I thought I should write something a little more fun. How about the four lads.........aside from their professional singing career, works with the cops in salving various cases. Sounds like a lot of fun to write! I'll give it a shot!
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John pulled out his pocket knife. "Come on Macca. Come close so I can cut that pretty mop top you have there."
"What? No! This is my hair! All I did was put a little mark on you."
"A little? You call this 'little'? Well then, you wouldn't mind if I gave you a 'little' hair cut. Not using scissors. Using my trusty army knife."
"No way. I dont want you to be the cause for my hair cuts. Screw that."
"Fine. Next time George or Ringo or whoever does yer hair, I'll silently ask them if I could step in."
"Screw that. I'm never getting a haircut again."
"Oh yes you are. Maybe I should put hair coloring in yer shampoo bottles so yer hair turns bright bright pink. How's that sound?"
"What?! I dont think so!"
"Come on. I'm sure it'd be fun. Especially when I'm the one doing it. Ooh, ooh. I have a better idea. Tape you up while yer asleep and send you to the fans."
"You wouldn't do that to me!"
"Wouldn't I? You deserve every bit of what I'm about to do to you."
The two heard Ringo speak. "What's going on?"
"Nothing. Go back to sleep."
"Cant when two of me mates are fighting. What's going on? Maybe I cab resolve this."
"Oh I doubt that."
"Who drew all over you Johnny?"
"A 5 year old."
"That doesn't narrow it down. We have four 5 year olds here."
"The one I'm going after." He said with a hint of annoyance.
"Ah. Okay. Have at it. I'm sure I'd act the same way if someone drew all over me."
"Hear that? Even Ringo thinks it's a good idea for me to kill ye."
"Now I didn't say that. Don't kill him. We need him. Just mame."
"Oh alright. I'll ruff him up pretty good."
John started manoeuvring around the table. Every step John made, Paul made making it hard to catch him.
"Paul. Get over here before you make me lose my temper."
"You already lost it! I am not going to get hurt because someone drew all over you. And it wasn't me."
"Who are you blaming this time? A rabbit?"
"Maybe. Maybe a rabbit did write all over you. You don't know that. You had yer head buried in a newspaper."
"Rabbits can't write. Get over here before I do a little target practice with my knife."
"Keep that thing away from me."
"Then come closer."
John climbed on the table and Paul darted in another direction. John went after him and grabbed him by the arm and finally caught him.
