FicWad

DISCLAIMER: The only things I own that are anyhow related to the Beatles are books, shirts, and poster. This is all fiction, luvs, thought of by yours truly!

“Come on, boys!” Brian Epstein called. He and the Beatles were at a party, which had been dying down for the past hour. Now, they were some of the only people to be seen. John Lennon, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr obeyed Brian and came, but Paul McCartney didn’t. “Where’s Paul?” Brian asked the boys. They shrugged.
“Haven’t seen him in a while,” John said, which surprised everyone considering how much time the two spent together.
“Me neither,” said George.
“I think I saw him at the bar,” Ringo replied.
“Of course you would know that, Ringo!” John joked.
Brian grumbled as he looked around the large room for Paul. The others joined him. Finally, they found the drunken bassist resting on a couch. As Ringo had said, he was near the bar.
“Well, now I know where he is. You boys can figure how to get him to the hotel- I’ll see you in the morning,” Brian said, yawning.
“See ya, Eppy!” the others chanted as he left.
“So how are we going to get him to the hotel?” Ringo asked. “It looks like he’ll be asleep for a while.”
“I call his arms!” George piped up, reaching his arms through Paul’s armpits and pulling him up. “Ringo, grab his legs!”
“Why do I have to grab his legs?” Ringo argued.
“It’s either that, or his middle.”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“Basically, you’d have to hold up his butt.”
“Ok- legs it is!” Ringo said, pulling up Paul’s legs.
“In that case, John, you’ll have to grab his middle,” George said.
“Ok, then!” John said, jumping up to do so. Once they got him up off of the couch, they carried him off to the hotel.
“I bet you’re having a lot of fun with holding Paul’s butt, aren’t you, John?” George joked.
“Aw, shut it, Harrison- you just wish it were you carrying Ringo!”
Meanwhile, Ringo had been in his own little world, which had temporarily ended when he heard his name.
“Huh? What?” Ringo said, clueless.
“Aw, don’t worry about it, Rings,” George told him. “Just forget about it.” He glared at John when he started laughing at them.
Finally, they got to the hotel. The three carried Paul up to John and Paul’s room, where they flopped him one of the beds.
“G’night, John!” George and Ringo said as they were leaving.
“G’night, lads!” John replied.
“Now don’t get any ideas, John!” George teased.
“Ok, I won’t- as long as you don’t get any ideas, Harrison!” John laughed. Then, he looked at sleeping Paul, looking as innocent as a baby. He smiled. Then, he remembered something. He quickly got up and hurried to the bathroom. He had brought a few things with him just in case something like would happen on their trip. He grabbed them, then snuck over to Paul and started to enjoy himself.
~~~
The next morning, Paul woke up not remembering where he was. He looked around the room to realize he was just back in the hotel. He got up and went into the bathroom. He yawned and shrieked when he looked in the mirror. Loads of eyeliner, eye shadow, lipstick, and blush were painted all over his face.
“JOHN!” he said angrily. He looked down at the counter. Sure enough, some of Cynthia’s make-up that was “accidentally” put in with John’s stuff was spilling out of John’s bag that held tooth paste, shaving cream, etc. He washed it off and stormed down to find John the artist. The End.

I wasn't sure how posting different chapters on FicWad worked quite yet (I was in the process of writing Something and I Need You at the time), so I wanted to come up with a short story as an experiment. One night, I was playing cards, when all of a sudden this wild story came in mind! I wrote it down that night, typed it up in the morning, and posted what you have just read. I hope you enjoyed it!