Situation: After blowing up the White House, Siobhan & Sarah fled to Sid�s island in fear of arrest (politics, you know). The Beatles & Brian & Alva somehow shook off Justine & traveled back to their non-existent communal flat somewhere in Liverpool, England, that bears a striking resemblance to the one in HELP!. Without hope or girls on a Friday morning, & between gigs, things are obviously a bit slow. Until�
(Paul & George are watching TV, Brian is still asleep, Alva, Ringo & John are eating breakfast & everyone�s fuckin� bored.)
Ringo: I wonder who invented the spoon?
John: A genius like me, an innovator. Shut yer butt anyway, I�m eating corn flakes.
Alva: When can I meet other cats?
Paul: When do I get to meet some girls?
George: The door�s right there. Go get one then.
Ringo: It�s not that easy George.
Paul: Not fer you it�s not. Me? I could have any girl I want.
Ringo: Except Siobhan.
John: Or any girl with self-respect, for that matter.
Paul: Wot? Take Troll McDrummer there out of the equation & I�ve got her, practically gift-wrapped for me!
(Everyone suppresses their laughter except for Paul because he doesn�t know he�s the one being laughed at. Ringo throws his spoon at Paul�s knappy head & barely misses.)
George: Don�t throw the greatest invention in the world at Paul!
John: I once thought that about a girl. Except my competition was another girl�
Paul: I once dated a girl who wasn�t a vegetarian, she just didn�t like meat.
George: So no soft spot for animals, just was picky? Cor, what a bitch�
(A metallic click comes from outside.)
All: MAIL�S HERE!!
(John, Paul, Ringo & Alva scramble for the mail & they begin to fight amongst themselves before they even get to the door.)
Ringo: Me first!
Paul: No, me! I called dibs!
John: I�m the one with the most fan-mail!
George: Gee, I wonder what would happen if I just walk around them? Oh, I can get to the mail that way, can�t I?
Alva: Fucking bitch ass!
(George gets the mail & runs back inside, �coz it�s fuckin� cold in England!)
George: Bill, bill, junk mail, bill, more junk mail, crap from the government, bill, bill, bill, coupons, bill, citation, bill�
(Brian comes yawning out of his bedroom & sees the fight still going on, then George.)
Brian: What did we get in the mail today?
George: Here, you look, I�m watching Cow & Chicken.
(George dumps the pile of mail on Brian & turns back to the TV. Brian opens up the crap from the government envelope & turns white when he reads it.)
George: Ha ha ha! The devil�s bouncing on his arse! Hee hee!...what�s wrong Brian? You look all like you seen a naked picture of Ringo or something.
Brian: OH SONUVABUSDRIVINGGITFUCKINGBASTARD!!!!!!!!
(The fighting stops.)
Paul: Aah! You shit head! I�ve got a bloody bloody-nose now!
George: HA HA HA-oh wait.
John: �Oh wait� is right. Whenever Brian cusses something bad�s happened.
Alva: Teach me those words Brian! Please?
Brian: SHITPISSFUCKINGENGLISHCRAPMASTER NO NO NO!!
(Brian slams his fist on the arm of the couch.)
George: Okay�Brian, are you-
Brian: WE�RE DONE FOR! WE�LL NEVER MAKE IT NOW! SEE FOR YOURSELF! GOD HAVE MERCY�
(He throws the letter up in the air then stomps off to the liquor cabinet.)
John: I�ll get that! Ah, here we are�
Ringo: Wotsit say?
John: �Dear John Lennon, Paul McArtrey, George Harrison, Richard Starkey & Brian Epstein;
There is a lawsuit being filed against you, mainly for plagiarism. The people who are suing you & the amount of money they�re suing you for will be revealed when you come to court. You called there at 8:00 tomorrow morning, room 420, by Judge Fookead. Be there or be square.� Signed Judge Fookead. Hmm�
(Everybody thinks for a moment while Brian searches for a razor blade & fills up the tub.)
All: FUCK!!!
Paul: I think they got my name wrong.
Ringo: Well we could pretend it got lost in the mail & not go�
George: I can write a song about being sued & then commit suicide as well, but I ain�t gonna!
Paul: Oh, I have to start panicking now. Writers� orders you know.
Alva: How very original. I�ll go over here to avoid that now.
(Alva flies off, Paul starts panicking & it becomes contagious & everyone is sure they will be doomed. Brian ends up not committing suicide because everyone was trying to copy him. The next morning�)
Brian: Wakethefuckupyoulotofinsanestupidassholes! We gotta go to court RIGHT NOW!!!
John: Jus� five more minutes, Brian. Tired.
(Brian kicks John, although kicking him out of bed is impossible as he�s in a pit.)
Brian: WE DON�T HAVE 5 MINUTES! WE GOTTA BE THERE AT 8:00, & IT�S 7:47 NOW!
George: Oh crap!
Ringo: Well you can�t blame us. Our normal routine is to stay up until 4 AM, sleep until 5 PM, do our shit, then go back to sleep. God it�s early!
(Everyone drags their asses out of bed, gets dressed & ready to go, except the cat, who can�t go anyhoo because she�s an animal.)
Paul: I�ll drive us there.
George: Hurry up, it�s a half hour drive & we have to make it in ten minutes!
Ringo: But what about the speed limit?! We�ll never get there in time!
John: Are you crazy, man? This is England, people drive as fast as they like!
Brian: Shove over Paul & let me drive! We are NOT going to be late to this fucking court case!
(Brian screeches out of the driveway, speeds around roundabouts, chirps the tires & the car smokes.)
George: Yeah, �coz they might charge us extra or summat.
Ringo: Hey, look, the arrow�s going around the speedometer again.
Brian: Dammit, can�t this stupid car go any faster?!
John: Now I know we aren�t going eight miles per hour.
Paul: Wait just a minute, if we�re all so British, why miles per hour? Isn�t it kilometers?
(Blank stares, scratching of heads & rubbing of chins circulate the car.)