Head Script

EXT. GERALD DESMOND BRIDGE

COP:
Okay? Folks, if you please. Mayor, I think we’re ready to go.

MAYOR:
Oh, good. I mean, uh, fine. That’s good. Uh, Phil, will you take this please?

COP:
This way, sir.

PHIL:
Mayor! Got something for you. Sorry, sir.

MAYOR:
Oh, thank you, Phil.

COP:
Here we are, sir.

MAYOR:
Thank you. Ah. Ladies and gentlemen, I hereby—ladies and gentlemen, I—

COP:
Testing (testing testing), one two.

MAYOR:
Ladies and gentlemen. I—ladies and—

COP:
Testing (testing testing), one two.

MAYOR:
Ladies and gentlemen—

[Guard taps the microphone.]

MAYOR:
Ladies and gentlemen, I hereby dedicate this magnificent marvel of modern architecture, one of the largest suspended arch bridges in the world, to the people of—

“Porpoise Song (Theme From ‘Head’)”

INT. THE PAD

MIKE:
Well?

LADY PLEASURE:
Even.

MIKE [whispering]:
Um… why don’t you come back later when the guys aren’t here?

LADY PLEASURE:
Are you kidding? Ha ha!

MIKE:
Hey, now wait a minute. Now wait just a minute.

“Ditty Diego”

EXT. ROSE BOWL

CROWD:
We want the Monkees!

DAVY:
Gimme a W!

CROWD:
W!

PETER:
Gimme an A!

CROWD:
A!

MICKY:
Give me an R!

CROWD:
R!

MIKE:
What does it spell?

CROWD:
War!

EXT. BRONSON CANYON

DAVY:
I can’t see. It’s too deep.

MIKE:
What you say?

DAVY:
I said I can’t see. It’s too deep. I’ve gotta have boost or something.

MICKY:
Here, you can stand on my helmet. It’s too heavy. I don’t wanna wear it. It’s a drag. It presses down on my head.

PETER:
You really oughta wear your helmet, Micky.

MICKY:
What for?

PETER:
Well, you might get a shot in the head, for one thing.

MICKY:
A shot in the head, wow! Ow! Why didn’t you say a shot in the arm, or a shot in the leg, and a sniper could be on top of that mountain and blow off the right half of my chest? Or a plane could come zooming in through that pass and drop a bomb on my head.

PETER:
Well, I’m wearing mine.

MICKY:
That’s cool.

MIKE:
Alright, need a volunteer. We’re out of ammo.

PETER:
I’ll go.

MIKE:
See that you do.

EXT. BRONSON CANYON

PHOTOGRAPHER:
Hold it! This is for Life!

EXT. BRONSON CANYON

PRIVATE ONE:
Ahh!

PETER:
Excuse me?

PRIVATE ONE:
West nineteen, west nineteen, reverse!

PETER:
Is someone here?

PRIVATE ONE:
We’re number one! We’re number one! We’re number one!

PETER:
One? Mr. One? May I call—Number? Actually, I was just here about some ammo.

PRIVATE ONE:
Ahh!

PETER:
Uh, Mr. One?

PRIVATE ONE:
Day in and day out!

PETER:
Excuse me, sir?

PRIVATE ONE:
Where’d he go? Where’d he go? Where’d he go? Ah. Oh boy! He just came over.

EXT. BRONSON CANYON

MIKE:
He’ll never make it through this intense bombardment. Nobody could.

PETER:
Here, Mick. I got this for you.

MICKY:
Wow!

PETER:
I thought you’d like it better.

MICKY:
Stars!

PETER:
Nice.

MICKY:
Hey, that’s great, Pete!

PETER:
Yeah.

MIKE:
Okay, you guys ready? Okay, guys, let’s hit that line.

EXT. BRONSON CANYON

PRIVATE ONE:
Ahh!

INT. VALLEY MUSIC HALL

CROWD:
We want the Monkees!

“Circle Sky”

INT. VICTOR’S ROOM

BELA LEGOSI [on TV]:
I gave him a very powerful narcotic, and I am sure it will be effective soon.

RONA BARRETT [on TV]:
Barbara Stanwyck may be in for a slight shock. Her son, Anthony Dion Fay, just sold a provocative story about his relationship with Barbara.

RALPH WILLIAMS [on TV]:
Hiya friends, Ralph Williams, owner of the world’s largest Ford dealership.

ARNOLD MOSS [on TV]:
Your majesty, he acknowledges a king higher than you.

CHARLES LAUGHTON [on TV]:
But you are the messiah.

RONALD REAGAN [on TV]:
Our ship better be sailing out of that harbor on its way home within twenty-four hours, or we’re coming in after it.

DAVID MANNERS [on TV]:
Sounds like a lot of supernatural baloney to me.

BELA LEGOSI [on TV]:
Supernatural, perhaps. Baloney, perhaps not.

MAN [on TV]:
I don’t read papers. I don’t listen to the radio. I haven’t seen a television in years.

ANN MILLER [on TV]:
You make motion pictures, don’t you?

EDDIE KANE, GEORGE ELDREDGE [on TV]:
Yes.

ANN MILLER [on TV]:
You’re always looking for talent?

EDDIE KANE [on TV]:
Yes.

ANN MILLER [on TV]:
Watch this.

MAN [on TV]:
What happened?

RALPH WILLIAMS [on TV]:
Here at the world’s largest Ford dealership, we—

RALPH WILLIAMS [on TV]:
The world’s largest Ford dealership—

CHICK LAMBERT [on TV]:
And we’re the world’s largest Ford dealer—

EXT. PALM SPRINGS DESERT

MICKY (V.O.):
My canteen was empty. But once, it was full. I felt I couldn’t go on.

MICKY:
I… can’t!

MICKY (V.O.):
But something, something kept telling me I must. You must.

MICKY:
I must.

[Empty.]

MICKY:
Ahh no! No! Nah! No! N! No! No! Nah! Nah! Nah! Nah!

CHOIR:
♪ Things go better with Coca-Cola ♪
♪ Things go better with Coke ♪

MICKY (V.O.):
Pathetic.

MICKY:
I can’t.

MICKY (V.O.):
It’s pitiful!

MICKY:
Shut up.

MICKY (V.O.):
You shut up.

MICKY:
No, you shut up!

MICKY (V.O.):
You shut up.

MICKY:
Shut up!

MICKY (V.O.):
You!

MICKY:
Youyouyouyouyouyouyoushutupyoushutupyou!

MICKY (V.O.):
Okay, I will.

MICKY:
I can’t… I can’t hear. No, I’m deaf! Come back! I’m going de—ah!

VOICE (V.O.):
Quiet, isn’t it? George. Michael. Dolenz. I said quiet, isn’t it? George. Michael. Dolenz.

BLACK SHEIK:
Psst!

[Micky comes closer.]

BLACK SHEIK:
Psst! Ya!

MICKY:
Huh?

VITTELONI:
Americano?

MICKY:
Wha-what?

VITTELONI:
Ma sei Americano?

MICKY:
Americano.

VITTELONI:
Oh, finalmente! Ecco! Aspetta minuto, eh? Aspetta. Ah. Che piacere. Accidenti. Ah! Americano, eh? [claps] Mwah! Mwah! Oh, che piacere che ti ho trovato, hey? Senti un po. Noi ci arrendiamo, sì? Perché sotto queste circostanze… noi-noi ci arrendiamo. Arrendere. Io arrendo. Ah, ah, uh. Surrender. Ah, oh… uh, boom-boom. Surrender. Ey.

[Vitteloni runs off.]

VITTELONI:
Ey, surrender. Ah! Oh!

INT. FORT BRIDGER

“Can You Dig It”

INT. WESTERN SET

TESTY TRUE:
Quick. Suck it before the venom reaches my heart.

MIKE:
Oof! What heart? When you’re finished there, you can help me by pulling this painfully barbed savages’ arrow, first, by snipping the head off in the back, and then pulling it from the front quickly so that it doesn’t hurt me. Uh!

TESTY TRUE:
Are you gonna help me or not?

MICKY:
What about Davy and Peter?

MIKE:
I’ve sent them to Fort Bridger for reinforcements on the possibility that our position should be overrun.

MICKY:
Are you kidding? What are we supposed to do here?

MIKE:
Hold on against insurmountable odds. What’s with her?

MICKY:
Hey, come on. Get up, lady, you’re not dead. Hey lady, come on, get up, stop acting.

TESTY TRUE:
Hey, what is this?

MICKY:
Hey, come on. Stop playing. It’s all over. It’s all an act. Come on, get up.

TESTY TRUE:
Well, stop kicking me!

MICKY:
I don’t want to do this anymore, man. Aw, these fake arrows and this junk and the fake trees. Bob, I’m through. It all stinks, man.

MIKE:
Hey, well, Micky, wait a minute!

MICKY:
???

MIKE:
Well, Mick, wait a minute, man. I’ll go with ya. Wait, hold it, hold it.

EXT. HIDEOUT

LORD HIGH ’n’ LOW:
Ah! I’ll choke from excitement! Ahh! I been looking all over for you creeps! Where you been? Where you rats been? You ain’t holding out on me, are you?

MICKY:
Uh, no.

DAVY:
No.

LORD HIGH ’n’ LOW:
Don’t give me that! I been looking all over the world for ya! Anyway, the idea is this. Byproducts. Imagine the tie-ins. Blonde wigs for kids. Swords. The whole phallic thing is happening. I mean, why don’t we use classic things? Millions! I’m telling ya, millions! Hey! Nobody walks out on me, not even myself! Alright! Come back, you guys!

EXT. COLUMBIA STUDIOS

FLOWER POT MAN:
Hey! Hey!

PAUL REVERE:
They’re coming!

INT. CANTEEN

PAUL REVERE:
They’re coming! They’re coming! They’re coming!

CROWD:
Oh, they’re awful!

CROWD:
I’m outta here!

CROWD:
Monkees, smell like…

CROWD:
I can’t eat with these stinking kids around here.

CROWD:
Who are The Monkees? Never heard of them.

CROWD:
Look at my cape.

CROWD:
Can’t even have a decent lunch.

CROWD:
Look at that one kid.

MIKE:
Phew! Drinks on the house!

ACE:
Well, if it isn’t God’s gift to the eight year olds.

MIKE:
Just trying to please.

ACE:
Changing your image time? While you’re at it, why don’t you have them write you some talent?

MICKY:
Hey, what’s wrong?

PETER:
What’s wrong with you?

MICKY:
I asked you first.

PETER:
I ordered this, and I don’t want it.

MICKY:
So throw it away.

PETER:
I can’t. There are starving Chi—

MICKY:
Little starving Chinese. Yeah.

PETER:
This is serious.

MIKE:
I’d like a finger sandwich please, and hold the mold.

DAVY:
And, uh, I’d like a glass of, uh, cold gravy with a hair in it, please.

ACE:
One of your own? Are you still paying tribute to Ringo Starr?

MICKY:
Would you like a pinch in the mouth?

ACE:
I’ll think about it.

MICKY:
Don’t hurt yourself. And while you do, I would like to order twelve Boff crackers and a cup of mushrooms, crisp.

ACE:
Yes, and I’ll throw in a side of mouthwash—phew—on the house.

MICKY:
Come on, let’s get out of this nightclub.

ACE:
But what about the food?

MIKE:
Have it cleaned and burned. Come on, Pete.

DAVY:
Wait, wait, wait. Don’t move. I want to forget you just as you are. Heh heh. Peter, come on, let’s go. Psst, hey, come here. Now this is serious. What you say, you and me, go someplace, where we won’t bump into each other again? Ha ha.

INT. GRAND OLYMPIC AUDITORIUM

CROWD:
Kill ’im!

REFEREE:
One, two, three…

MICKY:
Stay down!

REFEREE:
…four.

CROWD:
That’s right! That’s right!

REFEREE:
One, two…

MICKY:
Stay down!

REFEREE:
…three, four, five, six…

MICKY:
Stay down!

CROWD:
Get ’im! Get ’im! That’s right! Hit ’im!

MICKY:
I’m telling him to stay down!

MIKE:
He’d better. The money says so.

MICKY:
Stay down! Stay down!

MIKE:
[shakes head]

TERESA:
Please don’t, Davy! Davy, don’t, please don’t!

INT. TERESA’S HOUSE

TERESA:
Don’t, Davy. Please don’t.

DAVY:
I have to do this.

TERESA:
But why do you have to?

DAVY:
Why? Wh-what am I gonna do? Play violin in two-bit clubs all my life?

TERESA:
But Davy—

DAVY:
Forget it. Plea—forget what father Duffy and ma say about Carnegie Hall.

TERESA:
But you play so beautifully.

DAVY:
It isn’t good enough. You understand? At-at this I-I could’ve been champ.

TERESA:
Then you have to? Their way?

DAVY:
That’s right. They pick the round, and I pick the guy. Don’t worry, Teresa. I won’t get hurt.

INT. SET

BOB RAFELSON:
Good.

DAVY:
Yeah?

BOB RAFELSON:
Got all the fighters up here.

DAVY:
Anyone?

BOB RAFELSON:
Yeah.

DAVY:
Great. I’ll have a go at him. You won’t hurt my face, will ya? Million dollar head, this.

BOB RAFELSON:
Why him, Davy?

DAVY:
Well, you know, I like him. He looks like a nice guy, and I like his smile. Come on, see if you can hit me, just once, just once.

INT. GRAND OLYMPIC AUDITORIUM

MICKY:
Stay down!

CROWD:
Kill him! Kill him!

MICKY:
I told him to stay down.

MIKE:
Yeah, well, he didn’t hear ya.

MICKY:
Stay down, dummy!

MIKE:
You’re the dummy.

MICKY:
No, no no, he’s the dummy.

MIKE:
You’re the dummy.

MICKY:
No, no no, he’s the dummy. He’s the—

MIKE:
You are the dummy, dummy!

MICKY:
No, he’s the dummy! I’m not the dummy! He’s the—he’s the—

[Micky enters the ring.]

MICKY:
Stay down, dummy!

[Mike enters the ring.]

MICKY:
Dummy, huh?

[The police grab Micky.]

MICKY:
Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Gah!

PETER:
Micky? Micky? Micky? I’m the dummy, Micky. I’m always the dummy.

MICKY:
You’re right, Pete. You’re always the dummy. I forgot. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You’re always the dummy, Pete. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

INT. CANTEEN

PETER (V.O.):
I’m always the dummy. I’m always the dummy.

ACE:
Don’t listen to them, Peter. They’re wise guys, punks. All they want to do is hurt people and abuse them.

PETER:
How do you feel now?

ACE:
Oh, comme ci, comme ça.

BOB RAFELSON:
Alright, that’s enough. Cut it. Print it, please. Good hit. Alright, that should be it. Pete, I think we’re on another set, hey, man?

PETER:
Hey, Bob? That’s not right, man.

BOB RAFELSON:
What?

PETER:
Oh, you know, about hitting a girl. Hey Ace, was that alright, man? Did that look good?

ACE:
I thought it looked great.

PETER:
Yeah, but about hitting a woman and everything. Man, it’s about the the image and everything. It’s not right.

ACE:
No.

AUTOGRAPHER SEEKER:
Peter, I hate to interrupt—

PETER:
Yeah, I know, it’s for your niece. It’s quite alright. What’s her name?

AUTOGRAPHER SEEKER:
Mary.

JON ANDERSEN:
Alright, fellas, let’s move over to the right.

AUTOGRAPHER SEEKER:
Thank you.

JON ANDERSEN:
Peter, you gotta—

PETER:
Jon, Jon, was that right, man?

JON ANDERSEN:
Yeah, fine, man.

PETER:
Jon, that’s not right.

BOB RAFELSON:
Can you move over to stage five? Stage five.

DENNIS HOPPER:
Bob? Bob?

PETER:
It has to do—man, it’s a kid—

DENNIS HOPPER:
When you have a minute? When you have a minute? When you have a minute?

ACE:
I’ll see you later, Peter.

PETER:
Bob, it’s a movie for kids. They’re not gonna dig it, man.

JON ANDERSEN:
Just gotta make a wardrobe change, man.

PETER:
Tell Gene to put my clothes in the trailer.

JON ANDERSEN:
Gene Ashman, get the wardrobe ready.

JACK NICHOLSON:
What’s wrong?

BOB RAFELSON:
It worked, it worked, it worked.

PETER:
No, it doesn’t. It’s not right. No, Bob, it’s for the image, man. Think of it. The kids aren’t gonna dig it, man. Me hitting a girl? Especially the way I feel about violence and all that stuff, you know? You know everybody—

BOB RAFELSON:
Alright, we’ll cut it out of the film. If it doesn’t work, we’ll just cut it out of the film.

PETER:
Yeah, you tell me that, man, and it never happens. They tell me they’ll cut it out of the film—

BOB RAFELSON:
Peter, let’s go. We gotta get on the other set. Hurry up, Pete.

PETER:
Davy? Did that look alright, man?

DAVY:
What?

PETER:
Well, you know, hitting a girl on film.

DAVY:
Sure, it was great, great, terrific.

PETER:
You thought so?

“As We Go Along”

INT. FACTORY

INSPECTOR SHRINK:
I said capable of three hundred horsepower a piece, and all on one pressure valve. This crane has a lifting power of over three hundred tons. Be careful there. Don’t lean over the edge. We spend rather a good deal of our time here ensuring a perfect working condition. An interesting aspect is the safety factor.

DAVY:
Hey, Peter.

INSPECTOR SHRINK:
Change one tape, the entire process is re-geared. Pleasure: the inevitable byproduct of our civilization. A new world whose only preoccupation will be how to amuse itself. Tragedy of your times, my young friends, is that you may get exactly what you want. Step lively, gentlemen.

PETER:
Come on, Davy. Let’s go.

INSPECTOR SHRINK:
That which produces heat is a thermodynamic process, as opposed to mechanical, which is a reversible process. Three men operate this entire department.

PETER:
Davy, come on.

INSPECTOR SHRINK:
Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. The entire process is self-stimulated, automated, regulatory.

PETER:
Come on, Davy.

INSPECTOR SHRINK:
And to the degree that we are capable of understanding these mechanical–electrical devices as simple extensions of our brains. To that same degree, we are capable of using these same machines productively. This way, gentlemen.

DAVY:
Peter?

INSPECTOR SHRINK:
Come along. Come along.

INT. BLACK BOX

PETER:
Sir?

MICKY:
What happened to the lift—?

PETER:
What happened to the cap—?

MIKE:
Hey, the door’s locked too, man!

PETER:
We can’t get out!

MICKY:
Hey, uh, what—

???:
Where are we?

MICKY:
—room are we—

PETER:
—in trouble—

MICKY:
What? What is that?

MIKE:
I can’t see anything.

PETER:
What? What’s going on?

MICKY:
What? What’s that light? I can’t see anything. Hey, hey, open up!

DAVY:
What’s happening? What’s happening?

MIKE:
Hey!

BOB RAFELSON:
Alright, fellas, could you come forward please?

MICKY:
Who’s that?

BOB RAFELSON:
That’s it. Come on up forward, huh, fellas?

MICKY:
Who are—who are you?

BOB RAFELSON:
Come on. Just keep coming forward. That’s it. That’s it. Alright, now come on, work your way closer to the set. That’s it.

MICKY:
Uh.

BOB RAFELSON:
Now you’re doing better. Come on. A little faster, fellas. Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on. Get in there.

MICKY:
Where?

BOB RAFELSON:
Get inside.

MIKE:
What, in here?

BOB RAFELSON:
Get inside. Get inside, will ya please? That’s the idea. Alright.

DAVY:
This is crazy.

BOB RAFELSON:
Alright, now jump up and down a little, huh, fellas? Get lost in it.

MICKY:
Jump into this? What is this?

BOB RAFELSON:
There you go. Very good. Look, you’re supposed to be dandruff, fellas. Will you work at it, please?

MICKY:
Dandruff?!

DAVY:
Dandruff?!

???:
Alright, playback, please.

BOB RAFELSON:
There you go. Little action. Little jumping. Get lost in it.

CHOIR:
♪ Dandruff, dandruff ♪
♪ We know it can be rough ♪
♪ But not if you get Tuff ♪
♪ We’re Tuff, Tuff Tuff ♪
♪ Removes forever ♪
♪ Removes forever ♪
♪ Tuff removes dandruff ♪
♪ Dandruff! ♪

BOB RAFELSON:
Okay, Vic, that should be it for today. Thank you.

INT. VACUUM CLEANER

PETER:
Whoa!

MIKE:
Whoa!

PETER:
Oh, mother of pearl!

MIKE:
A cigarette? Ohh! Ha ha ha ha ha. This is not one of your standard brands.

MICKY:
Oh, an el zumo!

PETER:
Imagine having to smoke that whole thing.

MIKE:
Smoking may be hazardous to your health.

MICKY:
You see that, Davy?

PETER:
Davy—where’s Davy?

MICKY:
Hey Davy?

MIKE:
Davy? Hey Davy?

MICKY:
Davy? Davy? Davy?

PETER:
He’s up the tube!

MICKY:
Hey, you stuck up there, Davy?

MIKE:
Davy? Hey!

MICKY:
Hey, now, somebody has to be on the bottom.

MIKE:
Well, I’m the tallest and the strongest.

MICKY:
So you’re the bottom.

MIKE:
I—oh, well—

PETER:
Everybody’s where they wanna be.

MIKE:
Yeah.

MICKY:
That was a particularly inept thing to say, Peter, considering that we are in a vacuum cleaner. Davy? (Davy?) Davy? (Davy?) Davy? (Davy?) Davy? (Davy?)

INT. BLACK BACKGROUND / WHITE BACKGROUND

“Daddy’s Song”

EXT. COLUMBIA STUDIOS

CRITIC:
Song was pretty white.

DAVY:
Well, so am I, what can I tell ya?

CRITIC:
You’ve been working on your dancing though.

DAVY:
Oh, yeah, yeah, well, I’ve been rehearsing it. Glad you noticed that.

CRITIC:
Yeah, doesn’t leave much time for your music. You should spend more time on it, because the youth of America depends on you to show the way.

DAVY:
Yeah?

CRITIC:
Yeah!

BULL:
Monkees is the craziest people.

DAVY:
Did any of you cats see Micky or Mike or Peter around here?

EXT. COLUMBIA STUDIOS

OFFICER:
Alright. Alright. Come on out.

MIKE:
Oh, okay. Wait a minute.

OFFICER:
Come on. Out!

MICKY:
Hey, why have we stopped?

OFFICER:
I don’t even wanna hear why or what from you, just out.

MIKE:
Oh, well, sure, anything you say.

OFFICER:
On, get out of here.

MICKY:
Hey, what’s going on?

OFFICER:
Move it! Out!

PETER:
Oh, hello, officer, certainly glad to see you.

OFFICER:
Come on. All of you. Move it.

PETER:
Officer, we were only just trying to look—

OFFICER:
Don’t you try it. Just out. Outta there!

PETER:
Sir, we—

OFFICER:
Shut up! Okay, weirdoes. Just what were you doing in there? And this better be straight. You. Fuzzy Wuzzy!

MICKY:
Uh, in the black thing, you meant, right?

OFFICER:
That’s right.

MICKY:
Yeah, what we were doing in there.

OFFICER:
Yeah. Yeah.

MICKY:
Well, first, uh, first, it was—we were in a factory.

OFFICER:
Oh.

PETER:
And then there was a commercial thing.

MIKE:
No. No, no, no, it was a vacuum cleaner.

MICKY:
Yeah!

PETER:
A vacuum cleaner!

MICKY:
A vacuum cleaner, right!

OFFICER:
Okay, boys. Let’s go downtown.

PETER:
But sir, we were just looking for David Jones.

OFFICER:
David Jones?

EXT. COLUMBIA STUDIOS

OFFICER:
Who’s David Jones?

PETER:
Thanks, guys!

MIKE:
I’ll tell you what, man. That cop musta thought we were totally crazy.

PETER:
He laid a hand on me!

DAVY:
Will you excuse me a minute, Mike?

MIKE:
Au contraire.

INT. BATHROOM

DAVY:
Au contraire? Is that what he said? He’s crazy. They’re all crazy. Better not mess with me though! Come on. Come on. Put ’em up. Come on. Heh! They’re crazy. Heh.

PETER:
[whistles] Mm. Talk about police brutality. Hi, mate. What’s happening? You alright?

DAVY:
Peter, don’t!

PETER:
I get it. The old mirror routine, right? Well, let me tell you one thing, son: nobody ever lends money to a man with a sense of humor.

EXT. JUNGLE

MICKY:
The Lancashire Midget Greenie! Aah!

INT. DUNGEON

MIKE:
Now, here’s my plan.

INT. BATHROOM

OFFICER:
Now, for the last time, where is, uh, what’s his name? The greenie.

PETER:
David Jones, sir.

OFFICER:
Yeah, Jones.

MICKY:
We told you a hundred times, good officer, sir. Uh, we last saw him inside the john. Uh, comfort room.

OFFICER:
Alright, I believe you. But if I get any more trouble outta you, that’s it for everybody.

PETER:
Sir, what about Davy?

OFFICER:
We’ll find him. Don’t worry. Now out!

[The Monkees leave.]

OFFICER:
Victor Mature!

INT. THE PAD - DOWNSTAIRS BEDROOM

MIKE:
Hey, how’s about the door?

MICKY:
Huh?

MIKE:
Th-th-the door!

PETER:
Oh, I’ll get it. I’m sorry.

MIKE:
Well, I’m happy to bring it to your attention.

INT. THE PAD

MESSENGER:
Oh dear. I got a wire for a Monkee.

PETER:
Thank you.

MESSENGER:
It was, it’s nothing.

PETER:
Oh, I wouldn’t say that. We all have loved ones, you know.

MIKE:
Peter?

INT. GOTHIC HALLWAY

VICTOR (V.O.):
Ha ha ha!

INT. THE PAD

MIKE:
Stop! Stop? What is this, “stop”? Hey Mick?—Alright now, come on, what are you guys doing? Mick? Now look, man, this isn’t funny. Okay, you think they call us plastic now, babe, but you wait ’til I get through telling them how we do it. Huh? Okay, Micky. Man, this telegram is as much for you as it was for me. Ah, come on, will you man—hu!

INT. PARTY

DAVY, MICKY, PETER:
♪ Happy birthday to you ♪
♪ Happy birthday to you ♪
♪ Happy birthday, dear Mike ♪
♪ Happy birthday to you ♪

“Long Title: Do I Have To Do This All Over Again?”

PETER:
Oh, Mike, you son of a gun. A millionaire at twenty-five.

MIKE:
Ask me, how does it feel.

MICKY:
Huh?

MIKE:
I said, ask me, how does it feel.

MICKY:
How does it feel?

MIKE:
I’ll tell ya how it feels. I don’t like it, that’s how it feels. I don’t like surprises. I don’t like these people jumping out and saying… I don’t even wanna hear what you’re saying! ’Cause you know what you’re saying to me? You’re saying “happy birthday” and you’re jumping out of the wall, and it’s scaring me to death, and it’s some kind of a big joke, and I’m supposed to be happy about that. “Oh, come on, Mike, be a good sport”. Well, who needs it?! Who needs surprises and pajamas? You want me to come to a party, you don’t kidnap me, you send me an invitation. Besides, I may have been happier where I was: sleeping. Happy birthday. Ha! And I’ll tell you something else too. The same thing goes for Christmas!

CROWD:
[gasps]

MAN:
Oh, now, wait a minute, that’s…

MIKE:
Well, how ’bout them apples?

SCREAMING WOMAN:
AAAAAAHAH!

CROWD:
Mike! Atta boy, Mike! Tell ’em, Mike, tell ’em!

LORD HIGH ’n’ LOW:
Atta boy, Mike. That a boy. Atta boy, Mike. Atta boy, Mike. Atta boy, Mike. Atta boy, Mike. Boy. Boy! Fiebada! Bada! Baaa! Baba boy Mike. Boy! Boy bada! Boy! Baa! Boy! Baa! Fiedada! Bada boy Mike…

DAVY, MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
[laughing]

EXT. COLUMBIA RANCH WESTERN STREET

LORD HIGH ’n’ LOW:
Boys, don’t never, but never, make fun of no cripples.

EXT. STREET

MAN WITH WHITE SHIRT:
I do believe it’s wrong. Definitely.

REPORTER:
What is?

MAN WITH WHITE SHIRT:
Standing around and laughing at someone. Infringing on people’s rights.

WOMAN WITH GLASSES:
They laugh at you, or they jump out of cars, they rob you.

MAN WITH HAT:
Somebody come up and giggle at ya, that’s a violation of your civil rights.

MAN WITH BEARD:
Skunk bait. That’s what the world is full of. That’s what it’s based on. That’s what this economy is based on.

MAN WITH SHORT HAIR:
Are you telling me that you don’t see the connection between government and laughing at people?

WOMAN WITH CURLY HAIR:
Listen, somewhere they gotta hang them.

MAN WITH CURLY HAIR:
I would take my belt off and I would wham!

WOMAN WITH WHITE SHIRT:
He backtalks me, and I slap him across the face.

MAN WITH STRIPED SHIRT:
I think they should be with fish. And they, that way, they could only prey on fish.

MAN WITH PLAID SHIRT:
Possibly fines.

MAN WITH WHITE SHIRT:
Exile.

WOMAN WITH CURLY HAIR:
Mental institution.

WOMAN WITH WHITE SHIRT:
Correction placement.

WOMAN WITH GLASSES:
I’d use a baseball bat on ’em.

MAN WITH CURLY HAIR:
A good whap on the seat!

MAN WITH STRIPED SHIRT:
They might even jeopardize the fish.

MAN WITH BEARD:
Dog.

MAN WITH STRIPED SHIRT:
Not halibut.

MAN WITH WHITE SHIRT:
Contamination.

WOMAN WITH GLASSES:
The nuthouse.

MAN WITH WHITE SHIRT:
Alcatraz.

MAN WITH PLAID SHIRT:
Jail.

EXT. COLUMBIA RANCH WESTERN STREET

LORD HIGH ’n’ LOW:
Pfffffft.

INT. DUNGEON

VOICE (V.O.):
Guilty… guilty… guilty… guilty… guilty… guilty… guilty…

INT. SAUNA

SWAMI:
We were speaking of belief. Beliefs and conditioning. All belief possibly could be said to be the result of some conditioning. Thus, the study of history is simply the study of one system of beliefs deposing another. And so on, and so on, and so on. A psychologically tested belief of our time is that the central nervous system, which feeds its impulses directly to the brain—the conscious and subconscious—is unable to discern between the real and the vividly imagined experience. If there is a difference, and most of us believe there is. Am I being clear? For to examine these concepts requires tremendous energy and discipline. To allow the unknown to occur and to occur requires clarity. And where there is clarity, there is no choice, and where there is choice, there is misery. But then why should anyone listen to me? Why should I speak? Since I know nothing. Ha-ha ha-ha ha.

EXTRA:
How’s about some more steam?

PETER:
Sir? Sir? Sir?

EXT. COLUMBIA STUDIOS

JUMPER:
Aaaah! Ohh! Ahh!

PETER:
Hey. Excuse me.

JUMPER:
Ohh! Oh! …

PETER:
Hey guys? Guys? Hey guys? Mike? Hey Micky? Hey—hey guys? Hey Mike? Hey, hey Mick? Mike? Hey Mike? Hey Mick?

JUMPER:
I’m gonna do it! I’m gonna do it! Ahh!

PETER:
Listen a minute. I got the an—

MICKY:
Hold it a minute. I say she won’t.

MIKE:
Oh, sure she will, man. Ten dollars says she will.

MICKY:
Ten dollars, huh?

JUMPER:
I’m gonna do it!

PETER:
Hey Mike. Listen, man. I got the—

MIKE:
Peter, don’t be rude.

PETER:
Hey Micky, listen. I got the answer.

MICKY:
Sh!

PETER:
Well, where’s Davy?

JUMPER:
I swear I’m gonna do it.

PETER:
Never mind, I know anyway.

JUMPER:
I’m gonna do it.

MIKE:
What do you suppose he meant by that?

INT. BATHROOM

PETER:
Hey Davy. Listen, man, I—Davy, I came here to t-tell you—it’s alright, Davy. That there’s nothing wrong.

DAVY:
Nothing wrong, huh?

PETER:
That’s right. I came here to tell you, man, that everything—

DAVY:
You know what I saw in there?

PETER:
Yes.

DAVY:
An eye, man. An eye, this big, blood red. It was as clear as the nose on your face. It was looking at me.

PETER:
Peace, David, I know.

DAVY:
You tell me nothing’s wrong, huh?

PETER:
That’s right, David—

DAVY:
Something’s wrong with you, man. You’ve got a sheet on. You look weird.

PETER:
Oh.

DAVY:
I’ve got to find out what’s going on here.

PETER:
Who’s to say what’s normal, man?

DAVY:
I’m telling you, there was an eye in there.

PETER:
I know.

EXT. COLUMBIA STUDIOS

PETER:
I came here to tell you about it.

MICKY:
Three, four, fix, six, seven—

PETER:
Oh, sorry, man.

MIKE:
Hey, wst. Here.

PETER:
Huh?

MICKY:
Eight, nine, ten.

MIKE:
Thanks, babe.

PETER:
Hey guys. Hey guys?

DAVY:
I’ll see you later, okay?

PETER:
Hey guys? Hey, fellas! Wait a minute. Listen to me a minute. Fellas!

INT. FACTORY

PETER:
Hey, guys!

INSPECTOR SHRINK:
This way, gentlemen.

PETER:
Hey guys? You’ve got to listen to me, guys, or you’ll end up back in the box!

INT. BLACK BOX

MICKY:
Hey.

DAVY:
Hey!

MICKY:
The door’s shut.

DAVY:
Hey, what is this?

MIKE:
Hey, fella.

DAVY:
There’s no way out.

MICKY:
There’s no handle on this side of the door.

MIKE:
Hey.

DAVY:
Hey, buddy!

MIKE:
These walls are solid steel, man.

DAVY:
Hey, buddy, you better open this door.

MICKY:
Hey. Hey open up! Hey, open this door, let us out!

MIKE:
Let us out! Hey!

MICKY:
What are you—

DAVY:
Oh, hey! You better—

MIKE:
Peter, what are you doing?

DAVY:
Hey, Peter, what’s with this room?

MICKY:
Yeah. What were you yelling outside? I couldn’t hear you, all the noise.

PETER:
Mm, but you listen now. Now that it’s too late.

MICKY:
Heh, come on, Peter.

PETER:
Come on, Peter. And before it was “shut up, Peter”, and from you, “don’t be rude, Peter”.

MIKE:
Now look, Peter, if you know how to get out of this box, man, you sure better tell me—

DAVY:
Just cool it, Mike, will you? Just cool it.

MIKE:
Yeah, well—

DAVY:
Let him do it in his own time.

MIKE:
Oh.

PETER:
Thank you, David.

DAVY:
Look, just take your time, Peter, man. I’m with you all the way down the line. You hear that? Right down the line.

PETER:
Perhaps you’d like to sit down. We were talking with the master regarding the nature of conceptual reality. Psychologically speaking, the human mind or brain or whatever is almost incapable of distinguishing between the real and the vividly imagined experience. Sound and film, of music and radio. Even these manipulated experiences are received more or less directly and uninterpreted by the mind. They are cataloged and recorded and either acted upon directly or stored in the memory or both. Now, this process, unless we pay it tremendous attention, begins to separate us from the reality of the now. Am I being clear? For we must allow the reality of the now to just happen as it happens. Observe and act with clarity. For where there is clarity, there is no choice, and where there is choice, there is misery. But then, why should I speak? Since I know nothing.

DAVY:
Nothing? You know nothing?

PETER:
That’s right.

DAVY:
You mean to tell me we’ve been sitting here listening to you, and you know nothing?

MIKE:
Well, take it easy, Davy—

DAVY:
Easy?! What you mean, take it easy? Now, we’re stuck in a room. We’re stuck in this big black box. Now, you’re telling me to take it easy, and he’s saying he don’t know nothing. Now what is this?

PETER:
Don’t you see, David? It doesn’t matter whether we’re in the box or not.

DAVY:
It’s not important, huh? Well, let me tell you something, it’s important to me. I’ll show you how to get out of this box. You want to get out of this box? This is how you get out.

EXT. COLUMBIA RANCH WESTERN STREET

LORD HIGH ’n’ LOW:
Where you boys heading?

DAVY:
We’re just passing through.

LORD HIGH ’n’ LOW:
Ah, just passing through. You look like you’re lost to me. Don’t they, fellas?

PETER:
Davy, listen, you need to—

MIKE:
Davy, this might be an awful good idea—

DAVY:
We don’t want any trouble.

LORD HIGH ’n’ LOW:
Well, I’m telling you, unless I don’t know what goes on up and down this here block, and I do, you’re in for plenty of trouble. Ain’t that right, boys?

BOYS:
Yeah.

DAVY:
Prove it.

PETER:
Where’d he get the cannon?

VICTOR:
Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Ho!

INT. BLACK BOX

MICKY:
What is this?

MIKE:
This isn’t funny, man.

PETER:
I can’t see.

MICKY:
Hey, open up! Come on!

MIKE:
It’s stopped. It’s stopped. It’s stopped.

EXT. PALM SPRINGS DESERT

BLACK SHEIK:
Ya-ya ya-ya ya-ya! Ya-ya ya-ya ya-ya!

SHEIKS:
Coca-Cola! Coca-Cola!

VICTOR:
Ha ha!

INT. CANTEEN

ACE:
Out! Out!

INT. SAUNA

SWAMI:
Well, my son. What is it you have learned?

INT. VICTOR’S ROOM

RITA HAYWORTH [on TV]:
Make hay while the sun shines.

MICKY [on TV]:
This box, it right now, uh, composes our universe, but—

MAN [on TV]:
This is a flight attack jet aircraft whose primary mission is the delivery of, uh, bombs and rockets against ground targets. Basically, that’s it.

BLONDE PLAYTEX WOMAN [on TV]:
Well, it’s not my dress. It’s my Playtex Cross-Your-Heart Bra.

BRUNETTE PLAYTEX WOMAN [on TV]:
Oh, how quaint!

MICKY [on TV]:
Our universes only start from the inside of our head and go out in all different directions, for any, in any direction to infinity.

ROSA REY [on TV]:
You have a strange language, little one.

RITA HAYWORTH [on TV]:
Me?

LORD HIGH ’n’ LOW [on TV]:
Mother! I’m coming!

RITA HAYWORTH [on TV]:
I think I’m gonna die from it.

EXT. COLUMBIA RANCH WESTERN STREET

LORD HIGH ’n’ LOW:
Stop him running!

EXT. PALM SPRINGS DESERT

VICTOR:
Ha ha ha ha!

INT. VICTOR’S ROOM

VICTOR:
[yawns]

EXT. PALM SPRINGS DESERT

VICTOR:
Ooh! Oh!

EXT. GERALD DESMOND BRIDGE

MAYOR:
Ladies and gentlemen, I hereby dedicate this magnificent marvel of modern architecture, one of the largest suspended arch bridges in the world, to the people of the great—

“Porpoise Song (Theme From ‘Head’)”