Once upon a time, there lived in a small seaport called Liddypool called a man lived there by the name of John. “John!” his friends would call.
“What?” he would reply. He was a nice lad.
“Yeah, but he’s a nice lad,” said his best friend Paul.
As it were, John is a part of a very popular band called the Beatles with an A. Paul, George, Ringo, they are there as well. But this story is about John and his adventures.
“Adventures?” John asks, amazementally. “Why, what adventures, friend?”
“Well, umm…what about the time you wanted to chop me finger off?” says Ringo.
“Or the time you showed the Blue Meanies love?” says George.
“Or the time you disappeared from the bathtub?” says Paul.
“Or the time…”
“Or the time…”
“Or the time…”
“Alright! Stop! You’ve made your point. But none of those stories are really adventuristic,” comments John.
Well John, this one is…
“Oh, right. Sorry Mr. Man, please continue…” John takes a seat.
Uh umm…
Once upon a time, there lived…
“Wait!” John shouts.
What now?
“You’ve already read that, son…”
Oh, my dear lad, I’m very sorry.
“Alright.”
One day, John woke up to his great pasture to find that he was a tiny, tiny man.
“Are you CRAZY????!!!!” John interrupts loudy. “That’s not in the script! You’re lyin’!”
John, do you want me to read your story or not.
“But…”
I could close the book now and there will be no more to say about you.
“Alright, I’m sorry…”
Thank you. Apology accepted.
“Grr…”
Anyway…where was I?
“Pasture…woke up…tiny…” George reminds me.
Oh, right…right..
Uh umm…
“My goodness, but I’m small!” he shouted with glee. (For he had always wanted to be small.) He ran over to his friend Paul’s house and knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” came a voice which was Paul’s.
“Why it ‘tis me, your friend John!” John said with a laugh.
“You cannot be John,” Paul sniffed with a sniff. “John’s voice is low and your’s is too high.”
“But it is me!” John squeaked, getting nervous. “I promise you! Please open the door. The most wonderful thing has happened.”
But alas, the door stayed shut, if not locked. His dear friend Paul did not believe him. His voice had changed, his size had changed too. The poor little lad didn’t know what to do.
And so he trudged home with his heart in his shoe.
Golly, you know, I’ve never seen him so blue.
“That’s not a very happy story,” says John with a sob.
“I would never say those things to me friend,” says Paul.
Aye, aye, but it is only a story. I didn’t write it…
“Well who did?” asks John.
Well,the writer of course!
“Keep reading, friend,” says Ringo with excitement. “This is one of the first Beatle stories that doesn’t put me at risk.”
The other three promptly smack Ringo on the head as I read on.
The next morning, John awoke with surprise. He was much smaller now than those other three guys. He thought for a moment of what he should do. Then he shrugged his shoulders and left to see the other two.
When he got to George’s house, he gasped at the sight. One large, green blade of grass was blocking his sight. “I’ll have to climb it,” he said with alarm. Then up the tall grass he did go with much charm.
George was sitting on his porch enjoying the day when John waved his arms and shouted, “Hey!”.
But alas, George didn’t twitch. He didn’t move or smile. John stood on that grassblade for quite a while. “Oh George, please help! I need somebody!” he started to cry.
He climbed down the grassblade and found his way home. And on his way, he got mugged by a nome.
“That’s it! I don’t like this story anyore,” says John.
George looks at me funny and scowls.
“I would never do that to one of my mates,” he says angrily.
I know, I’m sorry. But I must finish the story.
The next day, John awoke to find out that he was too small to whistle or shout. “Oh no!” cried John. “Now what can I do?” So he packed his things and called out, “Boo hoo.”
He came to Ringo’s house where he found his friend atop a basset hound. He was one inch tall from his head to his heel. John pinched himself to make sure it was real.
“What happened to you?” Ringo said with a laugh.
“The same thing that’s happened to you, so don’t laugh,” John replied.
“But what HAS happened to us?” asked the drummer.
“I don’t know,” said John.
“Bummer.”
Suddy there was a knock at the door. In came Paul and George to complete the fab four. They both were tiny, as tiny as could be. When John saw them, he chuckled, “Tee hee.”
“Ah, what’s so funny?” said Paul.
“Why’re you laughing?” asked George.
John caught his breath and said, “Though I don’t know how…we could pass for real beetles now.”
And all the lads laughed and giggled with glee. They were back together, as happy as could be.
And until next time my friend, I’m afraid that it’s
The End
“That’s a nice story,” says John.
I told you.
“Now tell me another…”
No, no, that’s all for today.
“Please, Mr. Man?”
Not now, go away!
Back to John
Back to Beatle Stories!
