The Young Ones Monkees
By Melisssa
Part Two: The Barricade

"I just don't know, man. It looks like we're stuck with them for now," Mike said. Davy, Micky, Mike and Peter were sitting on the back patio looking about as cheerful as a turkey a week before Thanksgiving. Their new "roommates" were inside huddled around the television oblivious to the other four's discomfort.
"You couldn't reach Mr. Babbit at all?" asked Peter.
"Nope. I've been trying for the past hour. I must have called twenty times, and I've been up to his apartment twice."
"It's got to be some kind of mistake. I mean, come on! Mr. Babbit wouldn't do something like this to us, his favourite tenants," said Micky.
The others shot him dubious looks.
"Look, even Mr. Babbit would have told us if he'd rented this place out again," Davy said firmly and then added, "wouldn't he?"
"I know!" said Micky suddenly jumping up. "We have to take action! This is war! Are you with me men?!"
The others glanced at him quizzically. Micky took their silence in stride and went on.
"Here's the plan," he said producing a map that looked nothing like the pad which, upon closer inspection, proved to be a field somewhere in Outer Mongolia. "We wait 'till they're asleep, and then," he paused, glancing at each man in turn for dramatic effect, "we strike! We throw them all out the window and barricade the door!" he said almost maniacally.
"What door?" asked Davy.
"The front door."
"We don't have a front door anymore," Mike reminded him.
"Oh yeah," Micky paused for a moment considering this. "Well then we barricade the back door!"
"And what happens when they come in through the front door?" Mike queried.
Micky shrugged. "Well, every plan has it's flaws."
"Come on guys, we have to think sensibly," said Mike. Once more, the dubious looks returned.
"I don't suppose we could marry them off," stated Davy with an impish grin.
"Why don't we just go talk to them," suggested Peter an innocent smile playing across his face. "Maybe they know what's going on."
"I never thought I'd say this, but good idea, Pete!" Micky said, when suddenly, he heard a shattering sound. All four spun around to see what was the matter. "Or than again, maybe not."

"God I'm bored," said Vyvyan. "We've only been here an hour and I'm totally, mind-numbingly, stupidly bored."
Rick grinned. "Well you didn't have very far go, Vyvyan."
Vyvyan ignored Rick's comment. Instead of responding, he got up from his seat in front of the television, picked the chair up previously occupied by his bottom, walked over to the kitchen and threw it out the window. "Even mindless violence seems dull today." He picked up another chair from the kitchen, walked back over to where he'd been sitting, put it in the space where his last chair been, picked it back up and smashed it over Rick's head.
"What was that for!?" exclaimed Rick.
"I was bored!" Vyvyan hollered.
"Well thank you, Vyvyan! That's just what I needed to make my television watching experience more enjoyable!" Rick said sarcastically.
"Was it?" asked Vyvyan. He picked up a nearby lamp and, like the chair, smashed it over Rick's head.
"You bastard!" shouted Rick leaping up from his seat on the sofa clutching his head. "You knew I was being sarcastic!"
"No I didn't!" Vyvyan hollered in reply.
"Yes you did!"
"Didn't!"
"Did!"
"Didn't!"
"Did!"
"Look, guys," Mike said commandingly. "I'm trying to watch T.V. And while I'm certain your conversation's intellectual content alone is worth my attention, I'd rather watch Scooby Doo. So be quiet or I'll have to do something drastic."
"Sorry Mike," Rick and Vyvyan muttered as they settled down in their previous positions before the television. Rick looked furtively from Mike on his right to Vyvyan on his left and after a few moments, spoke up.
"Anyway, Vyvyan started it!"
"No I didn't!" shouted Vyvyan.
"Did!"
"Didn't!"
"You did so!" retorted Rick picking up a nearby vase and dropping it over Vyvyan's head.
"Now that," Vyvyan began, grabbing Rick by the collar, "was not very nice."
Rick responded by tweaking Vyvyan on the arm.
"So it's a fight you want!?"
"Guys, guys," Neil intervened peacefully. "We shouldn't be fighting like this . . ."
Rick and Vyvyan glanced at each other. "No?" asked Rick.
Vyvyan let go of Rick's jacket. "How should be be fighting, Neil?"
"No. I mean, like, we should be nice to each other. You know, live in peace and harmony and, like, love our fellow man, right."
"Ha!" shouted Rick as Vyvyan punched Neil in the stomach and threw him into the nearest wall. "I suppose you've loved a lot of your fellow men, have you?" laughed Rick with a snort.
"Yeah! You pervy!" added Vyvyan.
"So that's what you get up to with your hippie friends, is it!? Smoke a little something . . . down come the trousers and out come the willies! It's no wonder the pigs are always after your type."
"Yeah, they probably want to watch," added Vyvyan.
"That's not true guys!" Neil pleaded from the floor.
Vyvyan grinned. "Right, now where were we?" he asked heading in Rick's direction.
Rick thought for a moment. "Uh, you were just about to hit me in the face."
"Oh, right."
"Okay that's it," Mike began before Vyvyan could complete his task. "I didn't want to do this, but you've left me no alternative."
"What Mike?" asked Neil as he picked himself up off the floor.
"I'm calling a house meeting."
"A house meeting!" echoed the others in unison.
"That's right. In the broom cupboard in," he paused to glance down at his watch, "fifteen seconds."
At that announcement, the four men all darted off in different directions. They hadn't gone far when they realized something rather important. Each stopped dead in his tracks and stared ahead. Slowly, the group converged in the exact place from which they'd departed. They stood glancing at the floor not wanting to make eye contact. It was Neil who asked the all-important question.
"Where is the broom cupboard, Mike?"
"That's a very good question, Neil." He paused showing no sign of continuing. A few moments passed while he casually surveyed the room. Sighing as though the house had let him down, he finally continued. "Never mind, lads, we'll go to plan B. House meeting, kitchen," he glanced down at his watch, "fifteen seconds." Just as before, all four men ran off in different directions. After about 30 seconds and a surprisingly small amount of damage, they all settled at the kitchen table.
"Now," began Mike clapping his hands. He paused surveying those assembled. "Wait a minute, where are the others? When Mike TheCoolPerson calls a house meeting, he expects the whole house to show." They all looked toward the patio where the Monkees could be seen through the glass doors. When the four men there showed no sign of moving, Mike continued. "Vyvyan go and get our simian friends, will you?"
"What?"
"He means those monkey fellows," Rick explained.
"Huh?"
"The people on the porch!" Rick explained further.
"Oh!" said Vyvyan, standing up.
Rick shook is head in frustration, adding, "And hurry up!"
Vyvyan took off running for the patio doors. Upon reaching them, however, he decided opening them would be too easy and instead rammed his head through the glass.
Micky, Davy, Mike and Peter whirled around. "Or than again, maybe not," said Micky.
"What the . . ." began Mike.
"Don't you people ever open the door?" asked Micky.
"Sometimes! Anyway, your presence is required in the kitchen," he said, his head still poking through the shattered pane.
"What?" asked Davy.
"We're having a house meeting in the kitchen!" he shouted before dislodging his head and staggering away.
None of them moved for a long time as though stillness would make their problems go away. Finally, Davy gathered the courage to peer around the corner into the kitchen. The scene was frighteningly normal. Frightening in that he'd almost expected something completely ludicrous, like say a satanic ritual or a mass orgy. Instead, he saw Vyvyan had plunked himself down in a chair and was engrossed in picking at his fingernails, Neil was hustling nervously around the kitchen searching through the cabinets, Mike, the other Mike that is, sat leaning back in his chair, his feet positioned casually on the table, and Rick sat legs crossed staring smugly towards the patio. Upon noticing Davy, he glanced down at his watch expectantly. His eyes wide from the strangely ordinary scene, Davy looked to his friends. He was about to speak when . . .
"Well guys, looks like we've been called," said Micky heading inside. "Sure you don't want to barricade the door?"
Peter followed Micky inside then, reluctantly, so did Davy while Mike stood his ground a moment thinking. "Nah!" he said after some consideration before following the others to the kitchen.