The year was 1968 and the Beatles, the band that went from singing about puppy love, to now singing about drugs and other great things that came to mind. Just making the white album was a living hell for all the band members. Paul was complaining about the quality of the music and would want to play the same song over and over aging till he was satisfied. John would show up late with his new girl, Yoko, which is against the rules to bring in their women while working. George was pushing to get more of his songs onto the album and Ringo as usual, was forgotten in the back, sitting on his drum stool.
" This is starting to get ridiculous." He thought as he watched Paul and John argue about what lyrics should be added into "Happiness is a warm gun."
Later Paul wanted to practice some more.
" Ok, from the top." Paul said sternly.
" But we've sang this song ten bloody times now." George groaned.
" So, we'll do it till we get it right."
" I thought the last take was just fine."
" Talk to me Harrison, when your breath doesn't smell like weed."
They got into a shouting match that soon turned physical. John and Paul stayed in the studio while George and Ringo went outside to smoke.
"I don't know what the fuck he's talking about." George blew the ciggie smoke out of his mouth, " He grows the damn plant in his back yard."
Ringo nodded, looking onto the empty steert. He was happy to see it like this. Though not the same as it once was, beatlemania was still around, girls still ran to get a glimpse of them.
" Hey, look." Ringo pulled out a piece of paper from his jacket pocket, " Been working on this song for a while, I'm hoping Paul and John would let me play it."
" Maybe, go and show them."
XXXX
Ringo went inside and found Paul, who was listening to one of their takes. He had gain headphones on, he couldn't hear the loudest alarm go off. Ringo taped him on the shoulder, Paul nearly jumped out of his seat.
"What the hell is that matter with ya, can't you I'm busy."
Ringo rolled his eyes, " Read this," he handed Paul the piece of paper, " I wanted to put it on the album."
Paul just shook his head, " We already have enough songs on both sides."
" But why not just add in one more song?"
" You think it's just that easy, just add another song, well it not!"
" You're full of shit, McCartney, I've been trying to get my songs sung for 2 years now. You're just jealous. "
" Oh, please while you write one song, I can have five songs by the time your done."
Ringo huffed, " You're making a big deal out of nothing!"
They screamed and screamed and didn't even notice John and George enter the studio again.
" That's it," Ringo grabbed his coat, " I'm done."
" No, you're not, we still have to work." Paul snapped back.
" No! I'm clearly not wanted here and you all will be better off without me!" Ringo slammed the door behind him. The other three Beatles stood in silence.
XXXXX
It's been a little over a week since Ringo walked out. They went on recording but it wasn't the same. Though Paul did a good job at playing the drums, it didn't have that special Ringo sound.
" How the hell am I suppose to sing and drum at the same time." Paul slummed in the stool.
" Well, maybe if you didn't make our drummer leave, you wouldn't have this problem." John mumbled.
" Heard that, Lennon."
" Well, I miss Ringo." John said sadly.
"Me too." George agreed.
Paul was still slumping, but then his expression started to soften. Ringo was one of his closest mates. Though they fought a lot in the studio, they still had fun out side of there. Ringo was wanted, in fact ... he was needed.
" Damn, I can be a real jerk." Paul realized.
" No shit, sherlock," John chuckled, Paul gave him a nasty stare, " I'm just teasing."
" I need to go and talk to him." Paul said.
XXXXX
Ringo got up from his couch when he heard the door bell go off. Paul was standing out side, holding a postcard in his hand.
" Read it first." Pal handed it to him.
It read , " You are the greatest drummer in the world. Really."
" I figured I wanted to give it to you then send it to you," Ringo nodded, " We need you back, Ringo. You are wanted, we need a drummer. And you're the only drummer the Beatles want. You've very good, and I'm sorry I've been so hard on you. I want my friend back, no my brother back." Paul was tearing up.
" Ok, one condition."
" Sure what?"
" We record my song."
"What, I told you-" Ringo started to slowly close the door, doing so for dramatic effect, " Fine! We'll do your song."
" Well let's go then, we got an album to record."
XXXXXX
When the returned to Abbey Road, George told Ringo to cover his eyes, they had a surprise for him.
" Ohhh, I hope it's a pet octopus," Ringo squealed, " I've always wanted one."
" Uhhhh, it's close enough to an octopus." John said.
" Okay, open your eyes."
Ringo did. His drum kit was covered in flowers. Red paper hearts were on there as well.
" I'm touched, really fellas, I am." Ringo said trying to hold back tear."
" John thought it was a good idea to get you this too." George handed him a stuffed octopus.
" OH MY GOD, I got a me an octopus!" Ringo started to hug it and ran around with his new toy.
" He's back." John smiled.