Liverpool was dark and dreary-as usual-with an ever-present threat of rain. It all seemed dark, as the people bustled about and hurried this way and that.
One of those people was a short man with brown hair and a thick chestnut mustache. He wore something typical of the late sixties, a purple and red pinstripe suit with gray slacks with red and yellow stripes on the sides, black shiny shoes, and a bright orange tie with pink carnations flowered along it. Several colorful and shiny rings covered his fingers. He frowned as he heard the chimneys honk like submarine horns, rockets of smoke shooting from their stacks.
"Woah... is... me..." Words tumbled from his mouth without his realizing it and the moment they were out he stopped short along the sidewalk he'd been walking, besides a small mound of abandoned crates. He folded his hands behind his back and tapped his foot before more words pushed themselves up and out of his mouth, "Liverpool can be a lonely place on a Saturday night..."
'What is this?' He thought, 'Why am I saying this? Stop it now Ringo! Stop it!'
Feeling suddenly dizzy, he scratched a thigh with a foot and turned to walk away.
'I feel like an old... splintered... drumstick-wait, what?! What's the matter with me? I need to get home to Barbra and get to sleep-I have an early flight tomorrow!' He thought, walking back the way he'd come and felt another statement escape his lips, "I'd jump into the river Mercy... but it looks like rain." He felt his mouth give an odd half-smile without his consent and his hands were now in his pockets as he walked across the street.
''Nothing ever happens to me." He muttered without knowing why.
Ringo Starr, also known as Richard Starkey, was for once not feeling old. He felt a lot more energized, and what ached or creaked didn't seem to ache or creak tonight. He wiggled his top lip and wondered if he'd always had a moustache, and wondered what had happened to his stubble as the cold Liverpool wind kissed his smooth cheek.
The world looked rather... painted around him. And he felt rather odd as he walked and wondered what was going on.
A strange sound was emanating behind him, the sound of a motor or something he assumed as he looked back to see nothing. He frowned, stopped, and looked around only to hear the motor sound slip behind him. Seeing nothing he shrugged and continued to walk, wondering why he was walking in the first place.
'This all seems... familiar somehow.' He thought, hearing the motor again and turning to look-once again finding nothing there! He frowned in frustration and marched onwards until he came to another street, filled with high brick walls and dark gray colors.
Was this normal? Was it right? It all felt wrong... why was he in Liverpool in the first place? He lived in three places and none of them were Liverpool... right? He was supposed to be in Monte Carlo right now... he was sure of it... he thought... maybe?...
He felt odd, and his body stopped to let him look around a moment or two before continuing onwards, casting glances behind him every now and again. He sighed in frustration-or tried to anyway. His sighing seemed to be broken along with his understanding of what was going on.
'Me body's waging revolt! And winning!' He thought, terrified. He tried desperately to get his body to stop walking, or turn around, or even get his eye to twitch but it was all ignoring him! What was going on?!
As the panic coursed through him, he noticed he'd walked upon a police officer trying to play with an unresponsive, gray cat. He was wiggling a finger at it, beckoning forward, calling, "Puss... puss... puss, puss, puss, 'ere pussy. Here pussy. Here pussy, pussy."
Ringo's body stopped and allowed him to observe the odd spectacle until the officer noticed his presence. Embarrassed, he climbed to his feet and brushed himself off, putting on an air of dignity. The cat ran away, much to his disappointment but Ringo quickly caught his attention with words that he didn't give his mouth permission to say.
"'Ey would you believe me if I told you I was being followed by a Yellow Submarine?" What? How did he know that? That wasn't even possible!
The officer seemed to agree and frowned rather annoyed, "No, no I would not."
"Oh yeah, didn't think you would." Ringo replied rather cheekily and turned to go as the motor sound followed him again.
'Is that the Yellow Submarine?' He wondered, 'Am I dreaming or something? Is that why nothing makes sense? But no... you can do what you want in dreams, and I'm not able to do anything! Unless it's me mind rebelling... a rebellious dream perhaps?'
His body broke into a run, panting with exertion and panic of it's own.
"I could have sworn I was being followed by a yellow submarine!" He said as he ran up a hill towards a large house, "But that's not logical now is it? It musta been one of them unidentified flying cupcakes or a figment of me imagination!" What? Now that sounded daft even to Ringo! He approached the front steps of the large house, stopping to add, "But I don't have an imagination."
Feeling slightly hurt by his mouth's words, Ringo opened the large green door and stepped inside to find he was standing in a large, fancy, white hall. Something like a palace perhaps, and it was eerily quiet until the door began knocking rather loud and insistently.
"Help!" A loud voice cried from the other side, "Help! Help!" The continued knocking as Ringo turned back and leaned on the door.
"Thanks, we don't need any." He muttered to his minds protest. Who needed help? What was wrong? And who was this we? Barbara? Where one of the kids home? Was this his home?!
"Help! Help! Won't you please, please help me!?" The voice sounded rather old and tired despite it's insistence and as Ringo looked down through the mail slot, he saw it was an old man dressed in a submarine captain's uniform with gray-white fuzzy hair. Behind him sat a parked Yellow Submarine!
'This is really familiar... eerily familiar in fact.' Ringo thought as his mouth said, "Be pacific."
The man spluttered and flailed, spitting random words like "Music!" and "Submarine!" before falling to his knees before the steps and wailing, "Blue Meanies!"
"What unies?" Ringo sighed as he closed the mail slot. Outside the man continued.
"H for Hurry, E for Urgent! L for Love me and P for P-please! Help me!"
Ringo's body sighed and turned back to open the door for the man before walking away. He wandered down the halls and through a door, listening to it slam and then hearing a giant commotion behind the now closed door. He didn't have time to wonder what it was though, as he discovered he'd walked into a garage filled with four different cars.
'That one looks like Paul's Aston Martin... and that looks like John's Rolls Royce! Boy there was an uproar after he painted that...' He walked through until he approached a red car, a rather fancy car, and climbed in. The key was already in the ignition and he turned it with a flick of the wrist.
Instead of opening a garage door-there wasn't one-Ringo turned the car towards the door he'd walked through and drove on, the door flying open and widening at the last second as Ringo mentally screamed in fear. On the outside, he gave a mere laugh and rode down the giant hall before turning through another doorway and finding the old man at the bottom of two ornate flights of stairs in a large pink and green ballroom. The car traveled down the stairs jerking left and right, like it was walking!
At the bottom he drove the car in a full circle before stopping right in front of the old man. Another inch and he would have hit him...
"Oh your story has touched me heart." He said rather lightly before returning to his usual laid back drawl, "Jump in, we'll get me friends."
"Oh bless you!" The man smiled, climbing in beside Ringo.
"I didn't sneeze."
Together they drove towards another door to the side of the hall, it flying open and widening like the others had done.
"Just park it here." The man said.
"I'll just park it here." Ringo repeated as he stopped the car and killed the engine. They'd stopped in front of another unmarked white door and together climbed out to enter it themselves.
The moment the door shut, Ringo heard another insane commotion of noises and screams coming from behind it. He desperately wanted to check it out, but his legs wouldn't turn around as he led the old man who knows where.
They walked through a hall full of statues of different foods. Large statues that stood ten feet tall, making Ringo hungry as the man asked, "Hey, what would your friends be doing here?"
"Just playin'." He replied, making himself cringe internally as he waited for the punch line.
"Just playin' what?"
"Just playin' around." There was a drum and cymbal crash from somewhere and Ringo groaned inside his head. That was dumb, why would he say that?!
They entered another hall full of large wax dummys of starlets, action heroes, and magicians. Ringo walked right by them but the old navy officer stopped to inspect a few, Ringo envied him of his free will as he wrestled with whatever force was controlling his body.
"Can't we take one of these?" The old man asked and Ringo stopped to look at him, an action his head actually agreed with.
"No, they aren't me mates." He said, turning to walk ahead. The old man was quick to follow and eventually they entered what looked like a lab. It had a large green Frankenstein laying strapped to a large metal table that was easily taller than Ringo or the much taller old man. Wires and pieces of machinery sprung and snaked ever which way, including in and out of the monster sleeping on the table.
"Frankenstein?!" The old officer exclaimed.
"Oh he likes to go out with his sister." Ringo said as some sort of explanation.
"His sister?"
"Yeah, Phyllis. Eh, I wonder what happened if I pulled this lever?" He wondered, walking closer to the large table and touching the large silver lever.
"You mustn't do that." The man cautioned.
"Can't help it, I'm a born lever-puller." Ringo said and with that he grasped the handle and pulled it down. Immediately the machines began to whir and smoke, a chute couching out a green ball of sparks that flew threw the air and hit the old man's captain hat. The man pulled it off to inspect the damage as Frankenstein woke and began to move, snapping the restraints and tubes off with incredible ease!
'What the HELL did I just unleash?!' Ringo wondered as the monster stood and smiled down at them, giving a large groan of appreciation before downing a large vial filled with a purple and blue smoking concoction. There was a scream from nowhere and lightning flashed around the monster, which shrunk and began to morph at the speed of an eye's blink.
The hair turned auburn, the skin pale Caucasian, and a mustache sprouted along the upper lip! His clothes went from rags to a black thick jacket, and a green shirt with pink leaves, the collar folded on top of the buttoned up jacket. Purple slacks tightened around his long legs and black fancy shoes replaced the old, threadbare ones.
A pair of spectacles donned his face and he smiled cheekily at Ringo, who was ready to faint!
"Hey Ringo," they said, "I've just had the strangest dream."
"I warned you not to eat on an empty stomach." Ringo said, although his voice sounded constricted as he felt his head breaking in two, joy and despair, elation and confusion, happiness and sorrow. Where was he?! What was going on?! Why wouldn't anyone help him?! Black spots danced around his vision and he felt his body crumple to the laboratory floor.
Above, John Lennon watched in confusion along with the old sailor Ringo had been leading around.
But that was impossible.
John Lennon was quite dead.
Had been for 34 years now.