“Monkees in the Ring” Script

Teaser

EXT. STREET

DAVY:
Hey, hey, hey, Peter. Wait, wait, wait a minute. Do you realize you’re leaving a trail of bloody pistachio nuts all the way across the city? You know, if you committed a crime, the police would find you in two minutes.

PETER:
You’re right. I’m sorry.

BULLY:
Why don’t you watch what you’re doing?

PETER:
Hey, I’m sorry, mister. I didn’t mean anything. I was just picking up—

BULLY:
Oh, a wise guy, huh?

DAVY:
No, I didn’t—

BULLY:
I’ll teach you to wise guy with me.

DAVY:
Hey, wait a minute. He didn’t mean any harm; he was just picking up the nuts.

BULLY:
Oh, a good samaritan, huh?

DAVY:
No.

BULLY:
Well, see if you like this! Oh!

DAVY:
Oh. I’m sorry.

SHOLTO:
What a punch. What a, what a.

PETER:
Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?

DAVY:
I didn’t, I just, like that. Nothing.

SHOLTO:
You’re a good boy, and I like a good boy.

DAVY:
Oh, thank you very much. Can I have a cookie?

SHOLTO:
No, no. You don’t understand. Kiddo, you’ve got the greatest right hand I ever seen. I’m gonna make you the next featherweight champion of the world.

DAVY:
Oh, that’s nice. Yes.

“(Theme From) The Monkees”

Act One

INT. THE PAD

DAVY:
Now, come on, you guys. I just made a date to see Mr. Shiloh.

MIKE:
Sholto.

DAVY:
Sholto. It doesn’t mean I’m gonna become a boxer.

MIKE:
Well, what do you wanna go down there for, man? Just to see him is ridiculous.

MICKY:
Hey, man, you know, boxing is really bad for maraca players.

DAVY:
You’ve gotta admit, we need the money. Things have been a little tight lately, you know.

MICKY:
Tight? What tight, man? Look at this place. It’s, it’s beautiful. How elegantly furnished it is. Look at this beautiful lamp, man, and a beautiful chair, and look at this table.

[The table breaks.]

MICKY:
A heh heh. Don’t look at the table.

DAVY:
Don’t you want me to be rich and famous?

PETER:
We’d rather have you alive and well.

MIKE:
Yeah, besides, you don’t know anything about boxing.

PETER:
Yeah.

DAVY:
That’s not so. I used to be quite a scrapper at school, you know. There was this one big bully, always used to be picking on me. So one day, I went whammo with the right and whammo with the left.

MIKE:
And what it, what happened?

DAVY:
She never bothered me again. Now I have to go and hear what Mr. Sholto has to say.

MICKY:
Please, my boy, listen to your papa. Don’t-a go in the ring. Don’t-a be a fighter. Think of your hands, your beautiful hands. You never play the violin again.

DAVY:
But I don’t play the violin.

MICKY:
You could learn.

MIKE:
He could learn. Ha ha.

DAVY:
Come on, Micky, get out, man.

MICKY:
He don’t a-listen to his papa no more.

INT. SHOLTO’S OFFICE

SHOLTO:
Vernon. Vernon! Vernon!

VERNON:
Oh! Hi, boss.

SHOLTO:
Hi. Look, Vernon. We gotta build up a big reputation for Davy Jones. Build up the odds. Then we match him with the champion, and we make a killing when he loses.

VERNON:
A killing when he loses. Ha.

SHOLTO:
Now, what about Tiger Smedley? Will he take a dive in the third round?

VERNON:
If the money’s right, the Tiger’ll take a dive at the weigh-in. Ha ha ha ha.

[There is a knock at the door.]

SHOLTO:
Well, open the door, Vernon. Let in our golden goose.

VERNON:
Golden goose.

[Davy enters.]

SHOLTO:
Davy Jones. How’s my boy today?

DAVY:
Well, you know, I—

[Micky, Mike, and Peter enter.]

MICKY:
Hi!

SHOLTO:
Who’re they?

DAVY:
Uh, well, they’re my friends, and they don’t really think I should go into the fight business.

SHOLTO:
Well, let’s get rid of them and then we can talk. Get Rocco.

VERNON:
Get Rocco!

MAN (O.S.):
Get Rocco.

MAN (O.S.):
Get Rocco.

DAVY:
Hey, just a minute. If they go, I go.

SHOLTO:
Don’t get Rocco.

VERNON:
Don’t get Rocco!

MAN (O.S.):
Don’t get Rocco.

MAN (O.S.):
Don’t get Rocco.

MICKY:
Hey, what do you get out of this, Shylock?

MIKE:
Sholto.

MICKY:
Sholto.

SHOLTO:
Just a small piece of Davy’s purse.

PETER:
He doesn’t carry a purse; he carries a wallet.

SHOLTO:
Well, listen, gentlemen. We don’t even know if Davy’s got the makings of a champion. Why don’t we see what you can do in the gym? Right, Vernon?

VERNON:
See what he can do in the gym. Right, boss.

SHOLTO:
Davy.

MICKY:
The gym.

VERNON:
Ohh!

INT. GYMNASIUM

SMASHER:
Hey, look at these guys! Ha ha ha ha!

SHOLTO:
Let’s see you try out on a light bag, kid.

VERNON:
Boy, that’s quite a right you got.

SHOLTO:
Now let’s see how you are against a good boy. Hey, Smasher. Come here a minute. How would you like to go a round with the Smasher?

DAVY:
No, thanks; I’m already going steady.

SHOLTO:
Go ahead. Take a poke at the Smasher. Use your left.

SMASHER:
Ahh!

VERNON:
Wow! What a left hook!

MICKY:
Hey, that’s not so hard. Anybody can do that, man. You just kinda dance around a little bit, and you give him a right to the—ah. Uh. Uh. You weave a little bit, you know, and left into the stomach, wack! Oh. If that doesn’t work, you use your head. Uh. Got a good left, Davy. A heh. A heh.

INT. SHOLTO’S OFFICE

SHOLTO:
You boys are all concerned with Davy’s welfare, right?

MICKY:
Right, yeah.

PETER:
Right. Mm-hm.

SHOLTO:
Do you know the thing closest to my heart?

MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
Your lungs.

SHOLTO:
Tell ya what I’m gonna do. If Davy doesn’t win his first three fights by knockout, you can have him back, okay?

MICKY:
Okay.

MIKE:
Yeah.

MIKE:
That’s pretty fair. Okay.

SHOLTO:
Good. Vernon, the robe.

VERNON:
The robe.

SHOLTO:
Now, slip into this, Davy.

DAVY:
Is that for me? Oh, that’s lovely, thank you.

SHOLTO:
Look at that. From now on, you’re gonna be known as Dynamite Davy Jones. And you’re my boy.

MICKY:
Oh no.

INT. THE PAD

DAVY:
Now, come on, fellas, I’m just going on a simple boxing tour. I’ll be alright, Mike.

MIKE:
Okay. But listen, man. You’re gonna be going to a lot of strange cities, and there’s always one hotel with a lot of gambling and drinking and a lot of fast women, a lot of loose talk. You know what to do when you get to town?

DAVY:
Find that hotel.

MIKE:
You’ll do fine.

INT. GYMNASIUM

SHOLTO:
Now, listen, kid, it ain’t gonna be easy. You’re gonna train and fight, and fight and train. You’re gonna be up early in the morning, do four miles of roadwork and then an hour on a light bag, and then an hour of calisthenics, and then an hour of shadowboxing, and then you—

DAVY:
Breakfast?

VERNON:
Breakfast. Ha ha ha ha.

SHOLTO:
Let’s get started.

DAVY:
Okay.

SHOLTO:
Right here. Hit low. Hit! Hit! Hit!

“Laugh”

INT. SHOLTO’S OFFICE

[A group of reporters are talking.]

SHOLTO:
Take it easy! You’ll get your story as soon as Dynamite gets here. Here he is! Baby, Davy! What could be the best possible news I could bring you?

[A reporter takes a picture of Davy.]

DAVY:
That he ran out of flashbulbs.

SHOLTO:
Well, I got you a fight with the Champ. These boys are from the papers.

DAVY:
Oh, really?

SHOLTO:
He’s all yours. Come on.

REPORTER #1:
Davy, Davy! How does it feel to know you’re gonna be fighting the Champ?

DAVY:
Well, I was brought up in the slums. I had to fight my way out of filth and poverty.

MIKE:
Davy, you were raised in a residential area.

DAVY:
I had to fight my way out of a residential area.

REPORTER #2:
What fight was the most important to you?

DAVY:
Uh, the revolutionary war. That’s when we gave you this little island. No letters on that, please, thank you.

REPORTER #1:
Davy, is it true you call your mother every time you win a fight?

DAVY:
Yeah, that’s right.

REPORTER #1:
What do you do if the opponent wins?

DAVY:
I call his mother.

[The reporters laugh.]

REPORTER #2:
What strategy are you gonna use against the Champ?

DAVY:
I’m gonna do a lot of bobbing and weaving and, uh, lefts and the rights and, uh, I’m gonna carry this lead pipe with me.

REPORTER #1:
How about that! Ha ha!

PETER:
Boy, he sure is big news, isn’t he?

[The phone rings.]

MIKE:
Shylock—

MICKY:
Sholto.

MIKE:
Sholto’s office. Violence is our business.

SMASHER:
Sholto, this is the Smasher. Now when I took that dive to the Jones kid for five hundred dollars, I thought I was receiving top dollar. Now I hear that Tiger Smedley got eight hundred for taking a dive. How come he gets three hundred more than I do?

MIKE:
Um, well, um, because he’s a better fighter.

SMASHER:
Oh, okay.

MIKE:
So that’s what their game is.

PETER:
Hm?

MIKE:
Hm.

REPORTER #1:
Wait a minute. We got a story to get here.

MIKE:
Listen, man. Those three fights, they were fixed. It was a put-up job, the whole thing.

DAVY:
Fixed? Come on, you’re putting me on. You’re talking to Dynamite Davy Jones, you know.

MIKE:
Davy—

DAVY:
There’s thunder in my left, and dynamite in my right.

INT. GYMNASIUM

MICKY:
No way Davy bought those stuff about those fights being fixed, man.

MIKE:
Yeah, well, that’s okay, you know. There’s more than one way to skin a champ.

MICKY:
Yep.

MIKE:
Okay, Champ, uh, that’s, that’s it, uh, for today, buddy. Here’s a little towel over your shoulder.

MICKY:
We’re the trainers the boxing commission sent. You, you are the Champ, aren’t ya?

CHAMP:
I work and train the whole day through, so buddy, I’m not number two.

MICKY:
He’s a champ.

MIKE:
He’s a champ.

CHAMP:
I don’t dig this setup when the boxing commissioner assigns me men.

MIKE:
Well, it, uh, it’s because, uh, the commission has decided that, uh—

MICKY:
A rule, a new rule. Rule.

MIKE:
A rule, yeah. Sure, when it’s a championship fight, gotta have trainers in there to, uh, keep everything on the, uh—

MICKY:
Up and up. Up and up.

MIKE:
Up and up. Sure.

CHAMP:
Well, if that’s the way, then I guess it’s okay.

MICKY:
Is it true that you’re gonna fight Dynamite Davy Jones after what he did to his last opponent?

MIKE:
Oh, foolish, no.

CHAMP:
Sure, it’s true. What did he do?

MIKE:
What did he, what did he? Ho-ho.

MICKY:
His nose and head, chin, ribs, and the nose, they had to fix his nose.

MIKE:
They had to put it back between his eyes, move it from the side and move it around.

MICKY:
But, uh, his, uh, seconds, they, uh, did a great job. The kid lived.

MIKE:
He lived. Here he comes now.

PETER:
Sign my cast?

CHAMP:
Tell me true, and don’t make no bones. How was your fight with Davy Jones?

MIKE:
He always talks that way.

PETER:
It was a split decision. He split my eye, he split nose, and he split my lip.

MIKE:
Oh, that’s a drag. Don’t you think you ought to fight somebody else?

MICKY:
Yeah. Yeah.

CHAMP:
Holy, gee. What did you guys do to me?

MICKY:
Never be able to play the guitar again.

CHAMP:
Oh, I get it. You’re Davy Jones’ musician friends. Well, you can tell him from me, it won’t work! When I get him in the ring, I’ll slaughter him. You hear me? I’ll slaughter him.

MICKY:
That doesn’t rhyme.

MIKE:
Well, nobody’s perfect.

CHAMP:
Get outta here. Get out of here! Get outta here! Get out! Get outta here! I am the greatest!

Act Two

INT. SHOLTO’S OFFICE

VERNON:
Boss! Boss!

SHOLTO:
Yeah? Yeah? Yeah?

VERNON:
Uh. Oh, yeah. I just heard ’em trying to convince the Champ not to fight Jones.

SHOLTO:
That settles it. You keep his friends out of circulation ’til after the fight.

VERNON:
’Til after the fight. Right, boss.

SHOLTO:
I just laid down ten G’s on the Champ. After Jones’ three KO’s, the odds are pretty good on the kid. Hey, they should know he can’t stand a chance in a million.

VERNON:
Chance in a million. What should happen if Jones should win?

SHOLTO:
What did you say?

VERNON:
Well, I mean, he ain’t been fixed; some crazy things can happen in the ring.

SHOLTO:
Happen in the ring. Vernon, you’re right. You better give him a sleeping pill before the fight. After all, this is a chance to make a fortune or to lose a fortune.

VERNON:
Chance to make a fortune or lose a fortune. Boss?

SHOLTO:
Yeah?

VERNON:
Which do you think we ought to do?

INT. SHOLTO’S OFFICE

DAVY:
Left, right, right, left, left, right.

VERNON:
The sleeping pill’s in this water glass, boss.

SHOLTO:
Good work, Vernon.

VERNON:
Thanks, boss.

DAVY:
Right, right, left, left, right, right, left, right, left, right, left, right.

REPORTER #1:
Aren’t you worried? The Champ said he’s gonna slaughter you, Davy.

DAVY:
Oh, no. I just think of the wise words of that old Yugoslavian philosopher.

REPORTER #2:
What’s that?

DAVY:
Haber reeber sacken roba soka roba seeka raba seeken roba sacken.

REPORTER #1:
Oh, yeah.

SHOLTO:
Go on over to the boys’ pad and keep ’em out of circulation.

VERNON:
Out of circulation. Right, boss.

SHOLTO:
Okay, boys. You can talk to him after the fight, when he’s champ. Here you are, kid. Drink your water.

DAVY:
No, thanks. I’m not very thirsty right now.

SHOLTO:
Well, come on. Water’s good for you.

DAVY:
I’m not thirsty.

SHOLTO:
Drink it!

DAVY:
No!

SHOLTO:
A little w—it’ll, it’ll keep your sweat down.

DAVY:
I don’t want—I’m not sweating. I’m not sweating.

SHOLTO:
Water is good for ya!

DAVY (V.O.):
Water? I never touch the stuff.

CHAMP:
I hear you got a lot of pluck. I wanted to come over and wish you luck.

DAVY:
Gee, thanks, Champ.

CHAMP:
I’m all perspired, through and through. I think I need this a little more than you.

SHOLTO:
No, no! No, no!

INT. THE PAD

MIKE:
Oh, where in the world is Davy?

PETER:
He’s not upstairs.

MICKY:
He must have split for the arena before we had a chance to catch him.

MIKE:
Oh, well, that’s just fine.

MICKY:
Yeah.

MIKE:
Okay, well, we might as well go on down there and see if we can see anything.

MICKY:
Don’t worry. Now, don’t worry, man. We’ll be there in time to stop the fight. I’d like to see anybody get in our way.

[Micky opens the door. Vernon enters with a gun.]

MICKY:
Hi, anybody. Heh heh.

INT. BOXING RING

RING ANNOUNCER:
Tonight’s main event is for the featherweight championship of the world. Introducing, in this corner, wearing white trunks, weighing in at one hundred and twenty pounds, the challenger from Manchester, England, Dynamite Davy Jones.

SHOLTO:
??? Davy ???

RING ANNOUNCER:
And his opponent, in this corner, wearing red trunks, weighing in at one hundred and twenty-two pounds, the featherweight boxing champion of the world.

INT. THE PAD

PETER:
Hey, Vernon, would you, would you fix the fine-tuning, please, man?

VERNON:
Fine-tuning, yeah.

MIKE:
Wait a minute. The contrast is bad.

VERNON:
Contrast is bad?

MIKE:
Turn the knob. Down, yeah.

MICKY:
The horizontal hold, fix that. That’s that little knob down there. The horizontal hold.

VERNON:
The horizontal hold sounds alright to me.

FIGHT ANNOUNCER [on TV]:
They’ve entered the ring, they’ve shaken hands, and the fighters have now been told that in the event of a knockdown, each man must go to a neutral comer.

MICKY:
Man, I wish he’d go to the corner of Crescent Heights and Sunset.

PETER:
He’d be safe.

INT. BOXING RING

SHOLTO:
Alright, Davy. This is the big one. You go out there now and win!

AL SILVANI:
Hey, break, come on, ah. Break. Get in there.

FIGHT ANNOUNCER:
Oh, what an exciting fight this is, fight fans. There’s a right to the head by the Champ. And a flurry of lefts and rights by Jones.

AL SILVANI:
Break it up. Break it up.

FIGHT ANNOUNCER:
And a yawn by the, uh, I mean, right to the head by the Champ. Oh, I wish you were here, fight fans.

VERNON (V.O.):
Hello?

SHOLTO:
Vernon. There’s trouble; The Champ took the sleeping pill.

INT. THE PAD

VERNON:
Gee, that’s terrible, boss.

INT. BOXING RING

SHOLTO:
That pill ought to wear off by the fourth round. Meantime, you make sure those Monkees don’t get out of your hands, you hear?

INT. THE PAD

VERNON:
Don’t worry, boss; I got glue in my blood.

INT. BOXING RING

SHOLTO:
Yeah.

INT. THE PAD

VERNON:
Alright, boys. Round two.

MIKE:
Uh, Vernon?

VERNON:
Huh?

MIKE:
Were, uh, were you ever a prize fighter?

VERNON:
You kidding? I was the greatest.

MIKE:
Well, you know, it was probably a long time ago, uh. I imagine you’ve lost your form by now.

MICKY:
Yeah, yeah, you’re probably getting all flabby and fat.

VERNON:
Yeah?

PETER:
Gone to sea.

MICKY:
Yeah, you get pretty old after you—fighters get old easy.

VERNON:
How ’bout you and me going a round?

MIKE:
That’s fine, that’s fine. That’s fine. It’s w—it’s wonderful. But, uh, but Micky’s gotta be my second. And Peter’s gotta be the referee.

VERNON:
Alright.

INT. BOXING RING

DAVY:
I wonder where the fellas are.

SHOLTO:
They must be watching it on television.

DAVY:
You know, the Champ seemed terribly groggy these first three rounds.

SHOLTO:
I think there’ll be a change in the fourth. Go get ’em, Dynamite.

FIGHT ANNOUNCER:
And they’re coming into the ring now for round four, and the Champ is filled with new energy.

PETER:
Alright, fighters, touch gloves. Alright, fighters, go to your corners. Vernon, go to your corner.

VERNON:
Yeah? Where’s my corner?

MICKY:
Over here, Vernon, baby.

VERNON:
Where? Where?

MICKY:
Yeah. Right. A little back further. I gotta make more room. Back here. A little more. Here’s about right. You okay?

VERNON:
Yeah, it’s my corner.

MICKY:
Great. Man, we gotta get to the ring and stop that fight.

MIKE:
Yeah.

PETER:
Oh, look at that carnage. What brutality.

MICKY:
You wa—you watching the fight?

PETER:
No, the news.

INT. BOXING RING

“I’ll Be Back Up on My Feet”

SHOLTO:
Go, Champ, go! In! In! Get him!

DAVY:
Don’t do that.

VERNON:
Boss, boss. I goofed. They fled from me.

SHOLTO:
Vernon! Get them!

MICKY:
Stop the fight! Stop the fight! Stop! Stop the fight!

FIGHT ANNOUNCER:
Oh, ladies and gentlemen, what a fight this has turned into! Mike Nesmith is running around the ring with Joey Sholto. Joey Sholto’s ahead. He’s leading. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. Oh! What a fight!

CHAMP:
I am the greatest!

FIGHT ANNOUNCER:
The ref just went down! He’s flat on his back. Sholto—he’s down!

PETER:
The winner and our new champions is The Monkees! Hey, Davy.

FIGHT ANNOUNCER:
What an evening this is in the boxing ring. Something to be remembered.

MICKY:
You’re the man.

POLICEMAN:
Okay, you’re under arrest. Assault, attempted bribe, kidnap.

SHOLTO:
Davy, I think you’re the most harmless fighter in the business.

DAVY:
I’ll try to live up to that.

SHOLTO:
It’s guys like those Monkees that are ruining the fight game.

VERNON:
Fighting the ruining game.

SHOLTO:
Oh, Vernon!

Tag

INT. BOXING RING

DAVY:
So all those fights were fixed?

MIKE:
Yeah, well, that’s okay, I mean, you know. Maybe you’re not a great boxer, but you’re gentle, and you’re kind, and you’re sincere.

MICKY:
Yeah, that’s right, babe.

MIKE:
Yeah, and what’s more, you’re a good friend and a great musician and a great man.

PETER:
Ladies and gentlemen, our national anthem.