A/N: I know it's short, but I reallllyyyy wanted to update! Enjoy!

George's POV

"Really, John. Ye coloured her hair red!" For the seventh time today Paul complained.

"Oh, it wasn't all my fault, Carlos did it! C'mon, I'm innocent!" The offender batted his eyelashes,

"Yeah, yer real innocent, John," I rolled me eyes. "That's why ye have the sex appeal of a baby penguin."

"Oi! I happen to find baby penguins very sexy, mind you!"

"EWW, you creep!" Paul exclaimed in disgust. "Mackin' on poor infant birds! Ye should be locked up for animal abuse!"

"Well, it's either that or say that I'm not sexy, which we all know is a lie!"

"Oh yer head gets bigger every day, don' it? So full of yerself." Paul shook his head in false dissappointment.

"Oh shaddup, Macca. Yer just jealous because I'm sexier than you."

"T'hell you are! If yer so much sexier then why am I gettin' the bird, hmm?"

"Because ya went and slept with her!"

"Omigod, Lennon, get over that! I told ya before that nothin' happened!"

"And how am I supposed to believe that?"

I sighed. "Girls, girls yer both pretty, Can ya shaddup now?" Both of them glared at me, their annoyance clear. At least it shut them up fer a moment.

"Oh George," Paul grinned devilishly. "Speakin' of pretty li'l birds, how're you and that Shelby chick doin'?" Wait, how in hell could he know? "Mandy told me ya fancy her," he winked. Dammit, I never shoulda told her...

"Aw, he's turnin' red! Ye should see yer face, Georgie!"

"Oi get off me case!"

"Never!"

"You guys suck."

"Not as much as you," John smiled sweetly.

"Oh, sod off. Yer the one that rapes penguins."

Paul started giggling. Damn, what a poof.

"Shaddup!" John whined. "You, too, McCartney."

"Ey, I'm not in this anymore!"

"Yeah, like I'd let ye get away!"

I swore they'd never stop. They kept on argung about the sillyish rubbish in the world until Paul's da came to tell me and Johnny-boy to get our arses home. Thank god, they were really starting t'get on me nerves.

...

I sat on the bed. I was kinda nervous to try, condsidering it was always John or Paul that did it, not me. Tryin' t'get the nerve, I grabbed it, but didn't know what else to do. How in hell do they write songs? John, Paul, Ringo, and I had started a band, and we were pretty good if I do say so meself.

I gingerly put the pencil to paper, scared to seem foolish, though no one was there. What if it was bad? I'd be so dissappointed in meself. Nothin' came t'me and it was real frustratin' t'say the least. I wanted t'write her somethin'. Somethin' real special. But what? I'm the guitarist, not the songwriter! This was gonna be a real test...

Maybe if I make the guitar riff first? I grabbed me guitar and started playin' random notes. This was me element. I'm always happiest when I have me guitar. Once I had the guitar down, I tried writing the words again. It seemed a bit easier than before. Not real easy, but definitely easier.

A/N: Hahaha was I the only one thinking pervy in that one paragraph? XD Hehehehehehe (; Oh and guess what! You should REVIEW that's what! Please please me, oh yeah, like I please you! (Ey, I review ev'ry story I read, so HA!)