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| The date was August 9th, 1965. The Beatles were in the midst of all their fame, making lots of money, had all the women they could ask for, and everybody loved them. Or so they thought.
Time: 7:45 am. Paul goes outside in his robe to get the morning newspaper. Luckily, there were only a few girls out there, but he made it quick so he wouldnt have to deal with them any more than he had to. He hurriedly made his way back inside, and into the kitchen. I wonder why the other three aren't up yet, he thought. They're ALWAYS up at this time! Oh well, I might as well eat breakfast and read the paper now; I might not get a chance to later.
He sat down with the food, and noticed an unopened letter sitting on the table, and it was addressed to him. He opened it, and he read:
Dearest Paul,
I am a sweet admirer of yours, and would love to get a chance to talk with you. I say we meet at 547 Baker Street, in the back alley. Meet me there at noon, and DON'T BE LATE!
Love yours truly,
Rose Lavette
'Thats an odd place to want to meet at!' he thought to himself. 'And who is Rose Lavette?' Well, he ate, and he got all showered and shaved and cleaned up for Rose, not knowing what was in store for him.
Time: 11:49 am. Paul had driven down to the front of 547 Baker Street, and thought it looked pretty old and dingy. He walked around to the back alley, where he was greeted by a beautiful woman, wearing all red. She came up to him and started flirting, then all of a sudden, Paul felt an extremely bad pain on the top of his head. It was so bad that it knocked him down onto his back. Above him for a very brief moment he saw a big burly man holding a lead pipe, and he cracked it down on him again. This time, he knocked Paul out cold.
The next thing Paul knew, he was in an old warehouse, tied up to a chair with a big heavy rope. "What are you doing to me? And why? What did I ever do to you? Who are you?"
"Shut up, Brit!" a thin man in a black suit said. "Listen, here's what's going on. We sent a note to your house, to lure you into our trap. We made it sound like a fan letter, so it would blend in with the others. We brought you here because we want your money. You haven't done anything to us. Who am I? If I told you, and you somehow escaped, you would turn us in. Now why would I make a stupid move like that?"
"I don't know, and I don't really care! I'll call me mates on you! They'll beat your ass so bad you won't know what happened!"
"Oh really? Bill... bring out the bait." The big burly man that had beaten Paul earlier went into another room, and came out with George. George's hands were handcuffed behind his back.
"Let me go you brute! I don't want to have anything to do with this!"
"Oh George, what did I get you into?" Paul cried.
"Oh, that's not it yet." the man in the tux said. Another big man came out with John, a gun to his head.
"Oh please sir, please dont pull that trigger!!! What do you want???" Paul moaned.
"Thats still not all." Another man, even bigger than the others, came out with Ringo in a wheelchair, tied up, and duct tape over his mouth. You could see our poor drummer was in distress from looking at his face, his eyes filled with fright.
"Oh Ringo, I didn't mean for this to happen to you!!!" Paul wailed. "What are you going to do to them?!?"
"You really are all looks and no brains, aren't you? We're gonna kill 'em! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!" The man with Ringo took him out of the wheelchair and laid him out on the table. He pulled a little black box out from somewhere, set it down, and opened it. The box contained many silver sharp medical tools. SURGICAL TOOLS! Ringo's eyes grew wide at the sight of them. We all know how much he's been through, he didn't need to have this on top of all of it. The big guy leaned against the table while holding a hand firm on Ringo's stomach so he couldn't get away. Ringo's eyes watered with pain as he did so.
"Oh please don't hurt them!!!!! What do you want from me????" Paul was nearly screaming now.
"I told you; we want your money."
"But... I don't have any on me!!! Go ahead, search me, strip search me if you want! I have nothing of any value with me! Just please don't hurt my friends!!!"
"Max?" The man in the tux said to the guy pinning Ringo. The guy nodded, and turned to Ringo. He untied the rope that was around his wrists, but then tied then to the edges of the table, so he was stretched out. He ripped the jacket he was wearing off, searched it, and found 50 bucks in one of the pockets.
"Come up with 1,000,000 dollars by 3pm, or you and your friends are doomed!!!"
Paul thought long and hard about this. "Well, he had 50 dollars in that one pocket, right? Well, c'mon Rich, youve gotta be loaded with all your rings and everything! Check the other jacket pocket."
Ringo was trying to say something, so Max ripped the duct tape painfully off his mouth. "You can look there, but there won't be nothing in it."
"Why not Rich?"
"Because I've got a hole in me pocket!" Sure enough, he did. The big man checked all the pockets in his pants, and in all, found 7,000 dollars. Max ripped the shirt off of him, and was about to take the scalpel and start cutting, when at the last minute, Paul yelled out, "WAIT!" Max stopped and looked up. "Aren't you going to search the other two???"
"Alright, go check the one with the handcuffs." They found about $15,000 on George.
"God, how much do you guys carry around with you???" Then they went to John, where they found the next 40,000. They were up to $62,000, but that wasnt a million yet. They still needed $48,000.
"Well, looks like you couldnt come up with the money. Max, go to work." Max turned back to Ringo, picked up the scalpel, and just as the cold, sharp metal touched his skin, Paul cried out "STOP!!!!!"
"What now McCartney?"
"His rings ought to be worth something!" Well, lucky for them, his 6 rings he'd been wearing came into good use, and they came up to the total of $40,000. They still needed $8,000 more though.
"Max? GET TO WORK ON THAT BEATLE!!!" He quickly leaned over Rich, got the scalpel down, and cut a tiny bit of skin, and Ringo screamed out in pain. He wasn't able to stay still since it hurt so bad, so the wriggling only made the tiny cut got torn open bigger. He was screaming, and crying, and Paul felt horrible since he knew he was about to lose one of his best friends. Just then...
"STOP!" Paul yelled out again.
"What the fuck is it now?"
"I DO have something that might be worth something. We all have them on, actually. Our ID bracelets are made of real gold, they could be melted down and made into something worth even more money." They took the bracelets, and because of the quality of the gold, each bracelet was worth $2,000. Now, lets see, $2,000 times 4,... that equals $8,000!
"Alright, alright, well let you go. YOU GOT VERY LUCKY THIS TIME, MCCARTNEY! But next time... YOU MIGHT NOT GET SO LUCKY! BWAHAHAHA!" the man in the tux said as he and the men got jet-packs strapped onto their backs from somewhere, and flew up and away through the ceiling just as the cops arrived. There was also a fire truck, and an ambulance. I guess theyd expected more to happen than what did.
"We heard a scream right before we could get in. Is everything alright?" one of the policemen asked.
"Um, no, everything is not all right. We were just robbed of a million dollars, our ID bracelets, and he also lost his rings. But Richard over there, the one on the table, they were going to kill him by illegal surgery. They started, then you came, and they split."
"Well, well get him to a hospital right away." Ringo was still wincing and crying from the pain when the paramedics got to him. They untied him, and they took a look at the huge cut.
"Hmm, looks pretty big. 5 inches long, and it looks pretty deep too. Better get him to the hospital for some stitches. Luckily, these tools look pretty sterile." They then carried him off into the ambulance, and drove off. John, Paul, and George all got new ID bracelets, and their rightful money, and Ringo got his stitches, a new ID bracelet, rings identical to the ones he'd lost, and the amount of money he'd lost. Everyone ended up all right in the end.
THE END! |
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