Chapter Text
- A New York City soundscape. A knock on a door, coming from stage right.
PETER
(Off-stage) One second!
There’s a clank, like he dropped something in the kitchen but it didn’t break. He quietly swears indistinctly. He cuts across the stage with a pen in his mouth and answers the door.
PETER
Oh.
The pen clatters to the floor.
PETER
Shit.
MICHAEL
Smooth.
MICHAEL makes to step inside as the lights come up and we see PETER’s apartment. PETER steps aside to let him in. MICHAEL reaches down, picks up the pen, and hands it to PETER.
PETER
Yeah. Thanks.
PETER doesn’t know what to do with the pen. He puts it back in his mouth. He shakes his head and puts it behind his ear. It teeters, unbalanced, and he throws it behind the couch when MICHAEL isn’t looking.
PETER
Was I expecting you?
MICHAEL
I don’t know, were you?
PETER
I don’t know, was I?
MICHAEL
Can I not call unannounced?
PETER
Unannounced! I can.
MICHAEL sits on PETER’s sofa.
MICHAEL
We’re famous, shotgun.
PETER
Famous?
MICHAEL
Like, famous famous.
PETER
Like Beatles famous? Like Elvis?
MICHAEL
Not that famous.
PETER
Like Hollywood Walk of Fame famous? Walk of fame-ous…
MICHAEL
Ding ding ding.
PETER
Okay.
PETER sits, too.
PETER
Why are you here?
MICHAEL
Why are any of us here?
PETER
To put money in Bob Rafelson’s pocket. What gives?
MICHAEL
What gives is Mick wants to do a show.
PETER
Does he, now?
MICHAEL
And I don’t want to, and I don’t want to not want to.
PETER
So you want to.
MICHAEL
No. Are you even listening to me?
PETER laughs.
PETER
Cool your jets, daddy-o. Finally feeling like you missed out?
MICHAEL
No.
PETER
How can I help?
MICHAEL
Convince me not to.
PETER
Not to what?
MICHAEL
Not to do it.
PETER
What?
MICHAEL
Convince me not to do it, so I do it.
PETER
So… you want to do it.
MICHAEL
No! I want to want to do it!
PETER
You’re an enigma wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a ten gallon hat, you know that? You’re in my apartment.
MICHAEL
Are you into it? The walk of fame bag.
PETER
Yes and no.
MICHAEL
I think it’s bullshit.
PETER
No kidding. I guess if it were me, I’d rather have a grammy.
MICHAEL
It is you.
PETER
If it were up to me, I guess.
MICHAEL
It is up to you.
PETER
I see what you mean. Why am I hearing about this from you?
MICHAEL
Because I’m faster and more agile than Micky.
PETER
Ha!
MICHAEL
Because there are things more reliable than the American Telephone and Telegraph company.
PETER
Because you doing the opposite of what I say is a surer guarantee than the operator connecting you?
MICHAEL
Do you want to do a show?
PETER
I didn’t even know there was a show until five minutes ago!
MICHAEL
Peter, I’m scared.
PETER
You’re what?
MICHAEL
Don’t make me say it again.
PETER
I didn’t make you say it the first time! I’m incapable of making you do anything. Nothing has tortured me more for the past twenty years. You’re in my apartment!
MICHAEL
Nothing?
PETER
Christ, not nothing. A nonzero amount of things. Number of things.
MICHAEL
You did always like to talk good.
PETER
You did always like to give me a goddamn hard time. You’re scared? What gives?
MICHAEL
I’ve hardly been in front of a crowd since shit kicked off with the FNB.
PETER
Since your best friend found out you’d been fucking his wife.
MICHAEL
And I did some shows after Phyllis split.
PETER
With those albums full of songs that definitely weren’t about her.
MICHAEL
But I wasn’t hardly myself. They recorded one that was all right. Record’s full of static.
PETER
There are bootlegs.
MICHAEL
Bootlegs.
PETER
Of me, too.
MICHAEL
You like to be bootlegged?
PETER
I’m anti-capitalist.
MICHAEL
Sure.
PETER
I’m not making a ton of scratch as it is.
MICHAEL
Not making a ton of records.
PETER
They turned down my demos.
MICHAEL
Because you can’t sing.
PETER
Because I can’t sing.
MICHAEL
Dig.
PETER
Dig?
MICHAEL
Or what you will. Why are we talking about this?
PETER
Because you’re scared. Of things that are real.
MICHAEL
How can I be scared of it if it’s what I’m obsessed with finding? Nevermind, answered my own question, there.
PETER
And I can sing, but I said I couldn’t because I know you don’t think that I can’t. Because you threatened Tommy Boyce about it.
MICHAEL
And because we were riffing.
PETER
And because we were riffing.
MICHAEL
Come stay with me in California.
PETER
I’ll stay with Micky.
MICHAEL
No. Stay with me. I’m putting you up.
PETER
Putting up with me, anyway. He is from California. Which is… debilitating.
MICHAEL snorts.
PETER
The neighbors might think.
MICHAEL
In California? The neighbors are brainless, mindless drones.
PETER
No cabs to be had out there.
MICHAEL
You said it, sister.
PETER laughs, heartily.
PETER
I haven’t been in California since I don’t know when.
MICHAEL
We played the Greek two years ago.
PETER
Touché.
MICHAEL
I’m just saying.
PETER
You’re never just saying.
MICHAEL
I’m always just saying.
PETER
Are you kidding? No you’re not. You’re a haver of ulterior motives.
MICHAEL
Motives, maybe. Not ulterior.
PETER
We all have motives.
MICHAEL
To err is–
MICHAEL and PETER
Truman.
MICHAEL
Right.
PETER
Are you staying?
MICHAEL
Staying? No, I have to–
PETER
Get back?
MICHAEL
To where I once belonged.
PETER
Yeah.
MICHAEL
To someplace that I know.
PETER
Where things don’t start just to end, I know. I can dig it.
MICHAEL
Like a rolling stone. Shall we, uh– say goodbye?
PETER
Good, goodbye, you cruel town. You’ve been a fair-weather friend, you know.
MICHAEL
Are we–
PETER
Going in circles?
MICHAEL
Sometimes it–
PETER
Feels that way, yes, like–
MICHAEL
Deja vu?
PETER
And we’re–
MICHAEL
Helpless, helpless, helpless.
PETER
Or words to that effect.
MICHAEL
It was hardly the last act of Hamlet.
PETER
You’re doing it again!
MICHAEL
Doing what again?
PETER
Going in–
MICHAEL
Circles?
PETER
Don’t do that!
MICHAEL
Do I repeat myself? Yes, I repeat myself. I am vast, I contain multitudes.
PETER
Contradict! Contradict! Do I contradict myself, not repeat, you cretin!
MICHAEL
Cretin.
PETER
I could throttle you.
MICHAEL
Don’t do that.
PETER
(Calming down) Okay. Okay. This, I can deal with.
MICHAEL
It’s–
PETER
Familiar.
MICHAEL
It’s–
PETER
Monty Python’s Flying Circus?
MICHAEL
It’s–
PETER
Too late, baby, now, it’s too late.
MICHAEL
Oh, Carole.
PETER
Oh, thank god.
MICHAEL
Charlatan.
PETER
You got stuck in a loop.
MICHAEL
Got stuck? I been stuck. Since 1966 I been stuck.
PETER
You–
MICHAEL
Busted out? So did you. Didn’t you?
PETER
I–
MICHAEL
That’s what I thought.
PETER
I didn’t say anything!
MICHAEL
That’s what I thought.
PETER
You mean we’re–
MICHAEL
Still–
PETER
Going?
MICHAEL
Still–
PETER
Stuck.
MICHAEL taps his nose.
MICHAEL
I couldn’t think of the word.
PETER
You… Mr. Propinquity? Mr. Ennui?
MICHAEL
Makes you think, doesn’t it? Static.
PETER
As in–
MICHAEL
Noise.
PETER
As in–
MICHAEL
Motionless.
PETER
As in–
MICHAEL
Open your eyes, Pete!
MICHAEL flicks PETER between the eyes, who flinches, hard.
PETER
Jesus!
MICHAEL
You don’t take nothing with you but your soul, think!
PETER looks up and he’s about to knock at a door. MICHAEL’s door. He has a duffel bag with him, like one you might use to go backpacking. MICHAEL opens the door before PETER knocks.
PETER
How did you–
MICHAEL
Bend the rules, shotgun.
PETER
The rules?
MICHAEL
I realized a long time ago where we were.
PETER
So did I.
MICHAEL
Nah, I realized in Act One, Scene One.
PETER
(Angry) It was hardly the last act of–
MICHAEL
Can I tell you something?
PETER
No.
MICHAEL
You look good with long hair.
PETER
Thank you. You look like an undercover cop.
MICHAEL
Come on in. You know you’re welcome here.
PETER
Don’t do that.
PETER enters.
MICHAEL
Make yourself at home.
PETER
Au contraire.
MICHAEL
(Following him in) Au contraire?
PETER goes upstairs and we hear him open a few doors, then find a room he likes and dump his bag on the floor. MICHAEL paces awkwardly downstairs. We hear PETER kick his shoes off one after the other, then he rejoins MICHAEL in the living room.
MICHAEL
Hey.
PETER
Hey yourself.
MICHAEL
Mm, watch your shifting power dynamics.
PETER
Feeling too low-status?
MICHAEL
Every day.
PETER
Hm. Music?
MICHAEL
How’s that?
PETER
(Pointing) Radio?
MICHAEL
Can you speak in full sentences, please?
PETER
No.
MICHAEL
You’re startin’ to get a little too accustom to saying that to me, you know?
PETER
How dare you, you creep.
MICHAEL
Sue me.
PETER
Maybe I will.
MICHAEL
You really think I’m a creep?
MICHAEL turns on the radio.
PETER
You really care?
MICHAEL
Sometimes. I can’t honestly get my head straight about it half the time. There, I said it.
PETER
Sometimes.
PETER nods, contemplative.
PETER
I figure you want to baffle people about it, regardless.
MICHAEL smiles slyly.
MICHAEL
You figure correctly. Bafflement. Intrigue. Ex–
PETER
Communication.
MICHAEL
Well, yeah.
PETER
(Shrugs) This stuff never gets old.
They recognize the song playing on the radio. It’s George Harrison’s “Got My Mind Set On You.” They laugh.
MICHAEL
Go figure.
PETER grins and starts moving along with the music, first his shoulders, then his hips, then snapping his fingers and really going for it. MICHAEL laughs quietly. PETER spins theatrically and grabs a spatula from the counter and uses it as a mime microphone. The figure he cuts is more evocative of Elvis than Harrison. MICHAEL does a little high pitched squeal and mimes swooning. PETER smiles, a little smug. He inches closer to MICHAEL who indulges him with some small movements of his shoulders and head. They mime air guitar, piano, and brass through the end of the song. The next song fades in. They lock eyes. No way. It’s “MGBGT.”
MICHAEL
You’ve gotta be kidding me.
PETER
Would I kid at a time like this?
PETER laughs wildly.
MICHAEL
Who’s playing rhythm on this?
PETER
I am.
MICHAEL
It’s fast.
PETER
It’s live! You’d play fast, too.
PETER resumes dancing.
MICHAEL
Ba-daa. Suppose you have to lose some things before you treasure them, that’s how it goes. And I… I didn’t give time to my car, lost my car to time, what did I know?
PETER stares.
PETER
You know the words?
MICHAEL
It’s catchy.
PETER
Sure.
MICHAEL
Sue me.
PETER makes a noise halfway between a laugh and a scoff.
PETER
Man… if Davy finds out I’ve been seeing you in secret.
MICHAEL
He’ll what?
PETER
I don’t know. Quit the group?
MICHAEL
It’s been done before.
PETER
That’s only a dirty rumor started by people who saw me quit the group.
MICHAEL
Like I said.
PETER stares at him. MICHAEL notices.
MICHAEL
What.
PETER
You knew the words to my song. I like that.
MICHAEL
Oh yeah? How much?
PETER
You know. Enough.
MICHAEL
Don’t look at me like that.
PETER
Like what?
MICHAEL
You know what. It’s been what, twenty five years? You don’t got any more tools in your arsenal? I thought you of all people should know sex ain’t supposed to be so damn… transactional.
PETER straightens out his stance.
PETER
Sure, sure. Davy thinks I’m a useless hippie and you think I’m some sort of… sex fiend, so… so maybe that’s just what I’m destined for.
PETER turns on his heels and leaves, flicking the kitchen light off behind him.
MICHAEL
(Following PETER out) Sure. It’s all teleological now, baby blue.
PETER walks up the stairs directly into a hotel room in 1966. He goes to the sink, washes his face, and starts brushing his teeth. MICHAEL approaches and stands in the doorway.
MICHAEL
Knock knock.
PETER
Yeah?
MICHAEL
(Enters) They wouldn’t let us switch rooms.
PETER
Even though Mick and Dave said they were okay with it?
MICHAEL
What we say don’t matter. They just assume we’re friends.
PETER
Where do they get their crazy ideas?
MICHAEL
Man, shut up.
MICHAEL starts brushing his teeth, too.
MICHAEL
Did you hear what Kirshner said about us?
PETER
No. When?
MICHAEL
To Ward and Tommy and Bobby before we left.
PETER
No.
MICHAEL
Said they never shoulda hired us.
PETER spits, and rinses his mouth.
PETER
And give up all this money?
MICHAEL
Not us. Us. You and me.
PETER
Oh.
MICHAEL
Said “Tork and Nesmith are more trouble than they’re worth. Never shoulda picked them in the first place.”
PETER
I see. Why don’t they just fire us?
MICHAEL spits. Rinses his mouth.
MICHAEL
Sunk cost fallacy.
MICHAEL leaves, turning the light off with PETER still inside.)
PETER
Tell me about it.
PETER walks out the bathroom straight back into 1989.
PETER
Let the record show I still find you extremely obnoxious.
MICHAEL
You always want to blow me when you find me obnoxious.
PETER
God, you’re such a son of a bitch. You know, you’re the only person left who still thinks of me as such a pushover.
MICHAEL
Don’t let it get to you.
MICHAEL smiles. Insincere. PETER smiles back in kind. MICHAEL enters through a door and shuts it behind him. PETER enters through another and they emerge in the green room of a radio station. They sit on the couch.
MICHAEL
Ask me how many guitars do I own.
PETER
A familionaire at twenty-five. How does it feel?
MICHAEL
Five.
PETER
Five? Let me think… Well, the Gretsch.
MICHAEL
Correct.
PETER
That goes without saying.
MICHAEL
Then don’t say it.
PETER
And then… you have a Rick. I know you have a Rick because I’ve seen it.
MICHAEL
Correct.
PETER
And then… the twelve string Martin.
MICHAEL
Yup.
PETER
And the Les? And the Gibson J200? And that’s it?
MICHAEL
That’s it.
PETER
Wow… and I thought I was anti-materialistic.
MICHAEL shrugs.
PETER
You don’t even have a twelve string Rick?
MICHAEL
Nah. Hey– hey, McGuinn’s got me covered if I ever need one. You remember that?
PETER
You– yes, oh my God! And it was strung–
PETER starts laughing. So does MICHAEL.
PETER and MICHAEL
Backwards!
Enter DAVY.
DAVY
Since when are you two in such fucking cahoots?
MICHAEL
Hello to you, too.
PETER
We are not in cahoots.
DAVY
Oh, yeah? Then what do you call all this?
PETER
This? This is… we are categorically not in cahoots.
MICHAEL
That’s not what you said last night.
PETER
Oh, would you give it a break one time?
DAVY
Honestly. He says–
MICHAEL
Jump.
DAVY
You say–
PETER
How high? No! David–
DAVY
You two– you three! Are completely impossible. Dolenz gave me such a hard time this morning that I walked out.
MICHAEL
What’s that now?
DAVY
Yeah. So you two better play nice by which I mean be at each other’s throats in there or my name isn’t Davy Jones, you know?
When they don’t respond, DAVY rolls his eyes and leaves again. MICHAEL and PETER share a glance and shrug. They’re ushered inside by a radio station worker and get prepped while the DJ vamps.
MICHAEL
Damn, son. Now I’m afraid David won’t even share a stage with me after all.
PETER
Well, you’re not gonna back down now. You’re not gonna do that to me.
MICHAEL
To you? Sure I am.
PETER
Okay, well, then I’ll do it.
MICHAEL
Do what?
PETER stares him down.
PETER
(Mouths) Joanne.
MICHAEL
(Quietly) You won’t.
PETER
I will.
MICHAEL
You won’t.
PETER
I will.
MICHAEL
You– W– shut up.
PETER
Oh, but I will. It’s a one-six-four-five in C, Michael, I think I can handle it.
MICHAEL
(Beat) You won’t.
PETER
And I won’t just play it, no. I’ll sing it, too.
MICHAEL’S eyes go wide.
MICHAEL
You. Won’t.
PETER
(Softly) Her name was Joanne and she lived in a meadow by a–
MICHAEL
Fine! Jesus, Fine.
PETER
You’re such a coward.
MICHAEL
Maybe I am. I’ve been around the block a few times.
PETER
So have I.
MICHAEL
It doesn’t show.
PETER
Doesn’t it?
MICHAEL
No. Not really.
DJ
Okay, boys, you’re on.
DJ points at them. A flashbulb goes off, and we hear the sound of a door slamming. PETER bounds into MICHAEL’s house first, and MICHAEL locks the door behind them. PETER cackles, a sound somewhere between anger, joy, and incredulity.
PETER
You son of a bitch! Ha! Deadpan shtick, working the crowd… You really get off on it, don’t you! Acting like you don’t know how excited you can get ‘em–
MICHAEL
I know how excited I can get you.
PETER
Yeah, right.
MICHAEL
Hey, you get what you pay for.
PETER
And you pay for what you get!
PETER pulls MICHAEL toward him by his belt buckle. MICHAEL reaches down to undo PETER’s belt and laughs when it’s not where he feels for it– it’s off to the side.
MICHAEL
Hey, uh… You know, I’ve been lettin’ you jerk me off for fifteen years and I’ve never kissed you.
PETER
(Smiling) You motherfucker… letting me? I’ll show you–
MICHAEL kisses him. PETER leans into it and kisses back. They kiss.
PETER
Hey, uh… I’d really like to prove to you that I can fuck with the best of them–
MICHAEL
No kidding, shotgun–
PETER
But, Michael… I want you to suck my dick.
MICHAEL
Oh. That’s how all this started, isn’t it.
PETER
Oh?
MICHAEL
“Blow me.”
PETER looks at him, confused for a second, then remembers. He smirks, then blows a cool breath across MICHAEL’s face. MICHAEL kisses him and tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth.
MICHAEL
Okay, cool. Then I am gonna suck your dick, shotgun. They don’t call us “the guys who gave you head” for nothing.
PETER
Oh, for crying out loud.
They kiss some more, and stumble upstairs into a bedroom. PETER leans against the bed.
MICHAEL
You’re kind of a freak in the sheets, right?
PETER
I don’t believe in such things.
MICHAEL
Right, sure. But what I mean is…
MICHAEL runs a hand across PETER’s chest, then dusts his fingers along his stomach and hipbones.
MICHAEL
You like to be touched in all sorts of funny places.
MICHAEL moves some of PETER’s hair to bite at the top of his ears. PETER moans softly.
PETER
Sure.
MICHAEL
What I mean is everybody knows you like to give, but I know that means you like to be taken.
MICHAEL pulls PETER toward him by his belt buckle, which he manages to find this time.
PETER
That may be true, but I’m not the same useless hippie I was, you know. Nowadays I do like to take some things for myself.
PETER buries his fingers in MICHAEL’s hair and pulls him close, then guides him down.
MICHAEL
Don’t we deserve a fade to black right about now?
You get what you pay for. MICHAEL undoes PETER’s belt and pulls his pants down.
MICHAEL
Now?
You pay for what you get. PETER sinks back into the bed and closes his eyes. He makes a waving gesture like he’s trying to get someone to go away. Fine. Fade to black.
Lights up in a Colgems office. PETER is wigging out a little, biting his fingernails, staring out the window and cursing society.
SUIT
Jesus, Tork can’t come down for fifteen minutes to have his head screwed on straight in a meeting!
PETER
(Snaps out of it) Well, why would I! This is all such bullshit and you– (he glances at the three other Monkees) you know it!
Nobody says anything. DAVY moves to take PETER’s hand to try and get him to calm down and sit back down but PETER flinches away.
PETER
I don’t see why we have to just sit here and take it! Getting– getting– getting screwed all the time by these people– these people who manage to turn getting screwed into a bad thing and I–
MICHAEL
(Stands) All right, shotgun, it’s time for us to take a little walk.
MICHAEL takes PETER by the arm and starts taking him out of the office.
PETER
Hey, what the hell–
MICHAEL
No, really, I insist.
They exit into the hallway.
MICHAEL
Jesus, can you cool the fuck down, man? ‘Cause you’re makin’ us look like a gang of strung out crackpots the way you’re carrying on in there.
PETER looks like he might cry. MICHAEL sighs.
MICHAEL
All right, babe. What’s the dealie here? Spill, I don’t bite.
PETER continues freaking out, running his hands through his hair and rubbing the back of his neck, getting more worked up as he talks until he’s really on the verge of tears.)
PETER
It’s just. It’s too square in Connecticut, so I go to school. It’s too square at school so I go to New York! It’s too goddamn square in New York so I come to California where I have to spend every day sitting in a goddamn office listening to guys with suits and crew cuts tell us how we’re supposed to make music that we dig, that the kid’s’ll dig, trying to say that we can do what we gotta do and still have their money be the bottom line but I’m telling you that don’t make it! It can’t be about money, man, it’s not about the money. And I’m not dumb, okay, I know it is about the money, but… but, that don’t make it, man, that just don’t make it.
MICHAEL
Shit. I don’t know whether to yell at you or calm you down or what. You’re a fuckin’ pistol, you know that?
PETER
I resent your choice of words.
MICHAEL
Resent away, shotgun. Sheesh. I just mean, uh… Wow.
PETER
What?
MICHAEL
Nothin’, nothin’. Just, uh… you got scruples, I guess.
PETER
I should hope so. Don’t you?
MICHAEL
No, man. I’m as unscrupulous as they come.
PETER
Don’t say that, Michael. You have scruples.
MICHAEL
Oh, yeah? Where?
PETER
Oh, tucked behind your ear where you’re not looking.
MICHAEL
Fruitcake.
PETER
Or words to that effect. I, uh… I don’t think you’re unscrupulous, Michael. Really.
MICHAEL
That’s um… that’s swell, Pete. Uh…
We get the sense MICHAEL might be looking at PETER’s lips. He flicks his gaze very deliberately back up to PETER’s eyes.
MICHAEL
Yeah, well, uh. We should probably–
PETER
Get back.
MICHAEL
To where we once… yeah.
SUIT
(We hear his voice through the ajar door) Tork and Nesmith are more trouble than they’re worth. Never should’ve hired those fuckers.
PETER doesn’t appear to hear it. He looks up at MICHAEL stoically. Then he smiles, and gently flicks the tip of MICHAEL’s nose. MICHAEL swallows. They go back through the door to the office… and they enter into the box. In 1997. They go to their corners and sit.
MICHAEL
Jeez Louise. Thirty years later and they still manage to get us back in the box.
PETER cleans his glasses on his shirt, puts them back on, and cracks his knuckles. MICHAEL flinches at the noise.
PETER
You know what I saw on TV the other day?
MICHAEL
Enlighten me.
PETER
The Rutles. It’s pretty funny. But it made me think, you know, about how we were the original.
MICHAEL
Pastiche.
DAVY and MICKY enter.
DAVY
We get it, Mike, you’ve got a big–
MICKY
Vocabulary. (To his empty corner) This seat taken?
PETER
And then there was this documentary afterward, on alternative medicine. I think it was something to do with George. Anyway, they were talking about trepanning, to relieve headaches. I’ve been getting them lately, I don’t know. Would you ever do something like that?
MICHAEL
No way, pal. I need a hole in the head like I need a hole in the head.
PETER
Sure. Please keep your hands, feet, and head inside the vehicle at all times.
MICKY
Hey, if you got killed getting trepanned, I’d definitely come to the funeral.
PETER
That’s nice. I’m touched.
MICHAEL
In the head.
PETER
And I heard if you die in L.A. you die in real life.
DAVY
You are all completely insane. None of this shit makes any goddamn sense.
MICHAEL
Really? I thought it was pretty straightforward.
MICKY
Simple.
PETER
Run of the mill.
DAVY
Take it easy, would you? Jesus wept.
PETER
Hey, how about some music?
A banjo appears in his hands. They all look up at each other. How’d he do that?
MICKY
That was unusual, right? I mean I’m fairly certain that was unusual.
A sandwich on a plate appears in MICHAEL’s hands. He examines it.
MICHAEL
I thought about a BLT.
MICKY
And?
MICHAEL
It’s light on the mayo.
DAVY
What in the–
PETER
Manifestation! That’s fantastic! You know I never really went in for all that hippie dippy metaphysical mumbo jumbo–
MICKY
Get a load of this guy.
PETER
But you have to admit it’s a pretty neat trick.
A tambourine appears in Davy’s hands. He drops it in surprise. MICKY closes his eyes and opens them, then furrows his brow in confusion.
PETER
No dice?
MICKY
No Coco. I thought about her.
PETER
I think it’s probably only fair that you can’t manifest people.
MICHAEL
Can you manifest the last thirty years of my life back?
PETER
Hm.
PETER starts picking some arpeggios on his banjo.
PETER
Back in 1899
When everybody sang “Auld Lang Syne”
A hundred years was a long, long time
For every boy and girl
MICHAEL’s expression softens. MICKY smiles.
PETER
But one thing that I would like to know
Is where did the twentieth century go?
I swear it was here just a minute ago
All over this world
MICHAEL and PETER
All over this world
All over this world
MICHAEL and PETER and MICKY
The twentieth century is almost over, almost over, almost over
The twentieth century is almost over
All over this world
PETER
Does anybody recall the Great Depression?
I read all about it in “True Confession”
Sorry I was late for the recording session
PETER smiles. The others laugh.
PETER
But somebody put me on hold
And has anybody seen my linoleum floors, petroleum jelly, and two world wars?
They got caught in the revolving doors
All over this world
THE MONKEES
All over this world
All over this world
The twentieth century is almost over, almost over, almost
The twentieth century is almost over
All over this world
PETER
Old Father Time has got his toes a–tapping’
Standing in the window, grumbling and a-rapping
Everybody’s waiting for something to happen
(To MICHAEL) I hope that it happens fast (They smile)
‘Cause the Judgement Day is getting nearer
Here it is in the rear view mirror
If you stand right there you can see a little clearer
All over this world
THE MONKEES
All over this world
All over this world
The twentieth century is almost over, almost over, almost over
The twentieth century is almost over
All over this world.
DAVY picks up the tambourine and gives it a flourish. They laugh and sit back and sigh.
MICHAEL
Yeah, no kidding. The twentieth century… woof.
PETER
That song’s from 1977.
MICHAEL
What did he know?
PETER
What did any of us?
MICKY’s and DAVY’s lights flash, indicating they’re needed.
MICKY
Aren’t you supposed to be directing this bit, Mike?
MICHAEL
That’s what I was led to believe.
MICKY
And yet?
MICHAEL makes a sort of mystical motion, waving his hands, wiggling his fingers.
MICHAEL
Someone else still seems to be pulling the strings.
MICKY
Goofball.
DAVY
Creep.
MICHAEL
Y’all’re being summoned, you know.
MICKY
Yeah, from the dead.
PETER
If you were dead, in a box, you’d never know you were in a box, would you? It would be like being asleep in a box. Not that I’d like to sleep in a box, mind you, not without any air– you’d wake up dead, for a start, and then where would you be? Apart from inside the box. That’s the bit I don’t like, frankly.
The other three stare at him. MICKY and DAVY share a glance, shrug, and leave.
MICHAEL
You cool, Pete?
PETER
Yeah, I um… Yeah. Actually a lot cooler than I’ve been in a while.
MICHAEL
Tell me more.
PETER
Well, like I was going to say about The Rutles before. I get hung up because I’m not terribly nostalgic but… I’m starting to understand why the whole Monkee trip had to go how it did, you know?
MICHAEL
Yeah…?
PETER
Yeah. You know, I never would’ve understood it at the time, and I was very up on my high horse about it, as you know, but you were no stranger to that aloofness either.
MICHAEL
Yeah…
PETER
It was a cash grab. It was always going to be a Beatle rip-off cash grab, and we made ourselves crazy pretending like it was meant to be something bigger. Like we were meant for something better.
MICHAEL
You know, I’ve heard you say that on the radio a number of times.
PETER
Yeah.
MICHAEL
Aw, come on, man. Who’s paying you to say that shit? You don’t have to say that. I didn’t take you for a liar, Pete, I mean I really didn’t take you for a liar.
PETER
Wait, what? No, I’m saying– wait, you’re still not willing to admit you might have been the tiniest bit wrong about the Monkee bit? About what Bert and Bob intended? About how naive we were?
MICHAEL
Hey, listen, babe, it’s okay if you’re back in it for the money, but you’re not gonna pretend like you suddenly get where they were coming from. Like you think it’s okay how they treated you– us.
PETER
You– what? How can you spit that at me like you’re not always just in it for the money? Is this for real?
MICHAEL
You tell me.
PETER
You told me.
MICHAEL
Having trouble with tense?
PETER
Or a tension problem?
MICHAEL
Having deja vu?
PETER
Do I… have to do this all over again? Didn’t I do it right the first time?
MICHAEL
Well, apparently not, shotgun! If you’re getting square with how that went then I don’t know who the fuck I’m talking to.
PETER
Oh, for God’s sake, Michael. If every little minute fucking detail doesn’t go precisely your way the whole thing’s a bust, right?
MICHAEL
Right!
PETER
Fuck you, then!
MICHAEL
Fuck you!
PETER
Fine! This is so juvenile, like no goddamn time has passed at all…
PETER trails off and makes for the door, leaving and slamming it behind him, and entering into… the box. In 2008.
PETER
Oh, for crying out loud. What are you doing here?
MICHAEL
Same thing as ever. Living until I die.
PETER
We were supposed to be this conduit for this mood and we thought we were supposed to be musicians. But, you know. We were and we weren’t.
MICHAEL
We weren’t.
PETER
Never? Not ever?
MICHAEL
You’re referring to Headquarters, then.
PETER
I often am.
MICHAEL
I heard you on the radio.
PETER cringes slightly.
PETER
You don’t have to do that, you know.
MICHAEL
I know.
PETER
Self-flagellating, then. Saint Michael.
MICHAEL
I heard you don’t want anything to do with me.
PETER
You didn’t want anything to do with me first.
MICHAEL
Nuh-uh.
PETER
You must be joking.
MICHAEL
Not your line.
PETER
(In a huff) I have heard you say countless times how obnoxious you find me, how distasteful my personality, how you just can’t see your way to even maintaining the most cursory of friendly acquaintanceships with me because of how like oil and water we are. And Michael? For the first time in decades, decades, I’ve finally discovered how to let you just run off my back. So no. I don’t want anything to do with you. I don’t know if I ever did.
MICHAEL's brow furrows.
MICHAEL
Oh, no. Hey. Now, wait a minute. Now, wait just a minute. (To the ether) I’m not letting you be the boss of me! Not anymore.
PETER
He’s not trying to be the boss of you. He’s just doing his job.
MICHAEL starts leaving, pushing past PETER.
PETER
He’s just another character!
MICHAEL
Not good enough!
MICHAEL puts his fist through the far wall of the box, ripping a hole in it just large enough for PETER and him to climb through.
They enter into a gray room in a Cincinnati police station, empty except for some benches along the walls. They startle. They look at each other. It’s 1967!
PETER and MICHAEL
Do I have to do this all over again? Didn’t I do it right the first time?
They scowl. They shove each other and go to separate corners of the cell.
PETER
I don’t like this.
MICHAEL
I just have one question.
PETER
For fuck’s sake, Michael.
MICHAEL
Have you ever been… arrested?
PETER glares at him and begins pacing. MICHAEL leans casually against a wall.
PETER
How come they split us up, huh? And how come they had to split us up like this?
MICHAEL
Your guess is as good as mine, shotgun. You know I’d rather be trapped with Mick. Speaking of, I wonder how the face and the voice are getting along without us.
PETER
Uh-huh. I’m sure they’re having a whale of a time.
MICHAEL
Right.
PETER
Right.
MICHAEL
Well. Here we are.
PETER
Here we are. In the big fucking black fucking box. Like fucking always.
MICHAEL
Christ almighty, what’s got you so uptight?
PETER
What’s got you so zen?
MICHAEL
(Shrugs) Everything dies, baby, that’s a fact.
PETER
Maybe everything that dies someday comes back. (Shakes his head.) How did we get out of this predicament the last time?
MICHAEL
We made out.
PETER
We did not!
MICHAEL
Like bandits.
PETER
Fuck you.
MICHAEL
Maybe we did and maybe we didn’t. Who’s to say?
PETER
We are! You never gave a solitary shit about me and I’m finally hip to that. I didn’t understand shit back in the day. I contemplated you. I agonized over you. And you treated me like dirt. You ignored me. You shit-talked me behind my back! You took what we built and ran off without me and–
MICHAEL
Whoa, whoa, whoa, I think you’re gettin’ a little ahead of yourself, there, pal. I think you’re forgetting who ran off without whom.
PETER
No, I’m not. Because you took everything when you left. I had nothing. Nothing. I had Halle and the floors of old victorians and–
MICHAEL
And what did I have?
PETER
Everything.
MICHAEL
What?
PETER
You had everything. Michael, you had a band. Which is to say, you had–
MICHAEL
Everything. I read you.
MICHAEL sighs and pounds his fist lightly against the wall. He sings softly.
MICHAEL
Don’t it always seem to go…
MICHAEL looks up at PETER for him to continue. He doesn’t.
MICHAEL
That you don’t know what you got till it’s gone.
Suddenly, the room shakes. MICHAEL and PETER scramble to grab at the walls or anything to keep themselves righted. “Big Yellow Taxi” by Joni Mitchell plays loudly. The lights flash for a moment then shut off. When they come up again they’re back in the box. It’s 2012. The lights shut off. They come back up. It’s 1974. This repeats a number of times, until the lights come up and linger in 2012. Still, whenever we see them, they look slightly different. We recognize the young and old versions of them we’ve seen throughout.
MICHAEL
God! This is such bullshit. And I even like that song. Long title.
PETER
Thanks.
PETER paces in a small circle.
PETER
Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter if we’re inside the box or not. The box is life! It exists even when the physical thing is gone. You know?
MICHAEL
I know. Don’t mean I have to like it.
PETER
I know. I ordered this and I don’t want it. And now I get shell shock whenever I see a chick in a green wool hat. So it goes.
And where does that leave me? Beat. MICHAEL doesn’t apologize. MICHAEL doesn’t apologize for anything, ever.
MICHAEL
So it goes, I guess. I mean, I get it, too.
PETER
You–
MICHAEL
Shell shock. Whatever you wanna call it. You gave me mismatched socks for balance and I gave you shell shock. So it goes.
PETER
Well–
MICHAEL
I never wanted nothing to do with you– I mean I– I never didn’t want– I mean… Fuck. You. I liked having you in my life.
PETER
(Frowns) I liked having you in my life, too, Michael. And then you fucked it up. You can’t just evaporate out of existence like that, no note, no nothing. You owe people more than that.
MICHAEL frowns. PETER goes and sits in his own corner. MICHAEL comes and sits next to him.
PETER
That’s not your mark.
MICHAEL
Fuck it. I’m going off script.
PETER
Do you really think that’ll work?
MICHAEL
Do you really think that’ll work?
PETER
Don’t do that.
MICHAEL
Don’t do that.
PETER
Seriously, please, would you not do that?
MICHAEL
Seriously, please, would you not do that?
PETER
Stop copying me!
MICHAEL
Stop copying me!
PETER
For Christ’s sake… Why are you doing this?
MICHAEL
I’m a copy of a copy of a copy. I don’t know how to be anything else.
PETER
I’m a copy of a copy of a copy. I don’t know how to be anything else. (He fishes around in his pocket for a matchbook. Finding one in a shirt from the mid 1960’s, he goes to strike a match, but seems to notice something on his hands. He watches them as they grow more wrinkles and lose them. He looks up.) Did you ever read the book Flatland?
MICHAEL
Can’t say that I have.
PETER
Well, it’s about… it was written by this mathematician, and it’s, well, it’s an allegory for Victorian England and the rigid class structure therein. You see, the characters are all these two-dimensional, flat, regular polygons that represent your class standing. And when they get married and have children, the child has one more side than the father, if it’s a boy, representing social mobility. Am I being clear?
MICHAEL's eyes are glued to PETER.
MICHAEL
Crystal.
PETER
Well, the protagonist, this square, one day he gets visited by a three dimensional sphere.
PETER holds up his hands to represent them, one flat, horizontally in front of him and one in a fist, bobbing up and down above and diagonal from the other.
PETER
And he can only appear to the square in the two dimensional plane, of course, so when he does, he appears as a growing and shrinking circle as he bobs up and down in the plane of flatland, since obviously only a horizontal cross section can exist there at a time.
MICHAEL
All right.
PETER
And so… but let’s take as an assumption that in the real world, there’s another dimension acting upon us: time. And so… if you take something beholden to time and bring it to a space with less dimensionality, e.g. the box– (he gestures around them)– then you can only see a three dimensional cross section of time at once, and so something in there might appear to be growing constantly older and younger… Look at your hands.
MICHAEL does. He sees them getting wrinkled and turning back. He turns over his left hand and examines his fingertips.
MICHAEL
Check it out. Calluses.
PETER looks over to see MICHAEL’s calluses growing and shrinking. PETER turns over his own hand and they barely change. He holds his hand next to MICHAEL’s.
PETER
Look, mine barely go away. It’s like what you said about me being a throughline. Blond hair, sideways belt buckle, mismatched socks. Calluses.
The lights shut off suddenly. Then, the only light source is a projection on the wall. MICHAEL, PETER, and MICKY on stage together. PETER on stage by himself, playing “Come On In.” PETER’s life in the Village. MICHAEL performing by himself. “The Keys to the Car” begins playing. We see visions of PETER being fucked over. We see him fight with MICHAEL.
PETER
When is this from… 1970?
MICHAEL
Yeah. Though I’d had most of ‘em written before then.
They make eye contact, listening to the last verse. If you say you’re their friend I’m afraid you will learn they want only friends they can have on their terms. But the love that you’ve shown them will give you an edge for authority is more than wearing a badge.
PETER
That’s a pretty neat trick, Michael.
MICHAEL
I guess so.
PETER
And times being what they are.
MICHAEL
It’s nice work if you can get it.
MICHAEL twiddles his thumbs, then looks at PETER.
MICHAEL
If you go now, you’re gonna end up back in the box.
PETER smiles. He knows something MICHAEL doesn’t, but he doesn’t pity him. He is surprised how after all these years he still doesn’t get it.
PETER
(With a familiar cadence) Don’t you understand? It doesn’t matter if we’re inside the box or not.
PETER looks at MICHAEL and raises one eyebrow. He smiles again and looks ahead.
Exit PETER. MICHAEL watches this, and sighs, and wrings his hands. Eventually MICHAEL makes some peace and follows PETER. Blackout.
Lights up on a gray room in a Cincinnati police station, empty except for some benches along the walls, and two Monkees.
Blackout.