Well, I had this amazing dream that I was a member of the Monkees. I wanted to write a story about that, but I decided no one else would be interested. However, I was still quite inspired to write this little thingy here.
I couldn't decide if I wanted to write it in screenplay or story form... But envision it in your head as if you're watching an old episode of the Monkees!
And I actually went online and looked up 1960s zoo exhibit openings and this is based on a real one in... 1968, I believe.
Without further ado, I present to you, The Monkees in the Zoo!
...Stab me for such a cheesy rhyme if you please.
It was a hot day at the Fresno Chaffee Zoo in California. The Monkees had been visiting for the opening of the new birds-of-prey exhibit, but of course they stopped in the monkey house for a while before the revealing of the new edition.
"Hey, look, Davy!" exclaimed Micky, pulling back on the railing in front of the howler monkey cage. "It's a baby monkey."
Davy walked around between Micky and Mike. "Yeah, what about it?"
"Oh, you know, nothing really," Micky smiled, patting Davy on the shoulder and walking away. Mike was left laughing at the fact that the monkey was the smallest of the four in the cage. Davy only made a confused face at Mike, then looked back at Micky and slowly turned and walked away baffled.
"Hey… Hey, guys, come take a look at these guys here," Peter said calling the other boys across the way to a small window case of monkeys. "Golden Lion Tamarin Monkeys" he read from the sign. Micky hopped over and Davy coolly followed.
"Wow, Pete!" Micky laughed. "Hey Mike, come check this out. Dig that hair, man."
The viewing area in front of the window was rather hard to stand by when crowded if one wanted to actually see the monkeys. Mike shuffled over, pushing Peter back behind the other Monkees.
"They look like a bunch of long-haired weirdoes to me," Mike nodded.
"I kind of like it," Davy smiled, looking at the monkeys and crossing his arms.
Peter managed to push his way back between Mike and Davy, pushing Micky away from the glass window.
Peter read the information plate aloud.
"That's some very interesting stuff, Pete," Micky said, sliding in and forcing Mike out.
"Hey," said Mike, squeezing back in as Davy got pushed out. "Who's up for some lunch?"
"I could go for that," Davy said, pulling himself in and moving Peter out. The bit continued on for a moment more and the Monkees eventually went to lunch.
Davy, Peter, and Mike were at a table as Micky was picking up their order. "Hey, Mike, how much time do we have?" Davy asked.
"Oh, uh," Mike checked his watch. "About an hour."
"Hey, why did we come here so early anyway?" Micky asked walking across the nearly-empty room with a tray of food.
"Hey, Micky," Peter started.
"I mean, it's not like the birds are going anywhere."
"Hey, Mick?"
"What are they gonna fly away before the opening?"
"Mick!"
"What, Peter?!"
Micky suddenly slipped in a puddle of a spilled drink on the floor near a sign that read "Caution! Wet Floor" as he fell backwards and the hotdogs and Cokes went flying. The three seated boys leapt up and ran over and helped Micky to his feet. "What a trip!" Peter exclaimed, wiping off Micky's shirt with a napkin. "No puns now, Pete, huh?" Micky smirked.
Just then, an elderly man walked in, rubbing his head. He looked awfully upset about something. He shuffled over to a corner table and sighed heavily. "Oh, dear."
Davy had noticed him.
"Hey, guys…"
The others looked up and around. Davy nodded toward the man and the boys eyed him. Davy didn't look back at them but began walking toward the man in the corner. "Um…" he bent down, trying to see his face. "Excuse me?"
The man suddenly looked up. "Oh, uh… I, I, I'm just a bit…"
"Oh, if I'm bothering you please excuse me."
"No, no, it's not you that's bothering me, my boy. It's just that, oh, those darned birds…" he sighed, rubbing the sides of his eyes. Davy pulled out a chair and the other boys walked over. "Go on, sir, what's the problem? What's this about birds?" Mike asked standing behind Davy.
"You see, I am in charge of the new birds-of-prey exhibit that is having its grand opening today."
"Hey, that's what we came here form right man?" Micky asked Mike, being suddenly shushed by the other boys.
"The bird house is actually a very large new building with a caged roof. The cell for the new birds is its own little caged room within the large building," the man went on.
"So what's the problem?" ask Peter.
"The new birds have escaped into the bigger area. If we could only find them and put them back in their own cage, we could open on schedule."
The Monkees made upset faces. What could be done?
"Oh, man, that stinks," said Micky. "Well, who's up for a new round of hotdogs, huh?" he smiled, cupping his hands together.
"Micky!" the others shouted. The Monkees bent down in a huddle together, their backs to the man.
"Hey, man, we've got to help this guy out," Davy said hushed to the others.
"You're right, Davy, but how?" Peter inquired.
"Is there anything we can do, sir?" Mike asked, standing up from the huddle and turning toward the man.
"Well…" the old man pondered.
The boys were suited up in khaki zookeeper outfits with ashamed faces. "We've always got to do the right thing, don't we?" Davy sighed.
"Oh, I don't know, guys, I kind of dig these clothes," Peter smiled.
Suddenly, a young lady walked in. She had long, straight and brown hair and she was wearing a similar outfit to what the boys had on. She had a small, white monkey on he shoulder and a stack of hats in her hands.
"Oh, you must be—" she started.
"The Monkees!" Peter, Micky, and Mike smiled with funny poses. Davy stood beside them, unmoved. He had locked eyes with the young lady, and oh, how both pairs sparkled at the sight of the other.
"Yes, I see," she smiled while blushing. "Well, guys, these are your hats. They may come in handy."
The boys went up one by one and received their hats. "Ehm, what is your name?" Davy asked the girl.
"I'm Emily," she blushed heavily. "My grandfather, he was the man you met earlier. But you are…?"
"Davy… I'm Davy Jones," he smiled.
The two stared into each other's eyes for a moment. Micky walked over and leaned toward Davy, coughing loudly. Davy snapped out of his infatuation and suddenly became nervous, flipping his hat around in his hands.
"Say, listen, it's really great of you guys to help us out like this. My grandfather and I could never round up the birds on our own."
"Hey, don't worry about it!" Micky grinned. "So what do we need to do?"
"Well," Emily began. "We need to somehow herd the birds back into their own room in the aviary."
The Monkees saluted. "We'll do our best!" they said together, stern faces on.
"Hey, Mick?" Peter asked, back-to-back with Micky. "Yeah, Pete?" The two had large nets in their hands.
"This could get dangerous. If we never make it out of this, I just want you to know that I was the one who used your toothbrush on the bathtub last month," Peter confessed without hesitation.
"Ah, Pete, will you lighten up? It's not like we're going to die or anything. Besides, I'm sure-- wait, that was YOU?"
Peter flinched. "Hey, well, uh, it's not like—hey, look up there!" He pointed up to a vulture that had just perched in a tree above them. He sighed in relief that the bird happened to have come by.
I will continue writing soon! :D Just let me know what you think so far please.
-Pitch