Dare Round:
"Okay round 5!" Micky said enthusiastically.
"5? Wouldn't this technically be 6 since we told two truths last round, therefore being rounds 4 and 5?" Davy questioned.
"Semantics, Jones." Micky waved away Davy's question.
"I don't think you're using that term right," Peter corrected.
"I can't think straight right now!" Micky shouted excitedly. "Mike just proposed a round of dares! My creative juices are flowing."
"Oh here we go. Mike, why'd ya have to go encouraging him like this?" Davy complained.
"Needed to get the heat off me somehow," Mike answered. "Mick, you first. Who has a good one?"
"I do, I do!" Peter exclaimed.
"I don't feel as though this will be up to par," Davy said.
Mike kicked Davy slightly. "Go ahead, Shotgun."
"I think for the rest of the game you should wear some of Davy's clothes," Peter announced triumphantly.
"I'm game," Micky said pleased with the lack of complexity.
"Now wait just a minute," Davy protested. "That bean pole over there is going to stretch my clothes out! I'm not going to fit in them anymore!"
"Don't worry, maybe that will give you incentive to grow into them," Micky joked having already hustled into Davy and Peter's room. He was shoving himself into one of Davy's black and white striped shirts and some black slacks. Both items of clothing made Micky look like his own clothes had shrunk in the laundry; the shirt sleeves were halfway up his forearms and the pants had the same effect on his calves. "So this is how the other half, I mean the half my size, lives."
"Just don't ruin my things you behemoth," Davy pouted.
Micky put his arm around Davy and leaned in close. "You know what would make you feel better? A dare of your own!"
"Yeah, show us everything in your wallet," Mike yelled out.
Micky stared wide eyed. "Mike! This was an opportunity and it's now wasted!"
"Now, now Micky, fair is fair. Here you go fellas; a dollar, license, bus schedule, a picture of myself..."
Davy pulled and shook out the contents of his wallet which further revealed nothing scandalous at all.
"Why do you have a picture of yourself?" Peter asked.
"Isn't it obvious? I need reminding of how handsome I am sometimes."
"I think Peter wants a copy for his own wallet," Micky joked nudging Peter. "I'm just wondering where the rubbers are? Not planning on practicing safe sex once the opportunity presents itself?"
"Oh come off it," Davy said irritably as he shoved the contents of his wallet back in.
"Okay, now let me do this next one since clearly you all learned dares from little kids," Micky ridiculed.
"To be fair this is a childish game," Mike countered.
"Peter," Micky started ignoring Mike's comment, "I dare you to ding-dong ditch Mr. Babbitt."
Peter had a look of shock and concern on his face.
"What the bloody hell is ring-a-ding whatever?" Davy asked.
"Ding-dong ditch is when you ring someone's doorbell and then run away so there's no one there when they open the door," Micky explained finding it difficult to contain his laughter.
"That's it? That was the brilliant…" Davy criticized.
"I can't do that," Peter interrupted.
"Sure you can it's easy you just ring the doorbell and run and hide behind the bush next to his front door. Nothing could be easier."
Peter shook his head. "I think that's mean to do to someone."
"Are you saying you are passing then?" Mike clarified.
"Yeah, I can't do that."
"I'm disappointed in you, Pete," Micky shook his head. "But that means I get to come up with a truth. Give me a minute."
Peter looked on in panic as Micky took a long time thinking about a truth question.
"Oh for heaven sakes Micky! You're making him nervous," Mike scolded.
"Okay, okay. Peter, we already know that you spied on naked Davy and have the hots for him…"
"Shut up!" Davy yelled.
"…but of the three of us, who would be the worst person to actually date?"
"I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings."
"That's too bad because you've already passed so you have to answer now," Micky pestered.
Peter nervously began wringing his hands together trying to come up with an answer. It was obvious he didn't want to say the wrong thing. His ears turned bright red and he continued to look down at his fidgeting hands.
"Davy." Peter said abruptly.
"What?" Davy blurted out offended. "You must be joking!"
"You're not my type."
"From what I've been hearing tonight, I very much am your type."
"Don't be offended," Peter tried to smooth things over, "There is no doubt that you're attractive, however I don't think you're the type to settle down any time soon."
"I could settle down if I found the right person."
"What are we doing here?" Mike interjected. "Why are you trying to convince him that you're boyfriend material right now?"
"I just don't think he's giving me a fair chance," Davy folded his arms.
"Good thing neither of you are actually trying to date each other then," Mike said dragging his hand down the length of his face. "Now is my dare that I get to run away and never come back to this ridiculous place?"
"Oh Mike, you'd miss us too much," Peter said trying to ignore the moping Brit.
"You'd think that," Mike said. "Now what is my real fate?"
"I think you need to even things out and shave your other arm," Davy suddenly exclaimed.
Mike's face began to redden. "I can't."
"You've already passed! That's not how the game works," Micky complained.
Mike sighed. "It's not that…I already shaved this arm too." Mike rolled up his right sleeve to reveal his other bare arm.
"Why'd you do a thing like that?" Davy asked confused.
"I didn't want to look ridiculous or to feel…unbalanced."
"Makes sense to me," Peter defended Mike.
"Now that statement and who it's coming from makes sense to me and should be telling to you, Mike," Davy said.
"Okay, new dare then…let me make you a drink," Micky stated.
"Is that the dare or are you offering something to make me forget this night is happening?"
"I'm going to make a concoction and you have to drink it."
"What if it kills me?"
"Don't be ridiculous! It won't kill you…I think."
"That's reassuring," Mike said sarcastically
Micky walked over to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. No one was able to see what he was mixing in as he moved about the kitchen stealthily. He came back over with a seemingly normal looking glass of water.
"I'm surprised you could find anything in the kitchen to put in that water," Davy commented.
"It almost doesn't look like he did," Mike said examining the glass. "What are these specks?"
"Never mind, just drink it!" Micky demanded.
Mike plugged his nose and gulped down the glass of water. Afterwards, he unplugged his nose and began to cough. He ran to the kitchen to get a regular glass of water.
"What was that?" Mike sputtered.
"Salt, pepper, and cinnamon," Micky explained.
"It tasted like tar."
"I may have put more pepper than anything."
Mike regained his composure and rejoined the group.
"Let's recap the score," Micky said in his best sports announcer voice. "Mike used his pass early on in the game refusing to spill the beans about his criminal past. Peter decided to pass to stick to his life of innocence, a far cry from Mr. Nesmith's character. Now Dolenz and Jones are the only contenders left, vying for the prize of how we will spend Friday nights for the next few months. These are the standings going into the final round."