and Micky and Peter let go of the ropes and went sailing over to the other side of the chasm. They landed with a thud and Davy quickly climbed off Mike’s back.

“You ok, Mike?” Davy asked quickly.

“I’ve been better.” Mike replied with a wince.

“Thank you, Mike.” Davy said quietly, patting Mike on the shoulder. “I owe you.”

“I’ll make a note of it.” Mike replied dryly, causing everyone to chuckle, but the moment was broken as the sound of the dogs came to their ears.

“We can’t stay here.” Micky said, getting to his feet. “Which way now?”

“My map is useless.” Peter said with disgust, as he threw it away. “It led us into a trap.”

“Our maps are probably wrong too.” Mike replied, painfully standing as well, “The Captain isn’t going to give us a break.”

“We should at least try to head north.” Davy said as he and Peter stood up too. “That’s where the boat is docked.”

“If there’s a boat in the first place.” Micky said.

“Well, we gotta try.” Mike said, He started to reach inside his sack for the compass, then pulled his hand out. “The compasses will probably be wrong so…” He looked at his watch and then at the sky. “It’s the afternoon so the sun is setting in the west, so that way is north.” Mike pointed to the right.

“Then let’s go.” Micky said as the four unwilling participants in Captain Crocodile’s game moved on.

*

“Oh, there’s much more to come, Monkees.” Captain Crocodile sneered, watching them move on. He then put down his glass of wine and picked up a walkie-talkie.

“Calling task force one, calling task force one.” The captain said.

“Task force one here, boss.” A man’s voice answered.

“Your prey has escaped the pit and has gone off the path, heading north-north west.” The Captain replied.

“Thanks, boss.” The man replied. “The signal was growing weak.”

“And remember…just kill one of them at a time. It’s no fun if they all die at once.”

“You got it, boss.” The man replied, with an evil chuckle.

The Captain chuckled too and put the walkie-talkie down. He looked at the screen.

“Where are they now?” Captain Crocodile asked Howard.

“Not sure, Captain.” Howard replied, checking the other monitors. “They’ve gone into a densely wooded area where the cameras can’t see.”

“It doesn’t matter.” The captain replied, taking a puff of his cigar, “They’re bound to be spotted by one of the cameras soon. I want to see what happens when they think they’re safe.”

Howard nodded and went back to checking the monitors.

Meanwhile, the four Monkees stopped and threw themselves to the ground, exhausted. They had purposely gone into the deep woods where there would be less chance of cameras, but going off the path had made the travel much more difficult. They were all cut and scratched from pushing through the undergrowth.

“I don’t see any cameras here.” Mike panted as he looked up into the trees.

“He can’t have them everywhere.” Davy replied, gulping for air.

“Let’s rest here.” Micky told the others as they came to a small clearing.

The four men collapsed onto the ground, but keeping their eyes open for any traps. When all seemed clear, Peter spoke to the others.

“I’m really sorry about all this, fellas.” He said quietly, “I should’ve just thrown that letter from KXIU in the trash.”

“It’s not your fault, Peter.” Mike replied, “We all were suckered in at the thought of a free vacation.”

“If we hadn’t fallen for his trap, the Captain would’ve found another way to bring us here.” Micky added.

“I’m thirsty.” Davy said, reaching over for his sack. He was about to open the sack, when he felt something moving inside it. Davy quickly threw it to the side.

“What’s the matter, Davy?” Mike asked.

“There’s something alive inside my sack.” Davy replied with a gulp.

Mike, Peter and Micky carefully felt their own sacks but felt nothing suspicious.

“Our sacks appear to be ok, Davy.” Micky told him.

Carefully, Davy grabbed the bottom of his sack and flung it against a tree. The sack opened and a snake slithered out, hissing at the intrusion. The four Monkees stood up in fear as the snake hissed at them, then slithered away into the brush.

“A snake.” Peter stammered, “Captain Crocodile put a snake in Davy’s sack.”

“It’s a good thing you felt it moving, Davy.” Mike said, “It would’ve bit you if you had opened your sack.”

“And no doubt it was poisonous.” Micky added.

Peter just stood there with his head in his hands. Mike walked up to him.

“You ok, Peter?” Mike asked.

Peter looked up, his face wet with tears.

“This is too much, how can we survive if Captain Crocodile keeps this up?” Peter cried.

“Peter we are surviving, and we’re going to survive.” Davy said sternly, joining Mike, “We’ll get out of this and Captain Crocodile will be punished.”

“We outwitted him before and we’ll do it again.” Micky added, joining the others.

The four men came together and embraced in a group hug. When they parted, Mike spoke.

“I think we better check each of our sacks carefully before we go on.” He said.

So Mike took his sack and flung it against a tree. It opened and inside was a map, granola bars, a length of rope, and a canteen of water. Thankfully, there wasn’t a snake inside.

Peter did the same with his sack as Mike did. He had opened his sack before, but wasn’t taking any chances. Inside his sack was food and water, Peter having thrown away his map earlier.

Micky then tossed his sack open and found food, water, matches and a small black box about as big as cigarette pack. Frowning, he picked it up and looked at it. It felt warm and appeared to be slightly humming.

“I wonder what this is?” Micky asked.

Mike took it from Micky’s hand. “I think it’s a transmitter.”

“A transmitter?” Davy replied, “That means they can find us anywhere!”

“I think it’s time we started to be a little devious ourselves.” Micky said.

“What do you mean, Micky?” Peter asked.

Micky smiled and told the other Monkees his plan.

The men chasing the Monkees, all six of them and their dogs, came upon the clearing the Monkees had been in just a short time before. The signal from the transmitter had led them to this spot.

“Be careful now.” One of them said, looking at his homing device, “It appears they’ve stopped. They may be planning on making a stand.”

“They’re fools if they try.” One of the snickered, pulling out his pistol.

Another man spotted something in the clearing and began to walk over to it.

“Hey, they must’ve found the transmitter.” He said, disappointed, “They left it here on these leaves.”

“Watch out now Stu.” The man with the homing device said.

“Take it easy, John.” Stu said, walking over to the transmitter, “Those city boys…”

Stu got no further as his foot fell through a shallow hole hidden by the leaves. When he pulled his foot out, Stu saw that his foot caught on a noose, but it was too late; by pulling on the noose he had activated the trap. The noose, attached to a bent down sapling, pulled his foot forward made him loose his balance. His head hit the ground and he was out. The other men ran over to Stu, asking him if he was alright, but Stu was out cold.

“Very clever, boys.” John muttered to himself. It seemed these men they were chasing were going to offer a challenge. That was fine with him, he enjoyed the chase. Suddenly, his walkie-talkie came alive.

“Task Force one, This is the boss. I just found them again on my TV screens and all four of them are still alive!” Captain Crocodile shouted, “What are you men doing out there?”

“I have some bad news Boss.” John replied, “Stu hit his head and is out cold and those Monkees found the transmitter.”

“Oh well, it was only a matter of time before they found it.” The Captain replied, “Now go after the Monkees!”

“But Boss, Stu’s injured…” John said.

“I don’t care!” The Captain interrupted sharply, “Those boys are heading toward the canyon, now get after them!” The line went dead.

“Yes sir.” John replied, his military training taking over his feelings for his injured team mate. He looked at the other men with him.

“Prop him up against a tree and cover him with a blanket. We’re heading out.”

“We’re leaving him?” A man asked.

“We don’t have time to get him back to the resort, so let’s get a move on.” John answered.

The others did what John told them, and soon the men, now numbering five, were once again after the Monkees.

*

The trees began to thin out a bit as the Monkees made their way north. The land started to slope up as they climbed a tall hill. When they reached the summit, the four men cautiously pushed away the vegetation to find themselves at the ridge of a hill which gave them a beautiful view of the northern part of the island.

“Wow.” Peter said in awe.

Any other time, they would’ve stopped to enjoy the view, but now they had to keep moving. The slight sound of dogs barking could be heard once again, and the Monkees moved on.

In front of them, the land sloped down once again and ended at a large canyon, which split Boring Boring almost in two. On the other side of the canyon was the volcano that had caused the resort to close. Suddenly, there was a slight rumble. The Monkees stopped to look at the source of the sound. As they watched, steam began to rise from the top of the volcano.

“Looks like this volcano is becoming active too, just like Crackatoe.” Davy said frowning, “Just what we needed.”

“Where do we cross?” Mike asked, putting the matter aside.

“Over there.” Micky said, pointing to a rope bridge that stretched across the canyon.

Without a word, the four men started to move toward it.

“Wait, we can’t cross that bridge.” Davy exclaimed, coming to a halt, “There’s no telling what that fiend did to it.”

“We don’t have a choice, Davy.” Peter replied, “I don’t see any other way across or around.”

As the Monkees walked closer to the beginning of the bridge, a shot rang out. Looking behind them, they could see their pursuers, with their dogs and holding high-powered rifles, standing at the top of the ridge. The men on the ridge waved…then another shot rang out, this one hitting the wooden post holding up the left side of the bridge on their side.

The Monkees ducked behind the post as another shot stripped the wood from it.

“They’re playing with us.” Mike said, a catch in his voice, “Showing they could shoot us at any time.”

“We’re safe as long as we stay behind this post.” Micky said as another shot hit the post, but unknown to anyone, it also damaged the bridge support rope that was tied around it.

At the top of the ridge, John’s walkie-talkie came to life again.

“Quit fooling around out there!” Captain Crocodile’s voice shouted, “Force them over that bridge! Now!”

“Yes sir.” John replied, keeping the annoyance out of his voice. He motioned to the other men and they all began down the hill toward the bridge.

Down below, the Monkees saw the men coming toward them.

“We gotta move now!” Davy shouted.

“We can’t!” Peter shouted back, putting his fingers to his lips, “If we leave here we’ll be shot!”

“If we don’t, those blighters will still shoot us!” Davy came back.

“Davy’s right, let’s go!” Mike said. “But keep low!”

Just then, another shot slammed into the wooden post, fraying the support rope further. The Monkees ran across the bridge bent over, their arms over their heads.

In his control room, Captain Crocodile gleefully watched what the Monkees were doing.

“I wonder if any of you boys can swim?” He asked slowly. The Captain reached out to one of the buttons on the control panel, hovering his hand over it.

Meanwhile, the Monkees were running as fast as possible across the bridge. Suddenly, Micky’s foot went through one of the wooden slats. He managed to grab the rope railing just in time. Behind them, the men and their dogs were arriving at the beginning of the bridge.

With a maniacal laugh, Captain Crocodile slammed his hand down on the button.

On the bridge, there was an explosion, and the left wooden support post on the far side of the bridge (the side the Monkees were running toward) was destroyed! The bridge tilted dangerously on that side and the Monkees grabbed onto the right side rope railing to prevent themselves from falling. Davy’s hat went flying away over the side, as the four men held onto the bridge, paralyzed with fear.

“Go get them!” Captain Crocodile shouted over John’s walkie-talkie.

Without responding, John and his men began to slowly walk across the bridge.

*

The Monkees began to edge their way toward the far side of the canyon, hanging on to the rope railing. Behind them, John and his men began to taunt them.

“What’s the matter, boys?” John called over, “The bridge is still safe!”

“Yeah, real safe!” A man behind John yelled. He was a little bigger and heavier than the other men and he began to jump up and down on the bridge, causing it to buck up and down.

“Ahhh! Don’t do that!” Peter yelled, as he and his band mates clung to the railing.

“Don’t do what?” The man asked as he laughed and jumped up and down again on the wooden slats.

It was then that John noticed that the whole left side of the bridge, not just the one corner, was starting to sag. He looked back to see the left support rope around the post, damaged by the earlier gunfire, start to unravel due to the man’s jumping.

“Esteban, stop it!” John ordered, “You’re going to knock the whole side down!”

But Esteban was too busy jumping and taunting the Monkees to hear him. The other men in the group noticed it too, but before they could stop their friend, the rope came loose, causing the whole left side of the bridge to collapse.

Esteban realized what was happening a moment too late, and before he could grab on to something, he was thrown off the bridge, taking two of the tracking dogs with him. His screams were heard the whole way down to the river far below.

John and the other three men had managed to grab onto the right support rope in time. The watched in horror as Esteban and the dogs hit the water below.

Further down the bridge, the Monkees saw what had happened too. They had to get off that bridge now.

Keeping a tight grip on the support rope and gingerly putting one foot in front of the other on the wooden side of the bridge, they began to make their way across.

It didn’t take long for John and his men to recover from their shock. They grabbed their remaining dogs and began to cross the bridge the same way. Micky, the last one in line, looked back to see they were still being followed.

“Hurry!” He told his friends.

“We’re going as fast as we can, Micky.” Peter said, trying not to look down. The support rope on the other side was starting to fray from the extra weight.

Micky fumbled one-handed with his knapsack and finally managed to pull out his knife. He placed its sharp edge on the upper support rope between him and Captain Crocodile’s men.

“Hold it right there!” He shouted at them. “Move any further and I’ll cut the rope!”

The men behind Micky stopped in their tracks. John glared at Micky.

“You wouldn’t dare!” He shouted back, trying to hang onto the rope and his whining dog as well.

“Why not?” Micky replied, “You’ve been trying to kill me and my friends!”

Behind John, one of the men tried to reach for his gun inside his pocket.

“Stop that!” Mike yelled from next to Micky. He too had his knife out and had its blade against the lower support rope. “Keep your hands where we can see them.” The man pulled his hand away from his pocket.

“What do you want?” John yelled over.

“Throw your weapons into the river, now!” Micky yelled back.

When the men hesitated, Micky began to saw the support rope with his knife.

“Do as he says.” John quickly told the others.

John and his men threw their guns down into the river.

“Now you guys just stay right there, until the four of us get across.” Mike demanded.

Mike and Micky, preceded by Peter and Davy, slowly worked their way across the broken bridge. Micky and Mike kept their knives close to the support ropes the whole time.

“You boys are going to pay for this.” John told them as the Monkees finally stepped onto solid ground.

“You’re working for a maniac, you know that?” Davy told them. “Do you think he’ll let you live after all this is over?”

“There used to be six of you, now there’s only four.” Peter added, “Captain Crocodile is an evil man who doesn’t care about you.”

“He pays well.” John said cynically.

“Let’s go.” Mike said, and the four Monkees ran off as fast as they could into the forest in front of them.

John and his remaining men and their dogs scrambled across the bridge and soon were standing on solid ground too.

“What now, John?” One of the men asked him.

“Let’s go after them!” Another man said angrily.

John looked at the sky, and noticed it would be dark soon. He made a decision.

“We’ll make camp, rest and go over our remaining supplies.” He said, “Then we continue after them. I doubt they’ll be able to make much progress in the dark.”

“But John…” The second man said.

“But nothing!” John shouted at him. “I’m the leader of this expedition and I’ll decide what to do, not the Captain who’s sitting safely in his little office.”

When there was no further argument, John continued, “Like I said, we need to rest and get ready for tomorrow. I’m sure you gentlemen didn’t throw all your weapons away?” He added with a smile as he pulled a pistol out of his shin holder.

The other men chuckled and pulled out their hidden weapons too. Despite this setback, they were still quite armed, dangerous and even more determined to get the Monkees.

Inside Captain Crocodile’s control room, the Captain was beside himself with rage.

“NO NO NO!” He howled, throwing his empty wine glass at the monitor, “They’re all still alive!”

“Captain, take it easy!” Howard said, trying to placate him.

“Take it easy? Take it easy?” The Captain screamed, grabbing Howard by his throat and shaking him. “They’re more than half-way across the island and they’re all still alive!”

“They’re just lucky, Captain, just dumb luck.” Howard gasped, trying to pry the Captain’s hands from his throat.

Captain Crocodile finally pushed his assistant away. With great effort he calmed down enough to talk in a normal tone of voice.

“Oh yes, Howie, they’ve been very lucky.” The Captain replied, “But their luck has now run out.”

“What do you mean Captain?” Howard asked, rubbing his throat.

“I mean tomorrow we will go out there ourselves…and make sure those Monkees don’t see the light of another day.” The Captain replied, his eyes dark with hate.

*

Micky, Mike, Peter and Davy dragged themselves upward through a wooded area. They were hungry, thirsty and exhausted from the constant running. Mike’s back started to hurt from the arrow that had sliced across it earlier. After awhile, the four men came across a small cave inside the hill, partially covered with vines.

“I can’t go on.” Davy gasped, “Let’s stop here.”

“It’s getting dark.” Peter said, “Maybe we can hide here for the night.”

Mike and Micky nodded and, crouching down, led the others inside. After a few feet, the cave opened up and they were able to half-stand in the open area.

“This is a good place as any.” Mike said, wincing at the pain in his back.

The Monkees collapsed onto the ground, listening for any signs of their pursuers. Fortunately, all seemed quiet, no sound of the dogs barking.

“Oh my back.” Mike groaned.

“Let me look.” Davy said, moving behind Mike. He gently pulled Mike’s shirt away from the cut. The area around the cut was red and the cut itself was bleeding a little.

“You need to put something on that, Mike.” Davy said quietly, “But there’s nothing in our sacks.”

“Use the water then.” Mike replied.

“Yeah, I can use some water right now.” Micky said, pulling his canteen from his sack.

“No, we can’t.” Mike told him. “I wouldn’t put it past the Captain to drug our water.”

“Mike’s right.” Peter put in, “We can’t take anything for granted.”

“But you want Davy to put some on your cut.” Micky protested.

Mike looked down at the ground. “You’re right, Micky. Never mind, Davy. I’ll just have to suffer with this.”

“Just a little couldn’t hurt, Mike.” Davy replied.

“No. I don’t want anybody drinking or using any water or the food. Understood?”

The other three reluctantly nodded their heads.

“Well, let’s try and get some sleep.” Mike said, “We should move on before dawn.”

“We should sleep in shifts.” Micky stated, “In case those guys come around.”

“At least they won’t have their guns anymore.” Peter said. “Too bad you didn’t make them give us their supplies, Micky.”

“I was a little rushed there, Peter.” Micky said, annoyed.

“Easy, Micky.” Davy put in, “No one’s criticizing you, in fact we’re grateful for what you and Mike did at the bridge.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry Micky.” Peter added, “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“It’s ok, Peter.” Micky replied, “I just can’t believe I threatened to cut that rope.”

“I was helping you, Micky. It was self-defense.” Mike said gently, “They would’ve done it to us.”

“True…but I wonder if I really would’ve cut that rope.” Micky replied quietly.

“At least you or I never got the chance to find out.” Mike said, who had privately been thinking the same thing about himself.

“Well, let’s get to sleep.” Micky told the others, changing the subject.

“I’ll take first watch.” Davy volunteered. “Two hours, then I’ll wake Peter.”

The others agreed and Micky gave Davy the matches from his knapsack so Davy could look at his watch every so often. Then Micky, Mike and Peter got as comfortable as they could on the hard ground, using their knapsacks as pillows. It wasn’t long before all three of them were asleep. Davy carefully crawled over to the cave entrance and looked around the hillside. Above him, Mount Boring Boring gave a quiet rumble. Below him, he could make out a campfire. No doubt it was from their pursuers’ camp, Davy thought to himself. Those men could light a fire, they’re not worried about us. They probably have all the food and water they want too.

Frowning, Davy went back inside the cave and lit a match. Noting the time, he blew out the flame and went over to the cave entrance again to keep watch.

Down below, John and his men set up their camp, then heated up food over the campfire. Unlike the Monkees they had plenty of supplies and sleeping bags too. After eating, John and his men set up a watch in case their quarry decided to try something.

Finally, John and his men went to sleep, confident they would catch the Monkees tomorrow.

Back in the cave, Davy tried hard to stay awake. His throat was parched and his stomach was rumbling, but he remembered Mike’s warning and tried to put his hunger and thirst aside. Lighting another match, Davy noticed his two-hour watch was almost over. He was about to wake Peter when his hand brushed against his canteen. Davy picked it up and shook it. He could hear the water sloshing around.

One sip can’t hurt, Davy thought to himself as he unscrewed the canteen’s top. He took a small sip, and when nothing happened, he took a longer drink. Feeling a little better, Davy screwed the canteen’s top back on and woke Peter.

“Is it two hours already?” Peter whispered.

“Yeah it is.” Davy replied. “Here take the matches so you can see the time.” He yawned, then said, “Those blighters have a camp below us, so don’t let them see the flame or make any noise.”

“Ok Davy, good night.” Peter said.

“Night, mate.” Davy said, lying down then quickly falling asleep.

*

After two hours, Peter quietly woke Micky, who after his two hours were up, woke up Mike for his shift.

As Mike’s two hours came to an end, he noticed the top edge of the sun was just beginning to make its way over the horizon. It was time to go.

Carefully, he crept over to Peter and shook him awake, putting his hand over Peter’s mouth in case Peter cried out. When Peter indicated he was awake, Mike went over to Micky and did the same thing. Micky finally nodded his head to say he was awake too. Finally, Mike went over to Davy to get him up. He shook Davy’s arm and had his other hand ready to put over Davy’s mouth in case Davy made any noise. However, Davy wasn’t responding at all.

“Davy, wake up.” Mike whispered in Davy’s ear after several seconds. Still, Davy gave no indication of hearing Mike or having his arm tugged.

“Davy, we know you’re tired, but we have to go.” Micky said quietly, tugging on Davy’s other arm. Still, there was no reaction from Davy whatsoever.

“Oh no.” Mike breathed, bending down to put his ear on Davy’s chest. To his relief, Mike could hear Davy’s slow and steady breathing and heartbeat.

“He’s alive, at least.” Mike said.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, beginning to panic, “What’s wrong with Davy?”

“I don’t know.” Mike answered, “Did he wake you for your shift? Was he ok then?”

“Yes and yes.” Peter replied, frightened, “He seemed to be ok.”

“Lets sit him up.” Mike ordered the others. As they did, Davy’s canteen, which was near his hand, slid to the ground. The three Monkees looked at each other.

“Do you think…?” Micky asked.

Mike picked up Davy’s canteen and shook it. The water sloshing around told Mike it was only about half-full.

“He must’ve drank from his canteen.” Mike stated, his face getting dark, “I told him not to.”

“You were right, Mike.” Peter said, hand over his mouth, “The Captain did drug our water.”

“What are we gonna do now?” Micky asked, “Those guys are going to come after us again soon.”

“Davy. Davy!” Mike said, louder than before. “I hate to do this…” Mike whispered, then slapped Davy across the face.

Mike was rewarded with a groan from his English friend.

“Davy, you gotta wake up!” Micky cried.

“So…tired…” Davy whispered, his eyes closed.

“You drank some water, didn’t you?” Mike demanded, shaking Davy, “I told you not to drink anything.”

“Sorry.” Davy whispered, “So…thirsty.”

“We can talk about this later…if there is a later.” Peter said, “It’s getting lighter outside.”

“We’ll have to carry him.” Micky said.

“I got an idea.” Mike told the other two. He grabbed his canteen, opened it, then poured its contents on Davy’s head. Micky and Peter did the same with their canteens, along with Davy’s as well, making sure none of the water went into Davy’s mouth.

The cold water bath helped Davy a bit. He was finally able to open his eyes and move a little.

“Any better, Davy?” Peter asked.

“I can barely keep my eyes open.” Davy replied, “And my body feels like lead.”

“Must’ve been some powerful drug in that water.” Micky remarked.

“You three go on without me.” Davy told his friends, “I’ll just slow you down.”

“Not a chance, Davy.” Mike said, “We’re going to make it out of this together.” He looked at Peter and Micky. “Let’s gather up our stuff.”

Down below, John was taking the last shift before dawn, when his dog sat up and began to growl. John grabbed his gun and aimed it where his dog was looking.

“Get up.” He told the man closest to him, nudging him with the toe of his boot.

The other man was up instantly and woke the other two.

Suddenly coming into the clearing was none other than Captain Crocodile, Howard and Stu. The Captain and Howard had gotten up long before dawn and took the long way to get around the large canyon. The insane kiddy-show host and his companion were dressed in camouflage, wearing backpacks, and carried machine guns.

“Put your gun down, it’s only us.” The Captain ordered, “I even brought you friend back to you.”

“You ok, Stu?” John asked, lowering his gun.

“Got a lump on my head, but I’ll be alright.” Stu replied.

“Now that the pleasantries are over, where are the Monkees, hmmm?” The Captain asked.

“Up there, boss.” John replied, pointing to the mountain in front of them. “No doubt hiding from us.”

“No doubt. So let’s get moving.”

“You’re coming with us?” John asked in surprise.

“Oh yes. Seeing how they eluded your grasp yesterday I figured it would be best If I took charge of the matter. The cameras are still rolling. Besides…” The Captain’s eyes gleamed, “This is one show I would just love see in person.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” John replied.

“Oh and another thing.” The Captain added, “I’ll give a one thousand dollar bonus to whomever kills the first one.”

“Sounds good to us, boss.” John smiled and then quickly gathered up his gear with the others.

Within a minute, the party was on its way. Far above, Mount Boring Boring gave an ominous rumble.

*

Micky, Mike and Peter managed to pull Davy out of the cave. By now, the sun was half-way over the horizon.

“Which way, Mike?” Micky asked.

Mike pulled out his compass. “North is that way.” He said, pointing up the mountain, “Let’s try and skirt around. I don’t like being on an active volcano.”

The other two Monkees agreed and then put Davy into the sling they had quickly improvised. They had emptied Davy’s sack and tore handles into the sides. Davy now sat on the sack and Mike and Micky picked the four corners of the sack, while Peter held Davy’s legs. It was in this fashion that they began to trek around the volcano.

It wasn’t long before the dogs picked up the trail once again. The going was a lot harder now, with the terrain becoming more steep and rocky. The captain and his five men had little problem, but Howard was beginning to lag behind.

“Slow down, Captain.” He gasped.

“Never.” The Captain growled, pulling Howard up to him, “I will not slow down until those Monkees are dead.” The Captain pulled a length of rope out of his sack and tied one end around his waist and the other around Howard’s waist.

“Now, let’s get going.” The Captain demanded of his companion. He turned and continued up Boring Boring, dragging the hapless Howard behind him.

The volcano above both groups rumbled again and steam began to drift from the top. At first, it was only a little bit, but soon the steam began to pour out. The Monkees looked above them.

“This is not good.” Mike stated.

“I would consider that the understatement of the year, Mike.” Micky replied.

“Let’s keep moving.” Peter said, “And try to head down as much as possible. We should go back into the trees where they can’t see us.”

Micky and Mike took Peter’s advice and they tried to move as quickly as possible.

The Monkees’ luck ran out however, when they were spotted by Captain Crocodile through his binoculars.

“There they are!” He shouted, “Just above and ahead of us!”

The Captain and his men quickened their pace even faster, and Howard was just barely able to keep up. The Monkees saw the Captain’s men climbing after them. Mike grabbed a rock and threw it at the Captain. It missed him completely, but the Captain was enraged.

“Die, Monkees!” He screamed, pulling his machine gun to the front. He opened fire, but fortunately the Captain was just out of range. Rocks and dirt were thrown up below them, but the Monkees weren’t hit.

But near an overhang of rocks, Micky lost his footing, and pulled the other three Monkees to the ground.

“Now I have you, Monkees.” The Captain sneered as he and his men drew close. They pulled out their guns. There was no way they could miss now…

Suddenly, there was a huge boom and the ground shook violently. Everyone looked up to see Mount Boring Boring blow its top. There wasn’t any lava, but a huge plume of smoke and ash. One side of the crater’s lip was blown away…and it caused an avalanche. And this avalanche was heading right for the Monkees and Captain Crocodile’s men.

“Oh…my…” Mike breathed, his eyes wide with terror.

“The rocks.” Davy said, pointing to the overhang of rocks in front of them. “Hurry!”

Mike, Peter and Micky picked Davy up and carried him under the overhang. Captain Crocodile and his men, however, had no place to hide.

“Run, run!” Howard shouted, as the Captain and the others looked at the approaching avalanche in terror. He tried to run, but was still tied to the captain.

“Come on, Captain!” Howard screamed.

The Captain and the others were finally jolted out of their stupor and began to run down the mountain. They didn’t get very far before the rocks, ash and debris caught up with them. John, Stu and the dogs were buried instantly while the others were dragged along.

The Monkees however were safe as the overhang of rock acting like an umbrella and protected them from the falling rocks. They huddled together and watched in horror as the Captain and the others were swept away.

After several very long minutes, the avalanche was over. Cautiously, the Monkees poked their heads out from under the overhang and looked around. There was no sign of the Captain, Howard or any of his men.

*

As they were being dragged down the Mountain, the Captain managed to grab a hold of a tree. Howard was somehow still attached to him and was also saved. The three remaining men swept by him, but the Captain made no effort to help them. The force of the avalanche however, was still trying to pull Howard down. Since he was still tied to the Captain, the Captain was being pulled down too. He could feel his hands losing their grip on the tree.

“Captain, help!” Howard shouted.

“Help yourself, moron!” The Captain shouted back, “You’re pulling me with you!”

“Pull me up, Captain!” Howard replied.

Instead the Captain pulled a knife out of his pocket.

“What are you doing, Captain?” Howard screamed.

“I’m going to give you the cut I promised, Howie.” The Captain smiled, as he began to cut the rope attaching him to Howard.

“NO, CAPTAIN!” Howard shouted in terror.

But the Captain cut the rope and with a scream Howard was dragged away by the avalanche and out of sight.

“Survival of the fittest, Howie.” The Captain said, putting away the knife. Now that he didn’t have Howard pulling him down, he was able to get a better grip on the tree and waited until the avalanche had passed.

The Monkees pulled themselves out from under the overhang and looked around. Smoke and ash still hung heavily in the air but there was no sign of further avalanches. Mike, Peter, Davy and Micky looked at each other, not saying a word. What was there to say? This turn of events was so sudden, they were in shock.

“Let’s go.” Mike said finally, then looked at Davy. “Want us to carry you?”

“No, I think I can walk…with help.” Davy replied, coughing.

Mike and Micky each took one of Davy’s arms and helped him along, while Peter led the way.

Finally, they were able to descend down the Mountain, passed the flattened trees and down to a plain. Mount Boring Boring still rumbled behind them. As they made their way through the land, the trees cleared and the ground became a sandy beach. More importantly, sitting on the edge of the beach, as promised, was a small motorboat!

“A boat! A boat!” Peter shouted, raising his hands in triumph.

“Take it easy Peter.” Micky said, “Even though the Captain is dead, he could still have his traps set.”

Mount Boring Boring rumbled again, sending more and more smoke and ash into the sky. Pieces of rock fell around them and onto the beach. Mike picked up one of the rocks and threw it onto the beach in front of them. He picked up another rock and did it again.

“What are you doing, Mike?” Davy asked.

“Checking for landmines.” Mike replied, picking up another rock. “I saw this in a war movie once.”

While Micky held Davy up, Peter and Mike threw rocks onto the beach where they would have to walk to get to the boat. To their amazement, there were no explosions.

“I guess it’s safe…” Mike said to the others, “But lets be careful. Only walk where we threw the rocks.”

So the four men quietly and on tip-toe made their way across the sand and over to the boat. There wasn’t much to it; just a wooden boat with an outboard motor attached to the back. Mike pushed it out a little ways into the shallows.

“Stand back.” He told the other three. Then, while standing outside the boat in the water, Mike pulled the ripcord to start the motor, then jumped away. The Motor sputtered then stopped. Mike waded back over to the boat, pulled the cord again, and jumped back in case the motor exploded. This time the motor roared to life and Mike held onto the boat to make sure it didn’t zoom away.

“Is it safe, Mike?” Peter called to him.

“Yeah, the boat looks seaworthy and the motor didn’t blow up on us, so come on!” Mike called back.

Micky picked up the still-drowsy Davy and carried him over to the boat, with Peter a step behind them.

Mount Boring Boring belched more rocks and ash into the sky, with some rocks landing on the beach again. This time, as a fair-sized rock hit the beach, the sand exploded!

The four Monkees looked at each other. So the beach had been sowed with landmines! It had only been by the greatest of luck that they had not stepped on one. Without a word, the Monkees climbed inside the boat. Peter and Micky put Davy between them on the single bench in the front, while Mike sat on the small bench next to the motor. He powered the motor up as far as it would go and the boat roared away. The Monkees were finally free of Boring Boring Island.

As the island began to recede behind them, the four men began to relax.

“It’s over, guys.” Peter said smiling, “We did it. We survived Captain Crocodile’s TV show.”

“But the Captain didn’t. How ironic that he died on his own TV show.” Mike replied, glancing back at the island. “In front of the cameras that he loved.”

“Well, hello there you meddling Monkees!” Came the voice of Captain Crocodile.

The voice so startled them, the Monkees jumped up and nearly capsized the boat.

“Where…where is he?” Peter asked, hugging Davy and Micky.

The Monkees looked all around, but they were the only ones in the boat, and there was nobody else around them, not a boat in sight.

“So I see at least one of you has managed to survive my reality TV show.” The Captain’s voice continued. “But the show is now reaching its end. Time for the grand finale!”

Micky looked under the front bench and saw a small tape recorder and speaker.

“It’s coming from here!” He shouted.

“Must’ve been on a timer to activate once we had started the motor.” Mike replied.

“Did you really think I would let any of you boys live to tell anyone about this?” The Captain’s voice mocked, “Now it is game over, Monkees…and you lose! HA HA HA!”

It was then that Peter noticed the water gathering at his feet. Looking at the bow, he saw water coming in between the wooden planks where the sides met the bottom.

“There’s water coming in!” Peter exclaimed, pointing at the bow.

“By now I assume you’ve noticed the water coming into the boat via the wooden slats I neglected to caulk.” The Captain’s voice continued. “Do any of you know how to swim?”

“Turn us around, Mike!” Micky shouted to him. “Head back to shore!”

“Don’t think you’ll make it back to shore.” The Captain’s voice spoke once again, obviously anticipating what the Monkees might do. “I’ve arranged for you to meet some denizens of the deep!”

It was then they finally noticed the red water trailing them. It was coming from a box hidden behind the propeller. There was a breeze and the Monkees could now smell it. It was blood.

Mike turned the rudder and powered the motor to high, sending the boat back toward the island. The water began to come in faster and soon everyone was ankle-deep in the bloody water.

“Hurry, Mike!” Davy exclaimed, as he saw a fin in the water. “Sharks are coming!”
“I’ve got it cranked to the max!” Mike shouted back.

Other shark fins joined the first as the Monkees’ boat sank lower and lower into the water, still far from shore.

“Goodbye, Monkees!” The voice of Captain Crocodile shouted.

*

As Mount Boring Boring was erupting, there was a large yacht slowly sailing past the island. Standing at the rail was a man and a woman, with a young boy about fourteen years old standing between them. They stared in fascination as the volcano erupted before them.

“Wow, I never saw a volcano erupt before, Dad.” The young boy said in awe, as he looked at the volcano with his binoculars.

“Neither have I, junior.” His Dad replied, looking down at the book in his hand. “It says in this guide book that Boring Boring got its name because it had been dormant its whole life.”

“Yes, this makes up for that long boring trip from Australia.” The woman added, nodding her head.

“Oh Gracie,” The man said, “A long ocean voyage is good for you…”

The yacht’s captain walked over, interrupting anything else the man might have said.

“Mister Pinter, sir?”

“Yes, Captain?” Mister Pinter replied, turning from the rail.

“I must insist we put more distance between us and that volcano.” He said, “We are much too close for comfort.”

“Very well, Captain.” Mister Pinter replied, “Let’s continue our journey home.”

“Yes sir.” The captain replied, then left.

“Can’t we circle just one more time, Dad?” The boy asked.

“No junior.” His Dad said, “The captain thinks it’s too dangerous.”

“You’ll still be able to see the volcano from far away with those binoculars.” His mother added.

“I suppose so.” Junior replied, crestfallen.

The yacht’s motor rumbled and the yacht began to pick up speed. As it rounded an island cove to head to the mainland, Junior Pinter raised his binoculars. As he followed an avalanche on its way down, his eyes caught a glimpse of something in the water.

To his surprise, there was a small boat there, making its way toward shore. He brought the binoculars down and pointed to the boat.

“Mom, Dad look!” Junior exclaimed, “There’s a boat!”

“A boat? What is it doing there?” His Dad asked. “Don’t they know how dangerous it is?”

“Maybe it’s geologists who came to observe the eruption.” His wife replied.

The Monkees had climbed up onto the seats to try and keep from getting wet. Sharks were beginning to bump into the boat. Micky grabbed the tape recorder from under the bench and threw it at the nearest shark. It hit its fin and it swerved away. The motor was beginning to sputter as the water began to invade the engine housing..

“We’re not gonna make it.” Davy whispered.

Peter looked behind him and to his surprise, there was a yacht not too far away!

“Hey, it’s a boat! We’re saved!” He yelled, standing up on the bench, “HEY! HELP!” He yelled, waving his arms.

Micky and Davy yelled too, while Mike concentrated on keeping the motor running.

Junior brought the binoculars up to his eyes once again. This time he focused on the boat. To his shock, it seemed the people in the boat were in trouble. Their boat was clearly sinking fast, and the men on board were waving at them!

“Those people are in trouble!” He shouted, “Their boat is sinking!”

“What?” His Dad replied. He took the binoculars from his son and took a look.

“You’re right, junior.” He said, then called out to the captain, who came running.

“What’s the matter, sir?” He asked.

“Turn this yacht around and launch a rescue boat. There’s a boat out there that’s about to sink.”

“Yes sir.” The captain replied, then ran off to give the orders.

Junior took the binoculars from his Dad and looked once again.

“Those men look familiar…” He said quietly.

The yacht swung around as fast as it could, as the crew members got ready to launch the small powerboat attached to its side.

On the Monkees’ boat, the four men watched with relief as the yacht turned toward them.

“We’re saved!” Peter shouted.

Mike tried to turn the boat back toward the yacht, but just then the motor died.

“Not if they don’t get here in time, Peter.” Mike replied.

“We can’t get too close to shore, Mr. Pinter.” The captain told him, “The water is too shallow. But we’ll have the powerboat ready soon.”

“Hurry!” Junior told him forcefully, “I think I know those men.”

“You do?” His mom asked.

“They’re the Monkees.” Junior replied, “They once appeared on the Captain Crocodile show.”

“Oh, I remember that.” His dad said, shaking his head, “I gave you that show for your birthday.”

“Yeah, but that Captain Crocodile was such a loser.” Junior replied.

“What a coincidence that those boys would be here.” His Mom remarked.

“Full stop!” The captain, who was standing at the bow, called out to his first mate.

“Full stop, aye sir!” The first mate replied.

“We’re as close as we can get Mr. Pinter.” The Captain told him, “We’re launching the boat.”

As he spoke, the crew was lowering the motor boat to the water with a winch. Two crewmen climbed aboard as it touched the water.

“I want to come with them.” Junior said, starting to run toward the boat.

“No, Junior stay here.” His dad said, “It could be dangerous.”

Junior frowned but walked back over to his parents.

The water was almost over the lip of the Monkees’ boat as the Pinter’s powerboat zoomed over to them. The four men had tried bailing, but the water was simply coming in too fast.

Now, the water engulfed their boat and it slid away under them, dropping the Monkees into the water. They grabbed onto each other, and managed to keep their heads above water. Fortunately, only a few seconds later, a crewman from Pinter’s boat threw them life preservers.

“Stay calm, we’ll have you on board in a minute.” He said.

“Stay calm?” Micky exclaimed, “There are sharks in the water!”

Peter cried out as a shark brushed his leg. “Get us out of here! Please!”

The two crewmen grabbed the men and pulled them aboard as fast as possible. As Mike scrambled aboard, a shark, sensing a meal getting away, grabbed his pant leg! It then tried to pull him back into the water!

“Oh no you don’t!” Davy cried, leaning down and punching the shark in the eye.

With a roar, the shark pulled away, ripping a large piece of cloth from Mike’s pant leg, and cutting his leg in the process. Davy then helped pull Mike into the boat once again.

“Thanks, Davy.” Mike gasped, grabbing his leg.

“Just repaying a debt, mate.” Davy smiled.

“Are you gentlemen alright?” One of the crewmen asked.

“We are now.” Peter said, brushing the wet hair from his eyes, “But Mike’s going to need some help.”

“You’re lucky we were in the area,” The other crewman said as he started the boat’s motor, “Otherwise, you’d be shark food.”

“Your coming has been the first bit of good luck we’ve had in days.” Davy replied.

The crewman nodded and set the boat back toward the yacht.

Once they were helped aboard the yacht, the Monkees got another surprise when they saw Junior Pinter standing there waiting for them.

“I was right, you are the Monkees!” He exclaimed.

“Junior Pinter?” Micky asked.

“Yes, and welcome aboard my parents’ yacht, The Surprise.” He replied.

The Monkees could only look at each other.

“This is too much.” Davy said, “Ok, where is he?”

“Where is who, young man?” Mister Pinter asked, walking over to his son.

“Captain Crocodile.” Davy replied. “He lured us to Boring Boring and forced us to run for our lives while he filmed it, and now we just happened to get rescued by you lot.”

“What are you talking about?” Junior replied.

“We’re just returning from a long, and might I add, boring cruise from Australia.” Mrs. Pinter added, “We stopped to watch the volcano erupt when Junior spotted your boat sinking.”

“So this isn’t another part of his game?” Mike asked, looking around.

“I think you gentlemen better come into the lounge.” Junior said, “And tell us what is going on.”

The Monkees agreed and followed the Pinters inside. Once there, Mr. Pinter told the Captain to get them underway again.

“We’re having a bit of trouble with the winch, sir.” He replied, “We can’t get the powerboat aboard. It’ll only take a few minutes to fix, then we can leave.”

“Very well.” Mister Pinter replied.

Inside the spacious lounge just a few steps from the deck, the Monkees were given blankets and hot coffee. A crewman put a bandage around Mike’s leg. Then, they began to tell the whole story of how they had been tricked into coming to Boring Boring and forced to perform for his ‘reality’ TV show or die.

“I can’t believe this.” Mr. Pinter said, shaking his head, “I knew he was a bit unstable, but this…”

“I wonder if Judy getting shot has anything to do with this.” Junior wondered as he stood at the lounge door leading onto the deck.

“Judy your secretary?” Micky asked.

Junior nodded sadly. “Yes, every few days my Dad receives radio messages from his office. Yesterday, he was told Judy had been shot at her desk.”

“Is she ok?” Mike asked.

“Last we had heard she was. Fortunately, the janitor found her and called the ambulance.” Mister Pinter replied, “He’s going to medical school and was able to stem the bleeding until the paramedics came.”

“That’s good.” Peter replied, “She’s must’ve been in on the Captain’s plot. She gave us the resort tickets.”

“And no doubt typed that letter to us too.” Davy added, “Using KXIU stationary to make it all seem legit.”

“Well, it’s all over now.” Micky said in the silence, “He and Howie probably died in that avalanche.”

“Yes, he will not be bothering you gentlemen ever again.” Junior replied.

“Think so, Junior?” A harsh voice said behind him.

Junior spun around to see the dirty, bloody and ragged figure of Captain Crocodile standing there, his camouflage outfit in tatters. There was a knife in his hand.

“Captain Crocodile!” Junior exclaimed.

“Glad to see you remember your former underling, Junior.” The Captain smiled nastily, “You’ve grown since I last saw you.”

“You…you’re dead!” Peter stammered, pointing a finger at the Captain.

“No not yet, dummy.” The Captain snarled, stepping further into the room. “Thanks to a tree and Howie’s gallant sacrifice, I’m still alive.” The Captain took another step into the lounge. “And ready to start a new game!”

Suddenly, the Captain lunged, grabbed Junior by the collar of his shirt and pulled the boy to him. Junior tried to get away, but the Captain then put the knife to his throat.

“Nobody move!” The Captain shouted, his voice on the edge of hysteria, “Or I’ll kill him!”

“Let him go, now!” Mister Pinter shouted.

“You’re through giving orders, Pinter!” Captain Crocodile screamed, “Now I’m giving YOU an order! I want one million, no TEN million dollars ransom, or you’ll never see your little brat again!”

“Give it up it’s over, Captain!” Mike exclaimed, “We survived your game and you lost!”

“I never lose!” The Captain shouted back, “I will have my revenge on all of you for ruining me!”

By now the Captain and the crew, hearing the shouting, were at the door.

“Get away from the door.” Captain Crocodile ordered Pinter’s captain and crew. They slowly backed away as the Captain dragged Junior out the door and onto the deck.

“Take me instead!” Mr. Pinter said, following them “Let Junior go!”

The Captain just laughed and continued to drag Junior over to the rail.

“I’ll let you know where and when to leave the money, Pinter.” The Captain said, “And if you radio the shore authorities ahead of me, your son will regret it.”

“How are you going to leave?” Micky asked.

“I’ll use my own powerboat.” The Captain replied, “I used it to get here and sneak aboard while this incompetent crew were working on the winch.”

Sure enough, there was a another powerboat docked next to the ladder.

“And as for you, you miserable Monkees, you long-haired freaks! You’re not off the hook!” The Captain yelled, “Oh no, I’ll be back after you again! Someday, somehow, when you least expect it, POW! You’ll feel my wrath!”

But it was nature who decided to unleash its wrath instead. Just then, the tectonic plates beneath Boring Boring and Krackatoe shifted. It caused a tremendous underwater earthquake which could be felt by everyone on the yacht. The earthquake caused a tidal wave which suddenly heaved up beneath them, pulling the anchor out of its mooring and knocking the yacht around like it was a toy boat in a bathtub. Everyone, including the Captain and Junior, were soaked by the water, knocked off their feet and thrown to the deck.

The bouncing deck caused Junior and the Captain’s knife to slide in opposite directions. The Captain managed to climb to his feet and grab his knife, which almost slid into the water. He tried to go after Junior again, but found it was very hard to keep his balance on the swaying, bouncing yacht. The Monkees saw what the Captain was trying to do and grabbed Junior first. Micky and Mike pushed him back into the safety of the lounge, while Peter and Davy tried to block the Captain. The Monkees then shut the door and planted themselves in front of it to prevent the Captain from following.

With a look of pure hatred at the Monkees, the Captain stumbled over to the ladder for his powerboat…only to find it had come detached from the yacht and was now floating several yards away. Desperate now, the Captain ran for the Pinter’s powerboat still floating and attached to the yacht by the winch wire. One of the crewmen made a grab for him, but the Captain slashed his knife at the crewman.

“Let him go!” Mr. Pinter ordered as everyone got to their feet.

The Captain slid down the wire and onto the powerboat. He undid the wires connecting the boat to the winch and then fired up the engine.

“I’ll be back!” He shouted, “There will be a re-run of this episode!”

The Captain put the powerboat in gear and it began to zoom away.

Again, the Captain’s words were prophetic. Another underwater earthquake happened, stronger than before. This time it caused both Boring Boring and Krackatoe to erupt, plus unleash another tidal wave.

The occupants of Pinter’s yacht were knocked down again, but it was much worse for Captain Crocodile. His little boat was tossed end over end by the wave, and he was thrown into the water.

Everyone on Pinter’s yacht got to their feet to see what had happened to the Captain. Junior ran out of the lounge and over to his parents.

“Is everyone alright?” Mr. Pinter yelled.

“All accounted for, Mr. Pinter.” The yacht’s captain replied.

“What happened to him?” Junior asked, “Where did the Captain go?”

Everyone looked in the area where he had been heading but saw nothing. Then Davy noticed a human figure on the water.

“There he is!” Davy exclaimed.

Mister Pinter trained his binoculars to where Davy was pointing.

The Captain was bobbing up and down on the choppy water. His powerboat had been sunk by the waves. He was frantically waving for help.

“Help! I can’t swim!” He screamed over the roar of the volcano.

“Hard to port!” Pinter’s captain told his crew, “Let’s pluck that crocodile out of the water.”

“Aye sir!” A crewman replied.

As Captain Crocodile watched the yacht move toward him, he laughed to himself.

“Oh yes, you all think you’ve won, haven’t you?” He said giddily, “I’ll play the remorseful and sorrowful figure for you…I’m such a good actor, aren’t I, Howie?” He looked around, “Oh that’s right, I killed him.” He sighed, “Dear me, and he was my biggest fan too.”

Suddenly, the Captain felt something tug at his tattered pant leg.

“Is that you, Howie?” He asked, “Oh it can’t be, he’s dead, they’re all dead, except for the Monkees…”

Another tug on his leg, this time harder.

“What’s going on?” The Captain asked, then saw the shark fins in the water. “Oh no! Go away!” He shouted, “I can’t be bothered by you! I have to plan my triumphant return to television!”

But the sharks, disturbed by the heaving water, were grabbing at anything that moved. The captain splashed around in the water, trying to drive the sharks away.

“No, go away, leave me alone!” He shouted more and more frantically as the sharks began to bite him.

On board the yacht, Mr. Pinter spotted what was going on through his binoculars.

“Hurry! There’s sharks out there!”

“We’re at full speed sir!” A crewman replied.

Then to everyone’s horror, the Captain gave a horrible scream as he was suddenly pulled underwater…and he did not resurface. Seconds later, there was a pool of blood where he once floated.

Grace Pinter quickly turned her son’s head away from the awful scene. Her husband slowly lowered his binoculars and turned away too, along with everyone else.

Looking at the floor, Mike said quietly, “Game over.”

Another eruption from Mount Boring Boring broke the somber silence. Also, the ash, rocks and debris that had shot skyward earlier was now beginning to fall to earth. On the island, a pyroclastic flow, similar to what buried Pompei, charged down the mountain, destroying all in its hot, fiery path.

The captain shouted up to the bridge, “Get us out of here, full speed ahead!”

“Yes sir, full speed ahead!” The crewman shouted back.

The yacht’s motor rumbled, but the yacht just wobbled and didn’t move forward.

“What’s going on?” Mr. Pinter demanded.

“The waves tossed us onto a sandbar, sir,” A crewman replied. “We’re caught.”

The yacht occupants watched the pyroclastic flow whip across the island, destroying the Ocean View Resort. In seconds, anything in its path was either blown down by hot gasses or buried in ash. Anything left standing was on fire. Then the hot flow of gas and ash began to spread out over the water as well…toward the trapped yacht!

“Oh no, we’re gonna fry!” Peter cried.

The yacht’s captain sped up to the wheelhouse and fired the motor all the way. Just then, a lucky wave raised the yacht up high enough to free it, and the yacht zoomed away from the island.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. A minute later, Pinter’s captain came over to him.

“I’ve radioed the Coast Guard to warn them about the possibility of tidal waves, sir.” He said, “They said they’ll put out a warning for those living near the shore to evacuate.”

“Very good, Captain.” Mr. Pinter replied sadly, then gave Junior a hug.

“I’m so sorry about this, Junior.” He said quietly, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Dad.” Junior replied, “The Monkees helped save me.”

“Yes they did.” His dad smiled, looking at them, “Thank you so much.”

“Yes, thank you.” Grace Pinter added, giving her son a hug too.

“It was nothing.” Micky replied.

“Let’s all get dried off, and we can talk some more.” Mr. Pinter replied.

A little while later, while walking over to the Monkees’ room, Junior Pinter and his Dad were stopped by their captain.

“I just got another message from the Coast Guard, Mr. Pinter.” He said. “They’ve sent out the warnings and said they were just on their way to Boring Boring to look for our guests when they got our message.”

“You told them they’re ok?” Junior asked.

“Yes, it looks like they had gotten into some sort of mess with that Captain Crocodile guy.”

“Thank you, Captain Kirk.” Mr. Pinter replied, nodding his head.

He and his son went down the hall and knocked on one of the doors. Micky answered it.

“Can we come in?” Mr. Pinter asked.

“Sure, we’re just about dried out now.” Micky smiled.

Mister Pinter and his son came into the room. The other three Monkees were just sitting around, wearing borrowed clothes, their hair still damp.

“Hi, Mr. Pinter, Junior.” Mike said, “What can we do for you?”

“I just wanted to say how sorry we are for what happened.” Junior said, “And I wanted to thank you for saving me from the Captain.”

“It’s the least we could do.” Davy replied, “You rescued us when we were ready to be eaten by sharks.”

“We’d like to make it up to you.” Mr. Pinter put in. “How would you boys like your own weekly TV show? You can have full creative control. You can do your songs, or maybe comedy.”

The Monkees looked at each other, not sure what to say. The TV station owner saw their hesitation and said, “If you don’t want the grind of a weekly show, how about a one-hour special?”

That sounded a lot more agreeable to the musicians. They nodded their heads.

“A TV special sounds fine to us.” Mike replied.

“If it does well in the ratings…and I don’t see why not.” Mr. Pinter replied, “You can have the option of doing two more.”

Everyone shook hands at the deal, and Mr. Pinter said, “Is there anything else I can do for you gentlemen?”

“You can do something else for me, Dad.” Junior replied.

“What’s that, Junior?”

Junior Pinter took a breath and said, “I’m fourteen years old now…and I would like to stop being called Junior. Call me by my name of Joseph.”

His dad considered his son for a long moment, then nodded his head.

“Yes, Joseph, I think I can managed that.” He smiled.

Not long afterwards, the California coast came into sight. The Monkees stood at the rail of the yacht watching the shore come closer.

“Never thought I’d be so glad to see California again.” Peter said.

“Got that right, shotgun.” Mike replied.

Several Coast Guard boats came over to escort them back to the mainland. Once back on land, the Monkees were taken to the hospital for treatment. They were all treated for exhaustion and exposure. Mike needed seven stitches where the shark had cut him. Their hospital bill was paid for by Mr. Pinter.

The tidal waves caused by the two volcanoes fortunately tapered out significantly before they hit the California coastline. Damage was minimal with no loss of life.

Several days later at the pad, the Monkees were paid a visit by none other than Agent Modell of the CIS. The group had met him before when they had tangled with the Dragonman, a Chinese spy leader.

After interviewing them about their ordeal, agent Modell told them what had happened. After Judy came out of surgery, she told him the Captain shot her and about his plan to get revenge on the Monkees. A raid of the Captain’s apartment turned up a list of his backers, complete with addresses where to send his completed ‘show’. Many of the names on the list were of millionaires with too much time and money on their hands, but several others were known criminals. The CIS, along with the FBI, used the info to capture several of them. Agent Modell thanked them for once again bringing criminals to justice.

The Monkees went on to do a one-hour show for KXIU television. Produced by Joseph Pinter and Joseph Pinter the second, (as he was now called) it was entitled ‘33 1/3 Revolutions Per Monkee’. It was about an evil scientist who tried to use the Monkees’ music to brainwash the world…and was a huge hit. The Monkees did two more shows and found themselves much more in demand after that.

Judy Smith was fired from her job at KXIU. Several months later, her trial came up. Although she denied knowing just how far the Captain’s plan went, she pled guilty to conspiracy. She received a one-year prison term, along with probation. She later married a mailman, moved to Arizona and formed a children’s television watchdog group, advocating for quality children’s television.

The bodies of Captain Crocodile, Howie Needleman and John and his mercenaries were never found.