Chapter 2

"You did WHAT?" yelled Paul, staring with shock at his manager, Brian Epstein.

"I created a contest with the prize being a dinner with you" replied Brian calmly.

Paul put his hand on his forehead and spoke exasperatedly, "You start a contest with ME as the prize and don't tell me? That's ridiculous!"

"Yeah," agreed Ringo, with a smirk "We all know it's me the girls want."

George chuckled from the corner where he was perched with his guitar, as always.

"Listen, Paul," said Brian, "It's just for publicity. You know, to connect a little with all those crazy screaming fans of yours."

Paul breathed deeply and tried to keep his voice under control, "Brian, look out the window, please."

Brian glanced where Paul indicated, "A little shop, so?" he asked impatiently.

"You want to know what's in that little shop, and every other shop in the world, Brian? I'll tell you! That shop is filled with Beatles albums, Beatles posters, Beatles boots, suits, wigs, shirts, DOLLS…!" cried Paul, "Brian! WE'RE. ALREADY. FAMOUS!"

John chuckled as he walked over to Paul. "Now, calm yourself, mate. It's not that bad. You might have fun!" he said winking."

Paul sighed deeply and scowled. "Fine. When is this…prize dinner." he said with disdain.

"Tomorrow!" said Brian cheerily.

Paul opened his gorgeous eyes wide and muttered to himself, "Oh sure, tomorrow, naturally!" He looked sarcastically at Brian, "And I suppose the girl is already picked out as well?"

"As a matter of fact, yes!" said Epstein, oblivious to Paul's exasperation, "A girl called Charity Baker, seventeen years old. You'll meet her at 18:00 tomorrow and go to a private restaurant where the fans can't get to you."

"Let me get this straight; I meet the bird, take her to dinner, talk to her for a while, and then ditch her?" said Paul, glaring at his manager.

"Uh, in a way, yes. But you will be gentlemanly and polite…?" said Brian, "Ditch her, indeed!"

"Oh, yes. Yes of course, I will be polite and enthusiastic as always!" said Paul, curtsying sarcastically. He walked out of the room, muttering under his breath.

Brian, marched out as well, with a victorious expression.

John sat down on the hotel couch beside Ringo.

"Poor bloke," he said, "I don't blame him for not wanting to go out with some mad fan girl. The nerve of that Epstein…"

"Yeah", agreed Ringo, "It's bad enough dealing with those screaming, fainting girls when we're all together and with policemen surrounding us."

George looked up from his guitar strumming and grinned sheepishly, "I think it'd be fun."

John grinned at him and jokingly threw a pillow at him. "Oh, sure. You would!"

George laughed and launched the pillow back at the couch, hitting Ringo in the head.

"Oy!" he cried, laughing and jumping up, "I'll get you for that!"

Pretty soon the three were in an all out pillow war, giggling like little children.