It was another night at the discotheque. We did another of our gigs. Mike on guitar, Peter on keyboard, Micky on drums, and me on maracas. We were the Monkees. Mike was singing "Tapioca Tundra".
Everyone was dancing to the beat. It was an awesome night. We did a few more songs, then sat down at a booth table to rest. In stepped a redhead with a buret and an open jacket. Underneath was a midriff-baring red T-shirt with a white smiling flower on it. She walked over to our table.
"Hi. Um... Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full," she stuttered.
"Sure. Not at all," I said.
Sitting down, the girl exhausted herself from what seemed to be a hard day for her. I was staring at her as if I was frozen solid. Mike waved his hands in front of my eyes, but I wouldn't budge.
"It's no use. He's in love" said Peter to Micky
Mike tried again, but still nothing. Then he blew into my ear, which always works. I flinched and turned around, rubbing my ear.
"C'mon. She's a groovy kid!" I said
"Davy, you can't fall in love with every girl you run into," said Mike "It's distracting."
The girl then turned around in my direction, then Mike changed his mind.
"Oh, WOW! What a GROOVY chick!" he exclaimed.
"Um... Aren't you the Monkees?" she said
"Hello!" we all sang.
Nervous, she stuck her hand out and said "I'm Lammy."
I shook. "Lammy. That's a cute name. I'm Davy. Are you new here?"
"Yeah. Um... I moved yesterday," she sighed, "Um... I'm trying to escape my troubles in my hometown."
"You wanna go out some time, Lammy?"
"Really? Um... that would be nice. Where do you live?"
Not wanting to say my address out loud and attract too many girls, I whispered so that she would be the only one to know. Then she kissed me, get up, and left.
"Aw, snap. I forgot to ask about that hat she has on!" I complained.
"Why? You wanna get under it with her?" asked Peter, who was not so bright.
"It just looked so strange. I didn't get her telephone number."
The next day, we were back at the pad up in Malibu. Peter was trying to get the others to dig this guitar tango he learned, but none of the other lads were interested. Then I heard a knock at the door. I went to look through the peep hole, but as I was short, I couldn't see out of it. I opened the door, and it was Lammy, with the same hat on from last night.
"Um... Hi, Davy. So this is your place?" she said,
"Yep. Together with me and the lads, a Frodis, and Mr. Schnider."
"Um... What's a Frodis?"
"It's just a friendly alien that we saved from world domination. (It's a long story. Go watch the series finale sometime.)"
"And Mr. Schnider?"
Micky walked over to our dummy.
"What kind of friendly advice do you have for us today, Mr. Schnider?" said Micky, pulling a spring.
A recorded voice from Mr. Schnider said "The shame to wait you darn children."
Lammy giggled "Um... I have to go. I came to give you my address and number so you can call me."
She gave me a hand-written card, and then she left.
So that night, I was at the mirror, coming my hair, while Mike was throwing darts at a picture of Don Kirshner.
"Hey, Davy," said Mike, "Goin to that new girl's place?"
"Yep. It's booked!"
"Got your coat and hat? It might rain!" said Micky, playing barber on our stuffed monkey (Our Producer.)
"Don't forget your car fare!" said Peter, who came out of the elevator landing with the Frodis.
"The Englishman said he was walking," the Frodis said, "Will you prepare the table for our game of cards?"
I headed out the door, with the same coat and hat I used to wear in '65. It still fits!
Meanwhile, at Lammy's flat, which was upstairs from some sort of laundromat, Lammy was getting ready as well, when the phone rang. She picked up.
"Hello, Lammy!" said a sinister voice. Lammy groaned.
"Um... Hello, Rammy"
"'Hello Rammy'? That's all I get? Where have you been?"
"I'm in Malibu, and there's nothing you can do about it."
"Nothing I ca do about it, huh? Well, guess what. You're in big trouble."
"What for?"
"Remember that night at Teriyaki Yoko's concert, uh..., 'down there'?"
"Sorta."
"And when I crashed there late and you filled in for me? I was going to challenge you to a guitar duel and you run away from me!"
"Guitar duel? Well, um... I was late for a gig with my own band."
"That band is important to you? I was in the audience with that crazy dog friend of yours..."
"PaRappa."
"Whatever. And YOU didn't come up to my spot. You ignored me! I'm still waiting for you to accept that challenge."
"Rammy, why are you even called a ram?"
"Why do they call you a LAMB, LAMMY? You look more like a poodle or a goat if you ask me!"
"SAME AS YOU," Lammy couldn't take it anymore, "Rams are supposed to have horns anyway. Don't you ever look up Google Images?"
"In case you didn't know, I had horn surgery because they got in the way when I comb my hair. What did YOU have surgery for?!"
"Nothing."
"That's it," Rammy yelled, "Now I'm gonna stick my middle finger in THIS mouthpiece, out of YOUR receiver, and in YOUR EAR!"
"Try me."
Lammy quickly frusted the phone away as Rammy did said procedure.
"You missed." Lammy said
"Ugh! Now you listen here: I'm coming over your place in Malibu, and challenge you to that guitar duel," Rammy heard a click on the phone, "DON'T HANG UP ON ME, LAMMY!"
Lammy was thankful that she was off the line. Then the phone rang again. It was Rammy.
"Lammy," she murmured, "Where's Malibu?"
A few minutes passed, and I was at the door to Lammy's upstairs flat. It started raining cats and dogs, and I had to get in, so I desperately pounded on the door. I saw Lammy (with the hat on) sneak down the stairs as if someone evil was here. She quickly pulled the door open, and then sighed in relief that it was me.
"Oh, Davy. It's good to see you. I thought you were someone else," she said.
I slipped in and followed her up the stairs up to her flat.
"Groovy pad you got here, Lammy," I said as I stepped through the door upstairs.
"Well, um..., it ain't much." said Lammy.
"Why do you stutter all the time?"
"It's all right. I'm just, um..., shy."
"Oh. I feel sorry to hear that."
Lammy picked up her guitar, held it the other way around, and played a song that sounded like "Tubular Bells". I sat down beside her.
"Wow, Lammy. I didn't know you could play guitar like that."
"Thanks."
"I have this friend who can also play guitar left-handed."
"Who's that?"
"Jimi Hendrix!"
"Nice," said Lammy, and continued her song. She finished, and then we went to the kitchen for a cup of tea. We drank a bit, then I told her my story about how I used to be the Artful Dodger in "Oliver!", and how I met the other lads and became the Monkees.
"What's your old town like?" I asked her.
Lammy sighed and then started to explain, "I lived in this place called Rodneytown, and um..., the majority of the population were, um..., anthropomorphic. I made friends with this cat named Katy, and a mouse called Ma-San. We formed a band called 'MilkCan', and we did every venue in Rodneytown. After that, um..., I left to find new friends and escape my troubles, but we still keep in touch."
"And I am your first new friend?"
"Well, um..., I think so."
The storm was over, and it was almost midnight. Lammy and I went into her car, and we took a night-time drive around Highway 1. The road was blank, and we were practically the only ones there. We drove down a bit, then went up a ramp, and down to the Santa Monica Pier. The pier too was empty, except some rides and their operators. We went to the very end of the pier and, and watched the moon's reflection on the water. Then I remembered to ask why Lammy always had a hat on in my presence.
"Lammy," I said, "I forgot to point this out before, but that's a nice buret you have on."
"Thanks," she said, "It was a going away present from Katy."
"Can I try it on?"
She quickly stretched it down tight on her head. From that, I could tell she didn't want to take it off.
"Oh, I get it. There's something under there, and you don't want to embarrass yourself in front of others."
"Um... sorta." she said shockingly.
"Come on. You can spill. I'm not afraid. Mike wears a wool hat all the time, and usually keeps a reserved twenty under there."
Lammy, convinced enough, slowly lifted off her hat, to reveal two small floppy ears on the top of her head. Lammy was a SHEEP. I wasn't afraid.
"Go ahead. Laugh if you want. Baa." said Lammy, shy as she could be.
"It's okay," I said, rubbing her on the back, "I forgive you. I like sheep. It kinda reminds me of a song me and the boys sang."
As I sang, Lammy started to smile. I kissed her gently. We got in the car and started to head home. By the time we got to the door, Lammy withdrew her keys, and searching for the right one, she saw her shadow in the window. Instead of the shadow holding her keys, it looked like she was giving herself the middle finger. Lammy found the right key, and bringing her hand down, she saw the shadow bring down the finger as well. The door opened slowly, and Lammy shocked to find out who was waiting for us.
"So THERE you are!" said Rammy, blocking the doorway, "I had to find out where this dump was on my iPhone's GPS, and it didn't help me a bit! How dare you go out after midnight!"
Rammy then turned to me.
"Well, Lammy. Who's your pint-sized friend?" she said (They always pick on me because I'm short).
"Um... This is Davy Jones. He's British," explained Lammy.
"Davy Jones, huh?" said Rammy, with an evil sneer. With that, she tied me and Lammy in a rope together.
"All, right. Get in the back." she yelled, pointing to Lammy's car's trunk.
Lammy was confused. Why Davy, she thought. Then she had the courage to pipe up.
"What does Teriyaki Yoko want with Davy?"
"HER? She fired me," said Rammy
"So who's your master now?!" Lammy asked, still in confusion.
"Did I ever mention that I'm now working for DON KIRSHNER?!"
I screamed in fright, and Lammy joined in, not knowing who Kirshner was.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Monkees were back at the pad. Mike was teaching a game of chess to the frodis.
"Okay, Frodis. Your king is in check. You just have to move it to a safe spot on the board," explained Mike.
The frodis moved his king back one space with his plant-like hands, and knocked over some of his queen. Mike pulled it back up.
"See, if you knock over a piece, it means you resign. So watch those hands of yours."
Peter, playing a guitar, sitting against a silver pillow, said "I wonder how Davy's doing with Lammy."
Me and Lammy, freed from the ropes, were still locked in her car's trunk, with Rammy at the wheel.
"We gotta find a way out. Do you think this car has Wi-Fi?" I said, withdrawing my phone.
"Beats me. Give it a try." said Lammy, taking her phone out as well, "Who are you calling?"
"The boys."
"Checkmate", said Mike back at the pad "Your king is trapped and there is no safe place nearby. In other words, I win."
Then the phone rang. Mike lifted up the chessboard and picked up the phone underneath.
"Hello? Hi, Davy. What? You and Lammy are trapped? Lammy is a lamb? Rammy works for Kirshner? I'll be there as soon as I can. Hang on. I have another caller," Mike pressed the button, "Hello? Hi, Lammy! Yes, Davy told me. I'll be over to save you." It turned out that Lammy also called the pad on her iPhone at the same time I did.
The boys jumped into the Monkeemobile, and with Peter at the wheel, set off to find Rammy. As they drove, Mike explained what happened.
"So Davy said that Lammy turned out to be a talking sheep from this place called Rodneytown, and her doppelganger kidnapped the two, and now she's taking them to Don Kirshner"
"That's bad," said Peter, then looked down at the radio Mike modified in '97, "Should I go into another dimension and land somewhere else?"
"Go ahead, but be careful."
Peter pushed a button. There was a flash, and they ended up in Malibu, 1967.
"Now press the middle button to go back," said Mike
Peter did so, but they landed on Hollywood and Vine.
"We're too far. Try another one," said Mike, in distress.
Peter pushed the buttons on the radio. He pushed one button for Outer Space, then pressed in the middle. They landed in New York City. Another button led to the world through the eyes of Andy Warhol, and they found themselves at San Francisco, then Outer Space again, then Highway 1, where Rammy's car whizzed by.
"There they are," said Micky, "Now, how are we going to occupy Rammy while we get Davy and Lammy out of the trunk?"
"I got an idea!" exclaimed Mike
Stay tuned for Mike's idea.
Rammy sped the car down the highway, and as she passed beneath the Santa Monica pier, Mike, Peter, and Micky, in the disguise of officers, followed behind her in a motorcycle, and signaled to pull her over.
Micky walked to Rammy.
"All right, you little rascal. Slow down or I'll cuff you. Now pay the speeding fine."
While Rammy forked over the money, Peter went up front, and hacked into the radio system, placing in a sound chip, and deactivating the buttons. Micky, had the money piled in his hands, but gived it back to Rammy.
"This is your third offense, and there's no way money will help you," said Micky.
"Well, what do you want?" said Rammy.
"Your keys."
Rammy reluctantly forked over the car keys, then Micky quickly tossed them to Mike at the back of the car. Mike used the keys to open the trunk, and Lammy and I were set free for good.
"All right, talking ram", insulted Micky, "Carry on."
Remembering she game Mickey her keys, Rammy pulled out a hairpin from her pocket, and madly sped away.
Davy sighed in relief and said "At least we're out."
"What did you do up front Peter?" said Mike, curious.
"Remember 'High Anxiety'?" said Peter, and everyone knew what he was talking about.
Rammy turned on the radio, and it loudly blasted
HEY HEY, WE'RE THE MONKEES
PEOPLE SAY WE MONKEY AROUND
over and over again. Rammy couldn't turn it down or off or anything. She turned off the motor, but it was still going. Rammy couldn't take it anymore, so she leaped out of Lammy's car as it fell of the highway, onto a beach, and crashed in front of a rock.
The sheep was left without a car, and we offered to take her back in the Monkeemobile. She accepted the offer, and we dropped her off at her flat, where surprisingly stood her old friends, Katy and Ma-San. Arriving home at one in the morning, we went straight to bed, and I knew this was one of the strangest dates of my life.
If you were wondering what happened to Rammy, she had to walk the rest of the way to Don Kirshner's lair, where she admits she had failed in kidnapping a Monkee. She was fired, and moved back to Rodneytown.