Some Monkees Text Posts
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Some Monkees Text Posts
WIP idk if I’ll ever finish since I don’t really like how it’s turning out
15 excruciating hours later but its done!
(I wanna make them into a keychain so badly)
"I never liked peter and he never liked me" michael you know god damn well
What happens when Davy, Peter, and Micky meet Veronica May and she’s a girl monkee trying to stop them from winning Battle of the Bands?? How will they tell Mike :(
Sounds like a job for the monkee men if you ask me…
Peter gasped, “Veronica May is just using Mike to win the battle of the bands?!”
“Shhh! Spoilers!” Micky put a finger to his lips then turned to Davy, “This is a job for…the Monkee Men!”
The three guys hurried for a phone booth, quick changed into their superhero suits then flew to the Vincent Van Gogh Gogh. Once they’d arrived at the happening night spot, they changed into a new set of outfits, all three wearing their best girl disguises so Mike wouldn’t catch them. They got a table and put up their menus, peeking over the top where they spotted Mike just coming back from the dance floor with Veronica.
“Hey, that girl looks familiar…” Davy squinted at the blonde, trying to think of where he knew her from.
“Aw, poor Mike got one of your leftovers? I’d feel bad for him, but I don’t think there are any women left—ow!” Micky winced after Davy stepped on his foot with his high heel.
“Veronica, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before…” Mike pulled out a chair for her, letting her sit down first, “I’m so glad I’ve met you.”
She smiled warmly, “I’m so glad I met you too, Mike.”
The waiter came up for their orders, where they just asked for their usuals.
“Have you given any thought to what we were talking about last night?” Veronica asked, tracing patterns on the back of Mike’s hand with her fingernails in a way that gave him chills.
“Huh?” Mike blinked then shook his head, “I mean…phew. I haven’t been able to take my mind off of it. I’m over the moon for you, really I am.”
Veronica raised a brow, “But?”
“It’s the guys. I was talking to them today and when I brought up that maybe I’d like to move away someday, it looked like I’d just told them their dog died. They looked hurt.” Mike rubbed the back of his neck.
She wrapped her arms around his and pulled him closer, “You know they don’t appreciate you like I do. They don’t like your country music, they think all you do is boss them around. They’re holding you back, really.”
She reached a finger and brushed some locks behind his ear, looking at him intently and scanning every feature on his face.
“Now, hang on a minute…” Mike laughed nervously, his cheeks turning pink when she brushed his hair away like that, “I know I was a little upset yesterday, I don’t even remember half of what I told you, but they’re not holding me back. They’ve never held me back.”
“Is that them there?” She pointed a finger, making Mike turn around.
The Monkees hid their faces again with their menus, but when they peeked, they saw Veronica hadn’t been pointing at them at all, but some random guys at the bar. When Mike’s back was turned, she poured a vial of some red potion into his milkshake.
“No, that doesn’t look like them at all.” Mike turned around again and furrowed his brows.
“Oh? My mistake. I haven’t seen a lot of them.” Veronica shrugged then took a sip of her own drink.
Mike shrugged it off then drank his milkshake, potion and all. He coughed a bit and turned away.
“Is something wrong?” Veronica rested a concerned hand on his arm.
“Nothing…it’s just…”
“Yes..?” She smiled some, knowing this would change his tune.
Mike got down on one knee and held her hand, “Please, my love! Marry me! Marry me, Veronica!”
Micky let out a squeak at this sudden turnaround. Mike had started to sound like himself again for five seconds before turning into this lovesick fool.
“My days, he sounds worse than I do!” Davy whispered.
“I need to marry you! I need to run away with you! I’d do anything for you, please…” Mike kissed the back of her hand then kissed up her arm like Gomez to Morticia.
“Oh, I love you too, Michael. I agree. We got to get out of here as soon as possible. Meet me at the train station, tomorrow night.” She told him, looking down at him lovingly.
“Tomorrow…but that’s when the battle of the bands is. Tomorrow night.” Mike made a face but then he shook it off, “It doesn’t matter! We’ll run away together. The band will be fine without me.”
“Just what I was hoping you’d say!” Veronica grinned, “We’re going to be so happy together, Michael.”
“You’ve already made me the happiest man in the world…” Mike rubbed her hand with his cheek.
“Oh…yuck!” Micky gagged.
Peter covered his face with his hand, trying to hide away from the cringe.
“Give me a break…” Davy groaned and shook his head.
Those guys Veronica had pointed out at the bar had started to wander over to the Monkees’ table, seeing their disguises and mistaking them for real women.
“Hey, ladies, can we buy you a drink?” Said the lead guy with a toothy grin.
Micky looked them up and down then snarled his upper lip, “Are you kidding? This is ladies’ night, fellas! Buzz off!”
He let out the most offended huff before the guys murmured their apologies and left them alone.
“The nerve of some guys! Like, just because I get all fixed up, you think it’s for you? Please.” Micky readjusted his purse over his shoulder.
Peter snapped his fingers in a sassy manner and nodded in agreement, “Mmmhm! Preach it, sister!”
“Shh, look. They’re going to dance again.” Davy pointed out.
As soon as Mike and Veronica went to leave their tables and their drinks behind them, Micky snuck over and poured Mike’s milkshake into a sample bag with a big sticker on the front that said, ‘EVIDENCE.’ It was time to undo the damage Veronica had done.
MIKE PETER GOT HIS HAND STUCK IN THE DRAIN AGAIN AND MICKYS DRINKING WEIRD CHEMICALS AND DAVY GOT CARRIED AWAY BY A HAWK AND EVERYTHINGS ON FIRE OR ABOUT TO BE YOU GOTTA COME BACK TO THE PAD QUICK!!!! :O
“And it’s another Tuesday, what’s your point?” Mike looked at the audience and made a face. Then he put down whatever he was reading and he got up, grunting like an old man before doing a little trot to wherever he needed to be,
“I’m comin’, fellas.”
I baked you all a cake!! Surprise!!
“Gosh-a-Rooney! A cake just for us?!” Micky gasped and slapped his hands onto his cheeks, his face the picture of sheer joy.
“Well, gee, that was mighty kind of you. Thank you.” Mike went into the cupboards and brought out some plates for them.
“What kind is it??” Davy asked, peering around it to look, “Red velvet? Yellow with chocolate frosting?”
“It’s my favorite kind,” Peter beamed, “Cake.”
“The best kind, the free kind.” Mike added, wiggling his brows before passing around forks to everybody, “Now, boys, don’t forget. What do you say?”
“Thank you!!” The other three chorused then dug in.
thanks ester
