Hotel California

"Oh, Mike no!"

"Geez man have a heart!"

"I want to stay." Predictably it was Davey who uttered the last remark. His mouth was hanging open wide enough to land an aircraft carrier in it and if someone had been waving a gun in his face the young man would not have been aware.

"Yeah, Mike, it's so lovely here." Peter was under a spell too it seemed although it was the hotel itself that seemed to be ensnaring him. He was standing in the centre of the room his head tilted back with wonder as he took in the great crystal chandelier above him and the gilded borders that danced and flickered around the edges of the walls.

"I really think we should go," The tall Texan made one last half hearted attempt to stand against his friends wishes. "And am I the only one who can hear that music?"

Mickey tilted his head and listened thoughtfully. He frowned then tilted his head the other way moving his hands as if conducting an imaginary orchestra. Finally he turned back to Mike.

"Yup. What music?"

With a sigh he began filling in the register. Watching him the young woman gave a gasp of delight as she saw that he had written musicians under the title of profession in the big dusty book.

"You play music!" She said with delight.

"Excellent," said a voice like rustling paper from behind them. "Musicians. We haven't had you're like here in some time."

With a jump the Monkees turned to face the person who had spoken. Tall and cadaverous he loomed over them and displayed a hideous grin that would have had a Beverly Hills dentist rubbing his hands with glee and picking out a new yacht.

"Let me take your things."

"No, no that's..." The four young men watched as he stowed their bags and instruments under his improbably long arms and took off towards the great staircase. Faced with the choice of running and losing their gear or staying they followed the porter reluctantly up to their room.

Hotel California

Part 2

The guys were shown to a suite that had obviously once been the glory of the hotel. Faded satin and silks covered the walls and ceiling and as well as the four beds it had a small sitting room and a private bathroom with a tub big enough to hold Moby Dick. Struck dumb they could only copy Peter and stand and stare until the thump of their bags hitting the marble floor brought them crashing back to earth.

"Uh, wait a second man," Mike stopped the rapidly retreating figure of the porter. "We can't afford a room like this."

The shambling giant studied him quizzically.

"What can you afford?"

"A Motel 6. Maybe."

"You can have the room for half of what they would charge you."

"What! Why?"

"Never mind why," Micky put in hurriedly. "that'll be all thanks."

He hustled the man out of the room ignoring the protests of his fellow Monkee.

"Micky we shouldn't stay here I don't like it."

"Ah, come on Mike, it's one night." Dolenz mugged comically. "What could happen in one night."

"Guys, guys!" Peter came rushing back his brown eyes alight with excitement," you have to see the bedroom. There are mirrors on the ceiling!"

"And pink champagne on ice," finished Davey. He was holding the dripping magnum in one hand and grinning from ear to ear.