P R A N K

︎☞ | a practical joke or mischievous act | ☜

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

it was currently a saturday, so paul finally had a break from work and was currently enjoying a cup of tea made by his roomate.

despite the lovely taste it had (honey, who would've thought?) paul's eyes felt a little heavier than usual.

"paulie? you okay?"

"m'fine," he managed to utter, but it came out like a drunken slur. the kind you'll hear from irish pubs. his head felt like it was a rocket flying up to outer space but his body felt like gravity seemed to be more possesive than usual.

"paul!" ringo yelped– shooting forward as the doe-eyed boy hunched forward.

he managed to grab him before paul rolled off into the ground and held him upright.

"p-paul? are you... alright—?"

as if they were in some kind of fantasy movie, paul started shrinking in his arms. ringo couldn't do anything but watch in a mix of horror and wonder as his best mate's arms grew smaller and smaller and— pudgier?

"wingo?" the kid— paul, holy fuck he was paul— "wha– what 'appened to me?"

ringo didn't answer. instead he gazed at the small boy in his arms, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.