A 'Monkees' & 'Touched By An Angel'

Crossover story

By: Yvette Jessen

"Guys, I'm really bummed that that gig didn't work out," Micky Dolenz was grumbling as he and his three band-mates were walking across the parking lot to retrieve their car in order to drive back to their beach-front house. "It would have been groovy if we could have gotten it, I mean; did you check out that pad? It was radical."

"The girls were really cute, too," Davy, the group's heartthrob said smiling, his brown eyes twinkling brightly. "Especially that girl named Rachel. I couldn't take my eyes off her."

"We know," Micky muttered. "You and your lovesickness. You have cost us more gigs since we got together, simply because every time you see a dame, you get stars in your eyes."

"Literally," Peter mumbled.

"I think we should have played 'Daydream Believer'," Mike drawled, his Texas accent showing as he crawled behind the wheel of the red convertible. "Oh, well, we'll have to see if we can get some money in another way. Hey Pete, give Davy the paper and let him see if there is there anything in the classifieds?" He cast a sideways glance to the backseat where Peter Tork and Davy Jones were seated and Peter appeared to be totally distracted and was making paper airplanes out of the newspaper. It almost appeared as though he hadn't even heard a word Mike had said.

"Oh, give me that," Davy said, his British accent even more clipped than usual. Once he had the paper, he opened it and began to look in the 'no experience necessary' column.

As he read the classifieds to his band-mates, Peter stared out the window, but after a few moments, something caught his eye and he began to stare at the spectrum of light that was dancing around them on the front window of the car.

The late springtime sunshine continued to shine down on them, the radiance of it casting small slivers of reflected light around them, as though shining through a prism, and it seemed as though Peter was the only one who felt content at this moment. The other three Monkees seemed, if anything, stressed out. Another gig audition having gone badly, he thought to himself as he sighed deeply, the Los Angeles air somewhat fresher than usual, perhaps because it had rained the day before and when it rains that always clears things up a bit.

Peter rested his blonde head against the headrest and ran one of his hands along the contours of the red plush seat. Somehow it did not occur to him that the seats were the wrong color, as the Monkeemobile had white leather seats, but instead of focusing too much attention on this, he opened his eyes and began to watch as the sunlight began to dance across the hood of the car.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he began to look around to find where there light was reflecting from. Within seconds, he discovered the reason; a small golden pocket watch was lying on the seat.

He retrieved the object, ran his hand across the cover, and could see some tiny designs that resembled flowers along it. He opened the cover and smiled when he could see the numbers, and after a moment, he held the object to his ear to listen to the sounds of it ticking. After a few moments he lowered the object and looked up. "Uh guys?" He spoke as he sat up in his seat. Strangely, no one seemed to hear his words, so without saying anything further, he leaned back against the comfortable velvet style seats and closed his eyes as the light from the sun beat down on him.

Eventually, Peter opened his eyes again and stuck the golden object in his pocket. He wondered all the while if his friends would even realize that they were not seated inside the Monkeemobile, but rather a futuristic looking car, which had the same color.

He closed his eyes again and said nothing. He figured it was all for the better since everyone considered him to not have all his cups in the cabinet. He watched as Mike took the key that was dangling from the ignition, turned it, and the car hummed to life. "Hey guys," he repeated knowing all the while that what he had to say was actually rather important.

"Not now Pete," Micky said brushing him aside and completely unaware that Peter did not like to be called 'Pete' at all, it made him sound like a glob of sculptor's clay rather than a person. When he realized that his three best friends were not paying any attention to him, he released a pent up sigh and rested his head against the soft seats.

Davy continued to read the classifieds aloud, but Peter ignored his words. They would eventually find out that they were in the wrong car.

Once Mike managed to maneuver it out of the parking lot, they sped off right as three women and a man exited the building adjacent to where they had been parked.

*****

"My baby," one of the women wailed, as she stared after the shiny red Cadillac that was disappearing in the distance. "Who would go and steal my baby?"

"Uh oh," the handsome green-eyed man stared in the direction of where the car was going and he looked at the other two women. "Monica, why don't you and Gloria go inside and see if the people here know who those four guys were. I'll stay out here with Tess."

"I'll tell you who they are," Tess grumbled. "A band of long haired weirdoes."

"Tess, now that's not very nice," the auburn headed woman said softly, but she smiled gently at her friend. "Come on, Gloria, let's go inside and see if we can find out who those boys are."

The brunette woman with glasses nodded as the two of them disappeared inside.

The man looked back over at the woman with mahogany colored skin; she did not look at all pleased, and he sighed deeply as the woman's eyes fell on him. "Angel Boy, do you think the people inside will know who those boys are?" She asked him, and he could tell that she was not pleased that this group had stolen their car, as she was very protective of it.

"Sure Tess, they looked remotely like that band that had just auditioned for the benefit, so chances are, they would know who they are. If not, maybe Gloria and Monica will be able to find out what their address is while they are inside. If not, them maybe we can take them their car and get yours back." He pointed across the parking lot to a similar, but much older convertible. On one side was a guitar emblem and the name 'The Monkees' printed on one side. "Maybe they took your car by mistake."

"Oh Andrew, I hope you're right, but the last time my car got stolen, it was by that con-artist in Utah," Tess said, but as she looked around, and even though she knew that everything was in the capable hands of the Father, she could not get over the fact that something just did not seem right.

Seconds later, Monica and Gloria came out of the building. "Tess, we have a problem."

"No kidding, Miss Wings," Tess said sarcastically. "My baby has been stolen by a rock-n-roll band and there's no telling where they will take it."

"No, Tess, I mean we really have a problem on our hands," Monica said, her voice emerging as though she had a hard time believing or comprehending what she and Gloria had discovered when they had gone into the building to get help. "Gloria, you tell them."

The angel looked at Tess. "I grabbed a newspaper as we were coming out," she explained softly as she handed the item to Tess who looked down at it.

The headline read: 'President Johnson to meet with chiefs of staff on Vietnam Crisis'

"President Johnson?" Andrew looked at Tess. "That can't be, the US President is supposed to be George W. Bush, there's no way that there could be a President Johnson."

"The last President Johnson was Lyndon B. Johnson," Gloria supplied. "He was the President from 1963 after President Kennedy was assassinated on November 22, in Dallas, Texas…"

"Gloria, stop, honey, please," Tess admonished. "My baby is gone, and I don't want to think about who the president of the United States is right now…"

"Tess," Andrew interrupted. "When we went inside that building, the year was 2001. So I mean, this has got to be a mistake."

"Andrew, the Father doesn't make mistakes," Monica interjected. "If we are stuck in the 1960's then there must be a reason. I mean, what does the date say on the newspaper?"

"May 23, 1968," Tess read the date on the paper. "But, this could be an archived paper."

"I don't think so," Andrew interjected. "Look around this parking lot, it looks like a showroom for classic cars. We must be stuck in 1968, somehow the Father sent us here for a reason."

"Are you sure about that?" Tess asked.

"Look around, Tess," Monica began. "Didn't you see the dresses the ladies were wearing in there, they were so short? I mean, let's face it, this does not even look like the year 2001."

"No, it doesn't," Gloria said matter-of-factly as she pointed down at the newspaper in Tess' hands. "We must be in 1968, because that newspaper looks brand new, and besides, the Monkees were a rock and roll group from that time period. According to the almanac of that year, they were pretty popular and their music spans from the sixties up until the eighties when they went on tour in 1986 and 1987."

"Then let me get this straight, a bubble gum kind of rock group from the sixties called the Monkees are the ones that stole my car?" Tess asked. "I don't believe it."

"And my watch," Andrew said sadly as he felt the pocket of his jacket and realized that the one possession that he had was now gone. "We have to get it back."

"OK, agreed, and it looks like the Monkees are going to be our newest assignments anyway," Tess said. "The Father said we should take their car and drive it to the beach. Once we get there, we should have no problem finding them. We just look for the biggest crop of girls."

"Why's that?" Monica asked.

"Davy Jones is what some people call the heartthrob of the group, and he tends to attract girls like crazy," Gloria supplied. "It's only natural that if we can find a group of girls around the beach, than chances are, we'll find Davy."

The four angels went and piled into the Monkeemobile and with Tess behind the wheel; they drove off in the direction of the beach.

*****

At the Monkees' pad, the group piled out of the car and walked towards the door to their apartment. Standing on their front porch was Mr. Babbitt, the balding, ultra conservative, landlord. "Yikes," Micky mouthed to his friends, and without waiting to see what the mean spirited landlord wanted, the four Monkees took off in four different directions, Mike ran towards the water, Micky ran back around the house, Davy ran past Mike and up the beach in the direction of where a bunch of teenagers were playing volleyball.

Finally, Peter ran back up the street towards town. As he ran, he could see another car coming down the road in his direction, and he looked up and realized that the car was the Monkeemobile and when his eyes met the woman who was behind the wheel, he stopped suddenly, his eyes widening, and he started to back up in the direction of the beach house.

The woman pulled to the side of the road and she looked at Peter somewhat annoyed, her eyes meeting his soft brown ones. "Well, if it isn't one of the thieves who took my car."

"Hey, I tried to get them to stop…" Peter began but his voice faltered.

"It's OK, just tell me where my car is, baby," the woman said.

"Up near the house," Peter said softly and shrugged his shoulders, but when the side door opened, the man who was seated in the backseat smiled warmly at him.

"Hop in, we'll give you a lift," he said.

Peter nodded and squeezed into the backseat with the man and the brown haired woman. "I'm sorry about the mix-up," he offered as he looked at the group of angels.

"No trouble," the man said. "My name is Andrew, this is Gloria, that's Monica and Tess."

Peter nodded and as soon as they pulled up to the house, they got out of the car, as Mr. Babbitt approached.

"Where's my rent, dumb-dumb?" He asked, his harsh voice emerging complete with a sneer on his lips.

"He's not a dumb-dumb, Mister," Tess snapped impatiently as her dark eyes bore down on those of the intimidating landlord. "You should be ashamed of yourself for calling this boy 'dumb'."

"OK, fine, well, then, where is my rent, Mr. Tork?" Babbitt asked, the sneer still covering his lips, but this time his voice emerged only a small fraction softer than it was the first time he made his demand.

"I-aaah," Peter stammered, his voice somehow failing him and he simply shrugged his shoulders. "We were hoping that we would be getting this one gig today, but the thing is, the party was for an 89-year-old man's birthday party, and they took Sam Sludge and the Snail Boys…"

"So, does this have any relevance?" Babbitt asked.

"We didn't get the gig, Mr. Babbitt, so we don't have the bread to give you the rent." Mike said as he came over to where they were now standing. "So, we were wondering if you would give us an extension on the rent, at least until next week after we find a job, and actually have some money earned."

Babbitt looked at the four Monkees who had now regrouped to help Peter. He stared at them as if to say 'you kids will never amount to anything', but instead of speaking these words, he took turns at giving them angry glares.

"Come on, Mr. Babbitt, have a heart," Davy said weakly giving Babbitt the best puppy dog eyes he was capable of giving.

"You forget, Davy, you're talking to Babbitt, he's got no heart," Micky quipped, his voice hopefully soft enough where the landlord wouldn't hear it, but he pondered if he actually had.

"I heard that Dolenz," Babbitt snapped, thus causing Tess to intervene and she looked at them, and could see the tension emerging in the confrontation.

"Look, baby, you want rent, OK, you've got it," Tess pulled some money out of her pocket and shoved it into Babbitt's hand. "No, you go and leave these boys alone."

Once her words had emerged, Babbitt shrugged his shoulders and he quietly left. Once he was gone, Tess looked at the four Monkees. "Now then, where did you boys park my car?"

"Your car?" Mike, Davy, and Micky asked almost at once.

"They brought the Monkeemobile back," Peter offered as he looked at his band mates.

"You knew about this Pete, but didn't tell us?" Micky asked.

"I knew about it, but you wouldn't listen to me," Peter shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the beach and left his band-mates standing with the four angels.

Davy, by this time was giving Monica the eye, his eyes sparkling as he regarded the auburn-headed beauty that was standing in front of him.

"Look, Ma'am," Mike said, always the polite southern boy. "We're really sorry about this, but we'll do what we can to make restitution."

"How can we do that, Mike? We have no gig, no money, we couldn't even offer them a loaf of bread," Micky hissed. "The cupboard is so bare, even the rats have decided to relocate."

"Listen, don't you worry about that," Tess supplied. "You boys seem to have enough trouble on your hands, you don't need extra trouble from us."

Andrew had, by this time walked towards the Cadillac and when he looked down at the seat where he usually sat, he released a pent up sigh as he realized that his watch was not on the seat, and he glanced skyward hoping that the Father would give him the answer he needed in this regard.

As soon as he reached the car, he could see the sky getting grayer and realized that he should put the hood up or it would rain inside and Tess would not be very happy about that.

The Angel of Death climbed into the driver's side seat and put the top up. As he did, Peter came closer and watched all the while holding the watch in his hand and staring down at it. Once he was standing next to the car, he slid the watch back inside his pocket and waited for Andrew to get out of the car.

"Hey, could you help us get the top up on our car, too?" Peter asked.

"Sure," Andrew said as the first drops of rain started falling and they walked towards where Tess had parked the Monkeemobile. Once they had managed to put the top up, they returned inside, where the other three angels and Peter's band-mates had gathered.

*****

"I don't know why we took your car," Mike was explaining as they came inside the house. Tess and Monica were seated on one of the sofas, and Gloria was getting a closer look at Mr. Schneider. She even took off her glasses and was trying his on. When she did turn around and make eye contact with Micky, he smiled weakly but shook his head.

Gloria returned the glasses to the dummy and put her own back on.

"Look, Mike," Tess began, "you boys don't have to explain why you did what you did, but maybe it would help if you told us what happened."

"We didn't get the gig," Micky said shrugging his shoulders. "That's pretty much what happened. Other than that, there's not much to tell."

"Davy fell in love with another girl," Peter supplied as he and Andrew started a game of chess.

"Rachel was beautiful," Davy began to croon. "I just can't help it, when I see a beautiful girl like that, I just get stars in my eyes."

"Literally," the other three Monkees chimed and Davy shrugged his shoulders and looked at Monica and gave her a winning smile.

Andrew looked up from the chessboard and shook his head. "Did any of you happen to find a gold pocket watch in the back seat of the car? I seemed to have misplaced mine."

Micky, Mike and Davy shook their heads and the angel was left looking across the chessboard at Peter. The blonde headed Monkee nodded as he reached inside his pocket, pulled it out, and handed it to Andrew.

"You stole his watch, Pete, how could you?" Davy said when he saw his band-mate's actions.

"I didn't steal it, I…" Peter's voice trailed off and he shrugged his shoulders and looked over at Andrew who had taken the watch and put it back in his pocket.

"No harm done," Andrew said smiling as he looked at the four young men.

The three other Monkees appeared to still be a little bit cross with Peter and eventually the eldest member of the band stood up and slowly left the room. Andrew finally looked at the others. "Guys, wait a minute, Peter didn't steal my watch. Try not to be so hard on him."

Tess nodded and looked at the other three Monkees. "Andrew's right."

Micky nodded. "Yeah, guys maybe we were a bit hard on him. Come on let's go up and apologize to him."

Mike and Davy nodded and the three Monkees excused themselves and went up the stairs to talk to their friend. When they got to the top of the stairs, and came into the room, they looked around the room. "Peter?" Mike called out.

"Hey, Pete, where are you?" Micky called out.

"Peter?" Davy called out, but when no answer emerged, the three Monkees stared at each other for a split second and then the three of them shouted. "He's gone!"

*****

Twenty minutes later, Peter walked inside a Pop's restaurant. The owner was a good friend of the band, he had been ever since they had saved this place from the mob. As Peter sat down at an empty table he began to look around. Once upon a time, I was a hero, he thought sadly to himself. Everyone makes fun of me because they think I'm stupid, but I'm not, he continued to contemplate, but after a few moments of sitting and staring down at the greasy menu, he did not hear that someone else had come into the place and had sat down across from him.

"Peter?"

He looked up. "Andrew?"

"Hi," the angel looked at the musician with a warm smile on his face.

"I didn't steal your watch," he said softly as he stared down at the tabletop.

"I know you didn't, Peter," Andrew said gently. "Now, your friends are worried about you."

"What friends?" Peter asked. "They didn't even believe me when I told them the truth."

"I know that too, but they are your friends. They're just worried because you guys didn't get the gig, and sometimes people react to their friends in rather negative ways simply because they are worried about where their next dollar is going to come from. They don't mean to do it, but sometimes fear tends to make people do things that they normally wouldn't."

Peter shrugged his shoulders.

"Do you remember last Christmas?"

"Yeah," Peter replied.

"Melvin was a lonely little boy, Peter," Andrew said calmly.

"How'd you know about him? I mean, we were hired to take care of him during the holidays, and anything that could have gone wrong, did," Peter said, smiling slightly as he recalled the entire mishap with that cynical little boy as well as the pain and humiliation with the moped. Thinking about this sometimes made his head hurt, but he was happy about the fact that Melvin and his aunt had a better understanding afterwards.

"A friend of mine told me about him, He also told me that you nearly had a concussion from that ride on that moped in the shopping center," Andrew smiled. "You know, you and your friends, you all have the talent of giving people a chance to feel better about not only themselves, but about the world around them. Just think about this Peter, why do you play music? Is it to get gigs and to perform, or do you do it for another reason?"

The musician thought for a moment about what Andrew had said. "It wasn't really a big deal that we didn't get that gig, was it?"

"No, not when you look at the big picture," Andrew said.

"The big picture? Are you talking about things like song writing?" Peter asked.

"Not really, I'm talking about the fact that you have a gift, and where that gift came from. You play nine musical instruments, and you have a creative mind, Peter," Andrew said as he smiled gently at the young man seated across from him.

"How did you know that I could play nine different instruments?" Peter asked. "Did you see us play somewhere?"

"Well no, my friends and I aren't from around here," Andrew began, "but, what would you think if I told you that God told me about it just now?"

"I would tell you that you're probably as wacky as people accuse us of being," Peter laughed softly, but something told him that there was more truth in Andrew's words than he could have imagined.

"No, God did tell me this, Peter, and He also gave me a message that I am supposed to deliver to you. He told me to tell you that He loves you, and that He knows how hard it is for you to go through all this and be considered dumb, when you're actually a musical genius as well as to some degree a spiritual teacher," Andrew smiled as he began to glow. Peter's eyes widened as he regarded the angel.

"Y-you really are an angel?" He managed to stammer, but then somewhere he caught himself and continued. "I mean, I know that sounds stupid, but…"

"No, not stupid, it's true, and my three friends are angels too. I don't really know why we were sent here, but I am guessing that it had something to do with you."

"Me? Why would an angel from God come and see me?" Peter asked.

"Well, just tell me why an angel wouldn't come to see you?" Andrew challenged him.

The musician shrugged his shoulders as the other Monkees came into the restaurant and they stopped when they saw Peter sitting at a table and talking with Andrew.

"Hey Peter, why did you just disappear?" Micky charged over to where they were sitting, thus causing the eldest of the four Monkees to look up. When he looked back over towards where Andrew had been sitting, he could see that the angel had stood up and walked back over towards the doors where Tess, Monica, and Gloria were gathered.

"Angel Boy, what was that all about?" Tess asked.

"Nothing, but you know I love music, and in the year 2001, Peter Tork is considered by many to still be a musical genius and I guess I just wanted to talk to him," Andrew said smiling weakly as the other Monkees looked over in their direction.

"Angels?" Davy looked at Monica in disbelief and when his brown eyes locked with her own, Mike and Micky had to hold their friend to his chair to keep him from going and planting a wet kiss on Monica's cheek, and probably also on her lips, too, but this is a G-rated piece…

Anyway, this writer digresses! Now, back to the story…

"If ya'll are angels," Mike began looking at Monica, Tess, Andrew, and Gloria. "Where are your white robes and harps?"

"Harps?" Gloria asked.

"It's an instrument, little angel," Tess said, as Pop brought one through the door and attempted to put it up on the stage.

"Peter, where did you want this?" Pop called out, grunting, as the harp is rather heavy.

"It's fine right there," Peter said and shrugged his shoulders as his other band-mates looked at him. "Isn't this great?" He asked. "It was so much fun playing this that day, that I thought I'd really take it up."

Micky groaned and Mike rolled his eyes as they remembered how they had to win back Peter's soul after he had accidentally traded it to the devil for the ability to play this instrument.

"You know where you got the gift to play that?" Andrew asked from the other side of the room.

Peter nodded and pointed skyward as he ambled up onto the stage. As Andrew nodded, the angel approached the stage as Peter sat comfortably in front of the intimidating looking instrument.

"Angels huh?" Davy mused as the beautiful music drifted through the room. Andrew continued to listen to Peter playing as the youngest of the Monkees was still eying Monica and was rubbing his hands together as he came even closer to where three of the angels were standing.

"We are angels, Davy," Gloria said as soon as Davy had reached where they were standing and he looked into Monica's pretty brown eyes.

Micky approached and began to laugh as he watched his band-mate gazing at Monica, but the auburn-headed angel smiled gently and when she looked down at her clothing she could see that she was still dressed in a short mini-dress and Davy's eyes were literally dancing as he reached where she was standing.

Only seconds before he had reached her, she had changed and was now wearing a white flowing gown. She smiled sweetly at Davy, not as one who would judge him, but with the utmost understanding and compassion. At that instant, she began to glow, and his eyes widened in silent astonishment. Seeing his face almost caused her to break her composure and begin to giggle, but she had a message to deliver and had every intention of doing so and with as much discomfort as angelically (she's an angel so humanly wouldn't work here) possible.

"Davy, don't be afraid, we are angels, the four of us, but in many ways, you and your friends are as well. You have done for others, you have given a lot of people hope in the process," Monica said smiling gently as Davy backed up from her.

"Angels?" He muttered.

Peter, on the other hand, had started to play 'I Wanna Be Free', and his eyes were watching Davy, but after a few moments, he suddenly stopped and looked at Andrew. "You guys aren't just here for me, are you?"

"No," Andrew said softly. "We're here for all of you." He glanced over and looked at Micky and Mike, who were by this time, speechless, which is saying a lot because Micky is very rarely speechless about anything, but I digress.

"God loves you," Gloria said smiling at the four Monkees and she looked at Tess who smiled and nodded as she continued. "God wants you to know that He sent us here from the 21th century to tell you that even though you may not get all the gigs, and you may not be the most successful group around, he wants you guys to hang in there, and in time you'll discover the success that is due you."

"That's right, babies," Tess said. "Do you know what gig you missed out on?"

"Not really," Micky stammered.

"It was for a man's 89th birthday party," Monica said. "Your music is good for a lot of people, and one day people will say it's classic, but for now, you four shouldn't lose hope on what may be awaiting you in the future. Just keep your faith, and remember that God is always there watching over you and He'll help you find your audience if you ask Him."

"We'll try to remember that, Ma'am," Mike said.

"God has another message for you," Tess said, her no nonsense voice causing the band to look at her. "He wants you to always believe in your friends. You three hurt your friend, Peter, but you must always remember that he's got feelings and that he wouldn't do anything that would hurt any of you."

"We'll remember that," Micky said and he looked at Peter with a new appreciation.

Within seconds the four angels were gone, and the Monkees were looking around the room in astonishment.

"What a trip," Micky said shaking his hand and running his hand through his curly hair. "Guys, let's not tell anyone about this, agreed?"

The other three Monkees nodded their heads in agreement, but Peter stood up from where he is sitting at the harp. As he did, he felt something in his pocket and when he pulled it out, he gasped when his gaze came to land on a duplicate of Andrew's pocket watch, which rested in his hand. Instead of speaking of this to his friends, he returned the angel's gift to his pocket and seated himself at the harp once again. This time, he began to play, 'Riu Chi' and the four of them began to harmonize as the Spanish Christmas carol filtered through the room. As they looked out the window, they could see the springtime flowers blossoming, but none of them seemed to care. The carol continued through until the very end.

*****

As the angels were once more standing at the front of the building, they realized that they had returned to the present and Andrew smiled. "Tess, you know, I think the Monkees are going to be even bigger this year than they were in 1968."

"How do you figure, Angel Boy?" Tess looked at him, and she offers a faint smile.

"I don't know, but something tells me their time will come," Andrew said as he emphasized the word 'time' and looked at Gloria and Monica. "I personally enjoyed being in the middle of the 60's the Angel of Death smiled as he ran his hand through his shoulder length blonde hair.

"Well, I'm glad to be back," Monica said smiling as the warm Utah sunshine beat down on them. "It's nice to be in the present, not to mention have something besides mini dresses to wear. And people think dresses are short today."

Tess smiled, "Yes, Miss Wings, that dress was definitely short, and Davy Jones couldn't take his eyes off you," she chuckled as she remembered how uncomfortable Monica felt in that ultra mini mini-dress she wore when they were visiting the Monkees and how Davy was giving her the eye.

Monica looked at Gloria and shook her head sadly, but Gloria smiled. "Did you notice that Micky wasn't as funny as I thought he'd be?"

"He was intimidated by Tess," Andrew smiled wickedly.

"You want to step closer and repeat that, Mr. Halo?" Tess turned on him and copped her usual attitude.

"Do I have to? I mean, shouldn't we be finding out how we ended up in the 1960's in the first place?" Andrew asked as they walked by a small store that sold television sets. As they stopped for a few minutes to look inside the small shop, he turned and looked at Monica. "I guess it could be worse, we could have gotten lulled back to that television show they have playing in the window."

The three female angels turned and faced the window, and on the screen was a cartoon, and they could hear the theme music playing even from their place on the sidewalk.

"Here come the Animaniacs…and we're zany to the max…"

As the angels disappeared, a white dove flew to the top of the sign which was above the store and landed on it.

Once there was no sign of the angels, the three main characters from the animated show poked his or her heads out of the small shop and began to look around.

"Oh where, oh where did my Angel Boy go?" Whined one of the characters, a little girl in a pink dress with a flower that connected what looked like ears. Her bright black eyes continued to scan the street as she crooned. "Oh Andrew, where for art thou, my Angel Boy…?"

As she walked, her two brothers turned, looked at each other, and shrugged their shoulders before following her down the street.

The end, maybe!!!

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