John: Guess what? We're going to Google ourselves.

George: *unenthusiastic.* Yay.

Ringo: *blows a streamer.*

Paul: For God's sake, Ringo, where do you get all these bloody streamers?!?

Ringo: *opens his mouth to reply.*

John: Shut it, both of you! *smiles sweetly.* Now, who wants to go first?

Paul: Try me.

John: Okay . . . *typing.*

George: What are the results?

John: *typing.*

Ringo: Have you gotten them yet?

John: *typing.*

Paul: God, John, how long does it take to type out my name?

John: *typing.*

George: A long time, apparently.

John: Okay, I got it.

Paul: John, that is not my name.

Ringo: *giggles.* "Pol McSassy"?

John: Oh, I'm sorry. I thought that was your name.

George: Here, let me see the results.

John: *snickers while handing him the phone.*

George: *raises his eyebrows.* Paul, there's a Tumblr blog dedicated to your "immovable heterosexuality."

Paul: *loudly.* Excuse me?!?

George: There's a blog dedicated to your—

Paul: *snatches the phone from him.* I heard you, Harrison! You don't need to repeat it! Now let me type my name in correctly.

Ringo: What did it pull up?

John: *peers over Paul's shoulder.* Oh, my God, look at that picture! *jerks the phone away from Paul.* Look at it, George!

George: So majestic.

Ringo: *laughs until he snorts.*

Paul: Stop it!!! Google someone else now.

Ringo: I'll do John.

George: What did it pull up?

Ringo: This.

George: *cackles wildly.*

Paul: *remains serious for only a few seconds before losing it.*

John: Okay, that's funny. Now, spell my name right this time.

Ringo: I'm sorry, John. I had to.

George: Got any dirt?

Ringo: No. I'll type in something else.

John: Richard!!!

George: *almost falls out of his chair laughing.*

Paul: Those pictures ARE sexy!

John, George, and Ringo: What?!?

Paul: I mean, they would be if . . . y'know . . . I was, um, yeah, y'know . . . y'know.

Ringo: This just got weird.

John: I'm going to go drown my ears with bleach.

Paul: Oh, no, you're not. You're staying right here.

George: My turn! I'll search you, Ringo.

Ringo: Yay.

John: Oh, wow, those are some nice stairs.

Paul: They look just like you, Ringo!

Ringo: George!

George: Sorry. I'll do it right this time.

Ringo: What is wrong with you, George?!?

Paul: We've got some Starrison!

John: Some what?

George: What is Starrison, Paul?

Paul: Nothing.

Ringo: Then why did you say it?

Paul: I don't know! Stop grilling me, Ringo! It's not like I've been reading slash or anything. *sinks lower in his chair.*

John: This is weird.

Paul: MOVING ON! I'll search you, George.

George: This ought to be good.

Ringo: What an interesting way to spell your name.

John: That must be this Joj Harrisun fellow.

Paul: *giggles.*

George: Why are you laughing? That's a gorgeous picture of me.

Ringo: It's you at your finest.

John: Yep.

Paul: Definitely.