Hello there, BS speaking here. While browsing through TvTropes I found a link to today's fanfic, which is about The Beatles. Did I mention that I found this on the S.B.I.H (so bad it's horrible) section? And that it is a one-shot with 9,414 friggin' words? Yeah. So, let's get started!


"Oh…Paul…do it more…MORE…HARDER! FASTER! PAUL! OH PAUL!" I moaned and gasped as Paul thrust deeply inside of me.

BS: Note to fanfic authors: don't open up your fic on a sex scene. EVER.

We breathed heavily as we rocked rhythmically back and forth together on the bed. Then I started to get this strange feeling as Paul caressed my breasts and he slid his tongue into my mouth. A feeling almost like I was coming into him, even though I knew that that was impossible.

BS: (Paul) Honey, will you stop pissing on me while we are having sex?

Right before he came, he pulled out, because we didn't want (or need) me to get pregnant.

BS: Wuss.

The next morning…

BS: IN PEPPERLAND…

"I feel sick," Paul said as he clutched his stomach.

BS: Must have been a bad quesadilla.

"Oh, baby, was it something you ate last night?"

BS: See, she agrees with me!

Before he could respond, he darted for the bathroom. When I caught up with him, he was throwing

BS: A wild party!

up near the toilet.

"Sweetheart? Are you okay?" I felt his forehead; he didn't really feel warm. "Paul, I'm going to get you some ginger-ale, alright?"

"Okay," he said weakly. There were tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "I haven't thrown up in years," he moaned as he broke into tears.

BS: Wuss.

"Oh honey, it's alright, you're going to be fine…it's probably just a virus, or something…" I said, trying to comfort him.

BS: Why is Paul acting like a baby?

I went into the kitchen and poured some

BS: (singing) Lime in the coconut and drank it all up!

ginger-ale and wet down a washrag with cold water, and walked back with them to him.

When I returned to the bathroom, Paul had himself propped up against the wall, and he was EXTREMELY pale.

BS: I don't think you needed to emphasize that word

I helped him lie down on the floor, put the washcloth to his forehead, and propped up his head with a big fluffy pillow. He was panting, out of breath.

BS: He must have been running from a fan girl hoard

I guided the glass to his mouth since he was too shaky to hold it on his own. Shortly after he finished it, he passed out.

BS: The ginger ale was laced with date-rape drugs

"Paul? PAUL? Speak to me!" After a few minutes, his eyes slowly began to open, and he got sick again…except this time, it was on himself.

BS: EWWW!

"Oh Paul…" I said as he kept getting sick all over everything.

BS: Did he get sick on a box? Did he get sick with fox?

"I'm making you a doctor's appointment. I'll be back…" I said to him as I headed into the living room for the

BS: Leeches

phone.

I called his doctor,

BS: Was it doctor Robert?

and he said that he could see him…but it'd be about a week before until then.

So a week passed,

BS: Making the previous sentence completely pointless

and Paul's condition was about the same…if not worse! He seemed to be sicker in the mornings than any other time of day or night.

BS: I don't like where this is headed

I drove Paul to the doctor's that day.

BS: (Singing) Baby you can drive my car!

I waited several hours in the waiting room for him, worrying the whole time.

Finally, after 5 hours, he came out, and he wore a VERY strange face, one that I'd never seen on him before.

BS: (Paul) (Singing) Trolololololo

"Um…the doctor needs to see both of us in his office…"

"Why? Are you dying? Are you gonna be okay?"

BS: (girlfriend) Will this be in between us screwing like rabbits?

"I'm not dying; I'll be fine. But he NEEDS to see us."

"Alright," I said.

We walked into his office, which smelt heavily of rubbing alcohol, might I add.

BS: (girlfriend) it also smelled like weed

The doctor had a very solemn face, which I knew couldn't possibly be a good sign.

BS: (doctor) (thinking) OMG! It's Paul McCartney! (fangasm)

"Mrs. McCartney?" he asked.

"Actually no, we're not exactly married…"

"Oh. Well, your boyfriend here, um, well it's hard to explain. I examined him thoroughly, and I couldn't find anything wrong with him. Then he said that you two had sex the other night, and just on a lark, I ran several more tests on him, and it turns out that the fertilization process worked backwards…"

BS: So m-preg happened

Then he brought out a diagram of the female and the male reproductive systems. "You see, your egg traveled out of you and into his penis, where it probably mixed with his sperm right about here. Then it kept going up, and apparently it somehow made it's way into his abdominal cavity and is implanted somewhere in there. Which, would basically mean in plain English, Paul is indeed pregnant."

BS: HUH?

"WHAT?"

"Yes, yes, I know that it's hard to believe. I mean, I've never even heard of

BS: (doctor) So much bullshit in one fanfic!

this happening before!"

Paul broke down and started crying.

BS: He had missed the new episodes of MLP:FIM

I held him close to me in my arms in an attempt to calm and comfort him. It didn't seem to help him much though.

BS: (girlfriend) Don't worry, there will be reruns

"Now, Paul will need to be EXTREMELY careful or the baby could crush his internal organs. He doesn't have a uterus like a woman, so the baby is pretty much just in there, except it has implanted itself against the side of one of his organs…it's too small to see now, but when it's big enough to see in an ultra-sound, I will check to see if it is a danger to his health. If it is, then we will have to remove it surgically."

BS: Hidden meaning= I did not do my research and made this bullshit up on the spot

Paul shuddered at the sheer thought of needing surgery. "Um…how am I going to give birth? Push it out my dick?"

BS: My thoughts exactly

"No no no, it's nothing like that. Since you don't have the same parts as a woman, it wouldn't exactly be a Cesarean section, but we'll still have to cut through your abdominal wall, take the baby out, and repair any damage done. It would be a major surgery, yes, but whatever happens, it will have to be removed surgically."

BS: So, it'll be pretty much like that scene from "Alien"

I swallowed hard, hoping that Paul would end up alright.

BS: Hidden meaning= I hope I can still have loads of hawt secks with him after this

"There are many risks with your pregnancy, Mr. McCartney. Are you sure that you want to carry it to term?

"Doctor, I'm already pregnant, I want this baby now! You're not going to take it away from me! This baby is a person too, just like you and me, except smaller. It deserves to live! To get a chance at life! I've always wanted to be a daddy; this is my chance. I'm not going to kill my own child!"

BS: Dude, didn't you hear the whole part about this being life threatening?

I could not believe that Paul didn't want to just take that easy way out of this. If I were in his position, I know that I would!

When we got home, all Paul wanted to do was go to bed. I felt bad that he had to go through this. It was probably all my fault.

BS: No it isn't!

I should have known something was wrong. Why did I HAVE to have shagged Paul THAT night?

BS: It was on a lunar eclipse, on a Friday the thirteenth, when all the planets where aligned, on a leap year, during Sozin's commet.

I really wanted him to get an abortion. I didn't want to risk losing him. But it was his body and his decision, and I just couldn't change that.

BS: For now, I'm stopping here, because this is an ungodly long one-shot. So, until next time folks.