Mike: Hey (Davy jumps as Mike speaks out) Davy! (Davy turns around and looks at Mike) Man, what were you doing? I've been callin' out your name from clear back there! (Mike points to the house) We gotta gig to do tomorrow afternoon and the Senator wants us there by tonight to go over the play list. That means we *have* to get going or we'll never make it. It's at least a five hour drive.
Davy: Sorry man. I was just...out here doin' some thinkin' is all.
Mike: Well quit yer thinkin' 'cuz we need ya back at the beach house. Micky's trying to pack up the car and Peter is fixing us some lunch to go with it.
Davy: You put Petah in charge of the lunch?
Mike: It was either he did that or he pack the car up. And when he packs the car up, he never leaves room for the rest of us.
Davy: Good point. (Mike takes Davy and points him in the direction of their beach house. They go up the steps and inside to see Peter putting peanut butter on some bread) Well guess it can't be *that* bad Mike. He's making peanut butter sandwiches.
Mike: It's what's *in* the peanut butter I'm worried about.
Micky (Out of breath): Hey, Davy, if you are finished playing around on the beach, could you help get the instruments to the car please?
Davy: No, you seem to be doing a good job all by yourself.
Micky (Sarcastically): Gee thank you! (Micky picks up another part of his drum set and angrily walks back out the door)
Mike: Go get dressed Dave! We'll meet you in the car. (Davy goes upstairs to his room to get dressed) Hey Pete? You ready yet?
Peter: Got one more sandwich to make. (Peter puts peanut butter onto the bread and then he packs it into the picnic basket) Boy it sure was nice of your mom to lend us this picnic basket Mike.
Mike: She wasn't using it and besides; she won't even know it's gone.
Micky (Walking back inside): We're packed. Now could you *please* go get the midgit so we can go?
Davy (Yelling down): I heard that Dolenz! (Davy comes down the stairs with his red eight buttoned shirt and a small suit case)
Mike: Where's your necklace Davy?
Davy: Oh, well, it must have fallen off down on the beach somewhere. It's not a big deal. I'll find her somewhere again.
Mike: Come by me again with that. Did you say 'her'?
Davy: No, I said I'll find 'it' somewhere or I will just get a new one.
Mike: No, I distinctly heard you say 'her.'
Davy: No, I said 'it.' Now could we please not argue and get moving?
Micky (Throwing the keys to Mike): You're driving!
Peter: How come *I* never get to drive the Monkeemobile?
Davy: Last time Mike let you drive it, you crashed it into another car.
Peter: Hey it was in my way.
Davy: Petah, the car was parked on the side of the road in *front* of you.
Mike: Do we have everything?
Micky: Yup; drums, guitars, tamborine, maraccas...I think that pretty much covers it.
Peter: Hey what about Mr. Schneider? He *loves* a good ride.
Mike: Sorry, Pete, but he'll just have to stay at home and guard the house from Mr. Babbit. He's too big and there's no more room in the car.
Micky: Let's roll! (Peter got down on the floor and began to roll) Peter, *what* are you doing?
Davy: You took the words right outta my mouth.
Peter: You said 'Let's roll!'
Davy, Micky & Mike: Oh Peter!
Mike (Pulling Peter up from the floor): C'mon, man! No more clowning around. We have a job to get to! (They pile into the Monkeemobile and Mike pulls out of the driveway. Just as they get around the block, they have to turn around and go back to the house. Peter jumps out of the car and runs inside. He disappears to the bathroom and comes out a second later) *Now* are we ready?
Peter: Yes. (Mike pulls out again and as he gets around the block, he has to go back to the house again)
Mike: At this rate, we'll make it to the party in three years! (Davy and Micky run inside. Mike waited for them to come out and he went in. After they were all back in the car, Mike pulls out again and this time, he sees Mr. Schneider in the car instead of Peter) Oh brother! (Mike pulls back in the driveway, takes out Mr. Schneider and goes inside to find Peter sitting on the couch watching TV) Peter will you c'mon?
Peter: Sorry! (They go back to the car, get in and Mike finally drives off)
Mike: No more stops! (The Monkees were finally able to be on their way to their gig)