AUTHOR'S NOTE: Rewrite of one of my original stories when I was writing crossovers. I changed it quite a bit. Franky McAlister is a gray area as far as ownership is involved, considering he's a bit of an expy of the character Fluid Man from the 1966 Hanna-Barbera cartoon, "The Impossibles," whom I actually first started using when I first wrote these Monkees stories. The name, however, is mine. Also, Peter's sister Janet belongs to me (I have seen writers throughout the years give the Monkees made up siblings), and so do Mike's aunts Shirley and Edith. There are also references in here to the Monkees episodes "One Man Shy" (such as Valerie Cartwright appearing), "The Devil and Peter Tork," "Monkees in Texas," and "Monkee Mother."
It seemed like just another, regular every day at the Monkees Pad. Peter was on the phone with his girlfriend, Valerie Cartwright, Davy was reading the newspaper, and Micky and Mike were playing cards. Once Peter hung up with Valerie, there was a knock on the door. Davy got up, and opened the door to the window in the door so he could see who it is (although he was too short to see). He opened the door, and standing there was a Western Union man.
"Telegram for Peter Tork," he said.
"That's me," Peter said, as he walked over. He accepted the telegram, and opened it.
"Hey, how 'bout a tip?" the Western Union man asked.
"Buy International Steel at twenty-eight and a half," Mike said, crossing the room to the door. The minute he said that, he shut the door and leaned against it.
"One of these days, these guys are gonna get pretty fed up with that," Micky said. "What's the telegram say, Peter?"
"It's from my mother," Peter said. "Dad's stationed in France, stop. Nick, Chris, and Annie looking forward to it, stop. Franky's being difficult, stop. Wants to stay in the states, stop. We're sending him out to stay with you . . . ."
"Stop!" Mike shouted.
"How'd you know that's what it said?" Peter asked.
"First of all, who in the world is Franky?" Mike asked, ignoring Peter's question.
"Yeah, I thought you only had two brothers," Micky said.
"I do," Peter said. "Franky's my nephew. It's short for Franklin, and he's twelve. He'll be thirteen in September."
"You must be joking!" Davy shouted. "'Ow in the world can you 'ave a twelve-year-old nephew, when your only sistah is about the same age 'erself?!"
"Annie isn't my only sister," Peter said. "I never told you guys this, but I have an older sister named Janet. A much older sister. She was eight when I was born. When I was eight, she got pregnant and had Franky. A couple of months after Franky was born, Jan said she was going out, and then she never came back. My parents raised him. When we were in Connecticut, which was where he was born, we told everyone that Mom had him."
"That's not a good idea," Mike said. "If he grew up thinkin' his grandmother is his mother, and his mother is his sister . . . ."
"Hold it a minute, Mike," Peter said. "Let me explain. Once Franky was old enough, we told him the truth, but we had to tell him to call my parents Mom and Dad whenever we were out in public, and I was supposed to be his big brother. When he was ten, he got tired of that, and just figured let people think what they want, he doesn't care. So when we moved again, he started calling Mom and Dad Grandma and Grandpa, and my siblings Uncle Nick, Uncle Chris, and Aunt Anne."
"What about Uncle Peter?" Micky asked.
"Oh, I moved out when he was eight or nine," Peter said. "He didn't take it well. We were kind of close. So now, I guess my parents are moving again, and Franky's putting his foot down. It's those teenage hormones I guess. Like I said, he's turning thirteen in September."
"When does it say he'll be here?" Mike asked.
"Tomorrow," Peter said, looking at the telegram. "So how about it, Mike? Can he stay here? Huh, can he, huh?"
"No," Mike said, shaking his head. "No, absolutely not. No way, no how."
"Aw, come on, Mike!" Peter shouted.
"Yeah, Mike, what's wrong with that?" Davy asked.
"We can't afford it!" Mike shouted. "We can barely afford the four of us livin' here! What's gonna happen when Babbit finds out we're bringin' a fifth person in?"
"Aw, come on, he'll love Franky!" Peter shouted. "He's a groovy kid. And Mr. Babbit said that he loved kids!"
"That was before I asked him to keep an eye on those kids when we played at Millie Rudnick's weddin'," Mike said. "The answer is no!"
The phone rang just then. Mike picked it up.
"Hello?" he asked. "Aunt Shirley! Hey, good to hear from ya. I haven't heard from you or Aunt Edith in a long time! What's up? Uh huh. Uh huh. Tomorrow? Well, I don't know . . . . Pete's nephew's flyin' in tomorrow too, I don't know if that's such a good time for you two to . . . . well . . . . urgent? Well, what's so urgent? Yes, I realized I just turned twenty-one, what's that got to do with . . . . uh huh. Well, why can't you tell me over the phone? Why not? Well . . . . oh all right. I'll come pick you guys up at the airport tomorrow at . . . . . hey, Pete, do we have to pick up your nephew?"
"No, Mom's actually coming to drop him off," Peter said.
"Okay," Mike replied, and he went back to the phone. "I'll be there around noon. Okay. Okay, see you guys then. Bye."
"What was that all about?" Davy asked, as Mike hung up the phone.
"That was my Aunt Shirley from Massachusetts," Mike said. "She and my Aunt Edith are comin' in tomorrow. They said they have somethin' important to tell me. They would've told me on my twenty-first birthday, but they couldn't make it over. So they're just gonna tell me now."
"What is it?" Micky asked.
"Beats me," Mike said with a shrug. "They wouldn't tell me. They said it was too big to tell me over the phone. In any case, Pete, I'll give Babbit the heads up over the kid, and we'll let him live here for a week or so and see how things go."
"Thanks, Mike!" Peter shouted. "You're the best!"
"Yeah, I am, aren't I?" Mike asked.
"You're also very modest," Micky said, giving Mike a thump in the shoulder.
Mike glared at Micky, and walked over to the couch to read the newspaper.