I stared at those four men. And they stared back. So I kept staring at them. And eventually we all got uncomfortable looking at one another.

So we looked away.

How the blooming biscuits did my Fictional-yadda-yadda bring the Beatles into my presence? I mean, don't get me wrong, I was honored. Honored to have my machine work after all, honored to have band members around me... Maybe my machine brought those instead. Yeah! But I should probably ask them before I get too ahead of myself.

"Uh, excuse me." All four turned to look at me. They had been huddled together whispering nonsense thinking I couldn't hear them, how cute. "Who are you four?"

"The Grasshoppers," one replied. He batted his eyelashes at me.

"Let me guess, you're James," I smiled back just as smug.

"Close enough love, I'm John." He held his hand out and I shook it warily. Hopefully these boys were clean, I had taken my gloves off.

"I'm the James you're looking for," said another one with huge eyes. "Though most people call me Paul."

"I call him Macca," John piped up.

"We call him Professor Harry. Because he's always doin' his hair!" one with a nose laughed. And I must say it was quite an unflattering laugh, not at all like how Ringo laughs. Paul gave him a warning look and turned back to me.

"Eh, that's Ringo," John gestured behind him. "He sure knows how to make a joke, but doesn't know when NOT to."

"And I'm George. Don't mind the lads, they're just jokin'." I shook everybody's hand and stepped back to look at them. My, my, my. George and Ringo wore blue shirts with blue jackets, John and Paul wore blue sweaters over even darker blue shirts. And all had on blue pants. Geez, I knew they matched but this was ridiculous. I was looking at an ocean line here. You know, the only time I'd ever seen such a memorable wardrobe was on that cartoon from-

Hey wait a minute. These weren't the real Beatles. They were from that cartoon! The Beatles didn't even provide the voices! But that makes sense. This was, after all, a fictional character doo hickey. And they were fictional characters. But still! I was expecting the real Beatles, not some knock off. But at second glance...

They look like the Beatles. They sound like the Beatles. They act like the Beatles. More or less. I bet they taste like the-okay, no. That's too far. Not that I would know what they tasted like either.

Heh.

(Clears throat) Anyway! Surely these fine young gentlemen know that they don't come from this world, and that they've magically appeared from cartoon land. And if they don't...it's gonna be a long night.

The one called John snapped his fingers in front of my face. "You're starin' again!" he teased.

"Sorry," I cleared my throat. "Name's Nicola Abella Jacquenette Richter." I curtsied for them but stopped when I got a cramp in my lower half.

"You got a name in there somewhere?" Paul asked observing my ears as if to look in my head. I edged away from him and his sneaky peak fingers. I noticed one of them had wandered away to the other side of the room. I swear, these boys are like kittens!

"Most people call me Nikki," I answered looking for the runaway.

"What's that then?" George pointed at a crude stick figure with 'Ticki Tac Toe' written in hot pink graffiti. Some hoodlum must have broken in...

"Most people," I shrugged at him. Attending to my previous mission, I found Ringo at my chemistry table pouring acid green liquid into a plum purple one. John came up to him.

"No, no, no! Ringo, you're doing it all wrong!"

"I am?" Ringo asked innocently.

"You can't mix green and purple together. You have to use yellow. Here." John foolishly handed his pal my cup of yellow sulfur to mix with the purple. The concoction started smoking and smelling.

"Wait!" I called. The rest of us covered our faces as the liquids exploded. My lungs were on fire, and my eyes watered. Looking back at the damage, Ringo stood there, a bewildered expression and blackened hair. John couldn't help letting out a giggle here and there as he had ducked away in time letting his friend get singed. Paul and George even joined in with him.

"Boy Rings, you sure went out with a bang on that one," Paul said walking up and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Guess you could call me Richard Feynman," Ringo said before letting out that-interesting laugh. To be honest, I was expecting worse than just a new hair color. But if they really were cartoons, maybe the logic of their world still applied here. Boy, what a great story this would make! I shook my head. Now's not the time for that, I had to get these grabby guys away from anything dangerous and hear their side of the story. "Sorry about the explosion, guess I don't know me own strength."

I took the cups away from them and stuck them on a high shelf. Don't tell me I was gonna have to Beatle-proof my laboratory. "It's okay then, we'll just keep these out of your reach." I turned back to see John swinging my height growth instrument like a yo yo. Quickly I snatched it from him and patted his head. "What did I tell you?" I laughed. After my inventions were stored away from their fingerprints and destructive nature and they were all standing in front of me, I asked them. "So. Do you know how you four got to be in this school?"

"Is that what this is?" Paul asked looking around. "Looks like a prison ward, or something to me."

"Aren't those the same thing?" John whispered.

"We're getting off track," I interrupted. "This is serious beeswax, (Don't think I didn't see that giggle, Harrison!) and I need to know how you got here so I can be sure I brought you here. Now do you four have any ideas what happened or-where were you before you showed up to this world?" Let's start with something easy.

John scratched his head in pretend thought and stuck his tongue out. "Well now, let's see..."

*Le Flashback*

"Are you sure you know where we're going Lennon?" Paul griped as they walked down the forest trail. The path was steep, and walking for hours beforehand was not helping manage their attitudes.

"Sure I'm sure. We just have to cross this nice, peaceful river." The boys reached an outlook over a wide river that was not nice and peaceful in the slightest. John turned back to see three agitated faces. He giggled with a shrug. "Come on then, we want to make it back before dinner." The leader made his way down the small, rocky cliff to the raging river. The water lapped at his feet on the edge and he stopped short, afraid of missing a step. Paul hid behind his back, George behind him, and Ringo in the very back.

"You are going then, aren't you John?" George asked in his so obvious cartoon Irish accent. The man in question gulped before turning around.

"Yeah, just-just give me a moment." After regaining his composure, he set foot inside. Nothing happened. "Hey! It's not bad, come on in!" The other three exchanged skeptical looks, but followed suit. John waded out a ways paying attention to the activity in front of him. Not at all noticing his mates getting swept away by the current. "See fellows? We're almost there. I knew I'd get us home safe and sound and look where we are-" He turned around behind him to see no one. "Now where could they have gone?"

Well for starters Paul had gotten wedged between two rocks, George was caught in a whirlpool, and Ringo was running on the water trying to get away from a nearby waterfall. Because cartoon logic that's why. John knew what he had to do. He walked toward them and pulled a fishing rod from behind his back. Throwing the line out, he caught Ringo and reeled him to the other side of the river on dry land. Then he fished out George who ended up dizzy from the whole thing. Last he caught Paul, who had managed to get really stuck.

After a few decent pulls, he yanked him out and he went flying into George and Ringo who had been dusting themselves off of water. John couldn't help but laugh at the circumstances.

Once they got back to the city, a limo pulled up to the four men. A man stepped out wearing a suit and a mustache big enough to have its own mustache. "Are you John Lennon?" he asked.

"Yes, I am." The man disappeared and came back with the Queen of England at his side. She cupped her hands by her face and sighed dreamily, surrounded by little hearts. John was presented with a huge bag of money and she knighted him for his braveness. Much to the other Beatles' surprise.

"Would you look at that boys, I'm a hero!" John smiled smugly. Paul frowned and crossed his arms.

"He's also a showoff," he mumbled.

"Whatcha gonna do with all that loot John?" Ringo asked like a curious puppy.

"I know!" The band ended up at a restaurant, with John paying for the food. After winning them all free desserts, saving George from choking twice, and making Paul jealous, John leaned back in his chair quite impressed with how his day had turned out. On their way home he would not stop talking about it.

"Will you forget it John? You don't have to keep reminding us every bloody second!" Paul yelled at him.

"Watch it lad, this is a kids' show," Ringo laughed. Paul simply ignored him.

"What's gotten into you McCartney?" John asked completely oblivious to Paul's attitude. "It's almost as if you were jealous!"

"Ding ding ding!" George whispered to Ringo who snorted a bit too loud.

"I am not jealous! Let's just go-" Paul stopped short as he saw something in front of him. Like a glowing white light. "Oi, what's that then?" All four men stared at it, entranced by its whiteness and glowingness.

"It's so white and glowy," George marveled.

"I want to touch it!" Ringo reached for it but Paul smacked his hand away.

"Don't do that! You might open up a portal to another universe or something like that!" John shook his head.

"Don't be silly Paul, there's no such thing as multiple universes," he corrected his friend with a smile. "Ask George." He pointed at George who was pulling random items out of his pocket until he pulled out a book on the subject.

"Actually Erwin Schrödinger says there is," he said reading the first page.

"Schrödinger," Ringo giggled.

"Aw, what does he know?" John asked. George closed the book and threw it behind his shoulder.

"He must know something, afterall he's from Ireland. I believe him."

"That explains it," John mumbled. "Anyway Paul, the point it there is no worry, we'll just leave the white glowing thingy alone, and we'll be fine. Now come on. Where's Ringo?"

"Touching the white glowing thingy," George answered casually.

"Oh he's- Ringo! Come back here!" John ran up to grab the drummer but he had already fallen into the white glowing thingy. John grabbed the hem of his jacket and he too fell in, with George and Paul not too far behind.

*Flashback Over*

"Before we knew it, we ended up in a large room filled with sweaty kids and lost lunches," John explained as he retold his account of the story. "Luckily for us I was there, and brought us all down here where we'd be safe."

"That's not what happened you moron!" Paul yelled whacking him on the head.

"Of course it is. Those kids were sweaty and you know it."

"No, I meant all that stuff before that. Besides, like I'd ever be jealous of you."

"Well then Princess Paul, what do you remember?" John quizzed him. Paul closed his eyes and recalled his point of view.