“Son of a Gypsy” Script

INT. RANTHA MANSION - HALLWAY

MARIA:
Relax, my sons; we are sure to be chosen to play at Madame Rantha’s affair.

MICKY:
Man, I sure hope we get this booking.

PETER:
What if we don’t get the gig?

MIKE:
Oh, relax, will ya? Everybody likes rock and roll.

PETER:
Yeah.

MICKY:
Yeah.

MARIA:
Once you are at party, my grubchicks, then you will steal the priceless Maltese Vulture.

MARCO:
But suppose we are not hired, mama?

MARIA:
Relax, Marco; everybody loves gypsy music.

RANTHA:
Good morning, gypsies. Good morning, Monkees. Congratulations, Monkees! I’ve decided that you are to play at my ball.

MICKY:
Oh, great, groovy.

PETER:
We’d love to do it.

RANTHA:
I’ll see you here at eight on Saturday night.

MICKY:
Saturday night, eight o’clock. Groovy.

PETER:
Right.

RANTHA:
Bye-bye, Monkees.

MICKY:
Thank you.

RANTHA:
Bye-bye, Gypsies. Don’t call us; we’ll call you.

MARCO:
Kill! Kill!

MARIA:
There, there, Marco. He is going through a stage.

DAVY:
Oh, I’m really glad to hear that.

MARIA:
Marco’s sullen moods only last three years.

MICKY:
Well, why does he wanna kill us?

MARIA:
Marco feels badly that we did not get the job.

MIKE:
Yeah, I can see that.

MARIA:
But we don’t want you to think that gypsies are vengeful people.

MICKY, PETER:
That’s good.

MARIA:
Don’t bite your nails, darling.

MICKY, PETER:
That’s bad.

MARIA:
Nonsense. You must give us a chance to show there are no hard feelings; you must come to our camp.

PETER:
Oh, camp! Swimming, canoeing—

DAVY:
Oh, well, we’re really, you know—

PETER:
—arts and crafts.

MARIA:
Good! You will be there at noon tomorrow, and we will show you that a gypsy knows how to laugh.

“(Theme From) The Monkees”

EXT. GYPSY CAMP

DAVY:
You know, that was a lousy idea to come out here today.

PETER:
Well, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Oh, the woods are just so beautiful.

MICKY:
Yeah, famous last words.

PETER:
Whose?

DAVY, MICKY, MIKE:
Little Red Riding Hood.

EXT. GYPSY CAMP

MARIA:
Soon. Soon. The Monkees will be here soon! And then, you know what we do, grubchicks?

MARCO:
Kill! Kill!

MARIA:
No, Marco, we don’t kill.

MARCO:
Oh. Maim?

MARIA:
Perhaps, later. But for now, we need The Monkees alive. But after they get us the Maltese Vulture, then, if you are good, grubchicks, then you can kill them. Shh. Here come our Monkee pigeons. Welcome! We are delighted you could come today. We want you to feel like one of us. Rocco, the clothes.

EXT. GYPSY CAMP

DAVY:
Groovy clothes, innit?

MARIA:
And we want each of you to have one of these good luck charms.

MARCO:
Notice, is boar tooth.

MIKE:
Oh, yeah, that’s a boar’s tooth, okay—ooh! Look—it’s a little bitty cavity.

MARCO:
Yes, but this group had twenty-seven percent fewer cavities.

DAVY:
Oh, thank you very much; I’ll keep it always. Don’t do that.

MICKY:
Gosh, huh, I’ll never give it away. I couldn’t.

PETER:
A ha ha, ah, thanks, and, and, and, and this is salt for you. It’s for good luck. You throw it over your shoulder.

MARIA:
Now my sons will show you our camp.

KIKO:
My friends!

MARIA:
Marco, one word, please. You know the plan; each one of you will knock them out, drug them, drag them, and then tie them up. But, Marco, promise me one thing: no roughhouse.

INT. GYPSY CAMP

ROCCO:
This is where my mother reads the future.

MICKY:
Oh, that’s really great, huh. Well, what does this pin stand for?

ROCCO:
That pin stands for the flow of the tide.

MICKY:
Oh. What does this one stand fo—

ROCCO:
That pin stands for holding up the chart. But I can read your future in the tea leaves.

MICKY:
Oh, well, I don’t believe that stuff.

ROCCO:
It’s true. Sit down.

MICKY:
Alright, ha ha.

ROCCO:
Drink the tea.

MICKY:
Alright. Okay, huh, what do you see, huh?

ROCCO:
I see you are growing very tired.

MICKY:
Hey, that’s pretty good. You know, you’re right.

ROCCO:
I see that you are going to fall down and be very unconscious.

MICKY:
You know, I gotta admit, man. That’s fanta—

EXT. GYPSY CAMP

MARCO:
Knife is tradition gypsy weapon. My knife give to me by great great grandfather; is historic relic.

DAVY:
Oh, really? What kind is it?

MARCO:
Switchblade.

DAVY:
Oh.

MARCO:
Marco show you how gypsy fight with knife.

DAVY:
Oh, well, you don’t really have to do that. I’m not really—

MARCO:
It’s called Handkerchief in Teeth.

DAVY:
Well, um, I don’t really—

MARCO:
Bite hard.

DAVY:
Uh!

MARCO:
First one open mouth and let go is coward.

DAVY:
I win! I’m the coward. Ha ha! Here’s the knife. Thank you very much. Handkerchief. Buh-bye. Huh, I win. Heh heh. You know, I have to go. Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!

EXT. GYPSY CAMP

KIKO:
When you think of gypsy, you think of a dancer.

PETER:
I think of Ethel Merman.

KIKO:
Tanya! Tanya and I will show you how a gypsy dances.

KIKO:
Ha! Ha ha! Ho!

PETER:
Dance, gypsies, dance!

KIKO:
Ha! Ha ha ho ha ha!

INT. GYPSY CAMP

MIKE:
Hey, uh, hey, what’s this here, Zeppo?

ZEPPO:
Oh, the gypsies originated the art of phrenology.

MIKE:
Huh?

ZEPPO:
That is the reading of bumps. From the bumps on your forehead, I can tell many things… but you have no bumps.

MIKE:
Oh, gee, I’m sorry, Zeppo.

ZEPPO:
Well, that’s alright. Now, from the bump on your forehead, I can tell many things.

EXT. GYPSY CAMP

MARIA:
Very good, grubchicks. Wonderful, Marco. Alright, Monkees, how about it?

MIKE:
I’m sorry, but we’re not gonna steal that Maltese Vulture for you.

MICKY:
No. Nope. Not gonna do it.

PETER:
Won’t do it.

DAVY:
No way. We’re not gonna do it.

MARIA:
I warn you, we are desperate people.

MICKY:
Come on, Maria.

MARCO:
Maria? How you know my mother’s name is Maria?

MICKY:
Uh, it’s on her tent.

MARCO:
Who told you to read tent?!

MARIA:
There, there, Marco.

MICKY:
Now, now, you don’t understand. We’re not thieves, Maria. Uh, mama—I mean, mom, uh.

MARIA:
Nonsense! The urge to steal is basic; we are all thieves at heart.

DAVY:
Where did she get that idea?

MIKE:
She stole it.

MARIA:
Listen, Monkees, if you do not help us willingly, a gypsy has other means of persuasion.

MICKY:
I like a man that has a few irons in the fire, ha ha.

MARIA:
Think it over, Monkees. Ha ha ha ha ha! You have five minutes.

MARCO:
Five minutes. Ha ha ha ha ha.

MICKY:
Five minutes?

DAVY:
They’re gonna torture us.

MICKY:
Oh!

DAVY:
They’re gonna use a hot iron.

MIKE:
No, they’re not.

DAVY:
They might even use the rack.

MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
The rack?!

EXT. GYPSY CAMP

DAVY:
Oh! Oh! Ah! Ooh! Ooh!

MIKE:
Ooh! Ooh! Oh!

DAVY:
Ooh, that—ah, that smarts! Ah, that smarts!

MIKE:
Ooh! Ooh!

MICKY:
Oh, Davy.

DAVY:
Ow! Ooh! Ooh!

MARIA:
He’s had enough; take him off.

DAVY:
Oh, I’m all stretched out.

MICKY:
Davy! Are you alright, Davy? You okay?

PETER:
How are you? Hey, Davy, how are you?

DAVY:
Yeah, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s okay; you can stand up now.

MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
We are standing up.

EXT. GYPSY CAMP

MIKE:
Oh, she couldn’t be serious.

MICKY:
No, of course not.

MIKE:
No.

DAVY:
They’re not gonna really torture us.

PETER:
No, relax.

DAVY, MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
Help!

MARIA:
Well, boys, do you steal the vulture or do you die?

MARCO:
Hot poker… now, mama?

KIKO:
Not that one, Marco; that’s my lamb chop!

MARCO:
Sorry, Kiko.

MARIA:
Well, vulture or poker?

MARCO:
Now, mama?

MARIA:
Now, Marco.

MARCO:
Ah!

MIKE:
Wait, no. Not that! You leave us little choice. Alright, we will steal the Maltese Vulture. How was that? That sound okay?

DAVY:
What? Oh yeah.

MICKY:
Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah, good, good.

PETER:
It was great.

MARIA:
Ah! You are now my gypsy sons!

MARCO:
Now, mama?

INT. GYPSY CAMP

MARIA:
Alright, boychicks, gather ’round. This is the floor plan of the Rantha mansion. You will be playing in the ballroom here. The vulture is kept in the wall safe in this bedroom, and two guards will be on duty in this corridor. Now, how do you get in?

MICKY:
Well, I, I think I’d probably start in over here, and go at an angle about like this over to there.

MIKE:
Well, I think that if we’re playing in the ballroom, there’s no reason just not to sneak through the library and into that corridor and right past the guards.

PETER:
Well, if there’s two guards in the thing, then you gotta go out the window, and then you come around way out the outside, and then you can sneak in over here, and take it out of the wall safe that way.

DAVY:
Now if it was me, I’d go through the dining room, through the bathroom, into the bedroom, ’round the corner to the other bedroom where the wall safe is.

DAVY, MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
???

MIKE:
Here you go.

MICKY:
Here you are, ha ha.

MIKE:
Yeah.

MICKY:
Here, Maria. It’s no Michelangelo.

MIKE:
Yeah, it’s no Charlton Heston, either.

MARIA:
Very funny.

INT. GYPSY CAMP

MIKE:
Yeah, well, uh, look, we’re as ready as we’ll ever be, so, uh—

MICKY:
Yep.

MIKE:
—I guess we’ll go now. Bye.

MICKY:
Uh, buh, where’s Peter?

MIKE:
Yeah, wh-where is Peter?

MICKY:
Where’s Peter?

MIKE:
Peter?

DAVY:
Peter?

MICKY:
Peter?

MARIA:
He is staying here.

MICKY:
Huh?

MARIA:
As hostage. If you do not deliver the vulture by midnight, we will kill him.

MIKE:
Wait, wait a minute. We’re a quartet.

MARIA:
Marco!

MICKY:
Wha—

MARIA:
Marco will go with you. He has a very good ear… for robbery. Ha ha ha! Take them away!

MARCO:
On to the robbery!

INT. RANTHA MANSION - BALLROOM

“Let’s Dance On”

MARCO:
♪ Shake, rattle your roll ♪
♪ Shake, rattle your roll ♪
♪ Six o’clock and roll ♪
♪ Rock! Rock! Hey! Da da da roll! Rock! Rocka roka rodle! Rocka! Roko! ♪

MIKE:
Marco. Ma—hey, Marco! Marco! Marco, hey, over here! Marco! Marco! Hey, over here! Hey, Marco. Ma—hey. Listen, uh, we’ll all play it together, okay? Wait for us to start too. Okay? We gotta get—we gotta get him outta here and get word to the police!

DAVY:
Uh, Marco, why don’t you go and see where the guards are stationed?

MARCO:
You no give Marco orders; Marco has orders from mama.

MICKY:
Well, wh-what are your orders?

MARCO:
She tell me to see where guards are stationed.

RANTHA:
Marvelous! Divine!

MIKE:
Oh! Are we glad to see you!

RANTHA:
Do have some hors d’oeuvres; they’re imported!

MICKY:
Hey, wait a minute. You know ??? gonna steal ??? Uh buh, uh buh—man, we still gotta get word to the cops.

DAVY:
Right.

MICKY:
Sir, this is an emergency. Don’t look startled. Just look straight ahead. Pretend we’re having a normal conversation. Good. Now, after I tell you this, I want you to walk calmly out of this place and call the police. Sir, there are thieves here that are gonna steal the Maltese Vulture.

YUGOSLAVIAN GUEST:
Yugoslavia! Groz na pull ya pool noos ya see.

MIKE:
Excuse me, excuse me.

DAVY:
Hello. Come on, put the note in the bottle. Quick, quick, quick.

MIKE:
Wait! Wait, wait.

DAVY:
Great, let’s go.

MIKE:
Let’s go.

DAVY:
What is that?

MIKE:
It’s two cents deposit.

MARCO:
Two guards outside bedroom. Must be disposed of.

MICKY:
Don’t worry, we’ll distract ’em.

DAVY:
Hey, man, if we don’t get the vulture by midnight, it’s curtains for Peter.

MARCO:
No curtains for Peter. Death for Peter.
♪ Shake, rattle your roll ♪
♪ Rock! Rock! Midnight clock! Rock! ♪

INT. RANTHA MANSION - HALLWAY

DAVY:
Hey, listen, fellas. You distract the guards, and I’ll try and get in the room.

MICKY:
Right. Alright, stick ’em up!

MIKE:
Help, help. Help. Robbery. Who is this masked man anyway? Help, help. Gun. Oh, terror, terror, burglar. Burglar, help? Help, help. Wallet, mine, his now.

DAVY:
A robbery! Look, there’s a robbery!

RANTHA MANSION GUARD:
We’re not supposed to leave our post.

DAVY:
Hey, listen, fellas. It’s no good; they won’t leave their post. You better try something else. Hey fellas, fellas! Hey fellas!

MICKY:
Oh, help! Fight! Kill! Help! Oh, blood! Help! Not again! Oh! Ow! Ooh! Ee! Ah! Oh! Oh! Ah! Oh!

DAVY:
There’s a fight going on over there.

RANTHA MANSION GUARD:
We’re not supposed to leave our post.

MICKY:
Ah! Ooh! Ah! Oh! Ow! Oh! Ow!

MIKE:
You’re through this time. The jig is up. You’re washed up.

MICKY:
Ah! Ooh!

MICKY, MIKE:
Fire! Fire! Fire!

DAVY:
Hey, fellas, look! There’s a fire! Fire, ooh!

MICKY, MIKE:
Fire! Fire! Fire? Fire.

RANTHA MANSION GUARD:
Hey you! Come on. Can’t you guys read?

MICKY:
Uh, no. Ha ha. We’re musicians.

RANTHA MANSION GUARD:
Oh. Oh, okay. Come on; we’re not supposed to leave our post.

INT. RANTHA MANSION - BEDROOM

DAVY:
Boy, it’s a good thing I came prepared. All I need now is a light. Wrong light. Ooh, that’s better.

INT. RANTHA MANSION - HALLWAY

RANTHA MANSION GUARD:
It’s okay.

INT. RANTHA MANSION - BEDROOM

“Last Train to Clarksville”

INT. RANTHA MANSION - HALLWAY

RANTHA:
Right this way, darling. I’ll show you my vulture.

MADAME RANTHA’S FRIEND:
How exciting!

RANTHA:
It’s alright.

INT. RANTHA MANSION - BEDROOM

RANTHA:
It’s just me. It’s alright. Ah!

MADAME RANTHA’S FRIEND:
Are you sure it’s safe?

RANTHA:
Oh, of course it’s safe for me to show it to you; that’s what we have guards for. Here it is, darling: my treasured Maltese Vulture.

EXT. RANTHA MANSION

MARIA:
If they don’t drop that vulture in five minutes, it’s curtains for you.

PETER:
Oh, for a minute, I thought you were gonna kill me.

INT. RANTHA MANSION - BEDROOM

MADAME RANTHA’S FRIEND:
How beautiful. How can anything so beautiful come from such an ugly bird?

RANTHA:
Oh, you’ve met my husband?

MICKY:
Thank you very much, guard, for—oh, thank you, thank you, guard. Oh, Cecil. There it is. Look at, look at the bird, Cecil. Oh! Not that bird, this bird! Oh, it’s beautiful, Madame Rantha. It’s magnificent. You know, you can hardly see the flaw.

RANTHA:
Flaw? What flaw?

MICKY:
Oh, the flaw! You can see it if you hold it up to the sun.

RANTHA:
There’s no sun; it’s midnight.

MICKY:
Oh, uh, well, you can see it if you hold it up to the midnight, heh. Midnight?!

DAVY:
Midnight?!

EXT. RANTHA MANSION

MARIA:
Midnight!

INT. RANTHA MANSION - BEDROOM

RANTHA:
Oh, no! My—

EXT. RANTHA MANSION

PETER:
Thank you.

INT. RANTHA MANSION - BEDROOM

RANTHA:
That boy! He has my vulture! You, gypsies! Grab him! Bring him in the house immediately. Oh, my vulture!

INT. RANTHA MANSION - BALLROOM

RANTHA:
Guard, guard, guard… oh, you’re the guard! This one stole the vulture and threw it at that one.

MARIA:
He’s a very tricky young man. You can tell he’s a thief; it’s written all over his face. A good thief, but a bad speller.

MIKE:
Ooh! Davy, tell ’em who we are.

DAVY:
Well, once upon a time there was this group of—ooh, ah, oof, that hurts my arm!

MICKY:
Hey, I don’t like the way that guard’s acting.

DAVY:
What are you, a talent scout or something?

RANTHA:
You gypsies are really wonderful people. I must take one of you to lunch this week.

MARIA:
Thank you, Madame.

RANTHA:
I’m really very grateful. If there’s anything you want, just take it.

MARIA:
The vulture, grubchicks!

MIKE:
The vulture! The vulture!

RANTHA:
Oh, oh! Get me my vulture! Somebody—

“I’m a Believer”

INT. RANTHA MANSION - BALLROOM

DAVY:
Well, Maria, we’re certainly glad you turned over a new leaf.

MARIA:
Yes, you boys have showed us that my boys can make a faster dollar in show business.

MARCO:
And with as little talent too.

MARIA:
And so, I bid you goodbye. You are really gypsies at heart. I love you all. You will always be my gypsies.

MIKE:
Bye Maria.

MICKY:
Bye now!

MIKE:
Bye Maria.

MARIA:
I love you all, and don’t forget me.

MARIA:
Farewell, everyone.

MARCO:
Farewell!

KIKO:
Bye, farewell!

MIKE:
Oh, I’m glad to see they’re going straight.

DAVY:
You know, I think we were a good influence on ’em.

MICKY:
Yeah, well, let’s not hang around here all night. Let’s go.

MIKE:
Yeah, it’s nearly—hey!

MICKY:
She took your watch!

MIKE:
Yeah, it’s gone!

DAVY:
Hey, mine’s gone too.

MICKY:
Well, I don’t wear a wa—my wallet!

MIKE:
Peter, what did she take from you?

MICKY:
Peter?

MIKE:
Peter?

MICKY:
Peter?

DAVY:
No, she couldn’t have.

MICKY:
You, you don’t think—

MIKE:
Peter?

MICKY:
Uh, you know, I really thought—

MIKE:
She wouldn’t have stolen—

MICKY:
Peter?

DAVY:
Peter?

MIKE:
Hey Maria!

MICKY:
Maria!