Monkee One Shots

Monkee in the Middle

The beating sun was shining across California with a slight breeze to the air, giving a small relief to anybody out on this hot and humid day. Of course, none other than the four fabulous boys were out on this afternoon trying to destress and cool their lives. They were out in their swim wear as they swam in the wide ocean water waves on the coast line, but they needed a change of pace. 

"I know! What about some 'Monkee' in the middle!" Dolenz giggles at his own little stupid joke.

"I dig it." The tall Texan replies with a casual expression. He didn't care much for Micky's joke. "Pete, did ya bring the beach ball?" Mike asks with his arms crossed as his feet sink into the warm sand.

"Yeah!" Peter pulls out a inflatable, multicolored sheet from his pocket. He locates the cap in the side to open and apply air to the opening. As a response to this, the sheet starts to gain a more circular shape till it turns into an airy beach ball. "Here, Michael!" He gives a sweet smile as he hands the ball to his tall pal.

"Fellas, do we have to play this game?" Davy nearly whines at the others. He hates playing this game with the others as he always gets stuck in the middle.

"Of course, Davy! What better way to pass the time?" Micky pipes up cheerily to his cheeky nature, not thinking about Davy struggle.

"Oh, alright . . ." Davy replies reluctantly. He sees the other three want to enjoy some fun in the sun and he's not going to ruin that for everyone.

"Yeah! Let's choose fingers! Odd one starts in the middle!" Peter calls out. He sees everybody is soon ready for the mini game and starts the countdown. "One, Two, Three, Shoot!" His fingers signal a two. He looks around his friends' hands to see they all hold up one finger. "Well, guess I'm it!"

Jones looks relieved as he sees Peter with the odd finger out. If they started with him, they would be outside all day! As Mike and Micky get into position, he backs away from the group to leave his golden haired chap in the middle of the playing field.

"Y'all ready?" Nesmith announces to the other three with the beach ball in hand.

"Yeah!" Micky and Peter nearly shout in excitement.

Davy though wasn't too excited, he replies with a simple: "Yeah . . ."

"Alright fellas, start!" Michael immediately throws the beach ball in the sky and strikes it mid-air to send it flying over Peter and toward Micky. "Mick, get it!"

As Mike sent the ball over Pete, he tries to leap for it, but fails at grasping it. He then shoots his head over to Micky to see he didn't catch the ball and runs over to him, making sand fly up from his feet.

Micky frantically tries to get the striped ball in his possession before the 'Monkee' could beat him to it. He snatches the ball as Peter approaches and throws it to Davy. "Catch it, Davy!" He yells for a warning.

The British man looks up to the clouds to see his target, he runs to where he needs to go to catch it and does so successfully! He quickly gets rid of the ball to gift it to Michael.

"H-Hey! Get off of me, Pete!" Micky shrieks as Peter had accidentally fell on his curly haired bandmate. His body is covered in warm, grainy sand as he was forced to lay upon the oceans boarder with Peter on top of him.

"Sorry, Micky!" Tork quickly gets off of him and sprints towards the ball once again heading it's way into Davy's hands.

"Got it, Mike!" Davy owns the beach ball once again but notices a problem, Peter is gaining on to him and he need to depose of it immediately! "Micky!" He calls out as he throws it towards his silly friend.