April 13, 1965

RING! George and Paul leaped out of their beds and began their morning exercises. John watched them for a minute and then looked at Ringo who was still in bed. John sighed to himself and crawled out of his bed/pit and walked to Ringo's room.

"Wakey wakey Wingo, time to get up and go to school," John said in a sing-song mommy voice. A groan was the reply. "C'mon Ringo, we're having kippers for breakfast. I'll even burn them, just the way you like!"

Ringo moaned weakly, "Lemme alone *cough*."

"Aww, Ringo's under the weather?" Paul asked, going over to Ringo's room.

Ringo moaned again.

"What's wrong Ringo?" John asked.

"My throat hurts, my head hurts, I'm all hot, and I'm achy and inflamatious." Ringo moaned.

"That's... lovely," George said, joining them.

"Stay in bed Ringo." Paul said. "You need some rest."

"About two hours, eh?" John said. "Maybe a day or so. Otherwise, we'll have to call a doctor." George said.

"So?"

"A doctor! They have needles and pills and cold thingys and sticks and stuff!"

"So?"

"I just don't think that Ringo would want to have a doctor look at him."

"You would."

"What that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing..."

"You're insulting me because I don't like medical thingies!"

"Try saying how terrified you are of them chicken boy."

"You're unsulting me!"

"Balk balk balk!"

"Take that back!"

"Balk balk balk! Look at me! I'm little baby Georgie! I run away and scream like a girl at the site of a thermometer!"

George made a leap at John.

"People! This is no time to fight!" cried out Paul. John acedentally kicked him in the shins. "Hey!" Paul joined in the battle fists and feet flying.

After apologies were made and bandaids and stingy stuff were passed out, the three healthy Beatles decided to stay home and take care of their sick comrad.

"Eat this orange Ringo." Paul said, taking an orange from one of the vending machines.

"It hurts to swallow *cough cough*" Ringo said hoarsley.

"Too bad. It has vitamins and stuff to help you feel better."

"Fine."

May 27,1965

RING! Paul and George leaped out of bed and began their morning exersizes. John giggled a bit and saw that Ringo was still in bed. "Wake up Ringo." John said.

"No. *cough cough*" Ringo moaned.

John went to the kitchen and came back with ice. Ringo snatched it from him and put it on his forehead. "That was supposed to go down your shirt." Ringo curled up and went back to sleep. John looked at him a bit and got some vitamins.

June 12, 1965

BANG... BANG... BANG...

John woke up from his sleep. "Gah, it's six in the morning! Somebody's gonna die..." He looked to his right and saw George, repeatedly walking into the wall. John hucked the alarm clock at him and George went back to sleep.

"*cough cough* Do we have any more of those cough drops that taste *cough* like rotten cherries?" asked Ringo.

"*yawn* They're on your nightdesk." yawned Paul. He and John went back to sleep and Ringo fainted.

July 6, 1965

RING! Paul marched out of bed and stood next to John's pit where he was still asleep. Paul whipped out a trumpet and began playing it. "STAND IN ATTENTION SOLDIER!" barked Paul. John got right up. "HUP TWO THREE FOUR! HUP TWO THREE FOUR! MOVE THOSE LEGS SOLDIER! FASTER! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!" John ran right out the door and around the block.

"Thank you." George yawned as he went back to sleep.

"You're welcome." Paul said as he got comfy in his bed.

"Gah, my head..."

"Don't tell me you're sick again Ringo!" exclaimed Paul.

"*Cough cough cough* Okay *cough!*" moaned Ringo.

"That's the fourth illness in four months!" said George

"We're going to call the doctor." said Paul.

Later that morning...

"Open please." said Dr. Peterson. Ringo opened his mouth so Dr. Peterson could take his temperature. "And how are you feeling today Mr. Starkey?"

"Werr, me froa--"

"Shush, don't talk with the thermometer in your mouth." After a few minutes of hmm's, tisks, and an oh my Dr. Peterson came to his conclusion. "It's just a cold."

"That's it? It's not some deadly tropical disease that will turn Ringo orange and make him cough and wheeze up his slowly decaying organs untill he gets such a high temprature he'll combust?" asked John.

"It's just a cold. He needs rest." And with that, Dr. Peterson left.

"I never did trust that man," said Paul.

"Why not?" asked John.

"Remember that time when we were kids and George got the chicken pox and Doc Peterson said that it was food poisoning?" said Paul.

"Ugh, don't remind me." said George

"So?" asked John.

"Remember a few months ago when Paul got food poisoning and Doc said that it was turkey pox? Turkey pox don't even exist!" said George.

"So?"

"Remember when you got that bad migraine and Doc Peterson said that you were dying of a massive brain tumor but it turns out that it was just a migraine?" said Paul.

"Oh yeah. So you're are saying that maybe Peterson misdiagnosed Ringo?" asked John.

"YES!" George shouted.

"Quiet! He's fallen asleep again." said Paul.

"So?" asked John.

"I just don't want to take care Ringo when he's cranky. You know how he is when he's like that."

"So?"

Paul rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen for breakfast.

"What're we having?" asked George.

"Cheese pie." said Paul. John and George went into the kitchen to choke down breakfast.

Ringo woke up a few minutes later feeling thirsty. He tried to call for a drink but nothing came out. Gah, I lost my voice, Ringo thought. Still feeling thirsty, Ringo got out of bed and went to the refridgerator for some milk. As he sat down to milk his beloved cow, he started to feel woozy. Everything went black.

Paul heard some glass breaking. "What was that?"

"Sounds like glass breaking." said John. "Go see what happened George."

"Why me?" asked George.

"Majority rules."

"Fine." George got up and walked out of the kitchen. He decided to ask the cow if she saw anything so he walked into the fridge. There he saw Ringo lying unconcious by cow's feet. "Were his hands to cold again?"

"Moo."

"Hmm. Hey guys!" George yelled. "Get in here!"

"What is it?" asked Paul as he and John ran in.

"Ringo's unconcious." said George.

"So?" asked John.

"Maybe we should take him to the hospital." said Paul.

John picked up Ringo and said, "To the hospital!"

***

"Ringo! Wake up!"

"C'mon and open those peepers,"

"'Open those peepers'?"

"Shut up."

"*groan* What happened?"

"What was that?"

"He's awake!"

"He is?"

"Yes! See? His eyes are open and he mumbled something."

"What?"

"I'm George."

"I'm John."

"And I'm Paul."

"Nice to meet you Paul!"

"Nice to meet you George!"

"Pleasure meeting you George."

"Same to you John."

"Greetings John."

"Hello Paul!"

"Hello everybody! I'm Ringo and I don't know why I'm here wearing a dress thingy."

"You passed out." said George.

"I did?" asked Ringo.

"Yup. Cow was the witness."

"Doc said you have a severe case of tonsilitis and you're too sick for them to operate on you." said John.

"You might have to stay a week or two." said Paul.

"Gah, that means I have to spend me birthday in a hospital." moaned Ringo.

"Don't let it bother you. We all have bad birthdays sometime or another," said George.