Magical Mystery Tour, Version 2

Micky is laying in a bus station. He opens his eyes and gets up.

"Wow, that was some blow," he remarked, rubbing his head. "Hey, wait a minute!" he exclaimed, looking around. "Where am I? This isn't the Pad!"

Just then, a moody-looking young man with a rather large nose walked up to Micky and grabbed him by the arm. "‘ey, there you are!" he said in a British accent. "Your mates ‘ave been lookin' all over for you!"

Micky whirled around to face the person who had made such an odd remark and his mouth dropped open in shock. "Ringo Starr?" he asked in disbelief.

The man nodded.

"But what're you doing here?" Micky asked. "And, coming to think of it, where is ‘here'?"

"We're in a bus station, mate," Ringo replied. "Waiting for the Magical Mystery Tour bus."

"‘Magical Mystery Tour bus'???" Micky repeated incredulously. "Man, I must've hit my head harder than I thought!"

"Come again?"

Micky shook his head. "Oh, uh, nothing."

"Micky! There you are!"

Mike, Davy, and Peter were standing near the big plate glass window at the front of the station.

"Where'd you find him, Ringo?" Peter asked.

"Over by a fallen bench," the Beatle said.

Micky was surprised that his friends seemed to know Ringo, but he decided it wasn't any stranger than the other things that had been happening since he fell backwards in the chair and didn't comment. Instead he said, "So, guys, I guess we're going on the Magical Mystery Tour, huh?"

His fellow Monkees nodded. "Yup," Davy said.

"We couldn't find him anywhere!" a new voice exclaimed.

Micky whirled around to see three other young men in their early twenties run up. With a start, he realized they were the other Beatles—John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and George Harrison.

"That's okay, John," Ringo said to the Beatle who'd spoken. "I found him."

"That's good," John said.

Before anyone could say anything more, a voice blared over the intercom. "The Magical Mystery Tourbus is here! All aboard for the Magical Mystery Tour!" People started crowding towards the door.

"Come on, we'd better get going," Mike said, threading his way between the crowds to get out.

What an odd day, Micky thought as he followed Mike out the door.

"Uh, could you guys explain what's happening again?" Micky asked as he strapped himself in. His fellow Monkees turned to stare at him. "Well, I had a fall and hit my head," Micky said truthfully. "And I don't quite remember what's happening here."

"You hit your head?" Peter looked worried. "Are you sure you're alright, Micky? Maybe you should see a doctor."

"Naw, I'm fine, Big Peter," Micky assured his friend. "But I can't quite grasp the reason why we're going on the Magical Mystery Tour, or why we seem to know the Beatles."

"Well," Davy said, "someone hired us for a one-night gig. And the only way we can get there is by taking the Magical Mystery Tour."

"Oh," Micky said.

"As for how we know the Beatles," Mike picked up the story, "when you disappeared, we looked and couldn't find you. Then we met up with the Beatles, who said they'd help us find you."

"Come to find out, the same person who hired us hired them, too," Davy stated.

Micky gaped at his friend. "Does that mean we're gonna perform with the Beatles?"

Davy nodded, breaking into a grin. "Yup."

"Now, if you'll look to your left, you'll see the view is rather monotonous," Wendy, the pretty tour guide, said over the intercom. "But, if you look to your right . . ."

Everyone turned to look out the windows on the right side of the bus. They could see all kinds of psychedelic colors floating around.

"Wow," Peter exclaimed. "That's fascinating!"

"How are we seeing such an illusion?" Mike asked John.

"Well," John began, aware of several young kids listening eagerly nearby, "according to legend, way beyond the clouds, there live four or five magicians."

"Are they good magicians?" one of the kids interrupted.

John smiled. "Oh yes. They use their magic to create all the fascinating things we see on the Magical Mystery Tours."

Micky turned to Davy. "I don't know what it is exactly, but I have a feeling that something bad's gonna happen!"

Davy laughed. "Oh, come off it, Micky. What could go wrong?"

"Lots of things!" Micky insisted.

"Such as?"

"Such as . . . Uh, such as . . ." Micky paused, unable to come up with a specific example. "Lots of things!" he repeated. Davy laughed again and shook his head.

The bus stopped at a little roadside diner for lunch. In the middle of the main course, omelets and French toast, the bus driver burst in, his eyes wide with panic.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, standing at the front of the diner, "I regret to inform you that there's been a, um, slight delay . . ."

Everyone turned to look at the frazzled-looking man. A woman called impatiently from the back of the diner, "Well? Just what is this delay?"

The driver said something in such a low voice that no one could hear him. "Louder!" the unpleasant woman yelled.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Magical Mystery Tourbus has been stolen!" the driver cried.

A stunned silence reigned upon the diner. But not for long. Cries of, "Who would do such a thing?" and "What'll happen now?" filled the air.

"Wow, that's awful," Micky breathed. "We oughtta do something."

"What could we do?" George asked.

"Find the bus," Paul replied.

"How?" Peter and Ringo exclaimed at the same time.

Before anyone could reply, a maniacal laugh, which seemed to come from somewhere outside, filled the room. Everyone started.

"Hahahahahaha!!! I will rule the world yet, and you Monkees will not be able to stop me this time!!!"

The Beatles turned to stare at the other music group. Davy, Peter, and Micky stared back.

Mike, on the other hand, jumped up from the table. "Wizard Glick!" he exclaimed, running to the front door. The other Monkees followed, the Beatles trailing after them.

When they caught up to Mike, he was looking around wildly. "I don't see him," the Texan said. "He must've taken off!"

"Who in the world is Wizard Glick?" Ringo demanded.

"He's a maniac magician who wants to rule the world," Davy replied.

"And I think he's making another attempt," Micky broke in urgently.

"You know, Mick, I think you're right," Mike said. "It sure sounded that way."

The bus driver came running up then. "Who was that?" he asked.

"Probably the guy who ran off with the bus," John replied.

"Oh, this is terrible!" the driver moaned, wringing his hands. "What will the passengers think? Nothing like this has ever happened before! And what's worse, there's no transportation out here! We're stranded!"

"Well," Mike said, "actually, we'd like to help you find the bus."

The driver looked up hopefully. "Really?"

The Monkees and The Beatles looked at each other, then back at the driver, nodding. "Yes, we would," John said.

"Oh, how wonderful of you!" the driver exclaimed. "I can't thank you enough!" He shook each musician's hand heartily. Ringo and then Peter nearly fell over. When the driver shook Micky's hand, the drummer understood why. He'd never met anyone who gave such a strong handshake!

"Well," Mike said, "we'd better get started looking."

For starters, they went over to the parking lot where the bus had been and searched for any possible clues.

"I don't see anything," Peter said.

"Neither do I," Paul chimed in.

"Wait a minute!" John said, holding something up. "Here's something."

Paul took the thing and stared at it. "Well, what is it?"

John took it back. "It's a leaf," he replied. "And if I'm not mistaken, it came from that forest over there." He gestured up ahead a mile or so, where a cluster of green could be seen.

"Hmm," Mike said thoughtfully.

"Well, I guess that means we should look over there," Peter said.

The driver wanted to go with them, but he was called back into the diner because of some dispute he needed to solve.

"Don't worry," Davy assured the distraught man, "when we come back, we'll ‘ave the bus."

"Oh thank you!" the driver exclaimed, hurrying into the diner.

"That's a pretty big promise, Davy," Mike commented.

"Well?" The British Monkee shrugged. "We ‘ave to find it. Everyone will be stranded ‘ere if we don't find it."

With that, he headed for the forest. The others looked at each other, shrugged, and followed, Micky trailing behind everyone else, totally baffled at the turn of events in the last hour.

As the eight musicians wandered deeper into the forest, strange sounds seemed to come from all around them.

"What was that?" Micky exclaimed, leaping three feet in the air after hearing an especially odd sound that seemed to be a combination chirp, growl, and meow.

"Probably just a jub-jub bird," Ringo said, who'd been on more than one Magical Mystery Tour in the past with his bandmates.

Everyone turned to stare at the Beatles' drummer. "A what?" John demanded.

"It talks about them in the tour guide," Ringo replied, holding up a fat book with a glossy cover. "Didn't you read it?"

John rolled his eyes and walked on.

Mike, who was leading the group, suddenly stopped and motioned for silence. Everyone came to an abrupt halt and crashed into each other.

"What is it, Mike?" Micky asked in a whisper.

"I hear voices," the Texan replied.

Everyone strained to hear what Mike was referring to. Raucous laughter suddenly rang out throughout the forest. It was a laugh The Monkees knew all too well.

"I WILL RULE THE WORLD!!!" it cackled. "I have the Magical Mystery Tourbus and I've kidnapped the good magicians! Success will be mine!"

"Wizard Glick," Davy sighed.

"He's kidnapped the good magicians?" Micky said, confused.

"Hmm, funny, I always thought that was just a legend," John said, equally confused.

"But, Wizard Glick," a new voice broke in, "what about those Monkees?"

"Monkees? Hah! Those long-haired weirdos will never catch me this time!" Glick responded.

"That's what he thinks," Mike muttered.

"We need a plan of action," Paul said.

"First we need to actually see what's going on," Micky found himself saying. "See how many minions he's got hanging around, and so forth."

"‘ey, good idea, Micky," Davy said.

"Okay, we'll try to get closer." John cautiously moved ahead and parted the bushes.

Wizard Glick was standing on top of the Magical Mystery Tourbus, laughing maniacally. Several robot henchmen milled around, apparently scouting the area.

"We'd better be careful," John said, turning back to the others. "He's got a whole bloody lot of robots patrolling the area!"

Unbeknownst to them, a robot had already spotted them and was reporting back to the evil wizard.

"So The Monkees are here, are they? And they've brought friends?"

"Yes, master," the robot said mechanically.

"Well, follow them! See what they're up to!" Glick ordered.

"Yes, master." The robot turned around and walked back into the brush.

"What are we going to do stop that creep?" Paul wondered.

"I've got it!" Micky exclaimed. "A brilliant idea!"

Everyone turned to look at him. "Well?" John asked impatiently.

Micky shrugged. "That's what we need. A brilliant idea."

John rolled his eyes, and decided to peer through the bushes again. This time, Wizard Glick was no longer standing on the bus. He wasn't in sight. More than likely, he was in the bus.

The robot who was ordered to follow the two bands came upon them now. It did the first thing its programmed mind thought to do: give Ringo, who was at the back of the line they'd formed, a swift conk on the head. He fell forward, knocking into Peter, who fell against George, and on like that to the front of the line.

After John and Mike, who were at the head of the line, fell over, nearly plopping on the bush and breaking it, they slowly turned around to look at their bandmates.

"What in the name of heaven are you boys doing?" John demanded.

"Yeah, you wanna call a whole lot of attention to us?" Mike added.

"Sorry, Mike," Davy said apologetically. "Paul crashed into me."

"And Micky crashed into me," Paul said.

"And George crashed into me," Micky put in.

George said that Peter had crashed into him, and Peter concluded that Ringo had crashed into him.

"Okay, okay," Mike said, "so it's obvious that everyone crashed into everyone else. We're lucky Wizard Glick didn't hear us falling and yelling."

Everyone stood up, except for Ringo, who lay sprawled on the ground.

"What's wrong with him?" Micky asked, then noticed a strange metal thing retreating into the bush. "Hey! There goes one of Wizard Glick's robots!" he exclaimed. "It's waving some kind of metal stick!"

"That thing must've hit Ringo on the head!" Paul concluded.

"Oh, great. As if we don't have enough trouble," John muttered, throwing up his hands in disgust, "now a bloody bucket of bolts had to go and knock Ringo unconscious!"

Ringo stirred and sat up. "Did anyone catch the number of that truck?" he exclaimed.

"Ringo!" Paul said, "Are you okay?"

Ringo looked puzzled. "Yeah, I think so. What happened?"

"It's a long story," John sighed. "In a nutshell, that Wizard Glick chap has found us."

Suddenly a bright blue light surrounded them. When it faded away, they were standing in what appeared to be some kind of laboratory.

"Gosharooney!" Micky exclaimed, looking at his new surroundings.

"Where are we now?" Ringo wondered.

"I'm going to make a wild guess," Paul said. "The magicians' laboratory."

"The ones Wizard Glick kidnapped?" Peter asked.

Paul nodded. "Yup."

"Intruders! Intruders!" mechanical voices started to yell. Out of nowhere emerged several robots like the one Micky had spotted running into the brush.

"Holy frogs' legs!" Davy exclaimed.

"Oh, man, what next?" Micky moaned, slapping his forehead.

A raucous laugh echoed throughout the room, and Wizard Glick appeared.

"Wizard Glick!" Mike exclaimed indignantly.

"That's right, Wool Hat," the man said with a nasty grin. Mike grimaced at the nickname. "I will rule the world, and you boys can't stop me!"

"We'll see about that!" Davy retorted.

"You'll never get away with this," John said.

"Oh no? Now that I am in control of the laboratory, I can create a potion to put everyone under my spell!" Wizard Glick smirked. "But first, I must get rid of you meddling boys."

"Intruders! Intruders!" the robots screamed.

"And how do you propose to do that?" Paul asked.

"Any minute, these robots will send off strong laser beams," Glick explained. "If struck with one, it is not likely that one would survive." The boys gasped. "They will start firing in approximately . . ." Glick checked his watch. "Five minutes. Enjoy yourselves, boys." With that, Glick left the room, locking the door behind.

"Oh, now this is just great," Mike said. "We're locked in a room with a bunch of metal cans that could permanently get rid of us any time!"

"What are we gonna do? What are we gonna do?" Micky cried.

The robots circled the musicians, red lights flashing angrily, ready to fire.

"There has to be a way to switch them off," John said.

The robots started firing sooner than Glick predicted.

"Mike!!" Peter shrieked as a laser beam headed straight for the Texan, who managed to duck just in time.

"We have to find a place to hide!" Peter exclaimed.

"But where?" John demanded, pulling Ringo away just before another laser beam hit right where he'd been standing.

"Over here!" Mike yelled, running behind a desk. The others followed.

"We won't stay protected here for very long," Davy said. "If those beams destroy everything in their path, we're far from safe."

Another laser beam shot out, rendering one of the desk's legs to splinters.

"We need to dump something on them," Paul suggested, just as the entire desk disintegrated. Now there was nothing between the robots and their targets. Micky screamed. Peter started to cry. George fainted. The robots came closer . . . and closer . . .

Suddenly, every robot stopped moving and they all fell over on the floor. The musicians all looked at each other, puzzled. "What happened?" they all asked each other.

Peter slowly lifted his hand off a big red button, looking puzzled.

"Peter! Did you push that button?" Mike asked.

Peter looked at the button. "I don't know, Michael," he said.

"‘ell, you must've," Davy said. "You must've deactivated the robots! Let's hear it for Peter, fellas. ‘e saved us!"

Everyone clapped in gratitude. Peter blushed.

Suddenly Wizard Glick gave a loud scream from outside the door.

"Oh, man, what's up with him?" Mike wondered.

The Monkee and The Beatles rushed over to the door, which, strangely, swung open for them, revealing a long hallway, and at the end, the four good magicians surrounding a large cage in which Glick was being held captive.

"AAAAAARRRRRRGHHHHH!!!" Glick screamed. "Fool! Someone pushed that red button and ruined all my work!!! All my spells have been broken!!!!" He started pounding on the floor of the cage in a temper tantrum. The Monkees and The Beatles looked at the screaming Glick, then at each other, and burst out laughing.

They got the Magical Mystery Tourbus and drove it back to the diner. The tour then proceeded without further incident. The bands arrived at their gig and had a great time doing their concerts. For the grand finale, both bands came out on the stage and all sang "I'm a Believer" and "All You Need is Love."

"Micky?"

"Is he okay?"

"Mick, can you hear me?"

The voices penetrated Micky's consciousness. He slowly opened his eyes.

"Hey, guys! I think he's coming out of it!" Peter exclaimed.

"What . . . what happened?" Micky asked. He couldn't remember anything, except for watching Magical Mystery Tour. Or had he been in the Magical Mystery Tour?

"I think you must've fallen over in your chair and struck your head on something," Mike said.

"Are you alright, Micky?" Davy asked.

Micky slowly got up, looking around him. "Yeah . . . I guess so. Man, that was a weird dream I had! And so realistic too!"

Before he could say any more, the telephone rang. "I'll get it," Mike said, hurrying over. After several minutes, he put it down, an excited and at the same time confused expression on his face.

"What is it, Michael?" Peter asked.

"Somethin' good, I hope," Davy added.

Mike nodded. "That was the owner of some little place called the Magical Mystery Diner. He wants us to perform there tomorrow, along with the Beatles. He said we have to travel on a Magical Mystery Tourbus to get there . . ."

His voice trailed off as he stared at Micky. The drummer's eyes were wide open and he looked totally flabbergasted. "Uh, Micky? Are you okay?" Mike asked. Micky didn't answer.

"Uh, ‘ello, Micky, are you in there?" Davy asked, waving a hand in front of the drummer's eyes.

"Uh, yeah, I'm here," Micky said. "I'm fine. Just fine." Snapping out of his trance, he said, "Guys, before we leave, I think maybe I should tell you my dream, just so we can be prepared for anything that might happen on this Magical Mystery Tour."

The other Monkees looked at each other, puzzled, then turned back to Micky. "Sure. Go ahead, shotgun," Mike said.