Mike drove over to Ritzy Records Headquarters' parking lot. There was a guard who opened the gate for them when Mike told him who they were and why they were there.
"Go through the side door." The guard said gruffly, "Take the elevator to the thirteenth floor."
"Thank you sir." Mike said as he drove on through.
"I thought building floors weren't numbered thirteen." Davy said. "Bad luck."
"That's just superstition." Micky replied as Mike parked the car.
"C'mon, it's almost two." Mike said, jumping out. "We can't be late."
The others followed him through the side door and went inside. The empty side lobby was done in brass and black marble.
Peter hit the `up' button for the elevator and the doors opened right away.
Quickly getting inside, Mike hit the `13' button.
The doors closed and the car quickly moved up.
A few seconds later, the doors opened again on the thirteenth floor. The Monkees found themselves in an elegant hallway with dark plush carpeting and brass fixtures. Brass lights dimly lit the hallway. At the end of the hall was a foyer with frosted glass doors on one wall. In one corner was a large stuffed growling Lion and African shields and spears hung along the walls.
"This place doesn't feel right." Micky told the others in Hebrew as they walked down the hall.
Mike began to feel a little uneasy, but thought it was just nerves.
"Well, let's not waste time." He told the others in English. His friends agreed and followed him to the door. Just as they approached, the doors opened by themselves. Standing in the door, wearing a dark brown dress and gold earrings, was none other than Maggie. Her curly hair had been tied back in a short ponytail and she smiled at the Monkees as the grandfather clock in the room rang two.
"Hello, Monkees." She said, "Right on time."
"Oh, hello Miss McDonald." Mike said, "Nice to see you again."
"Same here." Maggie replied as she stepped aside to let the quartet inside what looked like to be an outer office.
Like the hallway they had just walked down, the outer office was also done up in rich dark colors. There was a desk slightly off to the side made of dark mahogany; Maggie's desk.
Opposite the desk was the grandfather clock the Monkees had heard as they came to the door. There were several couches along the walls and a glass coffee table with lilies in a vase sitting upon its surface.
Next to the large double-doors along the back wall, near Maggie's desk, was an enormous fish tank.
"This is some place you have here, Miss McDonald." Davy said in awe. He then looked at Maggie's desk and noticed in was almost bare; no pictures of family, just what looked like a crystal ball sitting in the corner, the light in the room making it glow brightly.
"Thank you, but all this belongs to Miss Ritz." Maggie noticed Davy's gaze.
"Like my paperweight?" She asked. "I bought it on a trip to Europe."
"Oh, its groovy." Davy replied.
Neither Davy nor the other Monkees realized Maggie had been using that ball to watch the group as they made their way up to the office. Jynger, in her office behind the double-doors, was now channeling her power through it to watch them as they looked around the room. She smiled evilly.
"So these are the four who have caused my master so much trouble." She thought to herself. "They seem simple, but then again, looks can be deceiving." She chuckled when she saw the look on Peter's face as he saw the piranhas in the fish tank. "I should know that. The mortals will never know what's happening to them?until it is too late."
Maggie then knocked on the door and came inside the office.
"The Monkees are here, Madam." Maggie said, a wicked smile on her face, "But of course you already knew that."
"Of course." She replied, leaning back in her black leather chair, "But we must keep up appearances for them. They've already shown they have some brains. You have everything ready?"
"Yes, Madam." Maggie said.
"Good, then let's get this charade started. The sooner they're singing `our' songs, the better." She said slowly. "Tell them to come in."
"Yes, Madam." Maggie said with a little bow, then left the office.
She rose and brushed down her blue velvet dress as Maggie brought in the four Monkees, Mike and Peter carrying their guitars.
"Good afternoon gentlemen. I'm Jynger Ritz."
"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Ritz." Mike said, taking her hand and shaking it. "I'm Michael Nesmith."
The others introduced themselves as well.
"I'm glad to meet all of you." She said, "Please have a seat."
The Monkees sat down in the leather chairs around Jynger's desk, while Maggie walked away to get refreshments. Jynger slowly sat back down in her chair and looked the Monkees over.
The Monkees for their part were very nervous but tried not to show it. The record exec's office had an impressive view of the city.
Like Maggie's desk, Gynger's desk was bare except for a few papers and a pen holder set sitting in the front middle. There were no pictures or any sort of personal touch added to the desk.
Disguising her contempt for the group behind a smile, she finally spoke.
"So let's get started. You gentlemen have been around for awhile, haven't you?" She asked, "Why don't you tell me how the four of you got started."
"I was playing guitar in a coffee shop when I met Mike." Peter replied, "He was looking to form a band and I decided to join him."
"I was the drummer in a band called `Micky and the One-Nighters." Micky added, "When the lead singer and guitarist were drafted, the band broke up. Peter and I were acquaintances and he told me about the group Mike was forming, so I took the job."
"What about you, Mr. Jones?" Jynger asked.
"I had been working in the New York theater circuit after I had left England." Davy replied. "I decided to try my luck in California. It was in the last night of `Oliver' that Mike came back stage and asked if I would like to join his band. I didn't have another job lined up, so I took him up on his offer."
"How long have the four of you been together?" Jynger asked.
"About three years." Micky replied.
At this point, Maggie came back into the room pushing a silver food cart. On it was a teapot, china cups, saucers and some cookies.
"Would you like to join me for some tea, gentlemen?" The record exec asked.
The four musicians weren't thirsty, but realized it wouldn't be a good idea to refuse.
"Yes we would, thank you." Peter replied.
Maggie poured the tea in the cups and asked if they wanted anything added. Davy took his tea with milk and sugar, Peter took his with just lemon and Mike and Micky took their tea with a little honey.
Jynger took her tea plain. The Monkees sipped their tea for a few minutes to be polite. Of the four, Mike liked his tea the most and drank it all down. Micky mostly ate the cookies.
"If I may ask, Ms. Ritz, how long have you been in the music business?" Davy asked.
"Oh, for some time now." Jynger replied, "My Father was a rather successful businessman. I guess I got his business sense from him. Then several years ago, he and my Mother went on an African safari. One day my Father spotted a Lion," She looked down, "He went after it, but when he tried to fire, the gun jammed and Lion attacked and killed him. Fortunately a porter shot the Lion; that's the Lion in the foyer, but it was too late. My mother was so overcome with grief, she died not long after returning to the states."
"I'm sorry, Ms. Ritz." Peter said, tearing up.
Gynger looked over at Maggie, who walked over to a stereo system against the wall and put a record on. It was a pleasant recording of a string quartet.
Being fans of Rock and R and B, the Monkees didn't think much of the music. Jynger brought them back to the matter at hand.
"So tell me, where do you get inspiration for your songs?" She asked.
"There's nothing in particular." Mike replied. "Whenever something strikes me, I write about it."
Jynger wished lightning would strike Mike but instead simply smiled. She looked at Micky.
"Have you written any songs?"
"A few." Micky admitted, "One called `She' and `Mary Mary' about a few girlfriends I had."
"Have you gentlemen written songs about things instead of love?" Jynger asked.
"No, not too many." Peter answered her. "Love is the ultimate power."
"Really?" She asked, taking a sip of her tea to hide a smirk, "What about fame or fortune? Would you like to have the power those things can give you?"
Peter wanted to quote the parable in Luke chapter 21 about the man who stored up treasure on Earth, but instead found himself replying, "Yeah, having a fortune would be great!" He then closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again and looked at her. "We could help a lot of people with our wealth."
Jynger stared at Peter for so long, he began to wonder if had said something wrong. Then she smiled.
"Well said, Mr. Tork!" The witch said, then looked at the other three Monkees. "If I like what I hear from your audition." She said slowly, "I can make the four of you rich." She got up from her chair and slowly walked behind them, "To buy whatever your hearts desire. Do you know the band Henry and the Hemlocks?" She asked.
"Yeah, we know them." Mike replied. "They used to play the same clubs we did."
"Each one of them now owns three cars and a mansion in the Hollywood Hills." Jynger said.
"What about touring?" Micky asked, trying not to get too excited.
"I can arrange that too. No more playing in small clubs, it will be large arenas filled with your fans, all wanting to hear...you." She replied, putting a hand on his shoulder. Her hand felt warm and soft to him. There was silence as Jynger sat back down on her chair.
"Well, if everyone is finished, let's go over to the studio and I can hear what you four can do."
So everyone got up and followed her over to a side door. Micky grabbed another cookie before following his band mates and popped it into his mouth. Jynger opened the doors to reveal a large recording studio. There was another set of doors off to the side which led to the control booth and another which led to the studio itself.
Maggie directed them to go into the studio while she and Jynger went inside the control booth. There was an engineer already waiting for them inside.
The Monkees took their places behind the microphones. Micky went behind the drum set, while Peter and Mike connected their guitars to the speakers and tuned up. Davy went over to a table and picked up a tambourine.
Jynger flipped on the intercom.
"Are you gentlemen ready?" She asked. "The intercom button is to your right, Mr. Nesmith."
Mike flipped his intercom on.
"We're ready, Miss Ritz." He replied, his voice slightly shaking.
"Don't worry, I'm sure you four will do fine." She said, "What song will you do first?"
Mike looked over at Micky. The drummer finally spoke.
"It's called `Last Train to Clarksville', Miss Ritz." Micky replied, his voice almost a squeak, "It's an anti-war song about a soldier who wants to see his girl before he leaves."
"Start whenever you're ready. I'm going to record all this." She said, then flipped off the intercom. She looked at her assistant.
"It will be a pro-war song after we're done with it." She said.
Micky's hands shook a little as he tapped his drumsticks together to start the countdown. Mike began the opening chords and Micky started to sing.
"Take the last train to Clarksville and I'll meet you at the station, you can be here by four-thirty, `cuz I've made your reservation, don't be slow."
"Oh no no no. Oh no no no!" Mike, Peter and Davy responded.
Inside the booth, Jynger, Maggie and the engineer silently listened to them play. Jynger kept a smile on her face since the Monkees looked up at her every so often.
"Actually, they are a lot better than some groups we've signed." Maggie told her boss.
"True." She agreed, "That will make it easier for us to sell their records."
"The more young brats that listen to our records, the better." Maggie said.
The engineer simply sat at his controls, saying nothing. The Monkees finished the song and looked over at the control room.
Jynger flipped the intercom on.
"Well done, Monkees." She said, "What's next?"
"Valleri." Davy replied. "I wrote it with Mike."
"Proceed." Jynger replied and switched off the intercom again.
Mike started the opening notes and Davy began to sing with Mike and Peter.
"Valleri, I love her madly, Valleri?"
When the song was over, Jynger flipped the intercom on again.
"Excellent, Gentlemen!" She exclaimed. "Let's hear another, perhaps Mr. Nesmith can sing one."
"I have a song I wrote called "Don't wait for me." Mike replied.
With just a soft drumbeat from Micky, Mike played his guitar and sang.
"Don't wait for me, I'll be a long time coming, unless I hear something that shows me that you really care."
As Jynger and Maggie listened to Mike's song of love gone wrong, the engineer spoke up.
"How many more songs will they be doing?"
"This will be the last one." Jynger told him. "They should be ready by now."
Maggie simply smiled at her employer.
When Mike was done with her song, The two women joined the group in the studio.
"Well done, Monkees!" She said, "I like what I am hearing."
"You liked us?" Peter asked.
"Yes I did." Jynger replied. "Still, I want to hear something fresh from you four. Do you have any new songs for me?"
"Well, we are working on a few right now." Peter said. It wasn't the complete truth. They had a few more songs, but they were far from complete.
"That's great! I'd like to hear them when they're ready." The record exec looked thoughtful at the quartet. "You know, I like you gentlemen. Why don't the four of you come to my party tonight? Just the four of you. I'm giving it for the group `Warmonger' whose record just went gold."
"A party at your place?" Micky stuttered.
"Yes! I'd like to get to know the four of you better in a less formal setting." Jynger pulled a black card out of her pocket, "Here's the address. You'll get to meet other acts that I've signed, get a taste of what it could be like if you gentlemen signed with me."
"Sure, we'll come." Davy said quietly.
"Then I'll see you tonight." Jynger said with a smile. "The party starts about eight and ends...who knows?" She laughed.
"Thank you, Ms. Ritz." Peter said.
"Thank you, gentlemen." Jynger replied.
The Monkees quickly gathered their gear and left the studio, all of them in a daze. Maggie pulled her magic compact out of her pocket and watched as they walked down the hall and got onto the elevator.
When the elevator doors had closed, she snapped her compact shut.
"The trap is set." Maggie told Jynger, "And the fools are willingly walking right into it."
"You put the whole vial of my influence potion into the teapot?" Jynger asked.
"Yes Madam, but only Nesmith finished his drink." Maggie replied, frowning slightly.
"It doesn't matter." Jynger replied, "As long as they all had some to drink, it will go to work on them. The potion will wear off in a few days, but by that time, it will be too late for them."
Suddenly, the engineer walked through the wall between the recording booth and the studio. His features then changed into those of Satan. The two women were startled; even though both were witches, neither had any idea their master was right there, disguised as the engineer. They quickly bowed down.
"Master." They said reverently.
"The two of you are doing very well." Satan said with an evil smile. "Tonight is will be very important, for both of you. Make sure the four of them have the time of their lives...before their lives belong to me."
"It will be done, my master." Maggie replied. Satan chuckled and disappeared in a cloud of black smoke.