(Ringo rolls over onto his side & puts his hands under his pillow.)
John: Dammit, we�ll have to wake him up or roll him back over or something.
Brian: Then we�ll just have Paul do it since it was his idea.
John: Let�s try this ring first�Damn! It�s stuck.
Paul: His fingers swelled? Oh god.
Ringo: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
(Ringo�s hand flies up & hits Paul in the face, causing yet another bloody nose.)
Paul: FUCK!
Brian: You just woke him up! Damn, now we�ll never hear the end of him!
Ringo: What happened to Paul�s face?! That�s funny! Ha ha ha ha ha! Nosebleed! Ha ha ha ha ha!
John: Ringo, I�m going to do something for your own good, but you�re not gonna like it.
(John gives Ringo a vicious Vulcan neck-pinch & he falls unconscious.)
Paul: Can I bloody his nose now? That stupid git hurt me bad!
John: No, you need to find spare change with us. After the next session, remember? That�s when you can kill him.
Paul: I don�t wanna wait.
Brian: How long should he be unconscious for, John?
John: Dunno. Just in case he wakes up while we�re occupied let�s shove him in the closet so he don�t get away.
Paul: & lock him in there too!
(The deed is done & the others try to find spare change on the street, in the couch cushions, etc., for a couple hours. For lack of something better to do, Ringo & George sleep themselves somewhat sober. Ringo then tries to open the door.)
Ringo: Guys, lemme out! Please? <Rattles the door knob>. Anyone? Help?
Paul: What�d ya say we make a deal, eh?
Ringo: Okay! Lemme out now & I won�t bash in your skulls!
George: Fine then, I�ll just drop this key in the toilet. Flushy-flushy! Heh heh heh�
Ringo: No!!!
(Ringo slams his head into the door in a fit of frustration.)
Ringo: Ow! I�ll make a deal with you! A real one! Please?!
John: We�ll let you out if you give us 17 reasons to call you Ring-less�
(John jangles the keys.)
Ringo: What? Hell no! Go screw Alva!
Alva: Shut up. You need a bath. & I�m not the one locked in the closet by my so-called �friends� either.
Ringo: <Sigh> Here guys. <Grunting & foot-stomping> I�ll slide it under the door. OOOOOWWW!!! My finger! Stupid blunt knife!!!!!!!
George: That makes nine�
Ringo: I�ve got all ten, idiot! I just severed my bone & <sniff> & it hurts�<sob> & well, <sob> <whimper> <sob>�
George: Oh�I�m sorry�I-I didn�t know I hurt your feelings. You okay?
John: BRIAN! Get in here right now!
Ringo: My�hand�ulph!
(An audible thump on the closet floor indicates that Ringo has fainted.)
Brian: Yes?
Paul: Your gayness influenced George to feel sympathy, an emotion we do not endorse. Especially for <ahem> SHORTY!
Brian: Wait, are you�<hints>�George?
George: No no no no no no no no�
John: Well since our drummer has the pain tolerance of a 17th century noblewoman, we should probably do something about that severed finger, you know.
Paul: Hospital?
George: Or the pawn shop!
(So they rape Ringo of his 17 rings, then keep him locked in the closet while they go to the pawn shop. On their return�)
Paul: So how much did we get again?
John: Well, about 200 pounds for each ring�Aw hell, I can�t do math. How much George?
George: Er, �3,697. & 73p.
Brian: That�s it?! We have to think much bigger than that. Now what can we sell that will really rake it in?
(They think for a few seconds.)
Paul: What about the Mini?
John: & the flats? & Brian?
George: I think Ringo had an idea.
John: Gee, I don�t remember that. Anyway�
Brian: No, not my car! I need it!
George: You should take a list, Paul.
Paul: You do it. I need to think, & you�re no good at that. I mean you have basically 2 purposes, which would be writing what I think, & then�hmm, I can�t really think of anything else.
George (Enraged): I play GUITAR! RRRR!!-
(George pounces onto Paul & they begin to fight.)
John: Jeez! Everyone�s out for blood today�hold on a minute�hey, we could give blood! I mean sell it!
Brian: Yes, now we�re thinking!
John: To the blood-bank!
(After they give as much blood as is legally possible by the doctors [a pint each, I think], they come back lethargic & faint.)
George: My arm hurts.
(John socks him in the arm half-heartedly.)
John: How about now?
George: <whimper>�
Paul: We received �250 in services to whatever medical association that was.
Brian: We still don�t have �10 million! Shit!
(On Sid�s island�)
Sarah: I don�t really want to know what George said.
Siobhan: Okay then I�ll tell you. It says �Dear Girls (especially Sarah), uh, I�m going to ask you something really important, okay? Um, I-we-they wanted to know if you two��
Sarah: So finish it already!
Siobhan: I think I know what he wanted to say, but he really said, �Oh God guys! I can�t even say it on paper! & I�m not asking Sarah something! Dammit dammit dammit! Love George H.�
Sarah: Wow, he really is a dumbshit!
Siobhan: Don�t tell Sid, but I�m going to the breakwater now.
Sid: Where?
Siobhan: Shit.