Yes this is a repost. I hope that doesn't bother anyone too much. I am posting this all in one go. I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter 1.
Micky was excited, the RCA new bands competition was in two weeks and the Monkees had a reasonable chance of winning this year.
"I'm telling ye guys after this competition I'm gonna sleep for a month." He told the others as they ate their cereal and Peter burnt waffles.
~o~
"Pete I think those waffles are done man" Mike told him, coughing slightly at the smoke wafting from the kitchen.
"But they didn't pop" Peter told him. "Aren't they supposed to pop up".
"No, it's not a toaster, it's a waffle iron" Mike told him.
"Probably still should pop" Peter frowned surveying the black smoking lump that used to be a waffle.
"Next time do your waffles in the toaster" Davy said.
"Ok guys knock it off, the new bands competition is in two weeks and if we don't win, we will be washing dishes at Cassoni's pizza restaurant for the rest of our days. Mr Babbitt ain't goin to wait forever for his rent money." Mike told them pointedly.
"I hate to interject here Mike, but aren't we putting a little too much emphasis on winning this competition?, a plan B might be good here" Davy asked.
Mickey shot up his hand.
"Davy volunteers to come up with a plan B" he grinned.
"Yeah, you all starve and I move back to England." Davy said, draining the last of his tea.
"Well now that Peter has finished eating...whatever the hell Peter was eating, I vote we get to our instruments and put in some practice time". Mike told them, heading to his much loved acoustic guitar.
"I don't have a plan B Dave, I don't even have a plan A, but if we win this competition it will go a long way towards paying our debts." Mike told him as he began to tune up.
~o~
Across town, Eddie and the Bad Lads were having a much needed pep talk with their manager.
"You get breakfast when you put in a descent tune" Max Highland told them.
"That practice session yesterday was abysmal. I don't know how you expect to win this competition."
"We ain't going to win anyway boss, the Monkees have it all sewn up" Eddie, the lead singer frowned.
"All the girls love the little guy and Tork plays a mean piano. He's the best in the business."
"I'm not hearing this defeatist attitude." Max pounded the desk with his hand.
"You've just got to try harder, your rifts have to punch, you harmonies need to be spot on, it needs to swing."
~o~
Just then the door to his office swung wide and all fell silent as Laurence Nash entered. He was a self assured imposing character with tons of money and questionable friends.
He had agreed to sponsor the boys, buying instruments and studio time but Max had since felt it might have been unwise to take him as a sponsor.
Judging by the thugs he kept with him on every occasion and the constant stream of phone calls at odd hours it was becoming clear he wasn't someone they should be dealing with. But how to tell him that?.
"Who are the Monkees?" he asked, lighting up a thick expensive cigar.
"They're a rock band, they rent out the beach house across from Larry's Diner" Eddie told him.
"I see; and you're worried they will win?" He asked evenly.
"Well, yeah" Eddie shuffled nervously.
"Well why didn't you scare them off" Laurence said, blowing smoke in Eddies face.
"Scare...?" Eddie didn't know what to say. He didn't hate the Monkees. He played tennis with Mickey when they were young. He just hated that they were better musicians.
"Yes scare them off, must I do everything?. Ok, continue practicing and don't worry about the Monkees. I'll take care of it."
Laurence Nash exited the room then with supreme confidence.
Max was ruffled "ok fellas, you heard the man, get some breakfast then get to work." He told them before heading out of his office to catch Laurence at the elevator.
"Eh sorry Larry," he began awkwardly.
"Laurence" he told him coldly.
"Yeah Laurence, what do you mean exactly when you say you'll take care of it?"
Laurence walked slowly to where the other man stood and then without warning he threw him up against the wall.
"Don't ever question me, do you understand."
Max nodded his head in a jerky motion, his limbs shaking.
"Just have them ready to win" Laurence patted the side of the mans face before releasing him.
"You'll be hearing from me".
Laurence's henchmen joined him in the lift along with a scantily dressed woman with long legs and too much makeup. The lift door closed on them and Max finally let out his breath and pulled his shirt colour back into place. What had he gotten himself into.
~o~
"Ok someone is going to have to go for pizza, I can't concentrate" Mickey told them, putting down his drumsticks in protest.
"Mickeys becoming a diva already" Davy smirked.
"Mickey will ya just do one more song and I'll go for pizza and garlic bread" Mike asked him.
"Ok what song?" Mickey picked up his drumsticks with renewed energy at the prospect of food.
"Goin Down" Mike told him.
"Goin Down?, we'll be here all night" Mickey protested anew.
Mike laughed at Mickeys affronted face.
"Ok fellas, I presume we're having the usual, ham and pineapple" Mike told them as he grabbed his jacket.
"Can I have cheese bites as well?" Peter asked.
"Cheese bites as well" Mike repeated as he headed out.
~o~
Mike picked up the pizza and cheese bites at Larry's and headed back across the road towards the beach house. Just on the corner a man was standing looking lost and forlorn. He beckoned to Mike as he held his map up.
Mike sauntered over.
"Can I help?" Mike asked amicably.
"Yeah I'm looking for a particular street but I'm not so sure of the name".
Mike bent to look at the map not noticing the four guys exiting the alley behind him. The man suddenly dropped the map and pushed Mike into the grip of the other four men. Quicker than anything they dragged him into the alley and got to work.
"What's taking Mike, he's been gone a while" Mickey wondered.
"You know Mike, he probably got talking to some friend or other" Davy shrugged.