The Ballad Of John And Ringo

John Lennon OwOs Ringo Starr

John had never imagined to have anyone fall for him. He was a seemingly unapproachable hippy, with his goofy floral frill and incredibly lengthy legs, and his small rabbit-like teeth. And yet, every time the short little man was in eyeshot John noticed him staring longingly, adorably, in his direction.

It was an average day in Liverpool—they came there every few weeks from Pepperland to gather supplies that could only be found above the sea—and John sensed the familiar stare. He turned around, seeing the little blue-dressed man on the other side of the road, senselessly grinning. He couldn't ignore him again, not today.

"Hey, who are you there?" John called over as he crossed the road. The little man (who was about the size of a child, oddly), gasped when he realized he had John's attention. He took a second to respond.

"R-Ringo Starr, sir. Sorry for staring."

"Ringo Starr you say?" John brought a hand to his chin. "I have a friend named Ringo Starr. He's back on the ship. Are you related?"

"I don't know of any other Ringo Starrs?" Ringo responded with a head tilted to the side.

"Curious..." John pondered, "you do have quite a different resemblance to the Ringo Starr I know. Much cuter. But it must be a coincidence."

"Hah, yeah." Ringo rubbed his heel into the ground and held his hands behind his back shyly.

"Well it's nice to meet you, Ringo Starr." John offered his hand. Ringo let out a rather loud, goofy laugh and shook it. The laugh could have been obnoxious to anyone, and yet John was endeared.

"Say, do you know any good pubs around?" John asked, "I could really go for a pint of milk (he couldn't really drink anything with alcohol, for the kiddies' sake)." Ringo could have sworn that John had winked at him.

"Sure, there's a gay bar around the corner called Norwegian Wood, if you'd like to go there."

"Sounds jolly," John smiled and allowed Ringo to guide him to the location. Something shiny caught his eye on the way, and he released Ringo's hand from his to crouch and check the small object on the ground.

"Oh my, what a fine pair of sunglasses!" He carefully placed them on Ringo's head, resting them snuggly between his unrealistically large nose. "You look like a real mocker now!" Ringo smiled and let out another of his unique giggles.

They arrived at Norwegian Wood with wide smiles, still hand in hand.

"Hey there!" said the man behind the counter. "Oh, you look like my father?"

"Do I? What is your name?" John asked, intrigued.

"Julian Lennon."

"Hm. You must be mistaking me for your father, whereas I'm more likely a cousin or even some obscure uncle anyway."

"Ah, that doesn't make sense but okay," Julian agreed. "So, what can I get for you and your boyfriend?" Ringo blushed madly at the comment, and John made a tiny, attractive satisfied whining noise.

"Two pints of milk, please."

...

By now the others were probably finished their errands, but John was in no rush to get back to the submarine. Ringo, tired from the milk, was sleeping in his lap, his delicate eyes closed behind the shades he was still wearing, even indoors. The little man certainly had a way with words, or, lack of them.

Suddenly, Ringo stirred.

"How are ya, darling?" John said without a second thought.

"Oh! I'm so comfortable. You're nice to sleep on... Say, John, where did you come from?"

"Oh, just the yellow submarine. I used to live here as well, but now I work to maintain Pepperland—that's a mystical land of meanies and nowhere men under the sea." Ringo seemed a little bewildered at all the information.

"Wow, that sounds like a long ways away. No wonder I don't see you around often." His head dropped disappointedly. John felt a stab at his heart, and brought Ringo's chin up to his eyes with a passionate hand.

"Oh Ringo, but I don't need to go back do I? Pepperland still has the others. I could run away and we could live together—if you at all would like that. Ringo looked into John's eyes dreamily.

"John, I'd want nothing more!" A patron beside them glanced over.

"😤," he sneered at them.

"Don't mind Dhani," Julian laughed, "he just broke up, he's jealous to see a couple that's meant to be.

"😤," Dhani sneered again, turning his back.

"Well then, Ringo, shall we go?" Ringo nodded.

"I can bring you to my flat after you tell your friends that you're staying here."

"Sounds good, dear."

The two had made their way through the streets and were just a few blocks from the harbor. Suddenly, Ringo tripped (on himself, probably,) and his nose smacked into the ground. John gasped, reaching down to help him to his feet. Ringo looked back up, revealing that he'd chipped a hole into the lenses of the sunglasses.

"Are you and your nose alright dear?" John whimpered.

"They're alright when you're here," Ringo purred, reaching out to be picked up. John had no trouble carrying Ringo with his incredibly long legs, and cradled him lovingly the rest of the way. Ringo refused to take off the broken sunglasses, hoping to appear cool in John's eyes.

As they arrived at the docked submarine, Paul noticed them and ran over.

"John, we've been looking for you for hours! Don't you run off on us again, we never can tell for sure when meanies will strike while we're away from Pepperland!" John shook his head, lowering Ringo down.

"Paul, I've made up my mind and I'm going to stay here in Liverpool." Paul looked like he was about to object, but then glanced down at Ringo, who hugged John's large pant leg affectionately. Paul's face softened.

"Oh, you two are such a cute couple! I see, it's simply meant to be. I'll tell the others-"

"John?" came a voice. John's friend Ringo stepped out of the submarine with a look of horror. "H-have you replaced me?"

"Shh, no, Ringo, it's okay. I'm in love, but you will always be my friend." He went over to his friend and patted him on the back.

"Oh... okay..." Before Ringo could continue, Paul shooed him back toward the submarine's hatch.

"Alright alright, now let's let the love birds let it be." John chuckled and waved, before kneeling down to kiss Ringo on the lips. The little man pulled closer in delight.

Ringo had followed Paul back onto the submarine, but he was hollowed to the core by then. His best friend, his crush, had just left him for a midget. Since when did John choose his men based on nose size? He did some contemplating on the trip back to Pepperland, and, just before they arrived, jumped into the open water. Not a sea of any kind, just water. Nobody had seen him leave the ship, and the only evidence left behind was a few gallons of water slugging about the submarine floor. Nobody, not even John, seen him again.

La Fin