From: Lenora McCoy Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative Subject: Multiple Monkee Personalities Part 1 Date: Tue, 03 Feb 1998 02:26:29 -0600 Message-ID: <34D6D4B5.55411FC1@sprintmail.com> MULTIPLE MONKEE PERSONALITIES PART 1 "Quiet on the set! Roll cameras! Action!!" A confusing menagerie of sounds greeted Sam as the leap effect faded. Looking around, he saw that he was standing on a television set. "Not another soap opera!" he groaned to himself. Then he noticed everyone was staring at him. The director yelled "Cut!!" and Sam stood there, staring around, clueless. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Dolenz? Did you suddenly forget how to act?" "No sir, I was lost in thought, um, trying to remember my lines. Do you think we could take a break?" The director contemplated his request for a moment. "Okay, Dolenz. Ten minutes. You're lucky we're ahead of schedule. Everyone, take ten!! Dolenz needs to get his act together!" * * * Admiral Al Calavicci stormed into the Control Room, yelling, "What's all the noise in here?" "Um, that's the person in the Waiting Room. He or she is either acting like a dog or, uh, is a dog," Gooshie nervously replied. "A dog, huh? Certainly sounds like it." Tucking his handlink in an inner jacket pocket, Al strode over to the Waiting Room door to speak to the visitor. As he neared the door, the growling stopped, and a voice called out, "Hey, Henry, you missed your cue!" "Hmmm . . . so it's not a dog after all. Good, cause Sam would not be happy leaping into a dog." Al opened the door and strode in to see a confused young man looking around the sterile Waiting Room. "Who are you? Where am I?" "My name's Al. I'm here to help you. What's your name?" "Micky Dolenz. I'm supposed to be on the set of the Monkees . . . or at least I was until a few minutes ago. What is this place? With a little decoration it could be a real groovy pad!" "We call this the Waiting Room. I need you to answer a few questions for me, Micky. First, what's today's date?" Al pulled out the handlink to relay answers to Ziggy. After a quick look of confusion, Micky replied in a cowboy-style voice, "June 16th, nineteen sixty six, pardner." "Okay, uh, and what were you doing immediately prior to coming here?" "Filming a scene for this week's episode, pardner." "The werewolf thing?" Al asked, prompted by Ziggy. "That's right," Micky replied, motioning as if tipping a cowboy hat upwards. "Okay, that's all I need for now. Is there anything I can get you?" "Actually, I'm kinda hungry. There a chuckwagon around here that serves chili?" "No chuckwagon, but I think I can scare up a little chili for you. I'll see you later!" Al walked out and headed off to the Imaging Chamber, calling out to Gooshie along the way, "Gooshie, see if you can find some chili for our guest!" * * * Sam stood where he was for a moment, scanning the soundset to try and figure out where his dressing room was. Suddenly, two men came up from behind him, each grabbing one of his arms and carried him over to a dressing room marked "Micky Dolenz." "Here ya go Mick. Don't get lost in your carpet!" "Mike, you know he can never get lost. He has my music from next door to guide him out." The men laughed and walked into neighboring rooms. "Well, that solves the problem of my dressing room, and I know at least one person's name -- Mike is the guy with the wool hat on," Sam mused as he opened the door to walk inside. Once inside, he stopped short. The entire room -- walls, floor, and ceiling were covered in tan-colored shag carpeting. There was an unlit candle and a pile of pillows on the floor. Atop the pillows was a shooting script, open to a page, with a shooting schedule laid on top. "Thank you Micky!" Sam said aloud. "Thank you for what?" inquired a disembodied voice. Sam jumped, "Don't do that! Where are you?" "Right here," the voice replied, as a figure walked through the wall from next door, the wall adjoining the room the other man, whose name Sam still didn't know, had gone into. "Sam, you would not believe the storehouse of musical instruments this guy's got in his dressing room next door! Banjos, keyboards, harpsichord, drums, guitars, bass, French horn! I wonder if he can play them all . . . he can? You've got to be kidding, Ziggy!" Al gave the handlink a wary glance, as if he doubted the truth of the information scrolling across it. He was dressed in gray pinstriped pants and jacket, with a bright blue shirt and metallic blue tie, a navy blue fedora, and silver shoes finished off the ensemble. "Al! All I care about next door is that guy's name, and why am I here?" "Oh, uh, your name is Micky Dolenz, uh, short for George Michael Dolenz, and you're a former child actor. You're currently starring in a television series called The Monkees. Hey -- I remember them! Just before I went off to Vietnam, their first song hit number one. Clarksdale, or something like that." "Al!!" "Oh, sorry. Um, it's a TV show about this out-of-work rock 'n roll band, called the Monkees. The producers hired actors to fill the roles, but along the way they actually became a group, writing and producing and playing their own music, and touring. And, y'know, they're still around. I took Tina to one of their concerts last night. Still great!" "Al! What is the date, why am I here, and who is the guy next door?" "Um, today's date is June 16th, 1966. The guy next door is your co-star Peter Tork. The other guy on the set with you, with the wool hat on, is Mike Nesmith. Your third co-star is Davy Jones. And, so far, we don't know why you're here. We've been too busy trying to figure this guy out to try and find that out. He leaped in and immediately started acting like a werewolf." "Yeah, that's the scene we're shooting today." "Really? Hmmmm . . . he must have been just doing his part. He's great Sam! He was climbin on the furniture, and howlin and growlin . . . we thought there was a dog in there at first!" "Oh, boy." * * * Suddenly, both men jumped as a song began to play out of nowhere -- the Quantum Leap theme. "What's that?" Sam asked. "Um, Ziggy says that's our theme song. Hmmm. I'm gonna go ask Micky some more questions . . . he switched personalities? And there's nothing in the files about him being diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder?" Al read the handlink with a wary eye. "Maybe after-effects of the leap -- he's not MPD, but just switching between different characters he's played, confused from the leap as to which one is him," Sam supplied. "Could be. I wonder if we have any of these episodes on file -- watching it might help you . . . we do?" "You do?" "Yeah . . . oh, our head technician Agnes Garreffa is apparently a huge fan of these guys and she has everything they ever did in Ziggy's archives. Lemme pull up the scene you have to do." Al punched the handlink and a holographic screen appeared and played Micky's werewolf scene from "Don't Look A Gift Horse In The Mouth". "Dolenz! We're waiting!" a voice called. "Uh, oh, I'd better get on the set -- thanks Al. That clip helped! Come back when we finish filming to help guide me home, OK?" "Sure thing Sam," Al popped out and Sam ran out to the set. * * * As soon as the director called it a day, Sam stumbled back to the shag-carpeted dressing room and collapsed on a big, fluffy pillow. Just then, Davy walked in, still wearing his swim trunks from the scenes they had shot. "You okay, Mick? You seemed sluggish and not quite your crazy self out there," he asked as he sat down on a huge furry pillow. "Oh, just a little tired. I just need a good night's sleep." "OK. Oh, I also came in here to remind you that we're shooting on that farm tomorrow and Bob wanted me to give you the map." "Bob . . . is Robert Rafelson, one of the creators of the show and this week's director," Al supplied. "Thanks. See you tomorrow morning?" "Sure. Six AM sharp -- don't get lost!" Davy replied, flinging the pillow he's been sitting on at Sam as he walked out. Sam then turned to Al. "Good timing. Find out why I'm here yet?" "Um, Ziggy's still not positive, but she thinks you're here to prevent some sort of accident with a horse tomorrow during filming," Al read the squealing handlink. "That sounds plausible -- we're filming on some farm tomorrow." "Yeah, and early! You'd better get some sleep . . . oh, waitaminute! You're supposed to go over to the studio and record some vocals. You're gonna be tired in the morning." "Story of my life, Al. Where's the studio?" He stopped short as he walked off the set to see several cars parked in unlabeled parking spots, "and which one is my car?" "Um, the red Pontiac GTO right here," Al popped out and reappeared right next to a custom cherry red Pontiac GTO convertible with four bucket seats, "What a beauty!" Sam glared at Al and got in the car. Al positioned himself in the back seat. "Okay, Al," Sam growled, "Where is the recording studio?" -- Lenora McCoy, die-hard Dolenzkateer, Obsessed Leaper, Al-coholic, and Dean-drooler AlbertCalavicci@hotmail.com ZiggyQL@sprintmail.com AdmiralLenora@rocketmail.com http://www.geocities.com/Area51/4401/ Author of "Quantum Kirk" and other stories (list and/or requests by e-mail)