Ringo wiggled in his seat. This press conference was going longer than he thought, and his bladder got fuller by the minute.
"Mr. Starr, what is your opinion on 'What Goes On'?"
"It's, uh, pretty good. I like it."
"Well, that's all for today. It was a pleasure to interview you."
"Christ, am I glad that's over. I really gotta use the loo."
"The hotel's not that far from here. You should make it in time," John replied.
"Wait. We're not stopping?"
"Why would we?"
"I just thought we could get a snack or something."
"You're starting to sound like me, Ritchie!" George giggled.
"Can we get in the car? For Christ's sake! I can't hold it forever!"
The whole ride home Ringo bounced and squirmed. Eventually, he gripped his crotch as a last ditch attempt to hold his distressed bladder.
"Paul, look at Rings. He's really gotta go," John whispered.
"Good God!" he giggled quietly.
Once they got back to their room, John snatched poor Ringo's arm just as he was about to go to the bathroom.
"Fuck off, John! I really gotta go pee!"
"Lean your back against the wall. Me and the boys wanna try something."
"Can't it wait?" he begged with his legs crossed.
"Nope," and he pressed against the older boy's bladder.
"Johnny! Stop! Please?!"
"Why? Can't you be a big boy and hold your wee wee?"
Paul at first thought it was funny, but now he was getting pissed off.
"John Winston Lennon! Leave him alone!" he snapped.
"Why should I?" he smirked just as poor Ritchie lost control of his bladder.
"I'm so sorry, Ritchie. Come on, I'll clean you up in the loo," Paul told him.
"I hate you, Johnny!" he snapped as tears streamed down his blushing face.
George grabbed a towel to clean up the puddle, also mad at John.
Once Ringo was all clean, he flopped on his bed and read a magazine.
"Rings, listen, I'm sorry about what I did earlier. Can you forgive me?"
"Yeah, I forgive you, Johnny."
"Thanks."
And they forgot the memory in a tight hug.
