Beatales

(Esher, London, 1965)

(George is in the doorway, ready to go out)
- I'll be back later.
- All right, darling! (kisses him; he goes out)
(minutes later...)
(someone knocks on the door; Pattie answers it, it's Paul, carrying a guitar case)
- Oh, hello, Paul!
- Hello, Pat!
- Come in!
- Thanks. Is George home?
- Aw, he left ten minutes ago.
- Oh. I wanted to show him something. (he sits on the sofa)
- Really? What? (she sits next to him)
- Oh. Well, I made an arrangement for a song for our next record.
- Oh!
- Want to hear it?
- Sure!
(he takes the guitar from the case; strums it a little bit and starts playing the intro to "It's now or never")
- Elvis?
- Yeah, we never did any of his songs on our records, I think it's time we sort of paid a tribute.
- Really?
- Yeah, the others are thrilled about it!
- George has to hear it, then.
- Yeah!
- Uh-huh.
(he starts playing the song again; his voice gets very potent)
"It's now or never, come hold me tight..."
(Pattie is impressed)
- Wow!
(he looks at her and smiles)
"Kiss me my darling, be mine tonight..."
(he gets very serious)
"Tomorrow will be too late... It's now or never, my love won't wait."
(he starts looking at her)
"When I first saw you with your smile so tender (she smiles), my heart was captured, my soul surrendered..."
(sings the next verses with confidence and a twinkle in his eye, which she doesn't notice)
"I'd spend a lifetime waiting for the right time... Now that you're near, the time is here at last."
(he stops)
- Oh! Keep going!
- Really?
- Yes! You don't have to go now, do you?
- Not really. In fact, I was going to wait for George, if you don't mind.
- Absolutely!
- (he smiles) All right, then. (he starts playing the song where he left off)
"It's now or never, come hold me tight... Kiss me my darling, be mine tonight..."
(she is leaning on one hand and has a dreamy look on her face)
"Tomorrow will be too late... It's now or never, my love won't wait."
(she raises an eyebrow and has the impression that his face changed somehow, that he has a more cynical look on his face, but she changes her mind as soon as the next verse begins)
"Just like a willow, we would cry an ocean... If we lost true love and sweet devotion..."
(she realises she wasn't wrong when his voice becomes sort of husky for the next verses; she opens her eyes wide, surprised)
"Your lips excite me, let your arms invite me... For who knows when we'll meet again this way..."
(he has a "predator" look on his face, his eyes get bigger and darker; he sings the next verses looking deep into her eyes)
"It's now or never, come hold me tight... Kiss me my darling, be mine tonight..."
(she gulps; his eyes are half-closed and he suddenly has full, red lips)
"Tomorrow will be too late... It's now or never, my love won't wait..."
(he looks deep into her eyes; she breathes hard and fast)
"It's now or never, my love won't wait..."
(he's leaning towards her staring at her lips; she starts moaning)
"It's now or never, my love won't wait!"
- Oh, my God!
(he tosses the guitar aside; grabs her and gives her a long kiss; she does the same)
- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
(Pat gets up all of a sudden and sits on her bed for a while, breathing hard)
- Darling? Are you all right?
- What? (still startled)
- Was it a bad dream?
- No... just scary...
-----

The city was quite calm. You could hear the wind howling. He approached the saloon. A few people were there and they all looked at him when he came in. He recognized the faces. No one dared mention his name, they just mentioned in low voices that the fastest gunman in the whole West had arrived. Him and his fair girl, Miss M.

---
Tonight was the night. He would face a very demanding audience, he'd heard. But he would win them all, after all, he was J The Magnificent. The world had never seen such an amazing illusionist. With the assistance of the lovely Cey, he'd perform the magic trick of a lifetime: he'd make them all disappear...

---
The house was crowded. Many hungry faces staring at him. Some with pitiful looks on their eyes, some with angry looks. He knew one thing: he would work like a dog that night! Many people to wait on! Which would be a good thing, if the angry faces were less. He wished he had someone to help, but he didn't have anyone. His helper, his right hand, his one was far away tonight. Somewhere in the East. Oh, well. He'd do it alone. And he would do his job well!

---
He was happy. The last project had been a success! The moon wouldn't be far away. The life of an astronaut had it perks: parties, prestige, the acknowlegment of the Queen! But it could get quite lonely. His beautiful companion wasn't there. Maybe he'd get away from it walking among people. But he really wished he was on a desert beach, the sun on his face, the soft hums of the ocean... he tripped on something. What's this? A bottle? It looked like it was dirty, so he wiped it off with his hand. Suddenly he saw a cloud of smoke and a girl behind all that smoke. She started speaking!
- Oh, thanks! Oh, looks like you're my master! I live to serve you.
- Don't tempt me!
- Heehee!
(Someone approaches them)
- Hey! What's going on here?
- Look at him, darling! (she points to the man she was talking with before)
- Oh, come on. Did you two set it up?
- Nope!
- Of course not!
(A couple comes near the three of them)
- Hello! Hey, look at that!
- Awww, cute! Uh-oh! Sorry!
- Humpf!
(Another couple comes by)
- He-hey, this is quite an amusing situation!
- What a coincidence!
- Yeah, George, you're the odd one out.
- Shut up, John.
- Well, no one told you to dress up like a waiter!
- He didn't want to dress up. I had to convince him to put it on.
- I bet he made you dress like Jeannie...
- He did! I wanted to be a ballerina!
- Well, that was the least you could do after telling me two days before your birthday party that you planned it to be a costume one!
- Oh, dear, I didn't think you would mind!
- John, do me a favour.
- Yes?
- Make them all disappear, will you?
- That was my intention, but the stars aren't cooperating. Why don't you ask Ringo The Kid here?
- My loaded guns are in the other belt!
- Bloody half-arsed gunman you are!
- And you're a lousy waiter! Me and my fair M are still waiting for something to eat!
- Fine... Pat, can you get Ringo something to eat? Where is she?
- She's there, talking to Major... McCartney!
- Pat!
- ... (she doesn't answer)
- Jeannie!!!
- Yes, mast... oh, you're not my master. He's over there. (waves to Paul; he waves back)
- What?!
- Just joking, darling! (kisses him)
- People are hungry.
- So? You're the waiter!
- Come on, Jeannie, you've caused enough trouble around here. (Paul pulls her by the arm)
- Aaah!
- Hey!
- I'm going to help her in the kitchen, George!
- (he follows them) I'm going to supervise. I'm the butler, after all.
- Waiter.
- Yeah, whatever.
(In the sitting-room, after witnessing the previous scene)
- John, I think our lives as Beatles are quite nice...
- Yeah, I wouldn't trade it for any other life!

-----

London, 1968

Rinnnnng!
- Yes?
- Hello, Cyn.
- Paul! Uh... come in! (he does)
- How are you?
- Miserable.
- Aww... Sorry. Uh... for you. (gives her a rose)
- Aww. Thanks. (she half-smiles)
- Are you alone?
- Yes. (she puts the rose in a vase with some other flowers)
- Where's Julian?
- With mother.
- Mm.
- Tea? (offers the tea with tears in her eyes)
- Yes, pl- Oh, Cyn... come here. (hugs her)
- What have I done to deserve it, Paul? (hugging him back)
- Well... the question is... what haven't you done? Hehe.
- Oh...
- Sorry. That was uncalled for.
- (letting go of him) I guess I knew it was coming. I just didn't want to face it.
- Cyn-
- I know, I know, "everybody knew". (she throws herself on the sofa and wipes her tears, looking frustrated)
- No. (he sits next to her) He's just not the same anymore. I feel I can't talk to him. I don't know how!
- Really? (stops crying)
- Yes. Every time I try to talk to him, she's there. Or she isn't and he tells me that I can talk to her and she can give him the message!
- Prick!
- Sometimes I feel like punching him in the face, but I... can't. And it'd just cause more trouble.
- Did he tell you about the circumstances in which I found... them?
- He told me he casually said "good morning" while she was wearing your dressing gown!
- Exactly. As if nothing had happened! As if having a weird japanese woman in our house was an ordinary thing!
- Sod!
- I don't understand, Paul. I've been nothing but good to him.
- I know.
- I think I'm a good person.
- You are a wonderful person!
- Maybe I'm not good enough...
- No, Cyn. You are good enough for anyone. John just... he never knows what he wants.
- That's... right!
- Nothing's ever good to him.
- ... (she's looking at him)
- No one's ever good to him. When he finds someone, it'll be too late! (angrily)
- ... (listening intently)
- I just wish he did before. I just wish he realised he's...
- ...
- (looks at her) Lost it.
- Oh, Paul... (laughs a bit)
- I'm serious. You are kind and considerate. And intelligent. Clever. Artistic.
- Boring.
- No! We've had incredible conversations, you are anything but boring.
- Huh!
- Cyn.
- What?
- You are one of the most fantastic people I've ever met.
- Stop it, Paul! (laughs a bit again)
- I'm serious. Anyone who can't see how marvellous you are is blind to... life!
- Hahahaha! You're cute.
- And you're beautiful.
- Thanks. (smiles sincerely)
- Not at all. Look, Cyn... I know your separation is recent, but...
- Paul...
- And I may have had a couple of glasses of wine...
- Don't!
- How about it, Cyn? How about you and me getting married now?
- Hahahahaha!
- Ah, see? You're happy about it!
- Paul.
- Yes?
- You're the sweetest.
- And you're the kindest.
- Aww, that-
- And the most beautiful...
- Paul-
- ... (kisses her)
(a minute later)
- Oh, my...
- (whispers) Oh, shit...
- Uh...
- Cyn, I'm so sorry.
- I know.
- I'm going to... leave...
- I think it's important that you do.
- All right... Uh... See you, then!
- Bye!
- If you need anything... you can... (does the phone gesture with his hand)
- I know!
- (he's near the door) All right, would a hug be too inappropriate?
- Hehe, I guess not.
- (he smiles and hugs her; lets go after a few seconds) Bye...
- Bye, Paul. Thank you.
- Not at all.
(she watches him leave; closes the door)
- If only things had been different... hahahaha, that's silly!
(Paul is outside the house, watching her)
- Maybe if things had been different, Cyn... (pauses for a minute) Nah! (chuckles)

-----

Manchester, 1965

(morning; John knocks on Paul's hotel room door)
- Paul! Wake up!
- John?
- Yeah! (he opens the door and goes in) Why do you sound so gir- ohh... (he sees a pretty girl lying on Paul's bed)
- Good morning.
- Good morning! How are you?
- Tired.
- He's worn you out, has he?
- What?
- Where is he, by the way? He's late for breakfast.
- "He" who?
- Is he in the bathroom? (goes towards the bathroom) Paul!
- What?!
- Look, you're pretty, there's no reason to get so upset just because he's already downstairs and you're here.
- What the bloody hell are you talking about?
- Come on, it's no secret now, you should know, as a... fan and all.
- Secret? What?
- Yeah, you know... what do they say again? "Wam-bam-thank-you-ma'am"? Hehe...
- John, are you on something?
- No, love. I'm trying to spare you of the heartache. He's not the only one who can be sweet.
- Who the fuck is this "he"?!?
- Oh, you're cute, but you're tough too. You're probably just like him... don't even need to say goodbye...
- For the last time, John, because you're driving me nuts: who the hell are you talking about?
- Paul, of course! But in case you don't mind, here it comes: fancy banging another Beatle?
- WHAAAAAAAAT?!
- Didn't like the wording, then?
(she goes towards the bathroom; John sits on Paul's bed; he hears a muffled scream from the bathroom)
- AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
(John frowns)
- Are you all right in there?
(The girl comes out of the bathroom, wide-eyed)
- What happened, love?
- John...
- Yes? (flashes his best smile)
- Don't smile stupidly at me.
- You know, you sound awfully familiar...
- That's because I am...
(John tilts his head and squints; the girl sits beside him)
- What the fuck happened? Why am I like this?
- Oh, eewwwww! (John leaps from the bed)
- I know!
- Paul????
- Yes! God, I sound terrible!
- But you look great... oh, fucking hell, what am I saying?
- You hit on your best friend, John. (says this in a mocking tone)
- How did...
- That's what I'm trying to figure out!
- We have a TV appearance today! What are you going to do?
- I don't know, I... you won't help me?
- Knock knock! (George and Ringo come in)
- Why are you taking so lo- Oh, hello! (Ringo smiles at "the girl")
- (Paul frowns) Sod you, Ringo!
- I know you prefer Paul, but you don't have to be so bitchy about it!
- (John stifles a laugh) Ok, ready for a trip?
- What kind?
- (John looks at Paul and laughs) Kinda worse than our daily ones... but somehow, much more amusing!
- (Paul frowns again) ...
- Where's Paul, anyway?
- George, you're looking at him!
- WHAT?!
- Or shall we say "her"? Pfff...
- John, seriously.
- George, don't I look a teensy bit familiar to you?
- Long black hair... thick eyebrows... "stuck-up" nose and big teeth... Paul!
- Aaah! (he buries his face in his hands)
- Paul, is that really you?
- Yes, Ringo! Who else would I be?
- No one, evidently... just a girl in PMS! (the others giggle)
- How did this happen?
- By the satisfied look on my face, you can tell I know it, in details!
- Yes, PMS all right!
- George, stop staring at my... mmm. (He looks down his own shirt) Blimey, I'd be staring at me! Whoa! Wait a minute! (He goes towards the bathroom and checks himself in the mirror) I'm hot!
(the others roll their eyes)
- Yeah, you're the sexiest, hottest woman who can't leave this hotel room.
- Wait a minute, I've got an idea. (John takes the phone receiver)
- John, what are you doing?
- Yes, reception? Can you please send a bottle of scotch, a glass, some biscuits and... a maid's uniform to 1031? (...) Yes, it's most urgent. (...) Brilliant. Thanks.
- A maid's uniform?
- So Paul can leave the room. (he smiles)
- A bottle of scotch?
- I think the only way we can get you out of here in a maid's uniform is getting you drunk, Paulie.
- And the biscuits?
- I'm hungry.
- Mmm...(Paul starts crying)
- Paul, you've got some liquid discharge coming out of your eyes...
- I can't help it! I'm sad!
- You shouldn't cry a river just because you're... sad!
- Be a girl for five minutes when you've been a man all your life and you'll know what I'm sad about!
- Okay, that was weird.
- Here, Paul. (Hands him a handkerchief)
- Thanks, Ringo.
- I just hate to see girls cry.

-----

(London, 1964)

(Middle of the night; George is heading towards the kitchen)
- Stupid idea... "Stay for one more, George, you're not going to abandon us now, are you?" "I would if my name was Phyllian Rectum. Hey, wait a minute! Hahaha!" Aaaaaaaarghh! Sodding headache!
(tump! tump! tump!)
- What's that?
(tump! tump! tump!)
- What the...
(he's in the kitchen)
- Paul?
(Paul is banging his head on the wall)
- PAUL!
(he keeps on doing it)
- Paul, stop it! (George pulls him)
- Hello.
- What are you doing?
- ... (Paul looks at him with a puzzled expression)
- Paul? Are you ok?
- ... (Paul stares at him)
- All right. When you wish to talk, I'm all ears... (George says that with a mocking tone in his voice, near the refrigerator)
- Hey, who's Paul?
- Ha. Hahahahahahaha...
- What?
- Heh. That's an old one. You don't expect me to fall for that, do you?
- What's your name?
- Go to bed, Paul. (George takes a sip from a glass of milk)
- Paul... you keep calling me that, it must be me.
- Yes, that would be you, now, go to bed and stop bugging me!
(Paul keeps looking around the kitchen; he suddenly looks at the ceiling and keeps staring.)
- PAUL!
- Yes?
- What are you doing?
- Huh?
- All right. I'm off to bed. See you!
(Paul tilts his head and just looks at George with a blank expression on his face)
The next morning...
- Uaaaaaah!...
- Morning, George!
- Hey, George.
- Hey. Where's Paul?
- Must be still sleeping.
- He isn't up yet?
- No, why?
- Hah. He was all lost here in the kitchen yesterday. It was sort of amusing.
- Lost?
- Yeah! Sort of staring at nowhere. He looked like a sanatorium refugee. Hahahahaha, it was fun!
(Ringo and John look at each other with puzzled expressions)
- Hahahahahahahaha!
- George. Are you sure YOU aren't the one losing his mind?
- I'll go fetch the paper.
(John leaves)
- You should've seen him, Ringo. He looked dafter than ever!
- Are you sure you weren't... dreaming?
- I'm telling you, I-
(John comes to the kitchen, wide-eyed, holding the newspaper under his arm)
- John...
- You won't believe what I saw...
(They all get out of the kitchen and go outside the house)
- Oh, my.
- Pffff... heeheehee...
(George looks at Ringo and gives him a "Told you" smile)
- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! (John explodes in laughter)
- JOHN! Hehehe. Stop it, there's something wrong with Paul!
- Yeah, his tiny lit-
- SHUT UP! Let's bring him insi- let's wake him up.
- Whatever possessed him to sleep NAKED outside the house?
- I told you he was weirder than usual.
- Paul! (Ringo pokes him on the shoulder)
- Paul, wake up! (John kicks him)
(the other two look at him with disapproving looks)
- Sorry. (he smiles)
- PAUL! WAKE UP! (George yells)
- PAUL!
- Let me. (John approaches Paul and gets on his knees near his friend's ear)PAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUL!
- AAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!
- Done.
- (Paul looks at his friends with a lost expression) Who are you?
- (George yawns) I'll go finish my breakfast. (he goes inside the house)
- Paul?
- You ok? Want a blanket?
- I'm going to... uaaah! go to the bank. I've got a lot of work to do.
- At the bank?
- I should put some clothes first, huh?
- That'd probably be safer for you.
(he gets up and stops in front of the door)
- Aaaah! Oh, my God! (an old lady passes by and sees Paul in that state; he casually looks at her and turns around again; John and Ringo stifle a laugh)
(Paul stares at the door)
- Uh...
- Let's go inside, Paul.
- What?
- You live here.
- I do?
- Yes.
(they push him inside)
- Okay. Come clean: what have you been taking?
- What?
- Listen: for a person to...
- Who are they?
- Who?
- There!
(Paul points to a picture of The Beatles, hung on the wall)
- (John looks at Ringo) Ringo, would you judge me if I had a laughter breakdown?
- (Paul approaches the picture) Hey, this is you!(he looks at the picture and points to Ringo) And this is you!(does the same and points at John)
- What a breakthrough!
- And that's the bloke who was talking to me last night! But... "The Beatles"? What... what... are you some kind of gang?
- Uh... don't you recognise the fourth one there? (Ringo goes towards the picture)
- No!...
(John gets near them with a mirror in his hand; he pokes Paul)
- Paul!
- (Paul turns around and sees himself in the mirror) AAAAAAAH!
- AAAAAAAHHH! HAHAHAHAHAHA! I've always wanted to do that!
- That's... that's me!
- Such a discovery!
(George comes to the sitting-room, eating a piece of toast)
- Hey, the tea is getting cold...
- Forget breakfast, this is much more entertaining!
- You're not trying to tell me that you believe him, are you?
- George, look at him, he's completely lost!
- You two are dafter than him!
- George, he's totally off his rocker!
- Ok, whatever. I ate the last piece of toast since you sods don't want it. Aaand I'm off to the shower.
- Take Mr Memoryless with you, will you?
- (he gives them a look) Come on, Paul.
- Are we a cult of some sort? (they're going up the stairs)
- Yes, we sacrifice swedish virgins in exchange for emerald stones.
- Who do we offer them to?
- Jewellry salesmen.
- That's a dirty business.
- You're telling me! Go to your room, Paul.
- Uhh...
- The second one on the left.
- Really?
- Yes.
- Oh, well. (he goes in)
(...)
- John.
- Yeah?
- Seriously: what do you think happened?
- He looked sort of out of it, didn't he?
- He did.
- You know what, Ringo?
- What?
- I have no idea.
Three hours later...
- Ok, fellas, ready to go?
- Where's Paul?
- Is he still up there?
- Let's see. (Ringo goes up the stairs and knocks on Paul's door)
- Paul! Are you still in there?
- Yes!
(Two seconds later, a rather ragged Paul comes in through the front door)
- Good morning, good morning! Lovely day, isn't it?
(John and George look at each other with puzzled looks and then at Ringo, who looks at them with the same kind of look on his face)
- Let me just quickly wash my face, we have a long day today! Hehe!
(they stare at Paul as Ringo opens the door to his room; it's empty; he comes back down with a worried look on his face; meanwhile, Paul is going up the stairs)
- Hey, Ring! (Ringo stares at him but he continues to go up the stairs, whistling a happy melody; he goes into the bathroom; peeks through the bathroom door as the other three slam the front door shut, having just left)

-----

Liverpool, 1956


- Wow... wow! Imagine the things you could do with that, John!
(a man approaches him)
- Nice guitar, isn't it, young man?
- Fantastic!
- The incredible sounds one can get with that...
- Exactly!
(...)
- As a good salesman, Brian, you should talk to possible future clients, like that man ouside the shop.
- You mean, the good-looking one, wearing a leather jacket?
- No, the one beside him. That's Jim McCartney, he played in a jazz band.
- That's interesting!
- Always be polite, never push any product on him and give him your full attention.
- Yes, sir.
(...)
- So, do you play the guitar?
- I... sort of... yes, I do.
- Mm. I have a son who's into guitars too.
- Really?
- Yes. The boy plays it so much that we are starting to think it's an appendix of his own body.
- Hehehe.
- I tell him, 'well, as long as it doesn't interfere with school!'
- School... just a daft phase we have to go through in life...
- I beg your pardon.
- Well, yeah, I mean, you're not going to learn what to do with your life there.
- Listen here, my boy...
- And what you do learn in school, you can just pick up a book and read about it.
- Oh, I pity the future of this country!
- Excuse me!
- Yes?(together)
- Can I help you with something?
- Yes, this guitar. Could I have a look?
- Yes, sir.
- I was thinking of giving it to my son... (gives John a look; John glares at him)
- By all means!
(He goes inside the shop; John walks away)
- Stupid old geezer!
TUMP!(he runs into a boy more or less his height and age)
- Oh, sorry!
- Sorry, mate!
(the boy goes into the shop)
- Hey, dad, here I am. Sorry I'm late.
- Oh, hello, son. So, what do you think? (shows him the guitar)
- Wow, it's fantastic!
- Isn't it? And to think it could have gone to some arrogant brat!
- Really?
- Yes! He said he plays the guitar... I hope you don't get mixed with the likes of him, Paul.
- Dad, you know me. I can't stand arrogant people.
-----

 - I'm a loooooooooooo- wtfomfg *waves arms frantically*
- What's up, John?
- Forgot the lyrics?
- They're not that hard, y'know.
- Nothing.
- You just had a fit and it was nothing.
- I didn't have a fit.
- You just nearly punched me and George at the same time.
- You were running for the hills, mate.
- Can we just start again? It's not like we don't do it all the time.
*they look at each other puzzled*
- A moth.
- What?
- It was a moth.
- That tiny little butterfly there?
- It's a moth.
- That tiny ickle winnie little thing there?
- It's a m-o-t-h.
- Ok, that tiny little harmless moth over there?
- It came right at me.
- Nature is attacking you... I see.
- First girls, now nature. Life is not easy being a Beatle and all.
- It's all in the mind.
- Can you just shut up and carry on?
- *voice from the outside* Ok lads, enough.
- In a one, a two, a three...
- I'm a loooooooooser.
- Yep.
- I'm a loooooooooser.
- Yes, you are.
- And I'm not what I appear to be
- A girl.
- Paul.
- Yes.
*others stop playing*
- Dear, dear, Paul.
- Yes, John.
- CAN YOU SHUT THE F*#% UP AND DO YOUR F&%$ING JOB, dear?
- Sure, darling.
- Thank you.
- John.
- Yes.
- It's coming.
- *rolls eyes*
- John. Seriously. It's coming.
- *looks a bit worried*
- Right at you.
- Where?
- Look up.
- Where?
- A bit more.
- WHERE? 
- Actually, you can look down again, it's at the mic, you nearly swallowed it.
- GAH! *jumps back, trips on wires, knocks down spare bass and lands on Ringo*
- George! Neil! Can someone do something? Please?

*after a small break*

- Unfortunately we can't stay in the studio much longer.
- Why don't we just go over to my place to finish this off? We'll save up some time trying to get those chords right tomorrow.
- No problem.
- Sure.
- But mum is having those people from the church over for tea, so we'll have to stay in the basement. And behave.
- Oh, I had good times in that basement...
- Yeah, that's why mum doesn't like you as much.
- What are you saying, she loves me?
- You think everyone loves you, Paul.
- Not everyone, just the females.
- Try not to speak of my mum as one of your females please.
- Will do.
- Should we be off then?

*At George's*

- Let's play Kansas, it'll sound good.
- Well, it's a one two three four...  
- Well, I'm going down to get some...
- HAHAHAHA
- We better not put that.
- Why not?
- Specially with you singing?
- I can see it already! "18+ album released by the Beatles"
- I don't know why they can and we...
- Is that a G?
- I don't know, I think it goes like this...
- But what is that...
- I don't know but it sounds good.
- GAH!
*all stop, all stare*
- Holy mother of...!
- Why are we getting religious now?
- Are we dying?
- Not that I know of, unless it's the apocalypse and they forgot to warn me.
- A.. a... RAT! There! You see? The boxes moving?
- A rat?
- Yes, George, a rat! Isn't this cleaned? I knew this was a bad idea.
- First a moth, and now a rat?
- Moths are disgusting ok?
- AND RATS?
- Oh, Mr.-Moths-are-cute-and-John-is-silly, deal with it now.
- They... they have diseases!
- Mr.- I'm-so-good-fearless-and-I-can't-think-of-anything-right-now
- But...
- Go talk to it Paul, maybe it's a female.
- But...
- Go on... *laughs*
- It's a rat!
- You're just being prissy, now.

- Well! Are you going to sit there all day?
- Yes.
- Aren't you going to do something useful instead?
- Mm-m.
- Darling, I know it's rough, but you can't just sit there all day.
- Why not?
- You are a gifted young man, for one.
- You're just saying that.
- You know that's not true. You've got brilliance pouring through every pore!
- Oh... thanks.
- If others can't appreciate that, then... it's their loss!
- (he smiles)...
- I just wish you'd get up!
- Oh... What's the point?... I can't do anything alone and I can't be in the same room with them for more than half an hour, we start arguing!
- Shh... come here...
(he gets up and sits near her)
- And it's over the silliest things too! Like "Why did you pick up the tambourine???"
- Oh, my!
- And it always, always ends up being my fault! "I picked the tambourine because Paul said there was going to be tambourine in the song!"
- I see...
- I'm so tired of that... I catch myself apologising for things I didn't even do!
- That's unfair...
- It's so unfair! I try hard to do what's best for the band, but I seem to screw things up every time!
- Oh, darling... (caresses his cheek)
- And the more I do, the deeper I sink! I'm almost out of breath!
- Aww...(she kisses his head)
- And you know what's worse? (he lies down and rests his head on her lap)
- What?
- They hate me...
- Oh, no! No...
- But I love them!...
- I know... (she is still caressing him)
- I don't think I can live without them! (he starts crying)
- Oh, God...
- What am I going to do??? (still crying)
- Darling, listen.
- Mmm.
- They're your friends! They don't hate you!
- They do...
- Shh! Don't say that!
- It's true...
- Look at me. (he does) The time will come when they will see that you're doing what's best for them.
- ...
- They'll see you won't abandon them just because they don't care right now.
- ... (still crying)
- They will see you love them and then they'll thank you. You just have to let things run their natural course!
- You really think so?
- Yes, darling. Just let it be.
- Yeah...
- (she smiles)...
- What would I do without you?
- (she smiles again) That's what I'm here for.
- I love you, mum.
- I know, Paul. I love you too. Happy birthday.

-----

Liverpool, 1958

- Detention for you, Mr McCartney! You're lucky not to get expelled!
- ... (he nods)
- And you, Miss Hollinger! You've disappointed me!
- ... (she cries)
- What you did was a serious offense! What on Earth do you think this is? A nightclub?
(they don't say anything; the girl is still crying)
- Your parents will know about this. The secretary is already on the phone.
- (thinking) I'm fucked!
- (thinking) Oh, noooo!
(a young woman comes in)
- You called, headmaster?
- Yes, Ms Carter. I'd like you to have a word with Miss Hollinger here.
- Wendy! What are you doing here?
- She'll tell you all about it.
- And... Paul! What did you do this time?
- Why don't you ask Miss Hollinger!
- Uh-oh... Now I know why I was required...
- Yes, Ms Carter. The children seem to open up to you more. Besides, you're a Science teacher.
- Uh-huh!
- These two need to learn more about... scientific facts!
- Absolutely! Come with me, Miss Hollinger.
- Miss? What happened to "Wendy"?
- Dear, pray that your name won't be Mrs McCartney in a few months! (looking at him)

---

- Mr Harrison!
- Yes! (startled)
- (class) Hahahahahahahahaha!
- Can you tell us the difference between the direct object and the indirect object?
- Uh... the direct object is... when... you put your finger on the 3rd fret...
- What?
- (with a mischievous smile on his face) On the A string and...
- Hahahahahaahahahahaahah!
- Settle down, class! Mr Harrison, you clearly weren't paying attention!
- I was!
- Then what are you going on about?
- Something better than this grotty class...
- What did you say?
- Hehehe...
- That's it. To the headmaster's office with you!
- Theindirectobjectrequiresaprepositionandthedirectobjectdoesn't!
- Hmm.
- See, I WAS paying attention.
- All right. May this be a warning to you. Next time, there will be no next time!
(the teacher turns around and he makes an obscene gesture behnd her back; the entire class laughs again)
- Class! (she glares at George and he smiles at her, mocking innocence)
(...)
- Here's your report, Mr Harrison.
- A D?!
- Yes.
- Why???
- Your manners in the classroom count, Mr Harrison!
- Aaah, sodding hell...

---

- Yes, very good, Miss Hunt!
(...)
- Excellent, Mr Lewis!
(...)
- Uh... Mr Lennon, perhaps it needs to be a little bit darker?
- All right... (thinking) Stu, why did you have to get ill and miss class, you prick?
(...)
- Yes, that's it, Mr Davies!
(...)
- Mr Lennon...
- What? It's dark enough, isn't it?
- Yes, well, I'd say it's a little too dark now. It seems that you've run out of black paint, haven't you?
- No, but I'm thinking of a splendid way to get rid of it. (says this with a cynical look on his face)
(...)
- Oh, Miss Abbott, that's wonderful!
- Thank you, sir!
- Mr Lennon, you're not capturing the soul of the...
- ...
(he pours the glass of tinted water and breaks his canvas on the teacher's head; throws his tubes of paint all around; the class is astonished)
- How's that for capturing the essence???
- Out of my classroom!!!
- Great! This fucking class was stupid and useless anyway!!! (he goes out the door and slams it)

---

- Paul?
- ... (he goes into the house looking crest-fallen)
- Are you ok, son?
- Yes, dad... (in a low voice)
- You don't look so good.
- ... (he goes upstairs and comes back with a guitar)
- See you, dad...
- Where are you going?
- Out! (he closes the front door)

---

- George? What are you...
- Shhhh! (he's almost at the door)
- You know, your school's phoned.
- (he turns around and looks at his sister) Oh, no...
- Dad answered it...
- Oh, nooooo...
(they hear a sound of someone coming down the stairs)
- Ahhh, that's him, now!
- ... (his sister gives him a "What are you going to do? look)
- Cover for me, Louise.
- Me? I've got nothing to do with it! I'm just visiting!
- Come on, for old times' sake!
- George...
- Pleeeease? (gives her a "puppy dog" look)
- Get out of here, go!
- Thanks, Loo! (gives her a kiss on the cheek and runs out the door, guitar on a shoulder)

---

(late afternoon; we see Paul sitting under a tree in a park, strumming his guitar melancholically and singing something along)
- Waiter, give me a drink, please, my mind needs to be at ease, I'm in deep, deep trouble because of something so improbable...
- Paul?
- Heyyy, George!
- (he sits next to his friend) New song?
- Nah... just silly words put together.
- (he studies his friend's face) What's the matter?
- Nothing.
- Yeah, right.
- It's nothing! And what are you doing here, anyway?
- Running away...
- From the old man?
- Oh, yes...
- What happened this time?
- Another D in English...
- Classroom manners?
- Hee...
- Haha!
- You're running away too, aren't you?
- Well...
- I knew it! What was it now?
- ... (he looks at his friend and smirks a little)
- Come on...
- You know Wendy Hollinger?
- Uh... Reddish-blonde hair, green eyes, freckles?
- Yeah...
- She's delectable! What about her?
- (gives his friend a look) ...
- No! You and her?
- I got detention...
- You got caught???
- That's why they gave me detention, George.
- (loud) Bloody hell!
- Yeah, it can't get bloodier...
- John! (together)
- Hello. (he takes a puff of a cigarette)
- You look...
- ...Not good.
- What happened?
- I dropped out of Art Basics.
- What?
- I thought you liked it!
- So did I! Turns out they're a bunch of retards that know nothing about real art.
- Cor, what a shitty day!
- What are you down about?
- School too, what else?
(he hands his cigarette to George while Paul begins to play blues notes on his guitar)
- (John begins singing) Once I lived a life of a millionaire...
- Spent all my money, didn't have any care...
- Took all my friends out for a mighty good time, bought bootleg liqueur, champagne and wine...
- Then I began to fall so low, lost all my friends, had nowhere to go...
- I get my hands on a pound again, I'll hang on to it till that old hag grins...
- Hahahahahahahahah! (together)
- Hey, look!
- What?
- Isn't that the drummer for the Hurricanes?
- I think so...
- Bloody hell, he's coming over!
- Don't scream, Paul.
- Shut up!
("the drummer" approaches them)
- Hey, got one to spare?
(John hands his packet to him; he takes a cigarette and gives it back to John)
- Cheers.
- Bad day, huh?
- Yeah... got fired.
- Too bad!
- Eh, heck with them. Thanks for the cig, mate.
- Yeah.
- See you around. (he leaves)
- See you.
(the three of them keep watching until he goes 'round a corner.)

-----

 I looked at her one day, and she looked just gorgeous. I liked the way she looked down because she was shy, and how her hair would slowly cover her face in what seemed to be rays of sunshine. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to sound corny. But I also liked her smile and how childish and thoroughly sweet it was. And the way that every time I got the impression that smile was just for me. And how somewhere in that girly smile she knew. She was really something and that was the only way I could describe her. It was almost frustrating. Something. It sounded accurately vague in a way only we could be. I tried to be funny and now I know that I probably failed miserably, but she still laughed. Maybe at the silliness of it, but she did and that was enough for me to keep trying. I complimented her. She was used to that and for the first time I didn't know what to say. I invited her over and she said no and for the second time I didn't know what to say. I realised I wanted to understand her and maybe she was something worth fighting for. Days, then weeks... months, then years. Sometimes I felt she was like an old friend I've been missing and that I just didn't want to be apart again. Sometimes I felt she was a playmate, someone I would go to with my bike on a lazy afternoon. At the same time, she was just the most gorgeous woman I had ever met. Charming and sexy, and she looked down and she looked even more gorgeous. The clothes she wore, the way they looked in her. Not anyone else, but her. It was always her. I know we were young and young people are silly and they make mistakes. But she'll always be... how can I say.... she was always the one to leave me speechless. But today still, all I have to do is think of her.