I have nothing better to do during quarantine so why not write for all you lovely people? I might be a little rusty ;)
-Pretz
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Paul McCartney, age......uhh age 243 years old is sleeping comfortably in his bed of toucan feathers. His breathing makes no noise because he is perfect and Paul McCartney does not snore. Silently, like a bald man washing his hair, John Lennon sneaks into the room. He grins as he pours a bowl of noodles over the bassist who continues his slumber. Paul will be so happy when he wakes up to find that he is the perfect plate for my tortellini dish! John thinks to himself as he makes sure the noodles are in all the crevices.
Lennon then brings out his boiling pot of tomato sauce, he grins.

"What the frick-frack-pit-pack-tic-tac are you doing to Paul?" George opens the door a little wider to see the pot of sauce about to be poured onto the sleeping bassist.

"I'm making him into a gourmet meal, a human being such as him must be enjoyed, not just looked at." John said matter of factly.

"Are you going to bloody eat him?!" George whisper screamed.

"Not eat him, eat off of him hon hon hon." John laughed like a French person and proceeded to pour the sauce all over Paul's body.

McCartney screamed and rolled off the bed sending noodles and sauce everywhere, including the crocodile one fan had sent him a week ago.

"PLEASE DON'T SEND ME TO GREENLAND, IT ISN'T EVEN GREEN." Paul screamed as he flailed around on the floor in a pile of tomato sauce and noodles.

John sighed as if he was terribly inconvenienced and all Paul's fault that his plan didn't work. George blinked and licked some of the tomato sauce off his face, "I'm surprised he's still asleep."

John grabbed a Unikitty lamp that Paul slept with every night and hit him in the head with it, waking him up. He seemed shocked for a moment, then relieved, then scared because he has food all over his body, then utterly terrified because John was holding his Unikitty lamp like it was a baseball bat.

"John! What the bloody hell?"

"You didn't stay still for my gourmet meal. You promised."

"Promise what?"

John took a stack of notecards out of his pocket, "Yesterday on March 15, 6056, you said you would let me make you into a gourmet meal. The notecards never lie, Paulie." He tucked them back in his pocket.

"Well now I say over my dead body!" Paul spat as he got up.

"Decomposing flesh might add flavor, yes...."

"WHAT HAPPENED? IS IT THOSE OWLS AGAIN? I'LL PUT THEM IN RUBBER TIRES AND PUSH THEM DOWN A HILL!" Ringo came in yelling, his hand wrapped tightly around a screwdriver.

"Uh no, John tried eating Paul."

"That's kinda kinky."

"NOT LIKE THAT, YA GIT."

"Listen John, this is the 3rd time this month that you've tried your gourmet meal cooking on me. I kindly ask you to stop." Paul batted his eyelashes but ended up getting tomato sauce in them.

"I'll consider your offer, but I'll need something in return first."

"What?"

"Three of your bones!"

Paul furrowed his eyebrows, "You drive a hard bargain, I worked hard to grow those. They're made from the finest fiberglass, you know."

John smiled, "Three, take it or leave it."

"Fine." Paul spat out his pelvic bone, a rib, and a femur. He gave them to John who put all three in his back pocket for safe keeping.

"Say, what's in those notecards anyways?" The drummer pointed to the pocket where John had stuffed the notecards in.

John swatted Ringo's hand away, "nothing."

"Sounds like someone who collects succulents would say." George chimed in accusatively.

Sweat started to pour from the rhythm guitarist's forehead, "UhhhHHhhHHhHhHHH what?"

"Joj is saying that that's what someone who has something to hide would say. They could also say 'boomerang' in an Australian accent but that's besides the point. What are you hiding, Lennon?" Paul grabbed for John's coat pocket but he was too quick. Lennon screamed and jumped into the bathroom mirror, somehow phasing into it.

"John?!"

Paul stuck his hand through the mirror, whatever it was, John went through there.

"I don't wanna go through there, that's some weird mirror dimension that's gonna reveal that we have weird cyborg selves and they're gonna kill us with their horrible EDM." Ringo whimpered, he shut his eyes tightly at the thought and held his screwdriver close to his chest.

"It'll be okay, Ringo. I'm sure if John went in there it must be pretty safe, right?" Paul reasoned.

"Pol, you're talking about the man who married a wasp and stayed with it in the same room for weeks until he passed out from the amount of wasp stings he had all over his body. You're talking about the man that almost started a nuclear war because he tried to make better coffee than Starbucks and ended up flooding the entire continent of Africa in an attempt to get proper coffee grounds. You're talking about the man who dragged us to Hamburg and almost got us killed by getting us caught up in the middle of a gang war which didn't even start till he said that the Lego Batman Movie was better than the Lego Ninjago Movie. Don't tell me that you think following John into a weird mirror demension is SAFE?"

"I think it's completely safe, if you don't want to come then fine, you can be a soggy towel about it." With that, McCartney climbed in the mirror. It almost felt as if he was being plunged into a sea of mercury. He was suddenly in the same bathroom as before, only Ringo and George weren't there. He hopped onto the tile floor. The tomato sauce had long since dried and now was gathered in crusty globs on his clothing. Normally the bassist would be uncomfortable walking around in soiled clothing however he was too busy looking that what was going on around him.
He was in the same bathroom before, yes, but something was off. Everything seemed a bit brighter than it used to be. As if someone had upped the saturation of a picture a bit to make it look brighter. It had immediately begun to make Paul's eyes ache, he wasn't sure how long he could stand being here. The bassist walked into the hotel bedroom, it looked exactly like his only it was brighter. Paul opened the door to the main living area of the Beatle's suite or rather the mirror dimension suite. Paul stopped dead in his tracks.

"Wasn't sure if you had the nerve to follow me, Paulie." The man in front of Paul cooed. It was John, but he was surrounded by a halo of light as if he was some sort of holy matron. Far from what his band mates saw him as. Lennon was surrounded by glass vials, big and small, in clusters, lining shelves, sitting on the floor. The liquid inside them was vibrating, Paul didn't want to know what the liquid was.

"John? What is this place?"

"I made it meself. You like it? I know it's a bit bright but it helps when I don't have me glasses on." The man adjusted his robe as he half-explained the existence of the place, "I got this little mirror from some random lad backstage who told me to destroy it. I thought what better than to ignore his warning and use it meself?"

"Out of everyone who he could've given it to, he gave it to you. The dumbest Beatle." Paul rubbed his eyes, he was starting to get a headache, "what's in the bottles?"

John furrowed his eyebrows at Paul's off-hand comment, "I'd rather be called over-buttered popcorn."

"That means the same thing, you daft git!" The bassist swung his hand down from his face and hit a couple of the vials which fell to the floor. They shattered sending red dust into the air.

"There goes two Nazi officers." John shook his head, "s.m.h. My head, Paulie. Be more careful!"

"Wh-what?"

"All these vials contain past lives. Those two you just shattered no longer exist in the timeline of our world. Look at this one," John grabbed a small vial filled with yellow liquid, "This is a clown, otherwise known as Zack Snyder who made those awful DC movies." John hurled it against the wall and it shattered in a million pieces.

"JAWN, ISN'T THAT TECHNICALLY KILLING PEOPLE?"

"It isn't if they never existed."

Paul rubbed his eyes again, he won't be able to stay here for much longer or else his eyesight will go from 20/20 to -50/20. He wished he understood John, he did for the most part but every time Paul thought he got the man figured out, John would completely defy his expectations. Maybe at this point Paul EXPECTED Lennon to defy his expectations which Paul was not comfortable with. He always felt the need to expect anything from his band mates which made dealing with them all the more difficult, especially John.

"What happens if I drink one of these bottles?" George waltzed in with a pair of sunglasses.

John thought for a moment, it probably took a lot of brainpower, "I don't actually know, I've never considered it."

"That's a good way to go out." Paul mumbled.

"Well I already drank five."

John cackled, he pulled out one of his notecards and said, "you'll be cursed to turn onto a FLOWER POT!"

A flash of light and a momentary stroke of heat, Paul was blinded. He blinked back tears in a struggle to gain his eyesight back. Where George once stood was indeed, a brown flowerpot. Paul picked it up, it didn't say anything. He wasn't sure what he expected from a flowerpot.

"Careful, you're holding Joj right there." John sneered.

"Aw man, can he still play guitar?"

"Doubt it."

"THEN BRING HIM BACK!"

"No," John jumped back into the mirror from across the room.

Paul followed behind him with George in hand. Jumping through the mirror and landing hard onto the bathroom floor, he clutched George tightly because, ya know....he's a ceramic flowerpot.

"Pol! What happened? Where's Joj?" Ringo was still sitting on the bed with his screwdriver.

"No time to explain, I need to find out what those cards are for. Hold George!" Paul shoved George into Ringo's hands, "keep him safe and don't break him. Raise him as your own." Paul dumped a bag of potato chips in the pot and ran out of the room just in time to see Lennon jumping from the 3,000 floor window (they are staying at a very big hotel). Paul dove after Lennon and managed to catch his foot before he escaped.

"Don't make me use my squirt gun, McCartney!" John yelled, the blood rushing to his head was making his cheeks flush a deep shade of red. He pulled out a green squirt gun and pointed it at the bassist who cringed at the thought of getting even dirtier than he already was, physically and mentally.

"Tell me what's on the cards and I'll let you go!"

"NEVAR!" John chucked the squirt gun at McCartney's face but missed. It fell back and hit Lennon's face instead. He rubbed his nose, "shouldn't have put rocks in that thing."

A strong gust of wind blew sideways, causing the cards in John's pocket to fall out. They spread out like confetti as John tried to catch them but they were too fast. Paul pulled him back into the building, making sure to hit John's head against the window sill for good measure.
Ringo looked up from the table, across from him was George. Ringo had poured tea and Doritos in him, "back so soon?"

Paul regarded him wearily and tripped John who tried to make a run for it back to the bathroom. John fell face first into a conveniently placed pie on the floor, "what's on the cards?" Paul snapped, "talk or Roblox dies!" Paul held a Shrek cup with googly eyes on it out the window. Roblox was John's "secret lover" but it wasn't so much as a secret because all the others knew about it.

"Okay okay I'll talk, I'll talk! In third grade, I cheated on my history exam! In fourth grade, I stole my uncle Max's toupee and I glued it on my face when I was Moses in my Hebrew School play! In fifth grade, I knocked my sister Edie down the stairs and I blamed it on the dog... when my mom sent me to the summer camp for fat ki-"

"I meant the cards!"

"Oh..." John sniffled, "I use them to draw doodles when I'm feeling inspired."

"Why not use a sketchbook?"

"Sketchbooks are for losers and people who drink V8 juice!" John crossed his arms.

A strong breeze came through the window blowing in several of John's notecards. They all had penises poorly drawn on each one.

"Um John those ar-"

"Hey hey hey, not in the presence of George!" Ringo covered the flowerpot, he didn't know where his eyes were but he was trying his best.

Lennon quickly picked them up and turned on the garbage disposal, shredding them, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Paul started to speak but decided to let it go. He was done. Indefinitely.

-The End-