~~**~~
The Beatles collapsed into George's hotel room, beaten, tired, and in some
cases, bloody. They looked a sorry lot. Ringo sprawled on the bed, and John
got a wet cloth to clean his hands and his face, since Ringo was clearly in
no state to be doing it himself. Paul held a wad of Kleenex to his nose,
slumped in an easy chair. As soon as they had entered, George had knelt on
the floor to pray.
"George, what are you doing?" John asked, gingerly dabbing at Ringo's face
cut.
"What does it look like? The superior angels said if we wanted to see them
again we should pray, and pray hard, so that's what I'm doing." George
closed his eyes, muttering prayers. The rest just stared at him, minus
Ringo, who was staring at the ceiling, glassy-eyed. George cracked one eye.
"You want them back, don't you?" The others nodded slowly, even Ringo. Paul
shrugged, and with a "well, it just might work" look on his face, joined
George on the floor. John finished cleaning up Ringo and knelt next to Paul.
"Ringo?"
"What's the fucking point? She's gone, isn't she? Love of my life...she's
gone to heaven, and she's never coming back...I think I'll write a song..."
Ringo babbled deliriously. "My girl is gone, gone forever from my side,
she's gone to hell cause Heaven didn't abide..."
"Ringo, snap out of it! We can bring her back if you'd just help us PRAY!
PRAY, damnit!" George yelled. Ringo sat up abruptly.
"Well, mister, maybe I'm not religious! I don't believe in all that angel
crap! Angels? What angels? I've never met any angel..." At this point,
George was getting sick of it. He stood up, walked over to Ringo, and
without another word, punched him right across the face. Ringo fell back
onto the bed, holding his cheek. John and Paul could only stare in
astonishment. George silently returned to his place on the floor, resuming
his praying stance.
Ringo sat up, a bruise already darkening on his cheekbone. He stood up,
then, kneeling next to George, started to pray. John and Paul looked at each
other, shrugged, and knelt down next to their grieving band mates.
@@@@
The four High Superior angels gathered around the glass ball, gazing at the
four young men kneeling on the floor.
"They are praying, just as you thought they would, 001."
"Of course. They really want those troublemakers back."
"Hey, listen to this one..." The angel turned on the voice synthesizer, and
George's voice was heard.
"God, or superior angels, or whatever, I'm supposed to pray if I want
Ashley, or angel 8403 or some bullshit like that, back. Well, I'm praying,
so, please bring Ashley back. She means the world to me, and I'm not sure
what I would do without her, though I suppose I may have to find out."
The four angels nodded slowly, then moved on to Paul.
"Ashley, luv, we need you back. I don't know what's going to happen to us,
since it seems that you took better care of us before...I also don't know
about George; he's devastated, y'know, and there's really nothing anyone can
do but you, so we need you back...NOW."
"Perhaps Angel 8403 did more than pile up offences. Who's this then?
Richard?"
"Superior angels, I don't know if you're listening, but I didn't mean what I
said. I DO believe in angels, and I do believe in Lucy. I love her with all
my heart, and I just hope that there's something I can do to bring her back.
Just because they've fallen prey to a little human emotion called love, I
don't think that's any excuse to sentence four mortals to death who need
them the most, cause without them, we haven't got a chance."
The four figures nodded silently.
"God?" John now. "I know I may not have always been on best terms with you,
but I hope that you'll listen to me for just a moment's time. I won't be
long, honest. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I really wish that you'd
send Lucy back to us. She's probably the only reason I'm still alive here,
and I think that outweighs a couple offences, doesn't it? I think we'd be
worse off without them than with them, if that's what you're wondering.
Can't we work something out? Ringo and George here are falling apart, and if
we don't get Ashley and Lucy back, we'll never be able to win the battle of
the bands. We really need them back, if we want to keep Paul."
The angel tuned him out, and the vision in the crystal faded to the normal
hue. The four sat in silence for a moment before speaking.
"Well, I think we should give them another chance. Like that one said, if we
don't send them back, they might not win the battle of the bands."
"That was my idea, true, and it might be bad to tamper with it thus�"
"Another chance?? Are you mad, 003? Who knows what might happen if we send
them back again. If they interfere too much, we may have to be rid of these
mortals altogether, and I don't think that's the best course of action." The
other three solemnly agreed.
"Well, can't we work out a compromise? Say, if those four keep praying, and
the angels keep themselves together in a proper fashion, we'll send them
back before the battle."
"No!" A sly smile spread across his face. "I've got a better idea!"
@@@@
The boys prayed feverishly for hours, the time flying by as they knelt and
muttered Godly things to appease the superior angels. They were running out
of time. None of them had any idea when their enemies would pop up and say
"Today's the day!" All they could do was wait...and pray like mad.
Suddenly, there was a bright flash that all four of them could see, despite
the fact their eyes were closed. They all fell over backwards, squinting,
trying to block the light with their outstretched hands.
"KNEEL IN OUR PRESENCE." A booming voice commanded. The four Fabs stumbled
to a kneeling position frantically, awed, but feeling hopeful nonetheless.
"WE HAVE DECIDED YOUR JUDGEMENT AND THEREFORE YOUR FUTURE AT THIS PRESENT
TIME. SINCE YOU HAVE PRAYED SO DILIGENTLY, WE HAVE DECIDED TO AMEND OUR
SENTENCE AS FOLLOWS: THE ANGELS IN QUESTION, #8403 AND #8404, WILL ATTEND
THE BATTLE OF THE BANDS. SHOULD THE BATTLE BE WON BY YOU MORTALS, THEY WILL
BE RESTORED AND THEIR RECORDS ERASED. YOU WILL AGAIN BE PERMITTED TO SPEAK
TO THEM. REMEMBER, MORTALS, THAT THIS IS A SPECIAL CASE. ANY BEHAVIOR THAT
WE DEEM IMPROPER WILL BE MOST HARSHLY RETALIATED. REMEMBER ALSO THAT WE ARE
DOING YOU A FAVOR." The four nodded furiously, eager to accept almost any
terms that would return their beloved angels to them. "YOU ARE PERMITTED TO
SEE THE TWO ACCUSED, BUT ONLY FOR ONE HOUR. YOU MAY INFORM THEM OF OUR
DECISION. THAT IS ALL."
The four nodded furiously again, and the Superior Angels disappeared. They
all looked at each other, positively beaming. "IT WORKED!" George screamed,
jumping up. John and Paul hugged each other in celebration, then quickly
parted when they realized what they were doing. Ringo sat there in
disbelief, not able to comprehend the incredible deal they had just
received.
Suddenly, with another flash of light, two young girls appeared, looking
quite surprised, grief-stricken, and confused.
"ASHLEY!" George ran over, picking her up and hugging her tight.
"What? What's going on? GEORGE??" She kissed him hard, and then hugged back.
Lucy just stood there, trying to gain some sense about her. Ringo stood up
slowly, walked over, and hugged her gently. She started to cry, sobbing into
his shoulder. Ringo soothed her quietly, smoothing her frazzled hair. John
and Paul looked on, feeling slightly uncomfortable and out of place. George
noticed, and stepped back, letting Paul hug Ashley. Ringo similarly released
Lucy for a moment, and John took his turn comforting the sobbing angel. With
all that said and done, the six sat in a circle to discuss the impending
events. The Beatles filled Ashley and Lucy in on the situation, and the two
angels agreed solemnly. They both burst into tears when they heard how they
were given the second chance.
"The Superiors rarely allow second chances! You guys must have really
prayed!" Ashley said through her tears, astonished.
"We did!" George replied. "Hours! Honestly!"
"My knees hurt!" Ringo joked, sitting next to Lucy with his arm around her
waist. All six of them were feeling considerably better. Things seemed to be
looking up.
"Guys," Paul said, trying to bring everyone back to the reality of the situation, "we have to find somewhere to practice....and we have to get instruments, for that matter!!" Everyone grew quiet.
"I 'ave my crystal guitar, if someone wants to use that," Ringo piped up. Everyone looked at him surprised. Ashley smiled at him. Lucy squeezed his hand. "I'm a drummer."
"Well, who is playing the crystal, then?" Paul asked. George and John looked at each other.
"You can have it," George said.
"No, really, it's yours," John offered. Ashley rolled her eyes.
"Draw names or something."
"We've got no paper." Ashley tried snapping her fingers but the remembered.
"Ah, damnit!" She cursed. "Lucy?" Lucy snapped her fingers and supplies appeared. Ashley sighed heavily and put her head on George's shoulder.
"What...why?" George asked, lifting her head off his shoulder.
"I lost all my powers when I got my licence revoked," Ashley sighed. "I can't do anything angel-like. I am just a walking ghost now...nothing special about me. They even took my halo and everything. I am an angel right now, just a very very severely punished angel." She shook her head. "I just can't believe it! I mean I had so much going for me...ugh!" George nodded his head and smiled encouragingly.
"It'll be okay. You don't need your powers to be beautiful." she smiled.
"Okay, here it is. John gets the crystal guitar." George smiled at John and squeezed Ashley's hand.
"Okay, I have an idea where you can get other instruments. Go down to the store where George got his sax and get stuff there. Tell him that you were sent by Ms. Brooke." They all looked at her rather strangely, including Lucy, who didn't know about her secret musical life.
"Ms. Brooke?" Lucy questioned.
"That's my middle name," Ashley replied.
"So, what are we supposed to do?" Ringo asked, piping up.
"I'll trade my saxophone in. I don't need it anymore, but I think that if I ever get back to the '60's I will try and pursue it maybe...I kinda cheated a little bit!" George said, picking up the saxophone beside his bed.
"And instead of buying the instruments, just have them rent them out to you. It'll be okay! Don't worry about it. And you don't have to get the top of the line stuff, either. So, it'll all be fine!" Ashley said, sighing. "But the thing that I am a little nervous about is how I am going to get back into heaven if I don't have angel powers. I mean...how long can we be back down here anyway? I mean..what happens if I can't get back up into Heaven......is Lucy going to help me? I mean-"
"Ashley, simmer down! It's okay. I am sure the Superior Angels will help you!" John said.
"Ugh...Superior Angels. I....ahh...I don't want to see them!" Ashley shook her head. "Okay, anyway, sorry about my outburst, I don't know how long we have down here, so why don't you guys get lots of sleep and then get up early and go to rent your instruments. There has to be a place for you to practice." Lucy sighed.
"Ashley, you are so stressed out. Good Lord...why don't you lay down. They can take care of things!" she smiled.
'Lay down? good idea." She proceeded to lay down.
"But Ashley does have a point. Why don't you guys go to sleep. You have to be exhausted, and it's late anyway."
"But the Superior Angels said that all you could stay was an hour..I don't want you to leave if I won't be able to see you again!" Ringo said.
"Well, then, our hour is almost up. We could just lay here, and the Angels will come and get us."
Ashley sighed and clung on to George.
"They took away my right to see you in heaven, you know. I can't see you. It's so hard," she said quietly. John gave Paul a look, and they walked out of the room to discuss the plans for tomorrow.
"I know they did. But, I'll see you soon, you know." He stroked the back of her head. "You'll be at the battle of the bands...you'll be there, and you will see it all." Ashley looked up at him.
"I will?" He smiled.
"The angels have aloud you to attend. If we win, your offences are dropped, and you are free." She smiled.
"I wish I could kiss you," she said quietly.
"Can't you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Not unless I want another offence," she said, sighing.
"Can I kiss you?"
"If you feel compelled," she said with a meek smile.
"I feel very compelled." He reached up and pressed his lips against hers for what might be the last time.
~~**~~**~~**~~
"I watch you," Lucy told Ringo as he kissed her fingertips. "I watch you all the time. I stand in line at the public viewfinder, and I watch down on you." Ringo looked deep into her eyes and smiled.
"I know," he said quietly.
"I was just making sure."
"I always think of you...and I hope you know, even if you can't hear it anymore." She squeezed his hand. "I love you."
"I love you too." Suddenly she began to disappear, as did Ashley.
"Lucy!! LUCY! What the hell is happening?" Ashley yelled.
"I...I think we are being beckoned by the Superiors."
"But....but..why do I feel so faint?" Ashley asked.
"I-I don't know!" Lucy replied.
"Ashley? Baby, it will be okay! It will....it will...." George trailed off as he watched her fade away. It was painful to watch someone he loved so much leave him again.
Ringo tried to hug Lucy one last time, but it was too late and she had already disappeared.
~~**~~**~~**~~**~~
"Okay, We want to trade this in, and we want a drum set and an electric guitar...and an amp...oh shit.." John said trailing off. "And microphones..." The person at the store was totaling it all up. Even after he learned that they were sent by "Ms. Brooke" the price was quite high.
"What are we going to do?" John asked, gathering everyone for a meeting.
"I wonder..." Ringo thought out loud.
"What?" John asked, eager for suggestions.
"I wonder if the guys in Sporadic would let us use their equipment? I mean, they might."
"Let's give them a ring," Paul suggested. So, the Beatles trudged over to the apartment which was not far from the house. Ringo gave the door a tap, and Candy opened the door.
"Ri-wait, what do I call you?" Candy asked.
"Ringo, thank you," he answered with a laugh.
"Okay, RINGO!!!" she yelled, greeting him with an enthused hug.
"Hey! I have a question that you might have to ask the guys on, and I don' t know how keen you would be, but it would be a big help to the lads and I here." She smiled.
"Come in, guys! Can I get you anything to drink?" Ringo shook his head, since he was the speaker for the group.
"I need to know this. Can we use your instruments? We have something very very important to do...and if we can't get instruments then we'll lose something that presently means everything to us." Candy looked at Ringo's eyes, which were sunken with grief.
"I-I don't know. I mean, I'll have to ask Sam and Clint, and I don't know what their plans are for today-"
"-Does it mean that much to you?" Clint asked, nursing a beer in the doorway to his bedroom.
"Yes," Ringo said quietly. "This....means the world to me." George nodded.
"I suppose...if we can come see this crazy gig you guys have to do..." Ringo sighed in the relief of not having to lose anything else valuable.
"I don't know how to pay you back ever...This means so much to me," Ringo said.
"Yes, thank you so much." George said.
"It's the least I could do...you helped us get signed, man. That means a lot to us, too. You helped us discover our dream, and I think that we should give you a favor back."
"So, we are set now, right? Now we have to practice...seeing as we haven't played together in...more than a month!" Ringo said. Everyone sighed. They knew that trying to reassemble their sound would be tough, and they were afraid their time would run out before 98 Degrees came knocking at their door.
Ringo opened the doors to the studio wide, letting everyone in. Sporadic had
stayed behind to give them quiet to practice, and after thanking them
lavishly a few more times, gladly took the time alone.
The Fab Four walked slowly around, inspecting the equipment. George picked
up the nearest acoustic, strumming a few familiar chords. He sighed heavily;
his fingers were going to be hurting tonight. He hadn't picked up a guitar
for what seemed like ages. At least his lip wouldn't be bleeding, he thought
with a small smile.
Paul picked up Candy's bass, pulling the strap over his shoulder. He
examined it carefully, no detail left unnoticed, from the shining silver
string pegs to the�bright pink body??? He stuck out his tongue comically,
grimacing at the fluorescent pink paint job. He sighed, then started playing
the bass line for "The Word."
Ringo sat down at the drums eagerly, then, after searching for a minute,
realized there was something missing. "Uh�lads?"
"Yea, Ring?" George looked up from his guitar. "What's up?"
"Uh�" Ringo sighed, gesturing aimlessly. "No drumsticks."
"Well, that's bloody inconvenient." Paul stated bluntly.
"Thank you, Captain Obvious." John spat back jokingly.
Ringo searched the room, digging underneath the various fast food boxes,
newspapers, et cetera. He looked to his band mates, who just shrugged.
Sitting down at the drums again, he tapped the hi-hat and bass pedals with
his foot.
"We need more than that, lads," Ringo said, shaking his head. "I need
drumsticks. Lucy! Where are you when I need you??"
Suddenly, there was a small flash, and two drumsticks tied with a red ribbon
appeared in front of Ringo. He picked them up, staring at them. "There's a
card�" Ringo opened it up, reading aloud:
"Ringo darling,
Missing something?
XOXO,
~Lucy"
Next to her name was a print of red lipstick where Lucy had kissed the card.
Ringo kissed it in the same place, then put the card in his back pocket. He
untied the ribbon and held the drumsticks, feeling their weight and balance.
He had never held such perfect drumsticks. They were the perfect weight, but
then again, he never expected anything less from Lucy.
John looked around for his new guitar, eager to play it ever since he had
laid eyes on it. He spotted the beat-up old case that Ringo had carried it
around in, and, walking over to it with quick, long strides, eagerly
unzipped the case.
The guitar shone with an incredible light, and John pulled it out slowly and
carefully, using both hands. He gently pulled the strap over his head,
running his hand along the smooth, straight neck. The wood was balanced
perfectly, the light tan neck polished to a shining finish. The crystal body
shone even in the dim light, and John was hesitant to touch it for fear of
smudging it with sweaty fingerprints. He plucked each string, finding it
perfectly in tune. He turned to his mates, who all seemed eager to play as a
band once again.
"Now�we can PLAY."
@@@@
"LUCY! I can't beLIEVE you DID that!!!"
"Oh, hush, will you? No one needs to know. I didn't see them, I didn't
visit them; they didn't say I could help them out a little. It's just a
little pair of drumsticks. Come on."
"I'm just trying to keep you from losing your license; it's no fun, let me
tell YOU. You wouldn't be able to see Ringo at ALL for a year, max!"
"Don't lecture me, Ashley. I know what I'm doing."
@@@@Two Weeks Later�@@@@
"Wun, two, three, fow, wun, two�"
As soon as George rattled off the starting cues, the Beatles burst into a
particularly energetic rendition of Taxman, their chosen song to lead off
the concert. To follow was John's You've Got To Hide Your Love Away, then a
tune each by Paul and Ringo. Paul had chosen Let It Be, but, due to the
obvious lacking of a piano, that was right out. He eventually picked the
next best choice, Yesterday; always the crowd-pleaser. Ringo (and the rest
of the lads, for that matter) was chagrined to realize that due to the
limited instrumental accompaniment, Don't Pass Me By was out of the
question. At the mention of I Wanna Be Your Man, he fell
off his stool laughing ("Oh, the Superior Angels'll be THRILLED with that
one!" He gasped, wiping away tears). George eventually suggested Act
Naturally; it's cute, it's fun, and perfect. That sealed things. Taxman,
You've Got To Hide Your Love Away, Act Naturally, and Yesterday to finish up
the bill. All they needed to do was practice, practice, practice. And
practice they did. Things did seem to be going much better than planned,
once they worked out the rough spots in their act. So far, there had been no
sign of 98 Degrees or the ditzy Barbie doll (which was good news for Paul).
"Should five per cent appear too small
Be thankful I don't take it all
Cos I'm the Taxman
Yea, I'm the Taxman�" George belted with gusto, picking the notes out on
Sam's dark green electric guitar. Paul tapped his foot to the beat, grinning
from ear to ear. It sure felt good to be playing again. Ringo bashed away at
the drums, sweat dripping down his ecstatic face, hands tightly gripping
Lucy's drumsticks. John found it particularly easy to pick out the chords on
his new guitar, and chalked it up to the celestial origin. He didn't even
have to think about it.
"Yea, I'm the Taxman
And you're working for no one but me�" George finished the song, taking deep
breaths to regain some air.
"*Whew!* I think that's the hardest I've ever sung!" He exclaimed, falling
into the nearest chair.
"Good job, Geo�break time, lads." John said, being the resident 'leader'
once again. Paul found a cardboard box on which to rest, John sat down
cross-legged on the floor, cradling his guitar, and Ringo lay splayed out on
the floor, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
"What a work out.." They were silent for a few moments, the only sound being
their panting and gasping for breath.
"Lads?"
"Yea, Ringo?"
"It sure feels great to be together again, eh?"
"Without a doubt, Ring, without a doubt."
Suddenly, their quiet reverie was interrupted by a loud knock at the door.
The four Fabs looked at each other, all thinking the same thing.
It's time.
John pointed to Paul. Paul pointed to George. George pointed to Ringo. Ringo
pointed to John.
"YOU get it!!" They all said in unison.
"I'll get it," Ringo said, getting up. But, he didn't have a chance to. The door opened, and there stood Candy, with Britney Spears. A look of horror crossed Paul's face. Candy didn't look pleased at all.
"Is there a...Paulie here?" Candy asked, scanning the room.
"No?" replied John.
"Yes! Look there!" Britney said, pointing in Paul's direction.
"How in the hell did you find me?" Paul asked with an exasperated sigh.
"I followed you! Guess what! I get to perform in the battle of the bands, too!" she said excitedly.
"WHAT?" everyone asked in disbelief.
"Yeah! Isn't it great? And if I win, I get Paulie!" Paul's mouth dropped in horror.
"Why? I mean, how?"
"I said so myself! And seeing how I am the best singer in the world, I'm sure to win. YAY!!! I'm gonna win a Paulie! I'm gonna win a Paulie!" She started skipping around the room in delight. Paul looked at her in disgust.
"But....Britney....you can't have me!!! I'm....58 years old!!"
"No you're not, silly! You're probably only 25 or 26!! Besides, I like older guys! don't you love me Paulie? don't you want me to win?"
"Candy, get her out of here now!" John spat angrily.
"No! I am the Queen of Mainstream Top 40 radio!!! I do not get ordered around, I do the ordering, do you understand this concept?" Candy got up with a start and smacked Britney across the face.
"Get out of here, you stupid skank!" She growled menacingly. A look of shock crossed Britney's face, but before she could protest, Candy pushed her out of the room and locked the door. Ringo laughed at the display. George rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath. But, Paul was worried. Very worried, in fact. he was quickly losing faith in what they could do. True, the Beatles were playing very well together, but 98 Degrees also had a very solid foundation. And Britney- if Britney won Paul, he didn't know what he would do. He felt like a pawn in a big game. He felt like first prize, which, technically, he was.
"Paul? Are you ready to start again?"
"Hmm?" Paul asked, raising his head slowly.
"Are you ready to start again?"
"Oh-oh yeah," he said, trying to bring himself out of his somewhat depressed trance.
They practiced for hours more before taking a break. Their concentration was very centered and collected, but Paul's mind continued to wander, and he wondered if this was a good idea or not. Suddenly, in the middle of their much deserved break, there was another knock on the door. George got up and answered it, and Britney was there again- along with 98 Degrees.
"Tomorrow, 6PM. We go. Central Park," Jeff said with a snarl, speaking for the group.
"Okay," George said with a puzzled look on his face.
"Be There."
"Can we PLEASE talk in complete sentence form for God's Sake. I flunked out of school, but at least I don't talk like I am an inbred," John said lightly, rolling his eyes.
The "boyband" looked at him with threatening glares, but he didn't mind.
"6, tomorrow, we'll be there. Thank you for your message, Hermes, good-bye," George, said, closing the door. He sighed and sat down by his guitar. They were less then 24 hours from success....or complete and utter life-shattering failure.
~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~
"What do the superior angels have planned for us?" Lucy asked Ashley, sitting down on her bed.
"I don't know...can I even talk to the superior angels anymore...I think I lost that power too. Ugh, do you have any idea HOW completely frustrating that is?!" Ashley said with a sigh.
"No, nor do I intend to." Suddenly, a breeze whipped through the house, and Ashley and Lucy immediately dropped to one knee.
ANGEL 8404, YOU HAVE VIOLATED RULE#0836 IN SECTION GGIS. YOU HELPED OUT A MORTAL YOU ARE NOT ASSIGNED TO. THIS-"
But you NEVER said I couldn't help them out!"
"SILENCE! NEVER BACK TALK TO THE SUPERIORS!!! YOU ARE TO REPORT TO THE COURT IMMEDIATELY WHERE YOUR LICENCE WILL BE REVOKED FOR YOUR UNRULY BEHAVIOR." Lucy stood, stunned. The angels disappeared.
"I-I....I didn't-"
"Sssshhh. It's okay..it'll be off your record and gone if they win, which I know that they will," Ashley said.
"Will you come to the court with me? I don't want to go by myself."
"Of course."
~~**~~**~~**~5 PM the next day~**~~**~~**~~
"Okay, so, we're going to play well. Very well...and we are going to get Lucy back...and Paul too...and Ashley too....but most importantly Lucy..." Ringo said to himself. Everyone was tense. it was one of the most important shows that they would ever have to do in there entire life. 98 Degrees wasn't even there yet, nor was Britney.
"We are going last, right? I mean come on, we should go last!!" Paul was saying, pacing back and forth.
"Macca, calm down! We don't know what they want, and we have to follow their lead if you want to stay with us..." George said, attempting to keep a level head.
Suddenly, a large black limousine pulled up at the side of the road, and 98 Degrees popped out. There was already a little stage up, and all the equipment was up. All they needed now was the other performer, and for 6 o'clock to come. Something that the Beatles didn't understand was the two large glass chambers on the side of the stage.
"I see you set the stage up," Justin said, smirking at the stage.
"We didn't do this," John said, standing up from his spot on the side of the stage.
"Well, then, who did?" Jeff asked.
"Hell if I know...but it's ours, so get ready, 'cause you aren't getting off of this easy!"
And then a long white limousine pulled up, and Britney stepped out.
"Oh Lord," Paul said, trying to hide behind John.
"Hello, everyone, your reigning champion is here!!!" She said, pivoting on her left foot and turning around in a jazzy sort of way. Paul rolled his eyes and sighed at her insolence.
"Britney, you aren't a reigning champion," Drew said, eyeing Britney very closely, making sure not miss an inch of her plastic body.
"No, but I will be before tonight is up."
"Who the hell will be judging us? damnit, Drew, weren't you supposed to set up 'the judges?'" Nick asked, pulling Drew away from his trance.
"Wha....er, I mean I did!" Suddenly, a brilliant white light poured from the heavens, and all of the Beatles kneeled down to one knee.
"Kneel!" Paul hissed at everyone.
"What...do I look like some kind of fairy? I don't kneel to bright, religious looking lights, that's just wrong," Justin was rambling on. The two angels appeared from the light.
"YOU WILL BOW BEFORE THE SUPERIORS!"
"Over my dead body! It's not frickin Halloween for God's sake!" Jeff said, speaking up for the first time.
"AS YOU WISH," Superior Angel 002 said, lifting a brittle finger into the air.
"SPARE THIS LOST SOUL, 002. HE WILL PAY LATER," Angel 003 said. She turned to the remaining mortals who stood so rudely.
"KNEEL BEFORE THE SUPERIORS," She repeated. Britney burst into tears.
"Please don't kill me! I'm young! And I just paid so much money for my implants....I mean...." She dropped down. Angel 003 pointed a long slender finger, and muttered a few words, and the four boyband members dropped on a knee.
"What the hell-"
"THAT'S WHERE YOU WILL BE GOING IF YOU DEFY THE WORD OF GOD, YOUNG MORTAL. WE WILL BE JUDGING THIS BATTLE FAIRLY AND JUSTLY. THESE ARE THE STAKES OF THE BATTLE- YOUNG JAMES PAUL MCCARTNEY, BORN JUNE 18TH, 1943, 26 YEARS OLD, WILL BE PERFORMING WITH 98 DEGREES AND THE BEATLES. WHOEVER SHOWS THAT THEIR NEED OF JAMES PAUL MCCARTNEY IS MORE SEVERE SHALL BE DECLARED THE WINNER. JAMES PAUL MCCARTNEY MUST PERFORM UP TO FULL POTENTIAL FOR EACH PERFORMANCE, OR ELSE HE WILL SUFFER UNDER THE CONSEQUENCES OF THE WRATH OF GOD. YOUNG BRITNEY JEAU SPEARS WILL BE PERFORMING FOR CUSTODY OF JAMES PAUL MCCARTNEY. THE WINNER WILL BE WHOEVER WE DEEM WORTHY. ARE THEIR ANY QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS HALF OF THE PERFORMANCE?" Everyone shook their heads and angel #002 continued.
"SHOULD THE BEATLES WIN, THEY WILL CLEAR ANGELS #8403 AND #8404 OF THEIR CRIMINAL RECORD, AND THEY WILL BE SET FREE TO GEORGE HARRISON, RICHARD STARKEY, JOHN WINSTON LENNON, AND JAMES PAUL MCCARTNEY. SHOULD THE BEATLES LOSE, THE ANGELS SENTENCES WILL BE CARRIED OUT, AND YOU WILL NEVER HAVE FORMAL CONTACT WITH THEM FOR THE REST OF YOUR MORTAL LIVES. ARE YOU, THE LIVERPUDDLIAN REPRESENTATION OF POPULAR MUSIC, READY TO ACCEPT THIS FEAT AND NOT COMPLAIN AT WHATEVER CONSEQUENCES SHALL OCCUR?" They shook their heads furiously.
"SO BE IT. I DECLARE THIS THE BEGINNING OF THE BATTLE OF THE BANDS- THE BEATLES, VERSES 98 DEGREES AND BRITNEY JEAU SPEARS. PLEASE TAKE THE STAGE, JEFFERY BRANDON TIMMONS, NICHOLAS SCOTT LACHEY, ANDREW JOHN LACHEY, JUSTIN PAUL JEFFRE, AND JAMES PAUL MCCARTNEY. WE ASK ANGEL #8403 AND #8404 TO PLEASE REPORT TO THEIR INDICATED POSITIONS."Angel 002 snapped his fingers, and Ashley and Lucy appeared into the two glass pods. They looked dazed for a second, but then they realized where they were.
"RINGO!!!!" Lucy screamed, but her voice was muted from the soundproof glass. Ashley pounded against the glass with no success of getting out. With the snap of the fingers, the battle began, and 98 degrees began to warm up.
"John...John, come 'ead," George said in a low whisper.
"What?" He asked, annoyed.
"Ringo and I...we have a plan."
John followed George and Ringo behind the stage, curious. When they were out
of the sight of the angels and the other competitors, George pulled a piece
of yellowed paper out of his back pocket. Unfolding it for the others, John
took it eagerly, Ringo and George peering over his shoulder. John read out
loud:
"Jeff, Drew, and Justin:
Enclosed are the plans for our performance in the Battle Of The Bands. As
you may remember, the Backstreet Boys made a concert entrance that went down
extremely well with the populous. Here are the plans for our making of the
same type of entrance. DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT let this fall into the wrong
hands!
Yours truly,
Nick"
Below were photographs taken from the Backstreet Boys concert. The five
members of the boyband were standing on boogie boards, suspended from wires
that stretched up to the ceiling riggings. The letter included extensive
details on the machinery and the workings. John looked up, smiling evilly.
He patted George on the shoulder. "Good work, cadet," He said firmly,
smiling from ear to ear. "Are you guys thinking what I'm thinking?"
"If what you're thinking involves wire cutters and 98 Degrees pudding, yea,
I think so," Ringo replied, rubbing his hands together. John smiled.
"Let's go, lads."
@@@@
98 Degrees stood at the top of the stage, nervous as hell. Paul hugged the
nearest metal pole. "Guys...I can't do this..." he whined, clutching his
beloved pole. "I hate heights..."
"Paul, relax. Just don't look down." Of course, Paul inevitably did.
"Oh SHIT!!" Paul closed his eyes tight, hugging the pole for dear life. "No
way. NO WAY. I'm getting down. You guys can break your necks, I'll just
appear out of the fog, 'k?"
"But, Paul..."
"DON'T TRY TO STOP ME, YOU FREAKS!!" Paul yelled a little too loudly. He
quickly climbed down, undid his harness, and adjusted his microphone
headset. He'd never get used to wearing one of these things. He flashed a
thumbs up to the four up ahead. They nodded, and cued the fog.
Ringo clung to the cross-rigging, trying to grasp the unwieldy wire
trimmers. John was a few beams over, carefully balanced on a cross beam.
George was on the other side, inching his way along like a tightrope walker.
"George!" Ringo hissed. "Be careful!" George gave him the thumbs up, his
arms waving in little circles to keep his balance. "I don't think Ashley
would be too thrilled if you plummeted to your death!" Ringo pointed out
astutely. George just rolled his eyes.
The Fab Three listened intently as the fog slowly hissed onto the stage,
spilling gently over the floorboards. The winches holding up the four 98
Degrees boys began to whirr, slowly lowering their cargo. Ringo motioned to
the others to get to work.
As the first strains of the boyband abomination rang through the air, the
three Beatles were hard at work. George carefully inched his way up to the
first wires, holding the wire cutters in his teeth. Pulling them out of his
mouth, he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. Reaching out as far as he
could, George snipped at the wires holding up Drew's harness and boogie
board. Slowly the wires frayed, and then one of the two wires snapped.
One of the singers below hit a terribly wrong note, then there was heard a
loud thud, and George laughed so hard he almost fell off the beam. Ringo
flashed him a huge grin and a thumbs up, then set back to work.
Ringo gingerly snipped at the wire holding Justin's harness, waiting until
it was almost all the way down so it wouldn't kill him, just make them screw
up. Which they already were, considering Drew's mess up. Ringo gave the wire
one last good snip, and it snapped, causing another terrible squawk from
below. Ringo laughed triumphantly, holding his cutters high.
John sniggered helplessly, having trouble getting the wire cutters to the
wire. Time was running out; the members were almost to the stage. George was
already working on Nick, while Ringo was crawling to help John with Jeff's
wires.
Ringo inched up on the opposite side of the wires, snagging them with his
cutters. "Ready, John?"
"Ready!"
"On three...one...two..three!" Another ear-piercing, most feminine screech
graced their ears, and John gave Ringo a high five. George finished his
task, but a little too late; Nick was only a foot above the stage. He fell
on his bum, cursing loudly into the microphone. The superior angels watched
with no sign of emotion on their stony faces. As the four boys fell to the
stage like rocks, a few eyebrows were raised.
Angel 002 leaned over to angel
004. "This modern music...so strange, don't you think?" Angel 004 nodded
back, a confused look on her shimmering face.
"Not too bad, I suppose."
The boyband gathered themselves sloppily, returning to the places where they
were *supposed* to land. Paul got to his place, sniggering so loudly he
found it near to impossible to sing. Eventually, they finished, and the
Superior Angels held up cards:
6.5, 7.0, 5.5, 6.0.
The four injured members stumbled offstage, leaning heavily on each other.
"Well!" Paul said cheerfully. "That went well, didn't it?"
The four 98 Degrees boys glared at him. "Oh, fuck off."