Starring: My favorite four mop tops (John, Paul, George, & Ringo)
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Disclaimer: I dont own any of the Beatles (But boy do they own me...)
What's about?: Well it's not about very much :P heehee. Just a little bit thingy I wrote because I was bored and sugared-up late at night but decided it wasnt good enough to get into the George/Pattie fic I'm working on.
“Ouch, ya bleeding oaf get off me foot!”
“I’m not on yer foot.
“Well someone’s on me foot!!”
“Shut it, Ritchie’s on yer sodding foot”
“Get off me damn foot!!!!” John exploded.
“Shhh, keep it down,” an exhausted Paul urged as he tried desperately to support the weight of an unconscious George on his shoulders as John had stopped helping in favor of trying to unlock their hotel room door.
The three quarreling boys made for a very interesting scene as they tried frantically to enter their own room. They were working on their first feature film A Hard Days Night and the four Beatles decided they deserved a night of clubbing. George felt particularly entitled as his latest infatuation Pattie Boyd had turned down another offer for a date. Ringo for one regretted allowing George to console himself with booze.
Ringo promptly regretted this even more as Paul dropped their friends incapacitated form onto him in order to assist a struggling John with the key.
“You turn it John,” Paul slurred as means of explanation, “No like this.” He said finally unlocking the door himself. “There” he said in an exasperated tone of voice as he gestured towards the door.
John strode past his friend into the room as he muttered to himself, “Bloody keys, bloody doors,” leaving the two other Beatles to deal with George. Paul always the diplomat, albeit a very drunken diplomat, returned to Ringo who was struggling to support George on his own. Shifting half of George’s weight onto his shoulder Paul and Ringo began to struggle towards the door. Once inside Ringo kicked the door closed behind him as they continued lugging Georges’ unconscious form towards his bed.
“Lovely night eh, Paulie?” Ringo remarked sarcastically as the two lowered George onto his bed.
“Huh” Paul scoffed in response as he stretched out his arms relieved to have shed the extra 142 pounds he had been dragging around the hotel for the past half hour. “If it wasn’t for love struck Georgie here,” Paul started to Ringo, “I could have made off with that bird.”
“Oh yeah she was a looker,” Ringo remarked casually as he started to walk towards his own room in the suite.
Paul sighed as he started to work on untying George’s shoes, he was eager to join Ringo in their room for some well deserved sleep. With dedication Paul tugged at George’s right shoe.
“Bloody hell,” Paul muttered under his breath becoming aggravated with the situation at hand. After another couple minutes of struggling he decided to just leave the thing on his friend’s foot. Paul glanced over at the clock sitting on the bedside table John and George shared.
Surely that was the gin and tonics talking. He shook his head and looked again. It was indeed 3:00. Brian had distinctly told the boys that they were to be out the door by 7:00.
Paul groaned slapping a hand to his forehead and quickly deciding that he couldn’t waste any more time on George. He quietly made his way to the door as not to wake a sleeping John and walked briskly back to his adjoining room muttering to himself in an almost incoherent fashion,
“I need my beauty sleep too…..cant keep looking after this lot…..look like hell in the morning….supposed to be the cute Beatle….”.
Thanks for ye old time! :)