A man with a mustache and wearing a worn suit and hat pushed a wooden cart along the road leading to the address that Micky had gone to. In the cart were several pots of various colors and sizes. Pausing to wipe his brow, the man pushed his cart up to the last house on the dead-end street. The man of course was Mike. He had thought up the idea, so he had to be the one to confront whomever was in the house. He set the cart down, adjusting his tie, and rang the doorbell.
A few seconds later, a short man with a suspicious look in his eye opened the door. Unlike Micky, Mike immediately recognized Wolfgang and hoped Wolfgang didn't recognize him. Mike hoped the shock he felt wasn't showing on his face.
"Yes, may I help you?" Wolfgang asked slowly.
Mike wanted to make up some excuse and run, but realized that would cause too much suspicion. The plan was to keep whomever was in the house occupied and Mike had to go through with it.
"Good morning, sir, my name is Carbrew Hedges and I'd like to show you my fine collection of pots."
"We don't need any..." Wolfgang began.
"No, you're not going to send me away after I've walked ten miles to show you all the fine pots I have right here." Mike interrupted, getting into his salesman mode "I have copper pots, tin pots, steel pots, ceramic pots..."
~~~~~~~~~
While Mike kept Wolfgang busy, Peter and Davy had gone through the woods and over to the garage side of the house. Slowly, they walked over to the garage windows and looked inside.
Actually, only Peter could look in; the windows were too high up for Davy to see.
"What do you see, Peter?" Davy whispered. "Is it lit up inside?"
"I see a big garage with two cars." Peter whispered back. "Lots of tools and a few stacks of tires. Here, I'll boost you up."
Peter grabbed Davy under the arms and held him up for a few seconds, then let him down again.
"Nobody's inside and that's good." Davy said, then looked at Peter. "Wait, let me up again."
Peter held Davy up for a few seconds and let him down again.
"What is it, Davy?" Peter asked.
"There's a blue long-sleeved shirt that looks like Micky's lying on the floor." Davy answered.
Peter looked again. "You're right, Davy. I think Micky just bought that shirt a few months ago."
"Let's see if we can go inside." Davy said quietly.
Peter gulped but nodded his head. The two Monkees walked to the side and Davy tried the door. It was unlocked.
Looking at Peter, Davy opened the door and the two walked inside. They stayed close to the wall, ready to run if somebody came.
"Micky?" Davy called quietly. "Are you here?" He walked over to the shirt on the ground and picked it up. Looking at the tag in the collar, Davy could see the initials M.D. that Peter wrote there so he wouldn't get everyone's laundry mixed up.
Silently, Davy showed the tag to Peter. Peter's eyes went wide.
"Micky!" Peter said a little louder, "Where are you?"
Suddenly, the stack of tires next to him started to wobble. The two Monkees jumped back, startled.
"The tires are moving!" Peter exclaimed, but Davy remembered Micky telling him how Baron Von Klutz had hid him and T.N. Crumpets inside a stack of tires. He reached over and pushed the top tire up and off the stack.
Greeting Davy and Peter was the face of Micky. He had a gag in his mouth and a pained look in his eyes.
"Micky!" Peter and Davy exclaimed. They quickly pulled the other tires away from him. Micky was shirtless and wrapped in chains, unable to move. When they had moved enough tires, Peter and Davy picked Micky up and carried him off to the side. Peter removed Micky's gag, while Davy went to work on the chains.
"Who did this to you, Micky?" Peter asked.
"Von Klutz." Micky whispered back, "Wants me to work on his Klutz mobile again."
"Filthy blighter." Davy said, wincing at the bruises on Micky's body. "We'll get you out of here and go to the police."
"I don't think so, English." A rough voice said behind them.
Peter and Davy turned to see Von Klutz standing in the doorway, a gun in his hand.
"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in." Davy remarked.
"I see your wit is not as good as your driving skills, little man." Von Klutz said, walking further into the garage. "Both of you stand and put your hands up." Peter and Davy obeyed. Micky still had most of the chains around him and had to stay on the floor.
"You won't get away with this, you evil Nazi, you." Peter said, "Mike knows where we are and he's gonna go for the police!"
"Oh really?" Von Klutz laughed, then turned to the door. "Wolfgang, bring the `salesman' in here, would you?"
Suddenly, Mike was shoved through the door, hands raised and his mustache and hat missing. Wolfgang was right behind him, a gun in his hand as well.
"Don't have to push." Mike complained.
"Mike!" Peter and Davy exclaimed.
Mike saw Peter and Davy. "Sorry guys, they recognized me."
"Easy enough matter for someone who has used disguises before." Wolfgang said.
"We knew the three of you would come looking for your friend." Von Klutz added.
Mike then saw Micky lying on the floor. "Micky! What did they do to you?"
"Whatever they wanted to, Mike." Micky said quietly.
Mike gave Von Klutz a look that would've melted steel, but the Baron simply chuckled.
"Your friend seems to be made of sterner stuff than I had previously thought." The Baron told him, "He won't co-operate with us."
"I still won't." Micky said defiantly.
"But with your friends here, I think you'll change your mind." Von Klutz replied, evilly. "I think it's time we all had a talk."