Micky yawned, they had been on the train for about an hour, and he was bored. "I'm gonna go exploring," he said finally. Mike looked up at him. "You realize we're on a train?" He asked. Micky nodded. "That doesn't mean there's nothing interesting to see," He said.

"Alright," Mike said. "Just be careful. We don't want to get thrown out because you pulled an emergency stop cord or disconnected half of the cars or something."

"Mike, have a bit of faith in me!" Micky said dramatically. "I'll be back later." He smiled confidently at Mike, who nodded knowingly and turned to the window. Taking that to be a "Go do whatever you want and have some exciting fun," Micky turned and began to walk down the car.

Leaving their compartment, he walked on for some time, stopping and talking to the types of people who seemed talkative or interesting, poking into corners or holes that seemed fun, and asking questions about the train itself, how it worked, how fast it could go, how long it had taken to lay the rails, anything that popped into his head. Of course, there weren't many people on board who knew the answer to any of these questions, but that didn't stop him from asking.

After awhile, he realized that something seemed very off about the car he was in. He looked around, it didn't look very different from the other cars. There were the same types of seats, the same kind of windows, the same kind of passengers, why, there was even a guy standing in the back, wearing a trench coat and a fedora, just like in all the other cars.

Waitaminute. That was what seemed wrong. There wasn't a guy in a trench coat and a fedora in every car. It was the same guy. Why would the same guy happen to switch cars exactly when Micky switched cars, managing to get in the same car as him and stay there until Micky went to a new car, unless it was done on purpose?

So, assuming that he was being followed for some reason, Micky decided to test this out, maybe he was just being paranoid.

Leaving the car and stepping into the next one, he rushed over to a nearby seat and grabbed a scarf and a pair of sunglasses from a lady sitting there. "Hey, can I borrow this? Thanks!" He said, darting away before she could protest.

Tying the scarf around his head like a bonnet and placing the sunglasses on his face, he grabbed a fur jacket from an empty seat and hurriedly shrugged it on over his shirt, sitting down as he did so.

He noticed a purse on the ground in front of the seat. Reaching over, he picked it up and placed it on his lap. Seeing a fan inside the open bag, he grabbed it, opened it, and began fanning himself. He turned his head so that it looked like he was watching the scenery outside the window, but behind the sunglasses, he watched the door.

Sure enough, the man in the trench coat stepped through and began skimming the crowd with his eyes. He blinked after a second, and began looking around again. Now seeming worried, he hurried through the car and into the next one. Micky waited for about five minutes, and was about to get up and follow when the man came back in, looking around again, as if he was looking for something.

He began to walk through the compartment, and as he passed, Micky jumped up on a whim, determined to find out what this guy wanted with him.

"Excuse me, sir?" He said in a high-pitched, cheery voice, throwing a southern twang in his voice for good measure. "Can I help you with somethin'? You look as if you don't rightly know where ya are."

The man looked at him in annoyance, but then seemed to change his mind about something.

"Actually, yeah, you can help me," he said. "I'm looking for a friend of mine, I know he went down this way, but I can't find him. He's wearing an orange shirt, and he's got real poufy hair, like a poodle's. Have you seen him?"

"Nope, haven't seen anyone like that," Micky said, smiling, although he was panicking on the inside. He'd been right, this guy was following him. "Can I take a message, maybe I'll run into this guy, I can tell him you're looking for him."

"No!" The guy said worriedly. Then he chuckled nervously. "I mean, uh," he said. "Naw, don't worry about it. I wanna surprise him."

"Oh, of course!" Micky said. "I understand. It's a secret!" "Yeah, that's it," The guy agreed. "A secret." He smiled and held up a finger to his lips, saying "Shh." Micky giggled a high-pitched giggle and hit him with his fan. "Oh, you're so silly!" He said as the guy blinked, surprised at the amount of force Micky put into his hit.

"Oh, clumsy me!" Micky said. "It's this train, it makes me lose my balance something awful!"

He giggled a few more times and then he lurched, knocking the guy over and then taking off towards the car that the others were in.

"Guys! Guys!" He whispered loudly as he stopped in front of the seats. The three Monkees all looked up at him, Davy was smirking, Mike looked slightly amused and slightly curious, and Peter looked baffled.

"Somebody's following us," he said. "Or, me, really. He's about 5 and a half feet tall and he's wearing a trench coat and a fedora and I realized he was following me so what should we do?"

"Calm down, for starters," Mike said, the corner of his mouth twitching. "And maybe you should tell us why you're dressed like a chick?"

"Huh?" Micky asked, and then he realized he was still wearing the scarf and the jacket, and he was holding a purse in one hand and a fan in the other, and he had ladies sunglasses on.

"I needed a quick disguise," he said, taking it all off and wrapping the fan, purse, glasses and scarf up in the jacket like a parcel. "So I could test if the guy was really following me."

"Now, why would somebody be following you?" Mike asked him. "What did you do this time?"

"What!?" Micky asked defensively. "I didn't do anything, I swear! I was just walking around, minding my own business, and I saw a guy wearing a trench coat and a fedora, standing in the back of the car, watching me!"

"A trench coat and a fedora, you said?" Peter asked. Micky nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Why?"

"Cause that guy who just came into this car is wearing a trench coat and a fedora," Peter said. "And he's staring at us, too."

"What!?" Micky turned to see that the guy was indeed standing in the back of the car, staring at the four musicians.

"What are we gonna do?" He asked, turning back to the others. Mike frowned at the guy in the fedora. "Well..." he said slowly. "It would appear you are telling the truth. Off hand, I'd say that what we need is getaway plan 213. On your marks, men. Steady... and... go!"

With that, the Monkees all stood up and darted off down the aisle, Mike and Peter heading past the man, who was too startled to do more than let out a small yelp of surprise, and Micky and Davy running the other way. Both pairs left the compartment and began executing their parts of the plan.

Mike and Peter, upon reaching the second compartment, quickly sat down in the first two empty seats. Mike took off his wool hat, pulled a pair of novelty Groucho Marx glasses out of his pocket and put them on, sufficiently disguising his face, as Peter put on a night-cap and a sleep mask, hiding his face and hair, then pulled a complimentary blanket up to his chin and started snoring.

Meanwhile, Davy and Micky, in the other compartment, got into their positions. Micky cupped his hands together to give Davy a boost, and the smaller man crawled into the overhead compartment. When he was up, Micky unwrapped his bundle and put his disguise back on, finishing right as the guy in the fedora stepped into the compartment.

"Oh, it's you again," he said when he saw Micky. "Hey, you didn't happen to see two guys run by here, the poufy haired one I mentioned earlier, and a really short kid with long hair?"

"Uh, no, nobody like that ran through here," Micky said in his high-pitched voice. "Maybe they went the other way."

"Yeah, maybe," The guy said, taking a quick look around before turning and going back into the other car.

"Is he gone?" Davy asked from the overhead compartment.

"Yeah, but you'd better stay up there for a while," he said. "Mike and Peter'll send him on a wild goose chase and come get us when they're done."

As the guy in the fedora stepped into the compartment, Mike stood up and walked up to him. "Hey, are you Harry?" He asked in a nasally voice. The guy blinked. "What?" He said. "No, I'm not Harry."

"Then don't shave," Mike said dryly. "Now listen, I've got a message from somebody, and I was told to deliver it to the guy named Harry in a trench coat and a fedora. It's from two guys that ran by here, a guy in a green wool hat and a blonde guy following him. Do you know those two?"

"I- Yes, yes, I do!" The guy said excitedly. "Where'd they go?"

"Why should I tell you," Mike said. "You ain't Harry."

"What? I mean, yes! Yeah, I'm Harry!" The man said eagerly.

"You sure?" Mike asked. The guy nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I'm Harry! I swear, I'm Harry!"

"That's funny, you look pretty clean-shaven to me," Mike said. "But, here's the message. They told me to tell you they ran the other way. Why they'd lie is beyond me, but that's the message. They want you to look for them in the car you just left."

"Well, why would I do that?" The guy asked defensively. "It's obvious they aren't there."

"Obvious, huh?" Mike asked. "Good to know. Obvious is my specialty. Now get goin' before they switch trains."

"Hey, thanks!" The guy said before running down the corridor. Mike watched him, and turned away as soon as he was gone. "Okay, Peter," he said. "Let's go get Micky and Davy!"

"Got it," Peter said, standing up and letting the blanket fall to the ground. "But Mike," he said. "How could we possibly switch trains? There aren't any stops scheduled for another hour, and we're moving too fast to get off now!"

Mike sighed. "That's the point," he explained. "We sent him on a wild goose chase. He's going to search every car from here to the last car so he can stop us from switching trains, and we're gonna be in the room he just left, the place we obviously couldn't be."

"Oh," Peter said, frowning still. Mike shook his head and the two of them headed through the other car and into the next.

Once the four Monkees were gathered together and out of their disguises, they discussed what the guy might've been after.

"Why do you think he was following us?" Micky asked, glancing nervously at the door in case the guy came back.

"I really have no clue," Mike said. "But something tells me it's got something to do with that ticket master back there. He said he had a contact on this train, maybe that was it."

"But that still doesn't explain why he was after us," Davy pointed out. "You told him we weren't going to play spy. That should've been the end of it."

"Yeah, it should have been," Mike agreed. "But it's not the first time that guy has tried to play us for the fool. You don't suppose he managed to sneak some top-secret information in our luggage, do you?"

"Oh no," Micky said. The others all looked at him. "What?" Mike asked warily.

"He gave Peter a travel brochure," Micky said. "When Peter didn't follow us to the train and I went back to get him, he said the ticket master gave him a travel brochure."

Mike turned to Peter. "Do you have it with you?" He asked him. Peter nodded, pulling it out of his pocket. "I haven't read it yet," he said, handing it to Mike. "Do you think he hid something in the brochure?" He asked.

Mike opened it. "Oh boy, did he," he said, pulling an envelope out of the folds of the pamphlet. "It feels heavy," he said, weighing the envelope in his hand. "There's definitely several pages of information here."

"What should we do with it?" Peter asked. Mike sighed. "Well," he said, carefully tucking the envelope into his jacket pocket. "I guess the only thing we can do is try to deliver it to the right person as fast as we can, so we can wash our hands of this whole spy business. But let me tell you, when we get back to LA, I'm gonna have something to say to that ticket master."

"Never mind that," Micky said. "How are we supposed to find the contact? We don't even know what he looks like!"

"Plus, he might've been the guy in the trench coat and the fedora," Mike said. "But then again, he might not be. The guy in the fedora might be a member of that gang the ticket master was talking about."

"Well, how can we tell for sure?" Peter asked. "We don't even know his code-name!"

"Look, there's a note in the brochure!" Davy said, taking the open brochure from Mike. "It says: Boys, find the man with the blue glasses, code-named Agent Cupcake."

Micky snickered. "Mick, this is no laughing matter," Mike said patiently. "I know," Micky said. "But imagine being called Agent Cupcake."

"Well, what's wrong with that," Peter said. "Cupcakes are good."

"Yeah, but as a code-name?" Micky said. "It's much too sweet and sugary."

"Well, we know two things," Davy said. "Yeah?" Mike asked. "And what's that?"

"Well, we know that the guy in the trench coat and the fedora isn't Agent Cupcake, because he didn't have blue glasses."

"Okay, and what's the other thing?" Micky prompted.

"We know that the thug pointing his gun at us isn't Agent Cupcake either," Davy said, pointing as a man walked towards them. The other three Monkees turned and saw that he was, indeed, holding a gun, and he wasn't wearing blue glasses.

"Oh boy," Mike said quietly. "We've done it again."