With The Beatles

Take 10

RINGO's P.O.V.

After my encounter with the thief at the 7-11 platform, I decided to go back to him as soon as Jude leaves for school.

Don't get the wrong idea, this'll be my first time to leave alone during daytime. It's George and John who does the most exploring whilst Paul has his own way of discovering things on that big, coloured television machine.

As I arrived at the said convenience store, I quickly headed to the platform that leads to an empty alley. Suddenly remembering the moment my face fell flat on this ground, the platform explains how I felt the sudden change in land.

There were also no streetlights in the alley, no wonder it was so dark when we ran through here.

"So you came back huh?" The raspy voice came. "Didn't I tell you that you wouldn't want to cross paths with me again?" Behold was the man, leaning against the wall, still wearing the clothes I saw him from earlier this morning.

Looks like someone thinks he's scary. Not for Ringo today. "Yeah, you're right. I don't want to see you again. But I do want my rings back, that's my only reason."

His brown eyes narrowed down at me, "Is that how important your rings are? The more you come to me to get your rings back makes me want to keep them to myself even more."

"What?"

"They're valuable, aren't they?" The thief wiggled his brows at me. I shrugged, "They came from fans, mister. It's the reason why they call me Ringo."

"Ringo?" He chuckled, "What a cute name. But no! Am not buying it, how did you even gain some fans? From drumming lady's arses?"

I sighed in frustration, looks like we have to do it the hard way. "Look, I'm not really in the mood to joke around right now. If you could just be a good boy for once and give me my rings?"

The guy pouted, "Don't you want something better?" I looked at him, studying his facial expression. "I mean, don't you want your money back, too? The night before I stole your rings, I stole your money first."

Getting tired of his charade, I said, "Just cut to the chase here and give me back my rings!"

He clicked his tongue, "You don't get it, do you?" He snickers, "What makes you think that I'll give them back to you just like that? I'm a thief and you're a nobody. What do you have against me? Your fans?"

I groaned upon realizing there's no use talking to this guy. I can't just tell him that I'm Ringo Starr of the Beatles, it'll be a huge blow. George and John had their own way of undercover, why not I do the same to this unjustifiable thief?

"Fine, I'm..." C'mon, Richard, think! "I'm good at cards!

He gave me a stern look. "Cards?"

"Yeah! Me and my mates used to play 'em a lot whenever we're on tour." I explained proudly. Still not satisfied, he said, "Tour? You and your friends are tour guides?"

I gulped, another wrong turn there. "I-I guess we can put it that way. We... travel to places and give people entertainment as what they pay us for."

Not bothering to ask anymore questions, he insisted, "Fine. Let's make a deal, Ritchie."

"Me name's not—"

"We'll play cards. If you win, I'll give your rings back for free." I smiled, "Well that seems like a good ide—"

"But if I win," I swallowed another lump in my throat as he bended towards me. Man, he's scary. He doesn't even look like British or American. "You pay me or you'll never get your precious rings back."