“Success Story” Script

Act One

INT. THE PAD

PETER:
Why am I the dummy? The dummy should be the dummy.

DAVY:
They’re his cards; don’t antagonize him.

MICKY:
What do you have to say about that, Mr. Schneider?

MR. SCHNEIDER:
It’s a shame to waste youth on children.

MESSENGER:
Alright, which one of these bums gets this telegram?

MIKE:
Oh ho ho. Fellas, I’d like you to meet the general.

MICKY:
The general!

MESSENGER:
I ain’t no general.

MICKY:
At ease.

MESSENGER:
What’s the matter? Doesn’t he say nothing?

MIKE:
No, that’s Mr. Schneider; he’s our advisor.

MESSENGER:
Which one of you guys is Davy Jones?

DAVY, MICKY, PETER:
I am.

MESSENGER:
I got a wire collect.

DAVY, MICKY, PETER:
He is.

DAVY:
I’ll take it.

MESSENGER:
Ah-ah! A buck eighty.

MIKE:
Well, Mr. Schneider will pay for it, because he’s the only one that’s, uh, working.

MESSENGER:
Well, what do you say?

DAVY:
Oh no! My grandfather! He’s arriving from England at six o’clock tonight.

MIKE:
Why so down? I thought you said he was a groovy guy.

DAVY:
He is. He is the greatest in the world, but that’s why I don’t wanna see him.

MICKY:
Well, that makes sense.

DAVY:
You don’t understand. I wrote him. I told him that—

MIKE:
You told him what?

EXT. AIRPORT

GRANDFATHER:
He wrote me that he’s a big star now. Really quite wealthy. Of course, you understand that I didn’t want him to go to America, but, uh, things seemed to have worked out very well for him. Ha ha. Well, George, I’ll see you when I get back, eh? Ta-ta.

INT. THE PAD

MIKE:
You didn’t tell him that.

DAVY:
What are we gonna do?

MICKY:
What do you mean what we are gonna do? It’s your problem.

DAVY:
If he finds out I’m not a success, he’s gonna take me back to England; I’ll have to leave the group.

MICKY:
That’s what I said: what are we gonna do?

MESSENGER:
Schneider, Schneider, give me the money will you? A buck eighty!

MIKE:
You think we got troubles.

MESSENGER:
Schneider, come on, can’t you hear? Schneider, I need a buck eighty, a buck eighty, a buck eighty.

“(Theme From) The Monkees”

Act Two

EXT. THE PAD

MIKE:
Yeah, but, man, why did you have to tell him you were rich?

DAVY:
You see, success is very important to him. He practically raised me. He sent me to school and all that. When he finds out I haven’t made it, it’s gonna break his heart. What am I gonna do?

MICKY:
Man, I don’t know. We can’t make you a millionaire.

MIKE:
No, but we could sure make you look like one.

EXT. STREET

ROLLS OWNER:
Young man!

MICKY:
Sir, I’ve just been examining your car. Do you drive it often?

ROLLS OWNER:
Don’t drive it, just polish it.

MICKY:
Oh, sir, a Rolls is like a champion athlete; you’ve got to keep it in shape!

ROLLS OWNER:
My car’s in perfect condition!

MICKY:
Oh, really?

ROLLS OWNER:
Well, maybe he was right. I better get someone to exercise her.

MICKY:
Monkee car conditioners, at your service.

EXT. TONY’S RESTAURANT

RESTAURANT OWNER:
You make a good spaghetti, eh?

MIKE:
Oh, man, you wouldn’t believe the kind of spaghetti I make.

RESTAURANT OWNER:
Good, good. Come on, come on. Ha ha ha ha.

EXT. TONY’S RESTAURANT

RESTAURANT OWNER:
I thought you said you could make spaghetti!

MIKE:
Well, I didn’t say that; I just said that, uh, you wouldn’t believe it.

RESTAURANT OWNER:
???

INT. THE PAD

MESSENGER:
Come on, Schneider, pay up. Schneider. He still owes me a buck eighty.

MICKY:
Look, you want to get your money back? I’ll show you how. You be me, I’ll be you, right? We’ll change clothes.

INT. THE PAD

MICKY:
Okay, watch this. Okay, Schneider, out with the dough! Here you are, my good man. Keep the change.

EXT. STREET

ICE CREAM MAN:
Ice cream. Get your ice cream right here. Get… you want vanilla? You want chocolate? Pistachio? How ’bout Tutti Frutti? Hey, that’s all I got, unless you want the shirt off my back. Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, get your ice cream right here.

INT. THE PAD

DAVY:
Inspection time! Micky, as my chauffeur, how would you help a lady into the backseat of a car?

MICKY:
As quick as I can! Ha ha ha.

DAVY:
Mike, as my personal chef, what will be your three main dishes?

MIKE:
Well, uh, w-we’ll start off with a vicky, vichy swats, and we’ll going to, uh, um, shat, uh, chat-oh bree-und, and then we go into a chocolate mouse.

DAVY:
But you can’t cook those dishes.

MIKE:
Yeah, I know; I can’t say ’em either.

DAVY:
Peter, as my devoted houseboy, what will be your main function?

PETER:
I am born to serve my master and live only to perform his bidding.

DAVY:
Right. Now, get me my comb.

PETER:
Get it yourself.

EXT. AIRPORT

DAVY:
Dolenz, prepare the car.

MICKY:
Yes, sir.

GRANDFATHER:
Well, you look very well, I must say. You seem to be thriving out here in the colony.

DAVY:
Yes, I have been rather fortunate.

MIKE:
Hey, are you Davy Jones?

DAVY:
Yes. My public.

MIKE:
Can I have your autograph?

DAVY:
Yes, you can.

MIKE:
Mr. Jones, I just want to tell you that my family sleeps a little better every night knowing that you are out there singing. You’re a great person.

DAVY:
Thank you.

MIKE:
It’s wonderful to have you—

DAVY:
Thank you.

MIKE:
Peter’s next.

DAVY:
Okay.

MIKE:
Peter!

DAVY:
Go on.

PETER:
Hold it, Mr. Jones. Smile, please. Thank you.

OLD WOMAN:
Notice how people keep asking that boy for his autograph and taking pictures? He must be a celebrity!

PETER:
Mike’s coming back in another disguise.

DAVY:
Okay.

OLD WOMAN:
Come on! Excuse me, I’m one of your biggest fans. Sign this, whoever you are.

DAVY:
You look great.

OLD WOMAN:
You don’t look so bad yourself.

DAVY:
Fantastic.

OLD WOMAN:
Watch your hand, sonny.

DAVY:
What a performance!

OLD WOMAN:
Look, I don’t want a review, just an autograph.

DAVY:
You’re too much.

OLD WOMAN:
Oh!

GRANDFATHER:
Well, Davy, she’s not a young lady.

OLD WOMAN:
You’re no chicken yourself, Charlie!

MIKE:
Can I have your, can I have your auto-autograph, Mr. J—uh, Davy?

DAVY:
Sir, the car’s waiting.

INT. THE PAD

PETER:
Dinner is served.

DAVY:
Take care of the bags, Dolenz.

MICKY:
Yes, sir.

GRANDFATHER:
Oh, this looks very nice.

DAVY:
Yes, my staff is rather good. Would you like to sit down?

GRANDFATHER:
Thanks very much. Oh, that looks very good.

MIKE:
Oh, uh, merci, señor. Listen, don’t eat—

DAVY:
Uh, just serve it, my good man. I’m starved. That will be all. Thank you very much.

GRANDFATHER:
Mmm. My, that’s delicious.

PETER:
We could only afford one serving; yours is rubber.

DAVY:
But I’ll starve! Is the fruit rubber?

PETER:
No. It’s plastic.

INT. THE PAD

GRANDFATHER:
Well, that was a wonderful meal.

DAVY:
I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse!

MIKE:
Well, why didn’t you say so?

INT. THE PAD

GRANDFATHER:
Well, I must say, it’s a pleasure to see you so affluent. With a chef, chauffeur, and houseboy and a quiet beach side home.

DAVY:
Well, if money can’t buy you peace and privacy, what good is it?

NEIGHBOR:
Hi, Davy! I just came over to borrow some hot dogs. Hi, fellas.

DAVY:
Of course, I wouldn’t want too much privacy.

NEIGHBOR:
Boy, your cupboard is even barer than mine.

GRANDFATHER:
Davy—

MESSENGER:
Hey, Goldilocks. Give me my suit!

GRANDFATHER:
Who’s this?

DAVY:
Uh, it’s just some nut trying to start a nudist colony.

PETER:
Did someone knock, sir?

DAVY:
Forget it.

PETER:
Gotta be polite.

ROLLS OWNER:
I’ve come about my Rolls.

PETER:
Uh, the bakery’s next door.

ROLLS OWNER:
I want my Rolls! I want my Rolls!

NEIGHBOR:
The rolls are rubber.

ROLLS OWNER:
You’ve had my car long enough. ??? You can’t have that car.

MICKY:
I understand why you want your car. Yes, well, I agree with you.

ROLLS OWNER:
I want that car fixed, and I want to get it in my garage. ??? You get that car to me.

MICKY:
I know, long enough. Yes. Well. I’ll get the car. As soon as I possibly get the car.

ROLLS OWNER:
I want that car, and I want to get it—

GRANDFATHER:
What’s going on here?

RESTAURANT OWNER:
Hey, you! Hey, hey, just because you make a bad spaghetti, don’t mean-a you keep-a the uniform! Come on, take off. Hey!

GRANDFATHER:
I thought you said he was your private chef.

DAVY:
Uh, well, well, I stole him from a fine Italian restaurant.

ICE CREAM MAN:
Hey, you, I want my jacket back. I told you, will you give me my jacket, please? I want my jacket.

MESSENGER:
Hey, come on! Somebody’s gotta sign for this!

NEIGHBOR:
Well, it’s better than nothing.

MESSENGER:
Somebody’s gotta sign. Hey, you! You gonna sign for this wire?

DAVY:
Oh!

MESSENGER:
Somebody’s gotta sign for this wire.

DAVY:
He’s just a pushy electrician.

GRANDFATHER:
I thought you said he was a nudist.

ROLLS OWNER:
You know anything about my car?

DAVY:
No, he doesn’t know anything about anything. Come on, I’ll show you my garage.

GRANDFATHER:
What’s so special about your garage?

ROLLS OWNER:
Listen to me, young fella. You may be a minor, but I’ll find your parent or guardian and sue him!

GRANDFATHER:
Excuse me.

ROLLS OWNER:
Later! I’ll find the responsible adult and drag him into court.

GRANDFATHER:
Will you excuse me?

ROLLS OWNER:
Get away from me, old man! You’re in big trouble!

GRANDFATHER:
I’m the boy’s guardian!

ROLLS OWNER:
You’re in big trouble!

ICE CREAM MAN, RESTAURANT OWNER:
Guardian?

ICE CREAM MAN, RESTAURANT OWNER, ROLLS OWNER:
[yelling]

GRANDFATHER:
Quiet! Now, you’ll all be taken care of. Now, are there any other bills you haven’t paid?

DAVY:
No, sir.

ICE CREAM MAN, RESTAURANT OWNER, ROLLS OWNER:
[yelling]

GRANDFATHER:
Everybody, please be quiet!

DAVY:
Uh, except maybe that one.

GRANDFATHER:
You have grossly deceived me, young man. I’m going back to England, and I’m taking you with me.

Act Three

EXT. THE PAD

GRANDFATHER:
You should have been honest with me. I thought we knew each other better.

DAVY:
You’re right, and I’m sorry.

GRANDFATHER:
Aye. Well, uh, hadn’t you better go and get dressed? I mean, the plane leaves in about two hours.

DAVY:
Alright, I’m just going for a walk on the beach.

GRANDFATHER:
Aye.

MIKE:
You wanna know something? Davy did this whole thing for you. I mean, he, he just wanted you to be proud of him. He, he wants you to think he was a success.

GRANDFATHER:
Davy needs a family. He can’t just go on frittering his life away.

MIKE:
Oh, man, be honest, it’s you. You’re not thinking of Davy at all. You want him back because you miss him or… you want him back because you need him.

GRANDFATHER:
No, that’s not true. I’ve, I’ve a duty to guide him.

MIKE:
Sure.

“I Wanna Be Free”

INT. THE PAD

DAVY:
Well, fellas, the cab’s waiting. I have to go. I hate goodbyes.

MICKY:
Okay. Welcome to America, Davy.

DAVY:
Goodbye, Mike.

MIKE:
Um, be good.

PETER:
That’s in case he changes his mind on the plane.

GRANDFATHER:
Are you ready, Davy?

DAVY:
Right. Sure. It’s gonna be good to see England again. Goodbye, fellas.

EXT. AIRPORT

MAN (V.O.):
Flight number twelve is now boarding.

GRANDFATHER:
What’s the matter, Davy?

DAVY:
Nothing. I’ll meet you on the plane.

EXT. THE PAD

MICKY:
Ah, he’ll be okay.

MIKE:
Sure, he will.

PETER:
He’ll probably be better off without us.

MIKE:
Oh, look, this is ridiculous. What time does the plane leave?

MICKY:
Less than an hour.

MIKE:
Well, well… he just may never make that plane!

EXT. AIRPORT

PETER:
Take your bags, sir?

GRANDFATHER:
Oh, aye, aye. Just a minute. Shouldn’t they go in there? You’re going the wrong way. They should go in there.

PETER:
What, what? They’re going—yeah, yeah, right. Okay, here I go.

INT. AIRPORT

MICKY:
Is this your luggage, sir?

GRANDFATHER:
Aye.

MICKY:
Oh, you seem to be ten pounds underweight.

GRANDFATHER:
Oh, is underweight a problem?

MICKY:
Oh my, yes, yes. Eat lots of starchy food, potatoes, chocolate milk, that sort of thing.

GRANDFATHER:
Well, you’ve forgotten this bag.

MICKY:
Oh, you seem to be ten pounds overweight. Don’t worry. I’ll fix that. Yes, here we are. Take care of that right away for you, sir. There, you see.

GRANDFATHER:
But I need all those things!

MICKY:
Oh, dear me! Of course, how stupid of me! Here, take those, one moment here. Put these over here. Let’s dump those. Now you take those on the plane, and don’t let the stewardess see you, ha ha.

MAN (V.O.):
Passengers to London airport. Board on gate nine, now boarding.

GRANDFATHER:
Hey, I’d better go.

MICKY:
Oh, one moment, sir! You haven’t selected your seat. Yes, sir, do you have any preferences?

GRANDFATHER:
No, no. Anywhere!

MICKY:
Well, I’ll give you ten-A; that’s over the wing, ha ha.

GRANDFATHER:
Fine.

MICKY:
Of course, a lot of people would rather sit inside the plane. Ah ha ha!

GRANDFATHER:
Well, well, I—what, what gate do I go to?

MICKY:
Oh, gate, of course, sir. Yes. Your ticket’s in here. That’ll be gate twelve at four o’clock, at, uh, leaving at gate three. That’s—oh, my mistake, sir. Sorry, it’s gate four. No, dear me, it’s gate nine at—a moment, here. It’s gate four at six o’clock on ??? twelve! No, that’s going to Paris; you don’t want to go to Paris, of course not. Yes, ??? No, you want to go to ??? no, you want ??? yes, ??? four seventeen at four o’clock at something, no, no, ??? it’s gate six—

GRANDFATHER:
Ahh! A-ha! That answers my question nicely. Thanks very much.

MICKY:
No. Sir, your ticket! Your ticket, sir! Get to four at six o’clock.

PETER:
Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly! If you get too close to the sun, your wings’ll melt.

GRANDFATHER:
Ahh!

MICKY:
Your ticket, sir. Sir, your ticket, your ticket!

INT. AIRPORT

MIKE:
Hi, you late for your plane, sir?

GRANDFATHER:
Aye, I am.

MIKE:
Oh, where you going?

GRANDFATHER:
London, England.

MIKE:
Fine, we’ll take the freeway.

PETER:
Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly!

INT. AIRPORT

PETER:
Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly!

INT. AIRPORT

PETER:
Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly!

EXT. AIRPORT

PETER:
Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly! Don’t fly!

GRANDFATHER:
Look out where you’re going, young man!

EXT. AIRPORT

DAVY:
Where’ve you been? I thought you’d miss the plane.

GRANDFATHER:
Ah, you men, step over here, will you? Oh, uh, I’ll not miss the plane, Davy, but you will. Eh, you lads have set the aircraft industry back a generation.

MICKY:
The disguises didn’t work, huh?

GRANDFATHER:
Davy, you’ve got three loyal friends here; I know I can leave you safely in their hands.

DAVY:
You’re going to have a long and lonely trip back.

GRANDFATHER:
Oh, not necessarily. That’s my grandson, and that’s his staff. He’s quite a star, you know. Oh, he’s doing very well. Yes. He drives a Rolls. Ha ha. Shall we go now?

Tag

EXT. PARK

MIKE:
Well, I sure am glad your grandfather got away okay.

PETER:
My grandfather? I thought it was your grandfather.

MICKY:
My grandfather? I thought it was Davy’s grandfather.

DAVY:
He was my grandfather—

MICKY:
Oh.

DAVY:
—and he’s a groovy guy.

MICKY:
You know after doing all those things to try to impress him, the one thing we should have done was played for him.

“Sweet Young Thing”

INT. SET

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Right, hey, Davy, come on and sit down for a sec.

MIKE:
What were you doing running across the stage?

DAVY:
Well, I thought, uh, well, I just, to tell you the truth… I went to the bathroom.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Davy?

DAVY:
What?

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Wait a minute, fellas. There’s a good chance that this show may be shown in England.

DAVY:
Yeah?

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Yeah.

DAVY:
Whe-when? Since when?

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
I don’t know when it’ll be shown, but you know, uh, can you—

PETER:
Nineteen seventy-three.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Is there—

DAVY:
Well, uh, in my opinion, yeah, uh, my father would love that.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
What does he do?

DAVY:
Um, he’s a layabout.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
What do you mean, he’s a layabout?

DAVY:
He lives off my money. No, no. Uh, no, I just, I just, um. He doesn’t do anything. He’s, he’s been very ill, you know, sick.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
A few weeks ago, uh, when we, uh, just before we started the shoot, you went back home, right?

DAVY:
Yeah, I went to—

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Well, tell me what that was like, you know, seeing your family and all.

DAVY:
Oh, man, tha-that was the funniest. You couldn’t believe it. I went home, and my sister and her boyfriend were waiting for me at the airport.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Yeah.

DAVY:
And I can’t—

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Where’s this? Where is this?

DAVY:
In Manchester.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Yeah.

DAVY:
And I came down to the, uh, the, you know, the ramp from the plane, and my hair was on my shoulders.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Right.

DAVY:
You think it’s long now?

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Right.

DAVY:
It was on my shoulders.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Right.

DAVY:
And I could hear my sister talking, and she says, uh, “That’s him. No. That’s, that’s a girl. No. That’s a girl, you see.” And I have a baby face, so they thought it was a girl. I came up, and she says pfff. Lis-listen to Dolenz kid over there. Anyway.

MICKY:
I’ll do my impression of Davy Jones. Ga ga, goo goo.

DAVY:
On the plane, they was saying, “After you, miss”.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Right, and you were kicking them.

DAVY:
No, I was saying, “Thank you, very much, sir”.

PETER:
Hoo!

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Did you see your, your, your father at all?

DAVY:
I went home to the house with my sister.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Yeah.

DAVY:
And they went in first.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Right.

DAVY:
And I knocked on the door.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Right.

DAVY:
And he says, “Hello?” I said, “Yeah, David. I’ve come from America.” He said, “You’re not my son.”

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Ha ha ha ha.

DAVY:
I says, “What? I came three thousand miles.” He says, “Go and get your hair cut.” I says, “Come on, you must be joking.” So I went ’round to get my hair cut, and I had it short, a little shorter than it is now. He sent me back again to get it cut before he let me in the house, so I fixed him this time. I bought him a house; now he can’t turn me away.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Right. You put it in your name or his name?

DAVY:
My name.

BOB RAFELSON (O.S.):
Good. That’s the way to get even. Hey, Micky?

MICKY:
That’s another little funny episode in the life of Davy Jones. Tune in next week, ladies and gentlemen, when we’re another minute short.