Get It Straight, Or Say Good Night

Flames

"Gear party yeah?" Paul stood by the oak tree in the yard watching the flames rise out of the drum, a homemade affair but it did the job, warming those that had a chill. George smashed the beer bottle he had in the fire and was yelled at by the host, a sixteen-year-old tosser from school.

"Harrison, stop breaking stuff" Bobby yelled, making George laugh stupidly at the short fat loser who had not even thought what would happen if he opened his parent's neat and tidy terrace home to the entire population of youth from the south, and perhaps also north, Liverpool area.

"Dot fetch another bevy for me, luv" Paul ordered his infatuated love de jour. Dot was mousy, short and nicely rounded. She would bend over backwards to be in his company and that wasn't good, he was bored with her constant fussing and having to be attached to him like a leech, but she was handy as a runner.

"Is Louie comin?" Paul asked George across the flames. He liked Louie but wasn't sure if he should push their nice friendship to something a little more heated, it would push the boundaries with  Georgie no doubt too.

Being George's sister, it would be a tad messy if he and her were to ahmmm and then breakup. George would rightly be pissed off and a sour puss to boot. Also not forgetting Lou would likely beat the shit out of him too, Paul grinned as the last thought crossed his mind, she was a tough strong northern bird.

Paul straighten his face in case Lennon noticed and had a go at his grinning at nothing. Although, he noticed, by the looks of it, John was fighting in his own head about something himself.

John had forgotten, finally forgotten around mid-afternoon, as he perfected the single in the studio. Take nine or ten or was it thirteen, a bloody heap any-hoot. He thought back to the amount of fussing over the guitars and harmonies but it sounded right pretty when they all had stood in Mister Martins control room and heard what would be going onto that black round piece of prized vinyl he so desperately wanted. Only now, near midnight in the backyard of some twat's place did he remember the bed sheets and blood. Guiltily he shook the image from his head while honing in onto George's reply to Paul over the flickering flames of the searing hot fire.

"Nah, she went to Manchester for something or other, maybe to see our cousin Pat.... Pat the Prat" George heckled Pat the Prat even though she wasn't about "Don't like her, she smells funny"

"When's she back?"

"Why Lennon, you're not thinking 'bout shagging my sister are you" George shuddered, what was it with these blokes and wanting his sister, like she was a woman or somthin'.

"No George, she just mentioned she was coming alrigh'" John leered at the kid over the flames he just wouldn't grow up in some respects "George mate, you do know she is female don't you and will be shagged at some point and even have plenty of orgasms I suspect" John laughed loudly as George dry retched.

"When's she back?" John repeated. Even as he watched George slap his face to remove the image John had managed to conger up and throw into his head, he wondered what the hell had happened to Lou.

"I don't know John, why don't you ask Ma if your so desperado to see darlin' Louie Louie" George rolled his eyes, tossed a second bottle into the fire and marched off toward the house for another bevvie.

John decided he couldn't do nought with her running off to some smelly cousins place he would have to bide his time and wait another day or two.