Ridley: I present... CHAPTER 8!
Dragon: Impressive. Yet another chapter filled with creepy stalker-ish things.
Ridley: Shut up. Review Time! Kekejo99, thank you dearie :)
Dragon: The Beatles Babydoll22, Ridley somehow writes better while listening to music and eating apples. There are a lot of apples missing from our fridge.
Ridley: shelby, yes, you should, lol. And thank you, a million times thank you! It makes my day when I get such lovely reviews :)
Dragon: You're a weirdo, Rid.
Ridley: I know. OOH, so i got the Remembering John Lennon at 75 issue of Lifetoday. Yesterday, the 9th of October, would have been his 75th birthday. It's pretty cool to look at, and very sad at the same time. Can't wait till they get a George issue...
Dragon: Ridley wasn't alive when the Beatles came out, plus she's too stupid to contribute to them. So, yeah, disclaimer.
I heard a shrill scream coming from my left, turning my head - and looking away from the terrifying sight of a naked Ringo - and saw John slapping his hands over his eyes.
"Someone get me some holy water, my eyes will never be the same!" He cried out. The older Ringo stared at him, confused.
"John?" He turned his head. "And George? What-" the older Paul put his hand up to stop him.
"Ringo, before you continue, please put some clothes on!" Ringo glanced down.
"Oh," he said, mildly surprised, then looked up, "am I making you all uncomfortable?"
"Yes," John whined, now curled up in a fetal position on the floor. I resisted the urge to laugh. The younger Paul and Ringo had jumped behind me and - as John had dubbed him - 'Old-Wrinkly Macca', and George had gagged a bit and slapped his hands over his eyes. The present-day Ringo shrugged, strolled into a walk-in closet, and returned wearing some plaid pajama pants and a plain black t-shirt.
"So," he drawled, "have I somehow taken a wonderful, drug induced trip - which I'm not entirely opposed to right now - or am I dead? Because I see John and George, and somehow, I don't think that's normal." I raised an eyebrow. He was taking this miraculously well.
The younger Paul's voice came from behind me, "Is he wearing pants?" He sounded wary. I didn't blame him, to be honest. I rolled my eyes.
"Yes, he's wearing pants. You two may come out now," Old Macca (much easier to say and think) replied, and Paul and young Ringo stepped out from behind us. The older Ringo's eyebrows shot up.
"Right," he said, "Now I know I'm high." John picked himself up off the floor and brushed imaginary dust from his suit, trying to look dignified.
"No, no, Ringo, If you were tripin', there'd be more walrus's and octopuses, ehehe." He elbowed Starr in the ribs, waggling his dark brows and grinning broadly. Starr pinched John's elbow, and John let out a yelp. "What'd you do that for, old git?" he grumbled, sulking away from his old friend.
"Well, it's not a dream, you feel real enough." Starr said thoughtfully.
"Aren't you supposed to pinch yourself?" Paul asked, shooting John an amused look. John made a face at him. Starr shrugged.
"Yeah, but it would hurt."
"Yes, it bloody did!" John whimpered.
"You're a big baby, you know that?" I asked him tiredly. He gave me a hurt look.
"And you're as mean as the bloody devil, anybody ever tell you that?" I shrugged. That was actually a new one.
"Can someone tell me what's going on?" Starr asked us as the other Ringo edged towards him, muttering "Weird. Weird old me," under his breath. I raised my hand, and Starr pointed to me. "Yeah, you, the only girl here. Which is weird, because if this is a dream - a vivid one - I'd be seeing a lot more girls." I looked at him weirdly.
"Um," I began, not entirely sure what to say, "first off, you need to stop with the emojis's. Seriously, stop. Second, I'm a time traveler. Surprise." I smiled grimly. I took in his interested expression, and pointed to John. "Second, that idiot over there refused to let me send them back until he met you and Paul. Well, and the future in general. And yes, he and George know about..." I trailed off, grimacing. It was... weird to talk about them being dead, since I could see them standing right in front of my eyes.
I spent the next half hour explaining everything that had happened since I had bought the troublesome necklace. I told them - Old Macca hadn't heard any of this yet, really - I frowned when I hesitantly explained my breaking the news of the deaths of George and John. By the end of my tail, Paul was nodding seriously, and Ringo was frowning in thought.
"Oh, um, I'm Gwen Charles, by the way," I said, remembering I had yet to give my name. John reached over and patted me on the head, giving me a smile.
"Nah, It's Miss Future." He fluttered his lashes innocently. Old Macca rolled his eyes.
"John, you don't know anything, do you? It's Jojo, John, Jojo." I frowned.
"Um, is every one gonna give me nicknames?" I glanced at Ringo and George, who both shrugged.
"I just think of you as the Loon," Ringo told me honestly.
"You're just Gwen to me," George said sweetly, before grinning and adding, "Or the crazy time girl. Whatever works." I glared at him. Traitor.
"Question," Starr announced, raising his hand. I nodded towards him, and he continued, "What now?"
I paused in thought for a moment. What now? It was a simple enough question, I supposed. But really, what was I supposed to do, send them back and go back to my life as a pizza girl? Um, how about no? I bit my lip, before a brilliant idea hit me. I looked Starr in the eyes.
"I'm going to find the guy that sold me the locket and see what he knows." I looked at the four men, stuck in the wrong time. "You should come with me. Present day Paul and Ringo, you... stay here. Actually, Paul, I'm going to take you back to your concert, unless you wanna hang out here."
Old Macca waved me off. "Ringo and I have some reminiscing to do, now that I'm here. Thanks for the offer, though, luv." I nodded, barely contain the fangirl scream that threatened to erupt from me when he called me 'luv'. He hesitated briefly, before enveloping George in a tight hug and moving onto John. "Just in case nothing changes, in case I don't see you again," he said quietly. Starr flicked John on the ear before embracing him and the band's youngest member.
I was about to open up my locked to change the destination before I let out a gasp.
"What's wrong?" George asked me, wide eyed. I shook my head and ran up to the older Paul and Ringo.
"Selfie?" I asked hesitantly, my voice hopefully. The two music legends looked at each other for a moment before bursting out in laughter and nodding. I felt my pockets for my phone, panicked when I didn't feel it, and then turned to Ringo. "Dang it, Ringo, stop taking my phone to play solitaire." I said, exasperated. Sheepishly, he smiled and tossed me the phone. I rolled my eyes, and snapped a quick picture of the three of us, Starr giving his customary peace signs. After taking the picture, he quickly snatched my phone from my hands against my protests, and typed something into it.
"My personal phone," he explained. "Send me the photograph, and I'll post it to twitter." He grinned and winked at me, "Emoji's and all."
I laughed and nodded, and entered in my apartments address, and in a flash of green light, the five of us were gone.
Ridley: Ringo's use of emoji's makes me laugh every time he posts stuff on twitter. He's better at it than my 80 year old grandma, tho. Review, please :) :)
