“Monkee Mother” Script

INT. THE PAD

MIKE:
Mr. Babbit, this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of. We have not planted poison ivy shrubs!

BABBIT:
According to my informants, Mr. Nesmith—

MIKE:
What is this, violation of the housing code seven sixteen: illegal storage of inflammable material. Well, I’m sorry, but Mr. Schneider is not firewood; he’s our dummy!

BABBIT:
A mere technicality.

MIKE:
Well, it’s not to him.

DAVY:
I think you’re making all this up!

PETER:
Yeah, you just want an excuse to make us pay our rent.

BABBIT:
Yeah, I’m pretty unreasonable about things like that.

MIKE:
Hey, look here, look. We got a seven day extension in this lease. Now, in some—

BABBIT:
Boys, there’s no sense in arguing. The new tenant will be here in about one hour.

DAVY, MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
New tenant?

BABBIT:
A delightful woman. You can introduce yourselves on the way out. Ha ha ho ho ho ho! Out!

DAVY, MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
No!

BABBIT:
Yes, out!

DAVY, MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
Please, no!

BABBIT:
Yes, out!

DAVY, MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
Please, no!

BABBIT:
To make it clear, get out.

MICKY:
Hey, I think he means it. What are we gonna do?

PETER:
I don’t know, man. Gonna have to do something.

DAVY:
Oh, he’s putting us on. There’s no new tenant.

MILLY:
Well, Louis, we’re here. How do ya like it, Merton? Huh? Aw. Merton doesn’t travel well. Oh, d-don’t, don’t get up. Finish convalescing. I can teach my bags to walk in by themselves.

“(Theme From) The Monkees”


INT. THE PAD

MILLY:
Not bad, huh, Louis? A little linoleum on the floors, some chintz here and there, a few doilies.

DAVY:
Uh, miss, ma’am, excuse me, I think there’s been a little mistake here.

MILLY:
Who did this?

DAVY:
Did what?

MILLY:
Who made this dust, this filth? You?

MICKY:
What’s today?

MIKE:
Huh? Uh, Monday.

MICKY:
Monday? Uh, it’s Peter. Peter puts the filth out on Mondays.

PETER:
It was nothing.

MILLY:
You’re fired. From now on, he sets the table.

DAVY:
Uh, uh, just a minute, Mrs. um, Mrs.—

MILLY:
Yuck!

DAVY:
Yuck? Listen—

MILLY:
No, Rudnick. Milly Rudnick. But I’m not a formal person; you can call me Milly.

DAVY:
Now listen here, Mil—

MILLY:
That doesn’t mean you can step all over me. My dear Herman, may he rest in peace, would die if he knew that somebody stepped all over me. When did he eat last? He looks terrible. Now. We must observe some rules. We’re all grown up people, here. We mustn’t make a fuss about going to sleep, and food should not be eaten with the fingers.

MIKE:
Um, the fingers should be eaten separately.

MILLY:
Don’t be a Mr. Mouth.

MIKE:
Joke.

MILLY:
Now, what do you boys do for a living?

PETER:
We look for work.

DAVY:
Huh. We’re musicians.

MILLY:
Musicians?

DAVY:
Yeah.

MILLY:
Oh, that’s wonderful! I love music!

MICKY:
Great.

MILLY:
Which one of you plays the violin?

EXT. THE PAD

MIKE:
Look, she’s a terror!

DAVY, MICKY, PETER:
Right!

MIKE:
And she’s gotta be stopped!

DAVY, MICKY, PETER:
Right!

MIKE:
Well, somebody’s gotta tell her!

DAVY, MICKY, PETER:
Right!

MIKE:
Well, who’s gonna tell her?

DAVY, MICKY, PETER:
You!

INT. THE PAD

MICKY:
Go, go!

MIKE:
Um, Milly, listen, uh, we’d like to have a talk with you.

MILLY:
Yes?

MICKY:
You know, the way we see it, Milly, we’re living here, and we feel that—

MILLY:
So live! Who’s stopping you from living? You wanna stay, stay. I’m not an unreasonable person.

MICKY:
Oh, that’s great.

PETER:
That’s good.

MILLY:
I’ve had boarders before.

DAVY, MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
Boarders?!

INT. THE PAD - BEDROOM

MIKE:
Oh, man! We gotta do something! We need to change our course of action.

DAVY, MICKY, PETER:
Right!

MIKE:
Huh.

INT. THE PAD

MILLY:
Oh, excuse me, Louis. There’s somebody at the door. Da da dum, da da da. Da doo da. Yes?

LARRY:
How do you do, ma’am, is this the, uh, house of Rudnick?

MILLY:
Well, not yet, but when my furniture arrives—

LARRY:
Well, it’s here. It’s on the truck. I’m the moving man.

MILLY:
Oh, that’s wonderful!

INT. THE PAD - BEDROOM

MIKE:
Look, we just gotta be firm. Just—

MICKY:
Yeah!

PETER:
Right.

MICKY:
Just, wuh, be firm.

MIKE:
Firm. Firm right up.

INT. THE PAD

LARRY:
I’ll start unloading, huh?

MILLY:
Yeah, well, just a minute. Boys! Oh, boys! Boys?

INT. THE PAD - BEDROOM

MILLY:
Boys? I wondered if you could help this nice man out.

MIKE:
Nice man, wh-what nice man?

MILLY:
Help me with my furniture.

MICKY:
Furniture?!

DAVY:
We’re musicians!

MICKY:
I can’t move furniture! My hands!

DAVY, MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
???

INT. THE PAD

LARRY:
Oh boy. That was a tough one.

MILLY:
Thank you, Larry. You did a nice job.

LARRY:
Well, I had a little help.

MICKY:
My arms, I can’t move my arms.

MIKE:
I can’t move your arms either.

MILLY:
Larry, I’d like to give you a little something.

LARRY:
Ah, no, Mrs. Rudnick, I couldn’t accept any money.

MILLY:
What money? I want you to have a piece of my homemade cheesecake.

MIKE:
Let’s go. I’ll race you to the door. Okay?

MICKY:
Yeah right, ready?

MIKE:
Here? Go.

MICKY:
Go. Uh.

MIKE:
Gee, man, you won. Huh huh.

INT. THE PAD

MILLY:
Oh, such a good boy, my Micky.

MIKE:
Mike!

MILLY:
Mike, Micky, what’s the difference? You’re all good boys. Oh, look how this one cleans. A regular Picasso of grit.

MIKE:
Would you please not do that? I just cleaned that!

MILLY:
Oh, and so conscientious. This isn’t the first time you’ve helped around the house.

MIKE:
No, it isn’t the first time.

MILLY:
You know what it means, responsibility, huh?

MIKE:
Well, we, we had kind of a large family, you know.

MILLY:
And little money. That’s not a happy combination, Mike.

MIKE:
Well, we, we made out alright.

MILLY:
Sure. With a little help from Mr. Nesmith. Mike. For you, I’ve got to make something special. Something… what can Milly do for you?

MIKE:
Make me a success.

MILLY:
Well, how do you do that?

MIKE:
Well, I don’t, I don’t know. With a couple of hit records, or, or shot on a television show.

MILLY:
Tell me, Mike, what good is success if you catch a cold? I’ll make you a sweater!

MIKE:
Oh—

MILLY:
Now, let me measure you. Come on. Let me see. That’s it. Sleeve. Turn around, turn around, please. That’s it.

EXT. THE PAD

MILLY:
Micky? Micky? Micky, you gonna get dirty under there?

MICKY:
Milly, I’m fixing a car; have a heart.

MILLY:
Well, what about the leaky faucet? That doesn’t interest you?

MICKY:
There’s a leaky faucet?

MILLY:
Don’t rush, ha. We’ll drink sea water ’til you’re ready. Ha ha. Oh, look at you. Look at you. What if somebody should come over for a visit? They’ll think it’s a zoo.

MICKY:
Okay, Milly. I’ll fix it now.

MILLY:
Micky?

MICKY:
Yeah?

MILLY:
You don’t mind, do ya?

MICKY:
No, I don’t mind, Milly.

INT. THE PAD

MICKY:
That was great, Milly. It was a gourmet feast.

MILLY:
You think Eydie Gormé could cook like this?

PETER:
Hey, Milly, that was great, thanks a lot.

MICKY:
Thanks a lot, Milly.

MILLY:
Davy, you’re an English boy?

DAVY:
That’s right, Milly.

MILLY:
You know Rex Harrison?

DAVY:
No, I haven’t had the pleasure yet.

MILLY:
How come? He’s an English boy too.

DAVY:
Maybe he’s avoiding me.

MILLY:
That’s alright. Don’t apologize. Some people don’t make friends so easily. Now me? I knew everybody in the neighborhood. Hello, Linda! Hiya, Lou! I’d call her from the window when I get home from shopping. Ah. That was a neighborhood. We’d call her from the street.

DAVY:
So why’d you move?

MILLY:
Nobody called back.

DAVY:
I woulda called back, Milly.

MILLY:
You’re a good boy, Davy.

INT. THE PAD

PETER:
You like music, Milly?

MILLY:
I told ya, I love music. What you kids played today, that’s not music. “Anniversary Waltz”, that’s music.

PETER:
We don’t know that one, but this is something else, and I-I think you’re gonna like this one.

“Sometime in the Morning”

MILLY:
Thank you, boys.

INT. THE PAD

MICKY:
What is this called?

DAVY:
This is what it called.

PETER:
Southeast Asia.

DAVY, MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
[cheering]

DAVY:
Okay.

MILLY (O.S.):
Yoo hoo, boys!

MILLY:
Milly’s home! We got company!

MIKE:
Oh boy, company.

MILLY:
Boys, look what I got! I found her at the supermarket.

PETER:
I don’t know where we’re gonna put her; there’s no room in the refrigerator.

MILLY:
Listen, fellas, I want you to meet Clarisse Rawlings.

CLARISSE:
Delighted.

MILLY:
Davy, Clarisse is English, and she’s not married yet.

DAVY:
Well, it’s only two o’clock in the afternoon; she’s still got time.

CLARISSE:
Mr. Jones, I’m shaking all over meeting such a close friend of Rex Harrison’s.

DAVY:
Oh!

INT. THE PAD

CLARISSE:
Do you really know Rex Harrison?

DAVY:
No.

CLARISSE:
Actually, I don’t care.

DAVY:
I’m no good for you, you know.

CLARISSE:
I don’t care.

DAVY:
Terrible temper.

CLARISSE:
I don’t care.

DAVY:
I wander.

CLARISSE:
I don’t care.

DAVY:
Cruel too.

CLARISSE:
I don’t care.

DAVY:
I love you, Clarisse!

CLARISSE:
I don’t care.

INT. THE PAD

MIKE:
Good thing about blondes, they sure don’t care, do they?

MICKY, PETER:
Not Clarisse.

EXT. THE PAD

MICKY:
I’m sorry, no more vacancies.

ARTHUR:
Alright, children.

JUDY:
Alright, darling.

MARK:
Ready… aim…

INT. THE PAD

JUDY:
Milly, Milly, Milly, Milly!

MILLY:
Oh! If it isn’t sister Judy! Arthur!

ARTHUR, JUDY:
Milly!

MILLY:
Alice! Mark! Adam! Michelle! Mike, Micky, Peter, Davy. Clarisse, Merton, Louis.

JUDY:
Oh, Milly, how are ya, haven’t seen you since I don’t know when. How’s Herman?

MILLY:
Herman? Herman’s been dead for ten years.

JUDY:
Uh-huh. Well, uh, how’s Merton and how’s Louie?

LARRY:
Mrs. Rudnick?

MILLY:
Larry!

LARRY:
I was wondering, uh, could I have a little more cheesecake?

MILLY:
Nice to see you again, Larry.

LARRY:
It’s nice to be back. Ha ha.

MIKE:
[mumbles]

ARTHUR:
Yes?

MIKE:
[mumbles]

ARTHUR:
Alice, sweetheart, loosen his gag, I can’t hear what he’s saying.

ALICE:
No, daddy, he’s my prisoner!

ARTHUR:
Okay, honey, cookie. You make him talk.

ALICE:
Talk!

MIKE:
[mumbles]

ALICE:
Talk!

BABBIT:
Alright, what’s going on here?

PETER:
Hi, Mr. Babbit!

BABBIT:
Will you stop—

MILLY:
How do you like the cheesecake?

LARRY:
I like the cheesecake; that’s why I came back, for more cheesecake.

MILLY:
Ah!

BABBIT:
Stop this! What’s going on here? What, will ya—whose kids are these?

JUDY:
They’re my kids!

BABBIT:
These are monsters! They’re about to destroy everything!

JUDY:
They are not, they’re my kids!

BABBIT:
I don’t want cheesecake, even if I liked cheesecake, I wouldn’t—

HOT DOG VENDOR:
Hot dogs!

BABBIT:
No, no! No popcorn, no nothing!

CLARISSE:
I don’t care!

HOT DOG VENDOR:
Popcorn!

CLARISSE:
I don’t care! I don’t care!

HOT DOG VENDOR:
I don’t care either, baby! Peanuts!

ALICE:
Talk!

MIKE:
[mumbles]

ALICE:
Talk!

MIKE:
[mumbles]

ALICE:
Talk!

INT. THE PAD

MILLY:
Come on, hurry up, go down the beach. That’s it, Adam, Clarisse, come on. Ha ha ha. Larry. Ha ha ha ha. Come on—boys! Boys! Come on, boys! We’re going down the beach! Come on!

DAVY, MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
[mumbling]


EXT. THE PAD

MICKY:
Zooooom! Chew carefully. How you gonna be president if you don’t chew carefully?

PETER:
I don’t wanna be president.

MICKY:
Shh, don’t talk with your mouth full.

MIKE:
Man, I’m telling you, we have been conned. They don’t even want her to leave anymore. They’re getting just like her.

DAVY:
It’s only been three days, and just look at ’em. Look at ’em!

MICKY:
You’re right; this is no life for us.

DAVY:
It’s no life for Milly either. We’ve got to find a way out of this for all of us.

MIKE:
A way out? Man, there isn’t any way out. We might as well be married to her.

MICKY:
That’s it! A husband!

PETER:
What?

MICKY:
We’ll find her a husband. That’s what she needs, that’s what she wants.

MIKE:
Where in the world are you gonna get a husband for Milly?

INT. THE PAD

LARRY:
Hello? Anybody home?

EXT. THE PAD

PETER:
Hey, it’s Larry the moving man.

MIKE:
It’s worth a try.

LARRY (O.S.):
Hello? Anybody home?

INT. THE PAD

DAVY:
Hi, Larry.

LARRY:
Hi fellas.

MIKE:
Hey Larry.

LARRY:
I forgot to unload this lamp the other day.

MIKE:
Oh, yes, so you did, look, I’m glad to see you, man. Why don’t you come on in and sit down, make yourself at home.

DAVY:
Oh, come on in, man.

LARRY:
Oh look, thanks, fellas, but I gotta get home. Little woman expects me.

DAVY:
Little woman? Are you married?

LARRY:
No, I live with my mother; she’s very small.

MIKE:
Oh. Why don’t you sit down? Make yourself at home.

PETER:
Yeah!

DAVY:
Hey, why don’t you stay for dinner?

INT. THE PAD - BEDROOM

LARRY:
Do I look alright, fellas? Huh?

DAVY:
You look great, you look great.

INT. THE PAD

MILLY:
D-d-do I look alright?

PETER:
You look great.

INT. THE PAD - BEDROOM

DAVY:
Just repeat after me: Milly, your eyes are like cupcakes floating in a sea of sour cream.

LARRY:
Your eyes are like cupcakes floating in a sea of sour cream?

INT. THE PAD

MILLY:
Listen, he lives with his mother, he should go home. Sh-she might be worried.

PETER:
Oh no—

INT. THE PAD - BEDROOM

LARRY:
I don’t know, fellas, what does she want with a guy like me?

DAVY:
Hey, listen, don’t worry, man, she’ll find something to do with ya.

INT. THE PAD

PETER:
Uh, you drive him to distraction. He has to be with you. He told us.

MILLY:
He said that?

INT. THE PAD - BEDROOM

MIKE:
She’s crazy about you, Larry! You drive her to distraction!

LARRY:
She said that?

EXT. THE PAD

MILLY:
So, as I was saying, I said, Greta, why do you take the pills for the liver when it’s the pain in the kidney that gives you the headache?

LARRY:
Ya.

MILLY:
Buy you know Greta, she wouldn’t listen. No. Wouldn’t listen.

LARRY:
Mm-hm.

INT. THE PAD

MICKY:
—wash the dishes?

MIKE:
Wash them, wash them, wash them, rough hands, red, rough hands.

MICKY:
Another one.

MIKE:
Another one. Don’t do that.

DAVY:
How’s it going, Peter?

PETER:
Heartburn. She’s up to heartburn.

EXT. THE PAD

MILLY:
So naturally I warned her. Marilyn, I said, you can’t drink water in bed when you have the electric blanket on.

LARRY:
Yeah.

MILLY:
It’s like going to the chair! You know.

INT. THE PAD

EXT. THE PAD

MILLY:
So, after they took the cast off her husband’s leg, she decided—

LARRY:
Uh, Milly?

MILLY:
Wha?

LARRY:
Uh, I don’t mean to interrupt, but, uh.

MILLY:
Oh, I’m sorry, Larry, I’ve been chatting all night. What did you want to say?

LARRY:
Uh, your Herman, he must have been a pretty great guy I guess. I mean, the way you talk about him all the time and all.

MILLY:
He was an angel.

LARRY:
An angel?

MILLY:
He was an angel, but a man. A very, very nice man.

LARRY:
Uh, Milly.

MILLY:
Hm?

LARRY:
I’m not an angel.

MILLY:
But you’re a nice man, Larry. A very nice man.

INT. THE PAD

PETER:
Guys! Guys! Wake up! Wake up! Look! We did it! We made it! It’s love! Lookit! Lookit!

MICKY:
Really?

DAVY, MICKY, MIKE, PETER:
[cheering]

DAVY:
Shh!

INT. THE PAD

[unintelligible]

LARRY:
A toast. The groom proposes a toast. To Milly.

MILLY:
To my Larry. And to my matchmakers.

BABBIT:
Um, Mr. Nesmith?

MIKE:
Oh, hi, Mr. Babbit. Uh, listen, we got the rent playing for Milly’s wedding, and—

BABBIT:
Don’t worry about that, if I’ve inconvenienced you in any way.

MIKE:
Oh, well, no, but, there is one little favor I’d like to ask of ya.

BABBIT:
I’d be delighted to. What is it?

MIKE:
Well, I had to, I had to watch the kids, and, uh, you know, I, uh, play the music, ha ha, and I wondered if, uh, maybe you’d do it. For me. Watch the—

BABBIT:
Certainly, certainly. I love kids.

MIKE:
Okay. Ha ha. Strange man.

“(Look Out) Here Comes Tomorrow”


EXT. THE PAD

MILLY:
Well, my darling boys, thanks for everything.

PETER:
It was nothing, Milly. Pleasure.

DAVY:
It was fun. It was great, Milly.

MILLY:
Now Micky, sweetie, you wear that sweater in the evening so you won’t catch cold.

MIKE:
Okay.

MILLY:
And Peter? Don’t you get overheated playing ping-pong all alone.

PETER:
I won’t.

MILLY:
Well, it was really a pleasure having all you boys under my roof.

DAVY:
It was really great.

PETER:
It was nice to have you.

DAVY:
Great, great.

MILLY:
And we-we’ll see each other again, I’m sure.

MICKY:
’Course we will.

DAVY:
Why-why don’t you call or something, or, or write sometime?

PETER:
Yeah.

MILLY:
Well, look, I’m very bad at letters; I’ll drop over.

MICKY, PETER:
Drop over?

MICKY:
Wha-what?

MILLY:
Why not, when I only live two doors up the block? Yeah, I’ll bring over some soup, and we’ll talk over old times. Tonight, for instance! Larry! Hurry, sweetheart, it’s getting late.

LARRY:
“Eyes like cupcakes floating in sour cream”.