Guy: Yes, all of those. Here, take this!
(The guy hands them a suitcase. They open it & a glow emanates from it.)
John: Wow, yellow light-bulbs.
Guy: Well I left my checkbook in my car. Will you hold the bid for me while I get it?
Paul: Sure. I don�t think the regular crowd around here can afford it really.
Guy: Finally, just what I need�
(The guy runs off, his lab coat being noticed by the Beatles for the first time.)
George: Hey, does that guy remind you of someone too?
Paul: Yeah, but I just can�t put me finger on it.
John: I wonder how an artsy-fartsy art dealer like him�s doing �round the ol� Jacaranda?
George: Who cares? We�re getting money!
Paul: I know, & drinks! I think things might be looking up for us.
John: Actually I think I know who he is. Vic-
(John loses his train of thought as the man returns with a check made out to the Beatles for �11 million & a dolly to wheel Ringo out of the bar with. He says thanks & leaves.)
John: Ah, money!
Paul: Well folks, that�s our show!
John: Bye everyone! See ya later!
George: Bye bye!
Paul: We should go now.
Groupie: What about drinks?
George: Oh, that�s right! Sure.
Brian: Hey lads, just in case you drink a bit too much, give me the check so I can ca-
John: Talk to the hand, �coz yer gay. It goes in my pocket, it stays in my pocket, & nothing�s gonna happen to it.
Brian: Just remember I warned you�
(Of course everyone overdoes it & gets piss fucking shit-faced. They even get into a brawl & are thrown out. The Beatles lay unconscious in the street & are eventually found by a roaming Hobo.)
Hobo: Let�s see what�s in yer pockets, ye little beauties. What�s this? Oh my-Oh god! God has smiled upon me! I am finally his son again! Oh, what a fortunate walk I�ve made from alley to ditch to-
Driver: Get out of the way you fucking bum! <BEEP!> SHIT!
(So the hobo gets hit & the check goes flying out of his hand into the gutter, where it is swept away into the flood control, never to be seen again.)
FIN.
