One afternoon, in a pad in Los Angeles by the beach, four boys were rummaging through the kitchen looking to scrounge up something they could eat for lunch. These four boys, bandmates as well as roommates, were named Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones, Mike Nesmith, and Peter Tork. Of course, we all know who they are anyway!

"Man Mike, I'm starving!" complained the short, charming, British Davy. "What do we have to eat around here?"

"That's what we're looking for Davy," said Mike, the tall Texan with the green wool hat of the group. "But by the looks of it, I'd say there are slim pickings."

"Geez, all we have in here is gravy and enchilada sauce!" said the drummer, Micky. "This sucks!"

"Well that's not too bad," said the optimistic, childish blond, Peter. "If we find some chips we could have a pretty groovy dip!"

"Yes Peter, but we don't have any chips," said Mike.

"And that would be disgusting," said Davy.

"Says who?" said Peter, offended.

"Well, that doesn't matter as long as we have no food in the house," said Mike, the authoritarian of the pad. "We got money from our last gig that's still not used up yet, so I suggest one of us goes down to the grocery store to pick up the stuff we need."

"Okay then," said Micky. "Whose turn is it to go?"

"Well, let's see," said Mike. "I know I went last time. Who was before that?"

"I think that was me," said Davy. "Micky, you went before me, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did," said Micky. "Well, I guess that leaves…ah geez…Peter."

"Oh, come on Micky, what's so bad about me doing a little grocery shopping?" asked Peter.

"Oh Peter," sighed Davy. "Do you remember the last time we let you go to the store by yourself?"

"For the last time fellas, I thought that the store manager was a dummy!" said Peter. "I didn't mean to knock him into the ground beef!"

"Peter man, you're the dummy," said Micky, shaking his head.

"Mick, no insults," said Mike. "I think we can trust Peter to do shopping today."

"You're sure about that mate?" asked Davy. "Shouldn't one of us go with him or something?"

"Davy, Peter's not a child," said Mike. "I'm sure he's learned from last time—oh my sweet lord…last time—and he'll be fine on his own. Isn't that right Peter?"

"You have my word sir!" exclaimed Peter, saluting Mike. Mike sighed and rolled his eyes, wondering if it was a good idea to send him off after all. But like he said before, no matter how much be acted like it, Peter wasn't a child. The only way he could learn to take care of himself was if he went out and did it himself.

"Okay Pete," said Mike. "Can I trust you to take the car?"

"Oh, I don't think that's such a good idea Mike," said Davy.

"What, do you expect him to walk there?" asked Mike.

"Yeah…he'll just case more trouble if he walks," said Micky.

"I'll treat the car okay, I promise!" said Peter. "And I won't case any trouble, just give me the list, I'll get what we need, and I'll be out of there as quick as I can, honest."

"I trust you Peter," said Mike, reaching into his pocket and flinging Peter the keys. Of course, Peter didn't catch the keys; they instead missed his hands completely and hit him point-blank between the eyes. Slightly dazed, Peter bent down to pick the keys up.

"Thanks Mike," said Peter, a little embarrassed.

"No problem shotgun, now get outta here," said Mike.

"Yeah man, we're hungry!" said Micky.

"Wait Peter, before you go, here's a shopping list," said Davy, handing Peter a slip of paper. "Don't lose it now!"

"Don't worry Davy, I'll keep it with me at all times!" said Peter. "Bye! I'll be back before you know it!" With that, Peter walked out of the door and into the bright red GTO top-down convertible, affectionately named The Monkeemobile. Peter didn't know why the others were so worried about him. Of course he could go on a simple shopping trip! Everything he needed to get was on that list anyway—what could go wrong?

Once he was in the car and made sure everything was safe and the shopping list was closed tightly in his fist, he started the engine and backed out of the garage. Of course he was careful; The Monkeemobile was Mike's car, and if Peter got but one scratch on it, there would be hell to pay. But of course, Peter being Peter, there had to be something to go wrong before he even left the street. As he spun the wheel to turn out of the parking spot and onto the street, his hand slipped from the wheel and a quick gust of wind blew the shopping list right out of his hand.

"Oh no!" Peter gasped, his life flashing before his eyes. Davy had told him not to lose the shopping list! Forgetting that Mike would have his hide if he damaged the car, Peter swerved to the side with an outstretched hand, and miraculously caught the list. Slowing down and straightening the car out, he drew a sigh of relief and tucked the list in his pocket, what he should have done all along.

"Well, that sure was a scare!" Peter said to himself as he calmly drove to the store. "Let's not have anything like that happen again!" With complete confidence in himself, he finished his drive to the store and parked in the parking lot. Patting his pocket to make sure the shopping list was still there, he got out of the car and grabbed up a shopping cart to go into the store.

On his way in, he saw that there were a whole lot of other people who had the same shopping idea as him and the guys. The place was positively packed! Peter looked around nervously until an impatient store clerk tapped him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me sir, but you're blocking up the entrance!" said the clerk. Peter wheeled around in surprise to see a crowd of disgruntled shoppers, all glaring at Peter.

"Oh, sorry everyone!" said Peter, embarrassed, and he hurriedly got out of the way of the entrance. Once he was safely inside and away from any huge crowds, he decided that it would be a good time to look at the shopping list to see what exactly he should get first. He reached into his pocket to take the paper out and his eyes scanned the list until they rested on the first item: milk.

That should be easy enough, thought Peter. Nearly running down, and being run down by fellow shoppers, he made his way to the refrigerated dairy section. "Milk…" said Peter to himself. "That's no problem at all! I can buy a carton of milk." Of course, looking up the wall, he was growing very unsure of that…

There wasn't just one kind of milk…two percent, whole milk, non-fat, low-fat, skim, soy, almond, chocolate, vanilla, EVERYTHING! Where was the normal milk? What kind did they usually have at the pad anyway? It was too late for Peter to go back to the pad and ask, and there weren't any phones, so he thought to do the obvious thing. He rubbed his hands together and began to take one bottle of each kind of milk there was in the fridge shelves and flung them into the shopping cart. Once there was one of each sort of milk in the cart, Peter inspected it…at first all looked well, but it didn't seem right. What would happen if the guys liked one sort of milk and they ran out of it? Oh no, they'd never forgive him then! Of course, Peter did the next logical thing and took one more of each carton and piled that into the cart as well. Giving his work a satisfied nod and grin, Peter went on to look at the next item on the shopping list.

Eggs. "Right over there!" said Peter out loud as he went a few steps over from the milk. Looking at all the different kinds of eggs, he remembered that the guys liked the good ol' original white shelled eggs, which meant that he didn't have to fill the cart up with all kinds of egg cartons. Picking up a carton, Peter realized that he had better check the eggs inside for cracks.

"A cracked egg is a bad egg," he said jauntily as he opened the carton up. Thankfully, all of the eggs were perfect and no cracks were seen. Smiling and satisfied, Peter closed up the carton and went to place it carefully in the cart. But before he could safely reach the cart, he stepped in a puddle of water someone forgot to mop up and he was flying through the air. The carton of eggs slipped out of his hands, and when he fell flat on his back onto the hard tile floor, the eggs came crashing down smack on his face and head, cracking open, making the sticky, slimy yolk drip down Peter's less-than-pleased face.

"I guess I better get a new carton…" Peter mumbled, still sitting on the floor, pulling a disgusted face. After a moment, he finally got the motivation to get back up and grab a fresh carton of eggs, this time carefully avoiding the puddle. Of course he was still covered in egg yolk, but after that disaster, all Peter wanted to do was finish the trip and get back to the pad.

Bread was the next thing on the list. "I can't possibly mess bread up!" said Peter on his way down the aisle. "What could possibly go wrong?" Of course, this is Peter Tork we're dealing with here. So there has to be something!

It seemed simple enough…just take a loaf of bread off of the shelf and put it in the basket, right? Wrong. As soon as Peter grabbed a loaf, he realized that it was the wrong one. Almost as quick as he slipped in the puddle, the whole wall of break came tumbling off the shelf and right onto the poor guy, burying him. Thankfully break is light, so Peter was able to pop his head out of the pile, catching confused and worried glances from other shoppers.

"Oh my young man," enquired a frail-looking old lady. "Are you all right?"

"Fine ma'am, just doing my shopping!" said Peter stoutly. He crawled out of the bread, took a loaf to put in the basket, and went on his merry way, leaving the old lady looking very confused. Peter took one more look at the shopping list, hoping to whatever higher power there was that there wasn't anything else to buy. He drew a huge sigh of relief when he saw nothing after "bread" and went over to the cash register to pay for everything.

"You sure look like you've had quite the time," said the cashier as he surveyed Peter's cart full of milk and the mess of partially-dried egg yolk in his hair.

"You better believe it," said Peter. "Say sir, how much is all this worth?"

"Comes out to…" said the cashier, adding up the purchase. "Wow, look at this price will ya!" He showed Peter the total, and all of the color drained from Peter's face.

"Wow," said Peter. "I don't have that much money! I'm gonna have to put something back!"

"If I may make a suggestion," said the cashier. "Put some of that milk back, I doubt you need that much."

"You know, you may be right," said Peter, pondering. "We're only four guys after all…hey, if they don't like the milk I chose, they'll have to come crying to me!"

"That's the spirit," said the cashier as Peter put all of the milk back in the cart except for a carton of two percent milk. "Okay, here's the new total."

"That's more like it," said Peter, handing over the cash. "Thanks sir, you have a good day now!" He started to walk out.

"Hey, kid, wait, your groceries!" said the cashier. Peter wheeled around and noticed he left the bag at the register.

"Oops, thanks sir," said Peter, smiling bashfully. He picked his bag up and he was soon in the Monkeemobile and on his way back to the pad. He pulled into the garage, making sure he had the grocery bag, and went into the house.

"Hey Pete, you're back!" said Micky.

"Of course I am," said Peter. "It was only a few groceries."

"You were gone for a while though," said Mike, helping Peter put the things in the fridge. "We were getting worried."

"No need," said Peter.

"Obviously," said Davy. "Glad to see you back in one piece mate."

"Yeah, it went right after all," said Mike. As Peter walked away, Micky looked at Mike.

"It's good to see that he can follow directions and all…" he said. "But…what's that stuff all over him?"

"Yeah, it's gross," said Davy. "It looks like—like—egg yolk!"

"Well, I didn't say everything went right," said Mike. He figured that as long as no one was hurt and the groceries were bought, it was a successful shopping adventure Peter went on after all.