The Monkees' Halloween Special
Micky went to bed early that night to escape the disrespectful onslaughts of his three other band-mates. Even Peter, seeing the error of his ways, began taunting the poor boy. It was disgraceful. So Micky, beaten and weary from his...well...beating--plus having the endure cleaning the entire garage which he insisted was not the wind's fault--pulled back the covers of his bed and fell onto his pillow. As he lay in almost silence (the three were still downstairs laughing), his ears fell upon the beach waves, the night birds still flying, the cool beach wind...
Cool beach wind? How could he hear the cool beach wind if his bedroom window was not open? He shot like a rocket out of bed and sped towards the window. He pulled back the beads and...
The window was closed! How could he hear the small waves of the night if the window was closed? How could he hear the wind? The birds? Was he going crazy? He turned and walked into the upstairs bathroom and turned on the light. He splashed a bit of water on his face leaning close into the sink. What was wrong with him? This must have been some trick the others were playing on him. He would never get *this* frightened or edgy for anything, would he. He stood back up and reached out for the towel by the sink. He felt around for it. It was not there. He then felt a soft felt object by his ear.
"Here ya go, mac," an unfamiliar voice said. Micky reached over and took the object; it was a towel.
"Thanks man," Micky thanked the man.
"Don't mention it," he replied. Micky wiped his face for a second then suddenly stopped. Who just handed him a towel? He turned around at the speed of light to look upon this man. There was no one. He looked at the towel. It was a plain white towel, nothing unusual. It did not look like one of there's but it was not strange. Nevertheless, the frightened young man dropped the towel and slowly back away from it as if it were threatening his life. He reached the door and suddenly bolted out the bathroom, down the stares, and into the kitchen. He stood panting by the railing of the stares. The others looked at him.
"Micky, what's wrong?" Davy asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost." After a second, Davy and the others began laughing at Davy's unintentional joke.
"Thought you saw a ghost," Peter laughed on the verge of going to tears. "That's a classic."
"Guys, I...just..." Micky panted out of breath.
"You what? Saw a ghost?" Mike asked. They began to laugh again. That was two.
"Yes!" Micky managed to get out. "I...saw...a ghost."
"Oh c'mon Mick," Davy spoke, tears running down his eyes.
"He...handed...me...a towel..." Micky added.
"Ooo, watch out guys," Mike began in a mocking tone of voice. "The ghost of the bathroom towel boy is on the loose in the Pad." Everyone laughed harder. It was a riot.
"I swear it happened," Micky pleaded.
"Yeah?" Mike asked. "There, where's the towel?"
"On the floor in the bathroom," he answered fully recovered from his running. "I'll show you."
"C'mon men," Mike spoke to the others. "Let's venture forth to see this haunted towel." Davy and Peter continued laughing as the both got up and followed Mike to the stares. Micky, disgusted lead the way.
The group entered into the bathroom and Micky turned on the light. "See the towel?" He asked pointing to the floor--the empty, toweless floor. His eyes grew *Not again* he thought to himself.
"Now Micky," Davy tried to keep from laughing as he spoke, "the least you could've done was put a towel there to give us something to look at."
"It was a clean white towel," Micky protested. "I dropped it right there." He pointed to the floor as if to make it appear again.
"You mean like the towel that's hanging on the edge of the sink?" Peter asked, also keeping from laughing.
Micky looked on the sink. "Yeah, just like..." he began to answer until his eyes saw the towel that was supposed to be hanging on the sink when he washed his face. "No!" he yelped. "No, that's not it. That wasn't there! I swear there's a ghost in this house playing tricks on me!"
"Sure man," Peter spoke as he and Davy headed out the bathroom. Now it was Micky and Mike.
"Mike, you've gotta believe me," Micky pleaded for his life.
"Man, it was funny the first time," Mike began, "but it's gettin' old. You'd best stop while you're ahead."
"What is wrong with you people?" Micky shrieked, teeth clenched and fists tight. "That's it. I'm going to prove to all of you this Pad is haunted. I don't know how. I don't know when. But I swear on all that is holy I'll prove this place has been cursed by the devil himself."
"There ya go again with that old English bit," Mike said.
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