Skywriting -- Feb 17, 1998
Continued from Feb 16, 1998
Having been four hours standing in the rain, Paul became convinced that he was no longer of this world and would be better off as a telemarketer. At least that way he could make people miserable but avoid meeting them in person. He made immediate arrangements to have his cat cancelled, and he sent the remainder of his goods to the harbor for safe-keeping. He was determined that nothing would stand in the way of his destiny, even if it meant a visit from President Clinton. Feeling nonetheless refreshed for his efforts, Paul surrendered himself to a familiar position upon the couch with his cigarette.
"AAAAAAAAUGHHHH!!!!!!" Paul screamed. "What are you going on about now??" John said irritably. "OOOH!! I dropped me cigarette!" Paul whined. "So," John replied, "pick it up now." Paul shook his head, "It's not that I dropped it! It's where it landed!"
"You stupid schumck." John murmured. "What'd you call me?" Paul asked. "You heard what I call you, and it's exactly what you are, for dropping your cigarette down your pants." John replied.
John glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost 5pm. "Well, I'll be seeing you later Paul." Paul looked up, still rubbing his gentiles that had been scorched by the cigarette. "Where's that you going?" "Oh, me and Yoko are going to go shoot up and come up with more silly concepts about peace." John replied. Paul nodded and said, "Ah, I see, well, I'll just be at the nudey bars so you know."
Just then, a knock at the door. "BAMN BAMN BAMN!!!" The whole room shook with fury. "Let me in you bloody bastard!!!" Paul jumped up turned down the Barry Manilow he had been playing and pulled his hand out of his pants trying to zip them up at the same time. "Hold on!! I am coming!!" Paul shouted back. He opened the door and in came a dripping wet Liam Gallagher.
"Oh....it's you." Paul uttered. "Yea it's me!! Who did you think it was?!" Liam snapped back, "and what the hell is that big buldge in your pants for? What you been doing up here all evening?" Paul grew beat red. "NOTHING.." As he said while turning his back and facing the corner.
"Now, what is it that you want?!" Paul said, quickly changing the subject. "That's another thing!!" Liam started to get rough, "I said you could live in my bathroom for a week, but what in the hell did you do to my towels??! Paul pondered for a moment or two and then suddenly remembered what he had dome to Liam's towels.
"They are ALL crusty!! Every single bloody one of them!! What did you do man?" Paul sunk in his shirt and gulped, "Um...err..I spilt some...umm...uhh..hair shampoo YEAH!! over and i had to clean it up..uuh..yeah that's it!" Paul finished with a grin. Liam looked disgusted, "Well, you could have cleaned them or something. Funny, they didn't smell like shampoo." Paul just then realized that he had a problem.
liam had gone insane and paul didn't really want to deal with that, so he shut the door on liam and left him out in the rain ((no more Oasis, PLEASE!?!?!?)). now that that was over, paul went to get an ice pack for his poor burned self and lay back down on the couch.
John hung over him. "Are you planning on moving from that spot today" Paul only moaned. John leaned close to his ear. "I said, Are you planning on moving today?" He bellowed down at Paul. "Jesus, John, what the Hell are you trying to do, deafen me?" "Thought I'd give it a whirl." Then they got hit by a streetcar.
Paul and John stared at amazement at the streetcar shaped hole in the living room. "Wow," deadpanned Paul, "persistant little buggers aren't they?"
The odd thing about that particular streetcar is that it was driven by a wumberlog. But does that really matter?, John reasoned. No. It didn't. But it was highly unusual for a large black dog to drive a streetcar. John shrugged and returned to his conversation.
Whatever he was going to say, he forgot when he saw two shadows walking on the street. His ears could capture a whispered conversation. "I don't know why you're frightened. That one'll never guess what happened." "I feel bad anyway... but if we must, we must." "We must, we must...That Yoko contracted us to give an end on it. So we'd better be movin'. " One of the voices sighed. "I love Abbey Road. Burn it down is...like burning meself." "It's only a building. nothing else will happen. C'mon."...Then the voices disappeared in the dark.
John looked behind him. The voices? ... Were they just a dream?
"I am not going! That japanese can go to hell and warm her toes. I am staying right here where I am.", one of them shouted. "Oh girl, you are not easy trick. Never mind. I am doing the service meself. Farenheight 451, dearie. Burn what can be dangerous." "And can you tell me since when the music is dangerous?" "Since it can make people think, honey...". The girl just stood there, half crying, half amused. "Only one person against a fire...do I need some help."
John had watched the red flames intently, mesmerized by the flickering light.
but then he got hit by a streetcar.
The driver fell dead all the sudden, (john had smashed him with a brick). "Good Riddance. This is my damn story and I'm watching the studio burn down. Do you mind?"
Continued on Feb 18, 1998
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