"What kind is it Mrs.-"
"Miss Worth." the doctor said.
"Miss Worth." Peter finished.
"The twenty four hour kind?" Micky asked with hope.
"Sorry, but I say you guys will be sick at least another four or five days."
"Aw!" Micky grumbled.
"Stay in bed, drink plenty of liquids, and eat only soup and crackers-"
"I'm not crazy!" Davy groaned.
"What?" Miss Worth asked.
"He's from England. Crackers means crazy in England." Peter explained.
"I think that fever's getting to you Davy." Micky frowned.
"Oh and toast. Nothing real solid. If you guys aren't better in five days call me. Hope you guys feel better." Miss Worth smiled. She then left.
"Davy must be sick. He didn't flirt with her one time." Micky whispered to Mike.
"Yep. He's sick." Mike said.
So far Micky was the only one who ate that day. The next day the other two sick Monkees felt a little better. Well enough to try to eat anyway.
Mike had giving them each a bell. He had just started the dishes when he heard two bells ringing.
He entered the downstairs bed room.
"I'm hungry." Micky said.
"Me too." Davy added.
"Soup?" Mike asked.
Davy and Micky nodded.
"What about you Pete?" Mike asked.
"Just crackers for me."
"Tomato soup?" Mike asked.
"Chicken noodle." Davy replied.
Mike flashed a small smile. "Coming up."
After making their soup and filling three glasses with orange juice he re-entered the downstairs bedroom.
"Hey! How come you gave Davy more broth than me?!" Micky whined.
"Well, because he's having a harder time keeping things down. And-"
"How come Micky has more chicken pieces than me?!" Davy also whined.
"Look you guys. Just eat your soup and drink your orange juice." Mike said wearly.
"I want more broth!"
"And I want more chicken pieces and noodles!" both guys whined.
"Fine! But if you get sick again Dave. Don't whine to me!"
"He's already whining." Peter groaned.
Sometime passed and Mike decided to buy his friends some popicles.
"Alright guys. Here." Mike smiled as he them one.
"Thank you." Peter grinned.
"I wanted grape!" Davy whined.
"I wanted cherry!" Micky whined.
Mike sighed. I'm going to murder those two! he thought.
He snatched the popicles then returned with a grape and cherry.
"Happy now?" Mike asked angryly.
"Service seems to be lacking." Micky said.