Illegal Love - McLennon and Starrison

Helter Skelter

Ringo stirred slightly and looked down. He was still cuddling George, whom was already awake. "Does it ever bother you?"

"Does what ever bother me?"

"The fact that I love someone who's so beautiful, and I'm just kind of funny-looking, like with me nose."

"Ringo," George turned to face him, "I love you for who you are, no matter what you look like. You don't need to doubt me, okay?"

"Okay." They touched foreheads and smiled.

"Get a room," John whispered loudly from the corner. He ducked, just missing the pillow that hit the wall.

"Shut up, we could hear you two last night," Ringo quipped back.

His face turned red quickly. "We weren't that loud."

"I WAS JOKING! OH MY GOD!" George giggled and coughed slightly.

"Shut up, I hate you all."

Paul slowly joined them, walking with a slight limp. "Heh, hey Paul, what's wrong?" George bit his lip to hold back his laughter.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I mean you waddling like you have a tarbrush up your ass." Ringo made a snorting noise as Paul looked away.

"Someone tell me why we're making a second album again?"

"Because that's what the people want. So, how are you boys liking Sweden?"

"I miss home," Paul muttered.

"Don't be sad, Paulie, today we're going back. It's going to be great."

----

"Uh, look outside." Ringo nudged George awake.

"Mmwha? Oh."

"That's a lot of people," he breathed. "A few hundred, at least. This should be fun. And by fun I mean terrifying." The four slipped out of the plane, trying to avoid screaming fans left and right.

"Mr. McCartney, what kind of shampoo do you use?" a man with a microphone shouted.

"What the actual fuck," John whispered. "And we have another tour tomorrow."

"Damn, I forgot. This is a curse." Paul held back a yelp as a possibly-crazy woman pulled his hair.

"It's good to be back," Ringo muttered sarcastically.