John: Clean me ears out?! & peace, not war?! I'm not gonna "peaceout" beause you think this glob of ear wax is hindering my hearing! & it's because of that fart!
(Spontaneous gayness.)
Brian: John is so hot!
John: Hey, now that I cleaned out that wax, I heard Brian. & I must get away from him now!
George: Where's me nan?! NO! Ringo set her on fire AGAIN! ASSMUNCH!
Ringo: Huh? Wot fire? AAH!
(George leaps on Ringo.)
Paul: Lemme kick his ass too!
John: & me, you drunkard!
Brian: Oh look, an orgy. I think I'll join in.
All except: Ugh! Go 'way, Brian!
Ringo: Stop! You can't pull me in 3 directions! Guys?
Paul: Yer gonna die for all the trouble you caused!
Writer 1: Oh yeah! Tear him to pieces!
Writer 2: No! We'll kill them later, and then they won't have to burn the evidence.
Writer 1: Fine, we'll just have something bad happen to Ringo to compensate.
(The next morning, as the writer moved the scene to the non-existent communal flat...)
Ringo: Guys, I'm chained to my bed.
George: All the better to torture you.
John: Red-hot tongs or the racks. Hmm, what d'you say, Paul?
Paul: I say he's too short. Stretch 'im out a bit.
George: Like 5 feet out!
Ringo: Uh, I'm sorry? No, please don't stretch me! Uh, I'll-no I won't. I'm going to wake up now...
(Click, ching, jangle-jangle, click, jank-click...)
John: All ready! Now how tall are you? 7'10"? 8'6"? <snickering>
Ringo: AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! Wait, this is a diamond ring! I'll just break the chain...
John: Shit, he got away. Oh well, we'll have to wait until next time.
Paul: Grr...
George: Wot's "FIN" mean?
Paul: I speak English, French and Gibberish, not Georgese!
John: I think it means-oh shit, here comes one of those fucking things now! Run home!
Paul: We are are home!
(THUNK!!)
George: Ow.
FIN.
(It means "end", just so George knows...)
