Situation: The Beatles & their manager have just ran out of Rockafeller Center Studios & are chasing Al Gore in pursuit of finding out the contents of his much coveted lock-box, through the only forest in New York, which happens to be about 20 feet away from where they ran. What the Beatles & Co. don�t know (but have suspected before) is that Al Gore is a robot, & everyone knows robots can run faster than humans�
John: Run FASTER!
(Ringo speeds up just as Al Gore reaches a bridge over a stream & pushes him in.)
Gore: No! My precious corrupt circuits! <splash!> AAAAAAA-<glub, glub>-ZZZZZZZZZAAPPZZTTT!!
George: You need to stop pushing people off of things.
Ringo: No I don�t!
George: Do so!
Ringo: DO FRIGGING NOT!
George: Do so! Do so! Do so! Do so! Do so! Do-
John: Shurrup! I got the box! Let�s open it�uh, Ringo, get a rock, George, get a stick.
(Couple minutes pass by where the two go off in the woods to get the items.)
Paul: Not a flipping twig, you grotty bastard!
George: Well you didn�t say. I�ll get another one then.
John: Let�s bash the box with a rock!
Brian: Won�t open.
Paul: We�re in the middle of a large forest & George can�t find a bloody stick to pry this open with?
John: Well he ain�t back yet, so c�mere Paul.
Ringo: Let�s bash the box with his chin!
Paul: Wha-?
(John strikes Paul�s chin against the box a couple times, accidentally giving Paul a bloody nose.)
Paul: Ow! OW! STOP!
Brian: Suppose you broke his chin yet?
Ringo: I hope so-er, I mean, uh, heh heh, you know, uh�
John: Shut up & go find George.
(5 minutes later�)
George: Hello guys! Here�s that stick. Brian, get out from behind me NOW!
Brian: I was looking for Ringo. Where is he?
George: Getting his foot out of a bear trap. He stepped in it on our way back.
Paul: A bear trap? In New York?
George: & a bunch of middle school dropouts babbling about human sacrifice. I�d have liked to watch, but you were waiting, so-
Paul: Dumbshit! They�re lunatics, & we�re about to lose the only guy weird enough to stand us & keep us in a group to their filthy moronic ways!
(George kicks Paul.)
George: Take that back! I�m not a dumbshit!
John: Oi-George-don�t you have anything in those bottomless pockets of yours we could use?
Ringo: I�m back, but my foot still hurts like a mother-
George: Uh, lemme see�
Ringo: Aack! Mmmfph!
(Huge pile of lint empties from George�s pockets onto Ringo.)
Brian: Where�d Shorty go?
John: Don�t know, only care vaguely.
Paul: Does it matter?
Brian: That�s peculiar, concerning that just a minute ago you made a huge fuss over his disappearance.
Pile of Lint: RRRRR! Mmmpphfff!
Brian: George, the huge pile of lint is talking to you.
George: Look! I found a crowbar!
John: Why do you carry around a�?
Pile of Lint: RR-MMMPH!
(George sets the crowbar to pry open the box.)
Paul: Wha�d you say, lint?
Pile of lint: MMM-MPHER-MMPHKHER!! Grr�
(George lifts the pile of lint off of Ringo.)
George: Ringo! Stop hiding & help us with the box!
Ringo: But my foot-
John: Stop crying, baby.
(They all put their weight into the crowbar.)
Brian: Oh John, your arms are so strong!
John: SHIT!
(SNAP! The crowbar breaks.)
George: What�ve you done to my beautiful crowbar?!
Ringo: Damn-snapped clean in half.
Paul (sarcasm): Well why don�t you just try my chin again?
John: Why don�t we?
(A few more cracks with the chin & the box is bashed open.)
George: Well that was easy.
Paul: �Sez you!
John: What�s that? Gear!
(Ringo picks up the item that was once inside the lock box.)
Ringo: Hmm�Looks like a shrunken hand. I don�t think it�s human though. Too hairy.
(Ringo looks at the back of the hand.)
Ringo: There�s summat singed into it, look.
George: M..mon�key�uh�w-wish�h-ha-
John: Gimme that-Here, idiot. <ahem> Monkey Wish Hand.
Brian: I�ve heard about these things. Each finger signifies a wish it will grant you, & there�s five wishes, because there are five fingers, &-what do you know? There�s five of us.
John: Stop being so gay, Brian. Okay, I want my-hey, what�s this?
Ringo: Oh, there�s more! It says �No love wishes, bringing back the dead or wishing for more wishes.�
Brian: No love wishes? Darn�
Paul: We should wish to break the rules, but I�d waste my wish.
Brian: Don�t look at me! I�m not giving mine up.
(A nearby bush rustles & out comes a motley group of about 20 demented middle-schoolers.)