Bagism: Library

Skywriting -- Mar 29, 1998
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Continued from Mar 28, 1998

Then all these futuristic-losers (Leo, Taylor...) dissappeared and John, Paul, George and Ringo found themselves sitting in Abbey Road #2 Studio, on a beautiful London summers night. They were in the middle of recording Sgt Pepper when the double doors to the studio opened...

In came a beautiful girl named Leah. (authors note: no Leah is not my name, Leah is a character now. i'm not trying to bring myself into the story.) She walked across the room, well aware of four sets of male eyes watching her every move. Paul almost dropped his teacup as she moved to sit down beside him. Then he put on his most seductive look and stared at her. She looked right back then called out to someone. the door opened, and who would appear, but...

Mick Jagger. He grinned a wicked grin as he proceeded to walk across the room towards the girl. He reached out his hand to her and she stood up. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. She giggled. John sneered. George coughed. Ringo stared at his drumsticks. Paul glared at Mick who only grinned at him mischeviously. But there was also a hint of daring in his eyes. Paul picked up on that; "What the hell are you doing here, Mick?" he asked civily. "Ah, well, Paul, actually, Leah and me needed to find somewhere to go so that we could..." "Could what?" Paul asked, daring mick to go on. "YOU KNOW..." Mick replied. "I don't believe i do" Paul went on, with those puppy eyes. Mick was annoyed "So that we could shag eachother's brains out, you impitant bastard!!" he yelled. Now Paul could take almost anything, like getting hit by a streetcar repeatedly, have his best friend run off with his wife, be beated up by his ex-girlfriends, but to be called IMPITANT was more than he could take...

he stood up and threw his teacup over in Mick's direction. Only it didn't hit mick as intended. It hit Leah. She was covered in boiling hot tea from head to toe. "Ooops" Paul said. "Sorry luv, let me help you," he said as he walked over and helped Leah get out of her wet clothes...

*The remainder of this plot is not suitable for young readers*

Yes. So when they all came out of the studio orgy...

Linda was standing outside. Paul zipped up his pants super-fast (he was good at that by now) and ran over to greet her....

Author's Note (another)- you know, this reminds me of this really bad movie called "wild things". I thought it was gonna be this cute movie, but i go see it and i see matt dillon this other actress and neve campbell having an orgy (LIKE ALL TOGETHER!). Just thought i'd make note of that (and please do not delete this!)

John mused over his situatuion for a moment. Did he really want an orgy? He decided he was too tired. It had been such a long two months. So he lit a cigarette. "Aw, come off it, Lennon...get yer finger out..." John scowled at Paul, who was red in the face and clearly enjoying himself.

"No way, Macca! You think I'd really do the wild thing while you were watching?" John scoffed. "I knew you were soft, but this tops it all."

John took a deep drag on the cigarette. The smoke swirled deep into his lungs and back out through his nose. He coughed. This, exciting as it may be for them, was boring for John and so he got up and left. He went to his home in Weybridge and lay down on the couch. He couldn't sleep. His bones were creaking and his brain seemed totally devoid of all function, but he could not get to sleep, so he poured himself a glass of Scotch and wrote a song about it, "I'm So Tired".

Meanwhile, back at Cavendish, Paul and the other's were 'doin' that crazy hand jive' and thoroughly enjoying themselves. Paul had called for reinforcements, and now had some playmates over as well. Paul smiled to himself as he watched the action that was going on at his house. "This is the life" he muttered, but then heard a car pull up. He ran quickly over to the window, and who would get out of the car but...

Linda. Paul cursed and quickly withdrew. She was walking toward the door. Paul screamed, startling everyone. "Linda's coming!" he squawked. He hustled them all out the back door and gathered up stray articles that had been strewn about. She got in before he could turn the music off. He'd better try to cover this up. He smiled when she walked in. "Hey, sexy," he said, hoping she would believe him. "Not now, Paulie," she replied. "It's been a long day." She walked into the bedroom and found Marianne on the bed. Apparently she and Mick had reconciled. Linda screamed. "Get OUT!"

John brooded in hsis tumbler of scotch. Damn. He'd picked up the kiddie cup with the face of some animated hero leering out at him with an exaggerated smile. He wanted to poke its eyes out. He lifted his pen and carefully coloured in the grinning dog's eyes. There. Then he couldn't see him get pissed.

The dog on the glass sat there with this evil grin on its face, its eyes now closed. John finished his scotch and sat quietly for awhile, feeling the alcohol pump itself through his veins and slowly start to affect his brain. John knew he couldn't hold his alcohol but sometimes he needed it. He stood up, a little wobbly and out of sorts at first, but his legs finally seemed to stop being the consistency of Jello and he could walk around. John headed for his bed. The alcohol was warming his body now, and he felt he could sleep. He lay down on the freshly washed linen sheets and passed out almost instantly. He could start anew tomorrow.

Meanwhile, back at Paul's residence at Cavendish, Marianne & Mick were long gone and Linda had Paul cornered. She refused to let him go until he came up with an explanation. "Well, Lin, you see..."

"I had some people over and..." Linda wanted to hear no more. She could tell Paul was lying; he was the worst liar in the world. She grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him to the door. "Linder, what're you doing? I love you Linda, I love you..." "Not going to work this time," she snapped. She tossed him out and slammed the door. Paul tried to turn the doorknob but the door had been locked. Then Linda's face appeared at the door again and she opened the door. "I knew you'd let me back," Paul began, but before he could get inside she shoved a suitcase into his gut. "Here." Linda said. She went back inside and Paul looked in. He'd been marooned with a black silk shirt, a nice pair of trousers, 3 pairs of underwear, a new package of socks and a picture of the kids with a note attached that said "If you can't stop these orgies for any other reason, do it for them."

Linda came back again holding a box of Kleenex. "Here, Paul," she sighed. "If you have any heart left, you'll need these. I know I will." She then straightened up and stiffened. "Now get off of my property before I call the police."

Paul sighed. He was out on his ass with one change of clothing and just enough money to get him through a day. Why did all of this have to happen to him? "You brought it on yourself, you know," he reminded himself. "Now you've got to win her back." He went to the local florist's shop and spent most of his money on the biggest, best flower arrangement he could get. He also dropped by the grocery and picked up a box of chocolates, which, unfortunately for him, took the rest of his money to purchase, but he figured if it won her back it would be worth it. He deposited the presents on her doorstep and hid in the bushes, waiting for her to come out and see.

As he crouched there he heard footsteps. Linda! Paul watched her walk out and pick up the stuff. "That man is an incurable optimist," she murmured. She deposited it in the trash. Great. Now Paul not only was out on his ass, but he was broke too. Suddenly Paul sneezed. Linda didn't say anything, he couldn't see her...maybe she hadn't heard! Fantastic! Suddenly he felt a chill and found himself soaking wet. Linda had turned the hose on him. "I hope you catch pneumonia," she told him. She turned on her heel and went into the house. Paul stood up. It was winter, that was cold water, and he was freezing. He wanted to check into a motel, but no one would accept him because he was all wet and was soaking the posh carpet.

There had to be someone he could stay with. John was asleep, Ringo was on vacation, George was in court for something or other...who did that leave? No one. Not a soul. Paul was... well, as we say here in the USA, Paul was screwed. He hoped he didn't catch pneumonia. He walked along a lonely stretch of road, kicking rocks as he went, shivering from the extremely cold London winter. He coughed and sniffled. "Oh Paul, what did you have to go and have that orgy for?" he asked himself. Suddenly he was aware of another presence. He looked up. Luiza! She always seemed to be there when you needed her. "Paul, what are you doing out here? You're freezing cold and you're all wet!" She pulled him to the car, and Anna, who was driving, turned around. "Paul?" "Yes," Luiza said impatiently, "take us home." She took off her coat and put it around Paul. "You can have some cocoa when we get home," she promised.

When they arrived at Luiza's residence, they practically had to drag Paul out of the car. Anna took his suitcase and got out his fresh change of clothes while Luiza prepared the hot cocoa. They hung his wet clothes in the bathroom to dry and lent him a blanket. This was one reason why Paul loved these kids, they were always so generous. They sat around by the fire while Paul sipped his cocoa. "What happened?" Luiza asked, well known for her prying questions. Paul finished his cup of hot cocoa and began to tell Luiza. When he was done she looked visibly concerned. "Oh, Paul, that's terrible." She then went on to offer Paul the guest room until he could patch things up with Linda.

Rea walked in with the phone. "Paul... it's John." Paul took the phone from Rea. "HelllO?" "Paulie, may i say that was the dumbest thing you have ever done. But i got a plan to get you back 2gether with linda..." Paul's ears perked up.

"Yeah? Come on, out with it!" Paul urged John. "Well," John began, "George and Ringo and I were talking and we thought Linda might take you back if she realizes how much she misses you. So we were sitting around having cigarettes and we came up with a whole list of stuff we could do to make her miss you. Gonna take some cooperation from you, though."

"Get over here, Paul...we'll do some plotting..." John dropped the phone back into the reciever. He peeled off his soaked shirt and sat in the middle of his bed. His breath smelled like Scotch. He saw himself in the mirror opposite the bed. He looked like he had slept for an eternity. It had only been three hours.

His face was thin and haggard. He sat and stared until there was a knock at his door. "It's me, John...you said you had a plan...." John let the door swing open. Paul stepped back at the site of his old friend. "Christ, John...what the hell's wrong?...You're drunk, aren't you?" John shook his head. "Nah...a sip to settle me nerves....get in here..."

But Paul wasn't having any of it. "C'mon John, what's the plan?" he urged on. "Well," John began with a mischevious grin, "we were thinking something along the lines of... well, I go over and you know... get Linda all hot and bothered, and then show her what a terrible lover i am compared with you. How about that?" John asked with genuine eagerness. Too eager for Paul. "Not highly bloody likely!" Paul exclaimed. "No way. Besides, the kids are home tonight." John laughed at that "Never seemed to have stopped you before..." Paul glared at him. "Well, what's the other plan?" he continued. "well..." John trailed off. "What?" Paul prodded. "Well, actually, when Rich and George and i discussed it, it never really got any further. we thought we'd all just have a go with linda and try to convince her that you're way sexier than all 3 of us put together." While Paul could see john was just trying to help (or WAS he?) he knew he had to take matters into his own hands, so he...

got dressed up in his camoflauge army gear and headed over to Cavendish to scope the place out. Spy on Linda. When he got there, it was pitch dark. He climbed over the impossibly high wall, cursing himself for building it so high as he went. He climbed the huge Oak tree that was just outside his and Linda's bedroom until he was high enough to look in the window. The curtains were drawn, but he could hear noises coming from inside...

Continued on Mar 30, 1998

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