Paul hoped the subject of names wouldn't come up again; the whole thing was making him very uncomfortable. He didn't like having to pretend like this, but he didn't see what else he could do. He steered the conversation to anything else that popped into his head as he, Ringo, and Winston took their adjoining seats on the plane. Winston grinned at these increasingly random topics with a teasing expression, and Paul, hastily casting his mind around for a topic that would be completely natural to bring up, said, "Do you like rock-and-roll music, Ringo?"
In a very short time, Paul and Winston - which probably wasn't his real name, but as long as he had to hide his own name, Paul could hardly expect Winston to reveal his - were riding pleasantly along on two bikes borrowed from Aunt Mimi's garage. Winston had left a little note thanking her for them, which Paul hadn't seen, so he didn't know whether Winston had put his real name on it.
"Won't she get mad that you're takin' those bikes?" he'd asked.
"Probably." Winston had grinned broadly. Then, slyly, "How about your folks? They mad about you being here right now?"
"Let me take you down
'Cause I'm going to
The voice seeped into Paul's sleeping mind, quite pleasantly, but loud enough to wake him from his slumber. Paul blinked slowly, a little disoriented, wondering for a moment why his bed felt so funny and whether he had left one of his rock-and-roll records on all night, before remembering where he was. But someone was singing.
"And nothing to get hungabout...
Strawberry fields forever...."
Once Paul's mind was made up, he decided to get started right away. He packed some of his things in a backpack, a few changes of clothes and his pocket money, but also a lot of records and other musical items. His guitar was put into its case and set lovingly by the door where it would be ready to go as soon as he needed it.
Dinner was very quiet, partly because Paul and Jim had just argued, but mostly because Paul didn't want to accidentally let slip anything about his plans and make his dad suspicious. After dinner he excused himself quickly and slipped away upstairs.
It was late afternoon, and James Paul McCartney was coming home from another fun-filled day in Liverpool. Today, as usual, had been filled with a lively combination of rock-and-roll and girls, and as he made his way home, there were still two curly-haired girls on his arm, a brunette in a purple dress and a blonde in a green dress. The girls were giggling at everything Paul said, while he was still singing some of the songs he'd played on the jukebox, his gorgeous voice standing out even when he used it casually like this. The girls tried to sing along, but couldn't match him; however, they...
A lot of you have written an article like this already. Now it's my turn. I'd have done it a little sooner, but I wanted to finish The Beast Of Bodmin Moor before I wrote another kind of article. So here goes.
I wish I could say that my first word was "Beatles" and my baby self would squeal with delight every time my father played one of their songs, but that wasn't how it happened. Growing up, I knew there was a band called the Beatles, but not much more than that. My dad is into classic rock music and so it was impossible that there wouldn't be any Beatles at all around....
The Beatles were heroes.
Everyone in England talked about their defeat of the Beast of Bodmin Moor for years afterwards, and they were, if possible, even more famous than before. The papers wrote up articles about the Beatles' quest, and there was much interest in the special objects that had helped them. There were still some police officers who thought the Beatles should be arrested for carrying swords about and disturbing England, but there were too many people now who knew about the Beast and knew the Beatles had saved everyone. Besides, the Beatles had said in countless...
The Beast's tail lashed, ready to pounce. The Beatles waited for his move, Objects in hand. Claws extended, the Beast sprung at John. John drew the Sword of Truth and let it clash against the Beast's sharp claws, deflecting the blow. The Beast slunk backwards, nursing the pain a special object would cause to his claws. John could hear him sucking in air, but it was harder for him to get a grip on John's soul inside the Orb's shield.
The Beast made towards John again, snarling menacingly, But John was prepared and rapped him again with the Sword, sending him back towards Paul. Paul...
Everything was all set. The Beatles had spent the last day or two preparing, finding a good outdoor stage with a big place for the audience, and then making posters and putting them up wherever they found a good place. The Beatles hoped the Beast had seen them. Every teenager in Nottingham seemed to have, and the city was more animated than any place the Beatles had seen since the Beast had come. It was a relief to see people moving on the streets again. The Beatles didn't have to worry about them anymore; they had the five special objects and were ready to defeat the Beast the minute he...
I will write a new Beatles fanfiction soon, and there is a poll on my personal fan club to help me decide which one. At the moment it's in a tie. In three days the poll closes; one more vote could decide!
Posted 1 month ago