As they walked up to the first ride and got in line, Pointy moved to stand near the exit and wait for them. "Aren't you going to ride?" Micky asked him.
"Nah," Pointy said. "I don't like lines. To be perfectly straight with you, I prefer coloring outside of them."
"Oh, alright," Micky said. "Suit yourself. You're missing out!"
"I have a tailor," Pointy informed them. "And I get sick on spinny rides."
"Now see, there's a real answer," Davy said.
"Watch yourself," Pointy said with a smile. "You look like the kinda guy to get sick yourself."
"What?" Davy said. "No, I never get sick on spinny rides! I used to ride these all the time when I was a kid!"
"So did I, but times change," Pointy said. "You never know when what you did as a kid can affect you as an adult. But hey, try it out. When you come out too queasy to stand up straight, don't say I didn't warn you."
Davy frowned, but obstinately went on the ride anyway.
"Are you alright there, Davy?" Peter asked as they all stepped off.
"Of course I am," Davy said, clutching his stomach. "It's just the power of suggestion, that's all."
"I suggest you find a trash can then," Mike said. "You're turning green."
Davy nodded and stumbled over to the trash can placed conveniently by the ride as Pointy sighed. "Tough luck," he said. "I feel for you, man. I used to love these things."
They continued going through the fair and riding every ride, but Davy didn't ride another spinning one. After about half an hour, they had sampled each ride, and had run out of tickets.
So they decided to walk around and look at all the exhibits. At some point, Marissa had attached herself to Mike's leg, and was riding it as he walked alongside everyone else.
As they walked through the art exhibit, Micky stopped and stared up at a painting of a llama with hair that could have come straight off one of the Beatles. The background behind the llama's head was smoky and out of focus, and there was a slight sheen surrounding it. A rainbow was playing across the painting, making the whole affect rather trippy.
"Wow," Micky said. "That is one psychedelic llama."
Mike stopped and looked at the painting himself. "Whoa," he said. "That is one psychedelic llama."
"I beg your pardon?" A nearby woman asked suspiciously. "Do I know you?"
"Uh, no, I don't think so," Mike said in confusion.
"Are you my contact?" The woman said. "I wasn't supposed to meet you until the confectioner's exhibit!"
"Look, lady, we don't know you," Micky said.
"But you used my code-name," The woman said. "I'm Agent Psychedelic Llama, here to stop the Black Rose's duck-pond op."
"You're Agent- Oh, now isn't that a coincidence," Mike said. "We were talking about this painting!" He pointed to the painting, and the woman blinked.
"Wow," she said. "That is one psychedelic llama. I can see why you'd be confused." Then something seemed to occur to her, and she forced a laugh. "Boy," she said. "I sure had you guys fooled with that whole "Agent here to stop a gang op" thing," she said. "I'm not a gang-member! Don't be so silly!"
"Don't worry, we won't squeal," Mike said with a sigh. "We know all about the Good-Guys gang. Your secret's safe with us."
"Hey guys," Davy said, walking up to them, followed by Peter and Pointy. "What are you doing hanging around?" Davy quipped.
"Wait," Agent Psychedelic Llama interrupted, looking at Mike. "You know about the Good Guys Gang?" She looked down at Marissa and then nodded, as if she understood something now.
Davy and Peter frowned, and Pointy gaped. "What!?" he asked, looking between Mike and the Agent. "The Good Guys Gang? Aren't they those people down in Waterbury, always on the news or something? I thought they were more of an East Coast thing. How long have you guys known about 'em?"
"We ran into them on the train to Abilene," Mike said.
"Oh," Pointy said. "Well, you'd better be careful, those guys are bad news!"
"Hey, watch it," Agent Psychedelic Llama said, looking up from Marissa. "You're talking to bad news right now."
Pointy stared. "You're a member of the gang!?" He asked in surprise.
"Yep," Agent Psychedelic Llama. "But I'll tell you who's even more bad news: The group of Black Rose gang members running the Duck Pond. Those guys are the real trouble."
"There's Black Rose members here at the fair!?" Peter asked worriedly. "What are they doing here?"
"What do you think?" Agent Psychedelic Llama said. "They're here to try and figure out who Mr. Best is. About six months ago, they figured out that the second in command made frequent reports here in Kent. Ever since, they've been staking out the place. That's why I'm so important. Agent Psychedelic Llama, head of security. Protecting Mr. Best is my job."
She looked down at Marissa and sighed. "And that means I know who his family is," She said, looking back at Mike. "So you boys had better be careful."
"What does that mean?" Pointy asked.
"It means, My job is to keep the identity of Mr. Best and his family a secret," Agent Psychedelic Llama said. "But you never know when someone will get tipped off and figure out who they are."
"Wait," Pointy said, looking at the agent, his eyes wide. "You mean... Mr. Best's family is here at the fair!?"
"I didn't say that," Agent Psychedelic Llama said, looking at Pointy. "I just said you boys need to be careful. There are a lot of dangerous people here at the fair. I just don't want to see any innocent bystanders get hurt. Since these boys knew about the gang, having run into them in Abilene, I thought it only fair to warn them not to take this little girl over there, as there might be trouble later."
"Oh," Pointy said with a frown. "Oh... That makes sense, I guess. Wow guys, real gang members are here at the fair! Isn't that exciting?"
"Very," Micky said dryly. "I for one, don't find life or death situations very fun at all. We should head back now, before anything happens."
"Smart kid," Agent Psychedelic Llama said, giving Micky a half-smile. "In the meantime, I must be going. Good luck."
She left, and the Monkees all looked at each other and sighed. "Well," Mike said. "I suppose we should go home, then."
"Nonsense!" Pointy exclaimed. "Just because there are gang-members over at the duck pond doesn't mean there'll be a shoot-out around every corner!"
Mike hesitated. The wisest thing to do would be to head home, but Pointy had a... point. Oh great, now he had Mike doing it.
Not to mention, Mike's paranoia levels had doubled since the start of this trip. They had no way of knowing how many members of the Black-Rose gang were around, or if any were watching the Monkees already. They had probably raised quite a racket with all the involvement they'd gotten into on the train, and with them having caused Tasha to go to jail the night before, people were bound to be suspicious. If they left too quickly after being seen with the head of the Good Guys Gang security, would it tip somebody off?
Finally, he sighed, wishing again that he didn't have to be in charge all the time. "Fine," he said. "Well stay for another half-hour or so. But let's stay far away from the duck pond, and let's not go to the confectioner's exhibit either. We'll look at all the animals, and then we'll go home."
"Got it," Micky said, glancing over his shoulder. Davy and Peter looked nervously around them too.
"Golly," Pointy said, looking at them all in amazement. "It's just some gang running a duck pond. Are you guys all chickens or something?"
"Not anymore, but the oath still stands," Micky said seriously. "Chickens, unite!"
Everyone clucked for good measure.
"Wow," Pointy said. "And here I thought I was crazy. Hey! Let's go to the poultry exhibit! Maybe you guys'll find a few relatives. And hey,if any gang-members show up, you can make a hasty egg-sit no problem."
He laughed at his own joke and led the way from the art exhibit, the Monkees rolling their eyes and following cautiously.
It wasn't long before Marissa got tired of looking at animals, so as Davy and Micky headed off to examine the horses, and as Peter and Pointy went to go look at the first prize pig named Porky, a rather large animal belonging to a local farmer named Peter Percival Patterson, Mike purchased two ice creams and sat down with Marissa, handing one to her.
"Thanks, Mike," Marissa said, taking the ice cream and licking it excitedly.
They sat in silence for a little while, and watched as people went by, enjoying the fair.
Suddenly, something seemed to click in Mike's brain, that something wasn't completely right. Looking around, he couldn't spot anything wrong, but there was definitely something... off.
"Well, we should probably go gather the others and head back for lunch," He said, standing up casually. "Ready to go, Marrisa?"
"Yes," the little girl said, standing up reluctantly. "Can't we stay a little longer, Mike? Please?"
Mike smiled. "No," he said. "We really should head back... what in the world?"
He frowned in confusion as more and more people began to gather at the door of the building housing all the pigs. "There's something strange going on here," he said. "Marissa, we're going to go find Davy and Micky, and then you're going to stay with Davy while Micky and I go get Peter, alright?"
"Alright," Marissa said, looking at the now sizeable crowd with a touch of concern in her eyes. "Let's hurry," she suggested, taking Mike's hand.
Together, they hurried to the horse exhibit, which was surprisingly empty and clearing out fast. Micky and Davy were at the far end, examining one of the horses and completely oblivious to the other people all leaving the room.
"Davy, Micky," Mike said quietly, but urgently, as he and Marissa approached the pair. "Something's going on. I don't know what it is, but a crowd's gathering around the pig exhibits, and Peter isn't back yet."
"What?" Micky said as he and Davy began walking back towards the entrance with Mike and Marissa. "Do you think it has something to do with the gang?"
"I don't know," Mike said. "I didn't want to investigate with Marissa. Davy, I want you to take Marissa and go back to the house. Micky and I are gonna go find Peter. We'll meet you there."
"But I want to help," Davy insisted. "Why're you sending me back to the house? Is it because I'm short?"
"No," Mike said. "It's because we need to get Marissa to safety, and frankly, I don't want you to get hurt either."
"Gee, thanks Mike," Micky said dryly.
"That's not what I meant and you know it," Mike said. "I don't want anybody to get hurt."
"So why single me out, huh?" Davy demanded. "You could send Micky home with Marissa, and I could help you just as easily! I might be the youngest-"
"And the smallest," Micky added helpfully.
"But that doesn't mean I'm weak!" Davy finished, ignoring Micky's addition.
"I don't think you're weak, Davy," Mike said. "In fact, I want you to take Marissa home because you're not weak. Someone needs to be able to protect her if you're followed. Going home isn't any less dangerous than staying here, at least, not until you actually get home."
Davy pursed his lips, then sighed. "Fine," he said. "Just... Be careful, alright? I don't like splitting up when something big's going down."
"Me either, Tiny," Mike said. "Now, go on and get Marissa home. Marissa, you stay with Davy and do what he says, alright?"
Marissa nodded solemnly and took Davy's hand. Together, they walked quickly towards the admissions gate, out of sight.
"Alright," Mike said, turning to Micky. "Let's go in there and find out what this is all about."
"Got it," Micky said. "Try to act casual."
Together, they walked over to the crowd of people and began pushing their way through, trying to get to what appeared to be the center of the commotion, about halfway up the building. Finally reaching the front, they saw what had the crowd so riled up. Three men Mike and Micky had never seen before were lying unconscious in one of the unused stalls. Peter and Pointy were nowhere to be seen. A few policemen were trying to revive the men, slowly getting them up and handcuffing their hands behind their backs. Several other policemen were trying to keep the crowd at bay, while a few people were taking pictures of the scene.
"What happened?" Micky wondered aloud, but Mike couldn't answer him. He looked around, scanning the crowd, looking for any sign of where Peter went.
One of the men started to groan then, and the crowd got excited again.
"Everybody, calm down," one of the policemen said. "We've got this situation under control."
The man opened his eyes and took in his situation. A slow grin came onto his face. "Yeah," he said. "Copper's got this under control."
"Mr. Gang member," one man said, holding up a pencil and notepad. With a jolt, Mike realized he was from the press. "Are you from the Black Rose or the Good Guys gang?"
"Black Rose, Proudly," the man said.
"And what were you doing here today?" The reporter asked.
"What do you think we're doing here?" The man said. "We're looking for Junior Best."
That stirred up the crowd.
"Mr. Gang member!" Another reporter said. "Would you care to elaborate on that?"
"You heard me," the man said. "We're looking for Junior Best!"
"You mean Mr. Best has an heir?" The first reporter said.
The man nodded. "And we will find him," he said.
"Mr. Gang member," said yet another reporter, while Mike and Micky watched in stunned silence. "Do you know the identity of Mr. Best?"
Mike and Micky froze, holding their breath.
"No," the man said. Mike and Micky let out a breath of relief. "We just know that his son was definitely here today."
"How can you prove that?" The reporter asked.
"Sir, I need you to remain silent and come with me," the police officer said, beginning to lead the man away, while other policemen tried to clear the crowds.
"What are we going to do?" Micky whispered in a panic.
"Well," Mike whispered back as the crowds all followed the policemen leading away the three members. "First things first, we need to find Peter. How did he escape from those guys without them noticing?"
"He had a little help," someone whispered behind them.
"AHHHH!" Mike and Micky both yelled, whirling around and jumping back a few steps.
"Agent Psychedelic Llama," Mike said in relief. "Don't do that."
"Sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to scare you. Peter's safe, along with his friend. I discovered that someone tipped off those men that he would be in the pig exhibit, so I rushed over to stop them. I got there just in time to get the boys away without being seen, then when back to take care of the thugs."
"Wow, you really saved him back there then," Mike noted.
"It's all part of the job," Agent Psychedelic Llama said, leading them silently away from the pig exhibit and towards an old storage building near the back of the fair. "Mr. Best filled me in on the situation the moment he heard you were coming down. He wanted to make sure I knew to protect you boys as well as him, his wife, and his daughter."
"Well, thanks," Micky said. "Hey, do you know if Davy got out safe with Marissa, then?"
"He's fine," Agent Psychedelic Llama said. "I sent a security detail to escort them the rest of the way. They're both going to be perfectly safe."
"That's good," Mike said. "I really didn't like sending him away by himself, but I had no idea what we could be dealing with."
"You did good," Agent Psychedelic Llama said. "Exactly what I would have done had I been in your place. Here we are."
She led them behind the building, where Peter and Pointy were sitting against the wall with another guy. "Thanks, Agent Silver Spoon," Agent Psychedelic Llama said. "I'll take it from here."
The man nodded and left, and Peter stood up. "Guys!" He said. "You're safe! I was so worried, I thought maybe something would happen to you before Agent Psychedelic Llama found you!"
"I'm still not sure why she went to all this trouble for people who just ran into the gang a few days ago," Pointy said. "Or why it's so important to you guys that we stay away from everything that might be involved. But, who am I to judge? Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I've had enough of hiding behind buildings and sneaking away from people who probably don't know me from beans anyway. Can I go?"
"You're excused," Agent Psychedelic Llama said.
"Finally," Pointy said with a pout. "You know, fairs are supposed to be good ol' fashioned fun. This is more of a bad gangster movie!"
With that, Pointy walked away, muttering to himself and turning to glance behind at them a few times.
"I can't say I'm sorry to see him go," Micky said.
"Micky, be nice," Peter said, although he was grinning. "This has all been very confusing to him. Considering his personality anyway, I'm surprised he handled it as well as he did."
"Yeah, well, that doesn't mean I have to like him," Micky said, frowning.
"Come on, boys," Agent Psychedelic Llama said. "I have to get you back to the house before the police get too close."
"No argument there," Micky said. "Although, I've been on the run from lots of people, the police aren't usually one of them."