George lie awake staring at the cracked ceiling. Anticipation kept him awake. The New York sunlight shined through the numerous holes in the curtain. He was perspiring terribly; the hotel had no air condition.
"Oh, sod it all," he thought. "What in the world am I doing in this place?" The floor was very hard, and it was apparent that the carpet was not meant to cushion. There were stains dotting the pea-hued carpet. George sighed and rolled over, only to run into John's foot. John was snoring soundly, and George rolled his eyes. John could sleep through anything, no matter the circumstances. He looked to the other side to see Paul's feet hanging off of the bed. Ringo was on the other side of the bed. Paul had won the right to sleep on the bed through numerous games of rock paper scissors. George recalled how John had cursed madly when he learned that he had to endure the crusty floor for the night. But, it was obvious that he had gotten over it rather quickly.
George got up and stretched his limbs, hearing a satisfying crack from every joint in his body. He sighed in relief, and rolled his head to try to relieve some of the tension in his neck. Then, reached over to the bedside table and tried to teach himself how to work the remote control. Finally, he got it, and he flipped the television on. He flipped through some of the channels, thoroughly fascinated with every single channel. Then he came across a channel titled MTV. There was a girl on the television. She was dancing rather strangely in a grotesque looking red cat suit. George wasn't sure if he was more appalled at the ignorance of it, or amused at the fact that someone had the courage to put something that disgusting on and dance so strangely. After much debate, he decided that it was indeed a mating dance. He soon learned that he was watching some bird named Britney Spears, and he laughed quietly to himself. Suddenly, Paul stirred and rose his head.
"Who's she?" He asked groggily.
"Britney Spears," George replied, not taking his eyes from the television.
"Oh," Paul replied, laying back down. The next video, to George's horror, Was a Backstreet Boy's video. George watched intently. he couldn't believe how completely stupid the concept of the video was. He was most definatley appalled, and the sound of the boyband's disgusting whining was enough to wake up the other three sleeping beauties.
"Oh bloody 'ell!!" John exclaimed. "It's THEM!!!! Ican't believe they do that and enjoy it!!!"
"Look at that fan base! Do we even bring in that many people?" Paul asked.
"Of course we do!" John said, scolding Paul for thinking something so ridiculous. But he did have a point. There were quite a few people there. It was obviously a special on one of the boybands, and from the looks of it, it was the same band that they had seen last night.
"Hey, I'm Brian."
"I'm Kevin."
"I'm Howie."
"Nick, y'all"
"A.J. We're the Backstreet Boys, Peace Out."
"Peace out? What in the 'ell is that supposed to mean?" George asked.
"I bet they're all Nazi's!!! the whole lot of them!!" Ringo commented. The other three turned their heads in Ringo's direction after such a surprisng outburst.
"Richie...I think you're on to something," John said, on the verge of an Earth shattering concept.
"Of COURSE I am on something! so are you!"
"HOLY CUCUMBERS!!!! Ringo, you silly sod, you've done it! You've DONE IT!!!!" Paul yelled enthusiastically.
"So have you, so quite accusing me and singling me out!!! You're guilty of doing it too!!!"
"No!!!! The Backstreet Boys! They ARE Nazi's!"
"But that's ridiculous, Paul! Nazi's had blonde hair and blue eyes!" George put in.
"Maybe they are planning to dye their hair blonde. They could even get new eyes of the color blue. Lord knows they probably have the technology, John stated, pacing back and forth excitedly.
"But I don't think they are Nazi's! I think they are bloody thirsty wizards that are using dark magic to win over crowds of unsuspecting youg teenagers," George said. John frowned and crossed his arms.
'I still thing they are Nazi's," he said.
"I don' think Nazi's that disturbingly ugly could win over that many millions of fans," George retorted. his deep brown eyes burrowed into the depths of John's.
"'E's got a point, Johnny," Ringo said quietly.
"Okay, so maybe they aren't Nazi's. But it was a humerous thought, admit that," John finally concluded.
"YEAH it was!" Paul said.
"Now, how to prove they are black magic wizards..." George said thoughtfully. "And how do we get into their secret lair? And just HOW do we stop them?" this was going to be a loooooooooooooooong day.
*********** ******************* ****************
The lads checked out of the Hotel around 10:30. It was a humid day outside, yet they forged on in the unbareable heat.
"John...I know you didn't have that much American money with you, God bless you for having some at all. But do we have enough to gather for some food?" George asked, rather pathetically.
"we have to save it for something more. Hey!! Let's go to the mall!!!" John said, eyeing the immense building across the highway. ***Note- i don't live in New York City, and as much as I want to, I know NOTHING of the malls or anything there, so this is just a big...make-believe mall!!***
"Something more?" Paul asked skeptically.
"No, it will be much cooler in there! Come 'ead lads, let's rest a while." They crossed the highway, and entered the building. They breathed a heavy sigh of relief in the cool, air condtitioned environment.
"Hey, this place is pretty gear. Let's do something interesting," George said, peering at all the items in the windows. Suddenly, Paul gasped.
"Look!!!!" he said, eyes wide. Coming at them were four lads that had a striking resemblance to all four of them. As they neared eachother, the "fake four" smiled and waved.
"'Ey, are you lads going to the Beatles' impersonator contest later?" The fake John asked in an obviously fake Liverpuddlian accent.
"um..yes. Except...well, we lost all of our equipment...in a fire," John said. Ringo smirked at John's *little* white lie.
"Oh, that's too bad. Hey, you can use ours! it's not the top of the line, but we are planning on winning anyway, so it wouldn't bother us. Maybe you'll be second place!" John's eyes narrowed, and he was about to retort when Paul interrupted.
"Oh, that would be really gear of you! Thanks."
"Oh, and a word of advice- when you are doing the accent, make sure you make more of an "o" sound on your "a's"," said the fake George. Paul's eyebrows wrinkled, and John was past boiling point, but Ringo was the one to save them this time.
"Thanks for the advice. Where's this contest?"
"An hour and a half in the center of the mall. There is a 500 dollar prize!" The fake Ringo said.
"Okay, we'll be there!" They walked on, and John cursed.
"They were critiquing a REAL Liverpuddlian accent, did you SEE that? I'll give 'im something to 'ave an ego about.."
"Whoa John, settle down. This will be a PERFECT chance to get some money!" George said, thinking rather clearly at the moment.
And so our Beatley heroes found themselves sidetracked for lack of money. We can only hope that their "impersonation" turns out for the best!
************ ********************* ***************
Section3
"Welcome to the first annual Beatles impersonator contest!!! We've got 6 bands competing for the title! First place gets 500 dollars, second place gets 100, and third place gets 50!!! Let's get underway with our first band..." the announcer went on and on and on. John rolled his eyes and munched on a carrot. There were food trays near them, and they were just happy to get food in their stomach. The first batch of fake Beatles began to play "She Loves You."
"did you 'ear that?!?! They missed the first B in measure 16! That's just....well that's just wrong!!" Paul said in sheer disgust. "How DARE they miss the B in measure 16!" ***I don't even know if there is a B in measure 16, but we'll pretend ther e is***
"Oh well. It's not that bad. I mean...it could be worse. They could have missed the A flat in measure 46 and the screwed up the harmonies," said John, not really interested in the least.
"Can we GO now? I want to get this over with so that we can win and I can save the world!" George said irritably.
"Get over it, Spiderman, we need the money," John shot back.
"Spiderman? What? NO! I am Superman," George said.
"You? Superman? no, I am Superman. You are...WonderWoman."
"WonderWoman? I can't be wonderwoman! I'm...I'm MALE!!!"
"How can you be sure?" John asked.
"Well...." George said uncomfortably. he pointed downward, and John fell over laughing.
"That doesn't tell me anything." George wrinkled his bag of potato chips nervously. John watched him intently, savoring every moment of this outrageously hilarious event. Then he took notice of the bag...chips. That sounded rather appealing.
"HEY!!!! Quit looking at my package you sick son of a bit-"
"John! George! We're on in five!" Paul interrupted. They had decided to play "Ticket to Ride" because it was one of their "new" songs. The "fake Beatles" they had met before were up now singing a song that the Beatles didn't even recognize. It was something about a Pepper band or something, which they just didn't understand.
"I wonder which one of us wrote THAT song," Paul said, rolling his eyes.
"And now, our sixth and final band, who just signed up about an hour ago!" The four ran out, and a hush fell over the crowd when they saw the resemblence. The lads knew that they might be a little rusty. They hadn't played in a while, and they had never performed the song in front of anyone. Regardless, they started. Things began fine. Tempo kept up nicely. A phantom metronome ticked loudly in Ringo's head as he drummed into oblivion. John and Paul's voiced were a little scratchy, but it wasn't too bad. George just did his thing, still mad at John for looking at his "package." The hardest thing was getting used to the technology. The speakers magnifyed their sound with such clarity that it startled the four. The guitars were exquisite, nothing that John, Paul, or George had really played on before. Ringo was amazed at the size of the drum kit. They played hard and put up a good fight, but they were still uncomfortable and made a few bobbles. Nothing huge. God forbid Paul miss the B in the sixteenth measure. And finally they came to a triumphant stop. The crowd went crazy! The Beatles were so proud. They had accomplished something great for themselves. They left the stage boasting with self-confidence. They were invincible now, and the BSB had no clue what was hurling toward their way.
***************** ************************ ******************
"The judges had quite a time, but after much debate, they chose the final 3. Our second runner up....band #1!!!!!" Paul's jaw dropped, and just as he was about to complain about the miss of the sacred "B", John smacked his hand.
"Shut yer hole, McCartney."
" For our $100 prize, the first runner up is...Band number 6!!!" all four of the Beatles jaws dropped open. The four walked on stage and solemnly accepted their prizes. When they got down, John exploded.
"What the 'ELL?!?!?! We lost a contest....to people...who were impersonating...us? But...but...They...aren't us...We Are US!!!" Ringo's lower lip trembled.
"I did good.....this is wrong. This is all wrong."
"I can't...I can't believe it," George said quietly. And, to make matters worse, the band whose equipment they had used...won. This was a humungous blow to their egos...until they spotted someone slightly familiar.
"Good GOD!!! It....it's THEM!!!" George said rather loudly.
"No, you must be mistaken. That's not 'THEM'," Paul said.
"It's a disguise!! It's a terrible disguise! Look! It is THEM!!" John squinted his eyes.
"Holy cucumbers...'e's right. It IS THEM."
The four decided that it was time to spy. So, Paul gestured for them to follow, and they followed the group of greasy, blood-sucking, confused musician wannabes. It probably looked odd. Four Beatles, dressed as Beatles, with a sum of only about $125.00 in their pocket, following five people that looked ironically like a stupid boyband.
"Look at that fake wig that that Nick guy has on. It's got fake blonde curls that look like they haven't been dyed in 6 months! It's half blonde and half brown! And look at it...it looks like an afro!" Ringo was in a state of shock, when John began to analyze what he'd said. people were starting to notice that four guys, dressed as the Beatles, walking around in perfectly good view, but trying to blend in with the cream colored wall, were following the five "musicians." It was quite a funny sight. They were so excited that they would get too close. To give themselves some room, they threw themselves against the wall and tried to blend in. Hey, forget that they had on black suits. EVERYTHING blends in with cream walls, right?
"Lads, I don't think this is working. We are going to have to confront them ourselves," Paul was saying.
"Paul...wait. I don't think that those are the Backstreet Boys."
"WHAT do you MEAN?!?! WHO ELSE would go out in public dressed like complete and utter idiotic FOOLS?!??! OF COURSE it is the Backstreet Boys. I mean...there are five of them, right? They all look slightly fruity. They all have the attractive face of a damn DOG! Who else do you think they are?"
"Them." John pointed at a great big poster. They were right outside a music store, and there were the people that they had been following. John was right. It wasn't the Backstreet Boys at all.
"NSYNC?" They all asked in confusion.
"Well.....well....what the 'ell does NSYNC mean? Well, that's about as pansy, half-assed as the Backstreet Boys!!"
"I am sorry to interrupt such an important dialouge, but we're losing them!" George said.
"Uh-oh. Let's go kick some teeny sucking ass." Well, around this time George and Ringo began to get scared of Paul and John. They just had a sheer hatred for anyone with pansy-assed stage names. NSYNC and the Backstreet Boys were not favored in this battle. The four caught up with the five, and John put his hand on the blonde's shoulder. He turned around, as did the rest of the band.
"Who in the living hell are you?" Asked a guy with red hair.
"We're the Beatles. We're here to kick your ass." John brought his hand back and punched the "blonde beauty" in the nose. He stepped back, blood gushing from the wound.
"What the hell-" the red haired guy asked, but then Paul lashed out at him, kicking and punching him.
"NO!!!!!" A guy with spikey blonde hair was yelling. He got on Paul's back and tried to break red haired guy free from the headlock Paul had him in. Ringo and George shrunk back in terror, but not before two guys with brown hair pursued them. One of them smacked George across the face.
"You little SON OF A-" but before he could get the last word out he had already tackled one of them and was beating him on the floor. Ringo looked helplessly at the mess of people. The other brown headed guy, whose name was J.C., stood off to the side with Ringo. He learned all of their names. Justin(curly blonde), Lance (spikey blonde), Joey (brown/red headed, Chris (The one George was kicking), and himself.
"Well, I suppose I should be kicking your ass now, but I really don't feel like it," J.C., finished. Ringo stepped back and narrowed his eyes.
"What? Kicking MY ass? No, I believe I would be kicking YOUR ass." That's when J.C. pushed Ringo. Ringo shoved J.C. And suddenly they went into a mass frenzy of beating eachother to a bloody palp. Infact, it was so interesting that everyone else stopped fighting just to watch this strange occurance. The Beatles had never really seen Ringo get that violent. Suddenly it was like they were at a wrestling match.
"Come 'ead Ring! You can do it!!"
"Don't listen to the pansy-assed British wannabes!!! COme on, J.C." John's eyes burned with evil intentions.
"British wannabes?" And then, the fight started all over again. But soon enough, they had to stop.
"Well well well, look what we have here, Nick."
"Yeah, A.J. it looks like NSYNC Fags fighting fab four freaks!" It was the EVIL BACKSTREET BOYS!!!!
"Try saying that one 3 times fast," Ringo commented sarcastically. Nick looked at A.J., his brow furrowed.
"Nsync fags fighting fab four freaks. Nsync fags fighting fab four freaks." A.J. clapped with joy.
"look, guys!!! I made a tounge twister!" Howie D came up and smacked A.J. across the face. The Beatle's eyes sparkled with desire to create Backstreet Boys carnage. If their feelings toward NSYNC were hatred, then their feelings toward backstreet Boys had all gone to hell.
"On the count of three, we attack," John's nose was bleeding, and his arms were sore, but his voice was in a low, evil rasp.
"1.......2....."
"I don't think so, boys. I believe I am going to have to ask you to leave." And the day is saved, thanks to...Mall Security!!So, NSYNC collected themselves and walked out of the mall, staring back in disgust at both the Beatles and the Backstreet Boys, but definately more hatred for the latter of the two. And the Beatles trudged out, passionate about the cause, but even more passionate about beating the crap out of the Backstreet Boys. They were going down. ******************* ******************* *******************
well, The Beatles were back in the humid New York climate.
"I can't believe that!! I was so close to tearing them apart with my teeth!!!!" John said wearily. "If I ever get my hands on that mother fu-," suddenly a long, black, stretch limo pulled up to them. A female's head popped out. Or, the Beatles prayed it was female because...well, the head teetered on the line between male and female.
"The Missing Link!!" Ringo burst out, eyes wide. He smacked a hand over his mouth. "Did I say that out loud?" The..."it's" eyes widened, and then narrowed to tiny slits.
"You watch your backs, Beatle whores," "it" was saying. "I'll make your life a living hell.....and I am NOT THE DAMN MISSING LINK!!!!!!!!!" He smiled sweetly, spat at them, flipped them off, and then was gone.
"A Backstreet Fag!!! AH!" John said, flipping the car off from behind.
"You do know that this means war," George said. Ringo still had his hand over his mouth. He wasn't known to be a very violent person. These heathens were bringing out the worst in all of the Beatles. And if they were doing this to the Beatles...what were they doing to the rest of the world?
******************** ************************ ***************
Won't you join me for part 3?
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