In the dark winter of '31 a singular enigma occurred within the walls of the venusian embassy. Marco Polo cursed into the darkness venting his malice with the dysfunctioning parking meter. Whoosh a small silver spaceship shot through the air.

The mystery that had been brought up in the embassy had a strange link with the dysfunctional parking meter. The mystery concerned an odd virus that fatigued metal rapidly. No metal was safe, except for silver. The silver spaceship was on a mission to stop the mission. But this could not be done alone, that was why John, George, Paul and Ringo were going to get help from a people who them a debt for saving their world, the people of Pepperland!

Back in Pepperland the people were being persecuted by a purple Pepper People eater. The Beatles arrived and soon vanquished the monster.

Much to the dismay of the fab 4, the folks of Pepperland didn't quite understand them and thought they were the beagles and were expecting 4 dogs.

"When will the pups arrive?" asked Mayor Miller.

"Maybe Mayor Miller misses the mark," mumbled McCartney.

Then, suddenly, Glove showed up on the scene with fire in his finger. As he blew

citizens to bits, the Beatles jumped into the half a hole in Ringo's pocket.

"The Pepperland people didn't have a sneeze of a chance," said John.

They fell through the darkness.

Ringo followed through the hole, muttering, "I'm always being left behind." The Beatles landed in Mrs. Gamby's 5th period social studies class. Adam Fitzgerald walked to the front of the room.

"I bet you can't guess who I have! Marco!"

The class echoed, "Polo!"

"Marco!"

"Polo!"

The class went on and on. The Beatles weren't even noticed in the havoc. They soon left this place, and they noticed on the street that no one paid attention to them. That was odd, and a little bit pleasant. No one could ignore them where they lived.

Meanwhile, Glove took the silver ship back to the time it had come from. He shot the first thing he saw, which happened to be the parking meter. This parking meter contained a bug shaped like a nickelpede, the bug that was causing the metal fatigue. The bug was killed and the epidemic faded.

Back in 1997, the Beatles were becoming a little unnerved. Things were different than usual.

"Good day," said a voice behind them. They turned around to see a very small proper English gentleman. "I don't believe that you are in the correct time."

They treated him to confused stares.

"Oh, I beg your pardon. I don't believe that I have introduced myself. I am Herbert George Wells."

"The Writer?" George asked.

"Aren't you DEAD?!!!!!" asked Paul.

"No. Well, in your time, yes, but not at the moment. I'm a time traveler. It's a long story," he said to the befuddled Beatles.

"Where are we?" asked George, eyeing the scenery.

"I almost forgot. I need to show you this." With these words, he extracted a small remote shaped device."

"What's that thingy?" asked John.

As soon as the words escaped his lips, they saw older versions of themselves, computers, and other new fangled versions of themselves. Now they WERE confused! Herb explained how the hole in Ringo's pocket led to the future. But as it was only half a hole, it did not hurl them into eternity, but only a little farther ahead. The time traveler checked his machine and informed them that they should be going in a minute. He pressed a button on the remote. Nothing happened.

"Not gettin' anywheres, are you time traveler?" John looked at the others and rolled his eyes. "Time traveler."

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear," he said shaking the remote and hitting it against his hand until something was jolted into place and it worked.

They journeyed back into their own time.

Upon reaching there, they saw Glove aiming at a gas tank. Uh oh! We've got trouble. Right here in River City. OK, Liverpool. But anyways, it was TROUBLE that starts with 't' that rhymes with 'p' that stands for pool. Liverpool, that is. The tension grew as the Beatles began to begin the battle.

While this was going on, Herb took a small ornate pocket watch out of his coat pocket and opened it. It was time for him to leave. He faded out of the picture, leaving the Beatles to the task at hand. OK, task at glove.

Things were about to get nasty, when Ringo stated profoundly, "You can't be here. You've got no reality," to the animated blue glove.

Paul struck the chords of "Get Back" on his trusty dusty portable collapsible guitar and sang along. "Get back! Get back! Get back to where you once belonged!" Paul broke the mental block which had stopped his composing for weeks and finally decided on lyrics to a new song. With these words, Glove quivered and puffed into a cloud of cartoon smoke, which soon cleared. Now the scene changed to one of elation, with John and George swinging in a circle, linked by their elbows, Ringo trying persistently to kick his heels in the air, and Paul busily writing the lyrics to a new hit.