AUTHOR'S NOTE: I feel I have to say this with every Monkees fanfic I write. Please read my fanfic "Monkee Magic" before reading anything else I write, because it explains a lot, such as where Franky McAlister comes from, and how Mike got magic powers. Kthnxbye.
It was Friday afternoon, which meant school was out for the weekend, and that meant the Monkees had to deal with Peter's thirteen-year-old nephew, Franky, being home during the day for the next two days. And that wasn't going to be easy, considering Franky was a very active kid, and got bored fairly easy. Micky took him to the park to play catch, and by the time they got back, he was exhausted.
"Hi guys!" Franky shouted.
"Hey, how was your game?" Peter asked.
"Great," Franky said. "I wanted to play some more, but Micky got tired."
Micky groaned, and flopped down on the couch. He felt like his limbs were made out of lead.
"You okay, Mick?" Peter asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Micky said. "What does that kid run on, anyway? High octane?"
"Don't you usually 'ave enough energy to 'andle Franky?" Davy asked.
"Yeah, I know," Micky said. "I usually do, but even I can't go non-stop like Franky! I'm wiped!"
"Okay, Micky, we'll give you a hand tomorrow," Mike said. "We don't have anythin' to do, so why don't we all go to the park, and see if we can get Franky to tire out."
The next day, the Monkees took Franky to the park, and began playing baseball over on the baseball field. Of course it wasn't easy playing baseball with only five people, but they managed. They all just took turns at bat and playing the field. At one point, Mike was pitching, and he was about to throw the ball to Davy, who was at bat, when he suddenly stopped, and began rubbing his right temple.
"Oooh!" he shouted.
"What's the mattah, Mike?" Davy asked.
"I don't know, man," Mike said. "I just got this sudden pain here."
"Maybe we've been playing too long," Micky said. "I heard overactivity can cause headaches."
"You sure it isn't a migraine?" Davy asked.
"No . . . ." Mike said, massaging his temple. "No, I think I'm okay. It's startin' to clear up."
"Okay, then," Micky said. "PLAY BALL!"
Mike pitched the baseball, but the minute he did, he felt that same pain in his temple again. He hissed, and began massaging it again.
"Mike, ah you sure you're okay?" Davy asked. "Do you want an Aspirin or something?"
"Maybe we should call it quits, man," Peter said.
"No, it isn't that," Mike said. "I don't know why, but . . . . well, I got the funny feelin' this pain in my temple is tellin' me somethin's not right. Like there's trouble somewhere close by."
"You've got a headache and you think it's telling you there's trouble?" Micky asked.
"Looks like Mike the Magic Monkee found a new ability," Davy said.
"That must be it," Mike said. "This has gotta be linked with my warlock powers."
Before anyone could say anything, something whizzed by overhead.
"What was that?!" Micky shouted.
"Maybe it was a UFO," Peter said.
"That, or the Four Martians advertising a gig," Davy said.
"You really think it's a UFO, Mike?" Franky asked.
"I don't know, but I have a feelin' that's what's causin' this sudden headache," Mike said, massaging his temple.
"'Ow can you be sure?" Davy asked.
"Call it a hunch," Mike said. "Come on, let's go check this out."