Situation: The Beatles & Brian were transported to the backstage dressing room of a stage, without realizing that N*sync has other plans for the greatest band of all time. They are ready for Ringo's "nervous-wreck run behind the drum kit" lead onto the stage when...
Ringo: Someone gimme a key. Door's locked.
Paul: John's got it.
John: I thought George had it!
George: Brian's got it, not me!
Brian: What key?!
(Snickering comes from the other side of the door as Ringo leaves.)
J.C. (poor imitation of British accent): Oi chums! It's aw-er concert, now. By the way, those instruments suck, so we'll smash 'em for ya' onstage!
Joey: Yeah, who plays their own instruments anymore? <scoff> No one!
Paul: No! It's impossible to find another bass like that! Christ! Shit, lemme out!
(Paul jumps into the door & flies backward.)
Brian: We'd better help him.
George: For a guy so "smart", wouldn't he have tried to pick the lock?
John: George, for an idiot, that's a good idea.
Ringo: Well, actually, you only got the idiot part right. We found a spare key.
Paul: We?
Ringo: Me, meself, Ringo & I.
Brian: Too much of "having a laugh"?
(Brian gestures to suggest smoking pot.)
Ringo: Sharrup.
(They use the key to open the door & sneak to the side of the stage, watching N'sync.)
Lance: Hey everybody! The, uh, Beatles called us about a half-hour ago & said they had to cancel, so we decided to fill in for them.
Chris: Yeah, uh the guy who plays, er, the...
Ringo (whispering): Let's give those wankers a hand. Who wants to be talked about?
George: Me!
All except: Shhh!
Ringo: 'Kay, here goes. (Calling out): The lad who plays guitar with jelly beans always at his side-
Chris: Yeah, him! He, &, uh-
John (calling out): The one short beyond all human belief...
(The audience begins to wonder where the help is coming from.)
Chris: Oh, yea, that guy. They got in a car crash.
Paul (calling out): At five AM last Wednesday & had their, um-
George (calling out): Hands smashed up, & the one had his appendix blow up!
(The audience gasps as the Beatles' shadows are cast onstage, but quickly disappear.)
Ringo: C'mon lads, up the ladder. I've got a plan...
Paul: Oh, great, the drummer's got an idea...
(The Beatles climb up to the bridge above the stage & walk across it until they reach a sandbag.)
Ringo: John, gimme yer knife. Paul, hold this an' I'll cut it down.
(Ringo cuts down the 50-lb. sandbag & pulls it onto the bridge with Paul's help. Then all four lifts it above the bridge's railing & hold it directly over Joey's head, whom carries on about what a great show they have planned for the audience.)
Joey: Anyway, even without the Deedles, we do have a bomb show!
Beatles: The "Deedles"?!
John: On the count of ten...
Justin: Word!
John: One, two, nine...
Joey: We have about...carry the three...multiply the 2...20 songs planned, so stick ar-<OOF! >
George: Bull's-eye!
Ringo: Okay, go back!
(Brian is waiting on the ground for them.)
Brian: What did you do?!
Paul: Just be glad we didn't bash Lance's skull in.
Brian: <sighs> Lance...
John: Look!
(John points to the stage where an oozy Joey gets up & signals that he's okay. N*suck retreats back stage to the opposite side of the Beatles.)
George: Dammit! Those gitty bastards...
John: Let's waste no time. To the stage!
(The audience squeals at the cute guys on the stage, then gasps when they realize who it is.)
John: Hello, girls! We're gonna play a little ditty for you, & it goes like this...
J.C: Not so fast!
(N*suck are all carrying baseball bats in threatening positions.)
Justin: Word!
Joey: The drummer's the one who messed up hair! Get him!
(They begin to advance on the Beatles & Brian but George stops them by paying his guitar loudly in the highest possible note. N*sync drops their weapons to cover their ears.)
John: That's our show! Go home!
(The audience grabs the baseball bats as valuable N*sync memorabilia.)
Paul: Ow! Stop, George! STOPPIT!
(N*sync recovers after George silences his guitar & continue to advance on the Beatles.)
Chris: You! With the big nose! C'mere!
Ringo: Hmm, no, don't think I want to do that. Sorry!
Joey: Why, you afraid of him?
Ringo: No, well, yes actually. Losing my eyesight just looking yer way, boys.
Lance: You're the ones with the girl haircuts!
John: & you are the one who should really be talking privately with Brian! Oh, Bri-an! Do it again!
(John makes rude kissing/screwing noises & everyone but Brian snickers, N*sync begins to growl.)
Announcer: Ladies & gentlemen, welcome to the Battle of the Bands! Have a seat, listen to music & yell for blood! YEAH!
All: What?: What's this?: Who's he?: We get to kill those jerks? Yes!: Word!: etc.
(The audience screams with horror & yells for more gore simultaneously.)
Brian: I'm right behind you, boys!
John: Considering your preference that happens to be a bad thing...