"Who Ya' Gonna Call?"
The Monkees were rehersing for an up-coming gig at the pad one spring day, when they heard a knock at the door.
"Ok you guys, let me in or I'll break down the door!" shouted Mr.Babbit from the outside.
"He sure has his way with words," said Mike.
He placed his guitar down and went to answer the door.
As soon as Mike opened it, Babbit stormed in yelling.
"I am kicking you out!"
"Sir, I thought we just paid the rent on the first of May," said Davy.
"You did, but it was for March's payment," said Babbit.
"Sir if you just give us more time," said Peter.
"No more excuses.
My lawyer's coming by with disposs papers, then out you go!"
Babbit left leaving the Monkees standing quietly, the mood was somber.
It was Micky who broke the silince.
"Come on you guys.
Babbit's just bluffing," he said.
"Yeah, he's said it before and we still live here," said Peter.
"You know, I think he really mean it this time," said Davy.
"He did sound quite serious," said Mike.
"I think I have a better chance of being crowned Ms.America, than having a lawyer stopping by the pad," said Micky.
Just then, there was another knock at the door.
"I'll get it," said Micky.
He opened the door, and standing outside was a man around 40 wearing a suit and carrying a brief case.
"Exuse me, My name is Alan Thomkins attorney at law," said the man.
"There she is, Ms.America," Mike sang to Micky.
Micky motioned his hand to cool it and spoke to the lawyer, "Did you say you're a lawyer?"
"Yes, By the way do the Monkees live here?" asked Mr. Thomkins.
"That will be us," said Micky.
"Do you mind if I come in?"
"Sure."
Mr Thomkins entered the pad.
"Is there anything we can do for you sir?" asked Mike.
"Actually this concerns you," said Mr. Thomkins.
He opened his case, while the Monkees sat around looking nervous.
"Oh please let me explain while I'm here, said Mr.Thomkins, I'm a lawyer for thr late Dr.Steven Kenneth Issac Patrick Philp Yates the III, known to his friends and co-workers as Skippy.
Mr.Yates has left the Monkees something in his will."
"Excuse me Mr. Thomkins, I don't think we ever met Skippy, er Dr.Yates," said Mike.
"But you did, awhile ago, you returned a wallet containing 400 dollars to Mr.Yates, he really appricated that.
"It showed our honesty," said Peter.
"No sir, it wasn't his wallet," said Mr.Thomkins.
"Now what a minute Mr.Thomkins, said Mike, Why would a total stranger leave us something in his will?" asked Mike.
"Yes, doesn't he have family?' asked Davy.
"Dr.Yetes didn't have children, and was never married, however there is a nephew named Louis, but we were unable to contact him," said Mr.Thomkins.
He then handed the Monkees a piece of paper.
"I one Dr.Steven Kenneth Issac Patrick Philp Yates the III leave the Monkees 1512 Ninth St.," Mike read.
"Did Dr.Yates named a street after us," asked Peter, sounding excited.
"Not exactly," said Mr.Thomkins.
He looked at his watch.
"I better get going, please me meet at that address tommorrow morning at 10 am."
"By the way, what was Dr.Yates a doctor in anyway?' asked Mike.
"You'll find out tommorrow."
The next day, The Monkees met Mr. Thomkins at 1512 Ninth St, at exactly 10am.
"Well, gentlemen this is it," said Mr.Thomkins, indicating an old firehouse.
The Monkees just stood there, in shock.
Mickys411 Laura the glick groabnite

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