So I saw a couple of these types of things on here already, so I thought that I would give it a go.

This is a Beatles story mixed into Across the Universe, but for my sanity, pretend the Beatles are not famous. If that’s possible. I can’t write screaming girls. It’s just too repetitive. Those who CAN do it, all to you. I can’t. So don’t mind them. They’re just ordinary people, alright?

Adios!

The lyrics are dividers. GRATZI!

.can.i.have.a.little.more?

“Lookit this, George.”

“Lookit what?”

“My entire hand can fit over your knee.”

“Your what?”

“My hand.”

“Your hand what?”

“Look here, George, my hand fits entirely over your knee!”

The phone interrupts Paul’s discovery. He takes his hand off of George’s knee and picks it up.

“Hello?” He says in the most businesslike way he can.

“Paul, I’ve met someone.” John says on the other end.

“Who?”

“Who’s he got?” George asks.

“This man, he says his name is Jude.” John continues.

“Jude?” George laughs.

“What a funny name.” George says to himself.

“Well not everyone can be named George Harrison.” Ringo says, walking in the apartment they all shared. “People don’t pick names, you know. Their mums do.”

“Well your mother certainly did not name you Ringo, Ringo.” George says.

“Shhh!!” Paul demands, trying to listen to the other end. “Who is he?”

“He’s an artist. He draws things.” John says.

“I know what an artist does, John.” Paul says quickly.

“Who knows what you know, Paul.”

“I think I know what I know.” Paul says defensively.

“Well just hurry up and come to the footbridge, I want you to meet ‘im.”

“Alright.”

“Bring the others. Tell George to bring his guitar.”

“George, John says to bring your guitar.” Paul says, hanging up.

“Bring my guitar where?”

“The footbridge.” Paul stands up and slips on his jacket.

“I wanted to read.” Ringo says, but stands up anyways.

“You can read later, let’s go meet this famous ‘artist’.” The way Paul says it makes everyone laugh a bit.

.can.i.have.a.little.more?

“There you are, I’ve been waiting for you.” John snaps shortly with his arms folded. “It’s freezing out here, do you know how cold it is?”

“Get over it.” Paul jokes. “Where is he?”

“He’s inside, I’ve been waiting for you out here.”

George stumbles out of the cab, holding his giant acoustic guitar strapped high above his belt.

Ringo follows after him, slamming the door.

“It is cold.” Paul says while waiting for George.

“See, what did I tell you?”

“Let’s go in then.” George says, moving carefully so he wouldn’t hit his guitar.

.can.i.have.a.little.more?

“Hey Judey.” John says, leaning over on the table that was in front of Jude and his artwork. “These are the guys.”

Jude looks over the table to see three new faces he hadn’t seen before. “Oh, uhm, hello.”

“Hello.” They all say in unison.

“Anyways, I told you that George does art, now George, show him.”

“Show him what?” He asks innocently.

“Show ‘im your guitar!” John finishes.

“Well what song should I play?”

Jude looks over them, obviously trying to see anyone else coming to see his exhibit, if you would call it that.

“I don’t know, George, just pick one.”

George looked at Jude, who was looking away, trying to avoid the boys.

“I look, at you all, see the love there that’s sleeping… While my guitar, gently weeps.” The boys tap their feet gently to the slow, mesmerizing beat that George made with his guitar. “I look…” Paul harmonizes for George. “At you all, see the love there that’s sleeping… While my guitar, gently weeps…”

“Show him the solo.” Ringo whispers, and Paul joins in.

“Yeah, show him the solo.”

George hesititates, and then plays an amazing solo that makes everyone in the place look over.

Jude looks at them all, looking up at him like little kittens.

“I told you he could play.” John states proudly.

Jude looks at John, to Paul, to George, to Ringo… the short little fellow with the rings.

After a long pause, Jude finally speaks. “What did you say your name was?”

.can.i.have.a.little.more?

“Jude, I went to the store to buy some milk, because I thought we were out, but when I looked in the fridge--” Lucy stopped speaking when she saw the five boys instead of one at her door. “Who are they?” She asks, her voice a blend of frustration, curiosity, and plain cluelessness.

“This is John,” John smiled.

“Nice to meet you.” He added.

“Paul,” Paul just winked, which made Lucy turn slightly pink.

“George,” he nodded his head.

“And… Ringo.”

Ringo didn’t say anything… he was looking at all the drawings on the wall.

“Oh.” Lucy said shortly. “Well… Uh…I’m Lucy.”

John stepped forward. “Lucy is a beautiful name, you know. I think I had a girlfriend named Lucy.”

Paul noticed Jude’s angry look and pulled John back by the back of his shirt.

“Watch it, this stretches easily.” John said, straightening his shirt.

They all pause.

“What are you doing here?”

“They have talent.” Jude said immediately. “Real talent.”

“Really.” Lucy said shortly. “So you brought them home?”

John whispered a smart remark to Paul which made him laugh a bit.

“Well, you know, I think that Sadie could hook them up for a gig, you know. In the club. Or, one of them.”

“Hey, now.” Paul said defensively. “I play an instrument too.”

“As do I!” Ringo adds in.

“We all do.” John explains, looking at the particular painting on the wall of Lucy, who happened to be missing her shirt.

“Oh, do you?” Lucy sits down. “What do you play?”

Paul sits on a chair next to the door. “Well, I play bass, John plays rhythm, and Ringo plays the drums.”

“The what?”

“The drums.”

“The drooms?”

“The drums!” They all say together.

“Oh, the… the drums.”

“Yes.” They all say together again.

Lucy bites her lip and looks away. “Uh, Jude… Sadie doesn’t get home until 4.”

“I realized that…” Jude said, slightly annoyed at John staring at his shirtless girlfriend.

“I have to go to work. I’ll be back, though, okay?”

Jude mumbles an ‘okay’ and kisses her goodbye.

She shuts the door and then John laughs mischievously.

“What a fox, she is!” He says immediately.

Jude places a hand on the back of his neck. “Uh, guys…”

“You have anything to eat?” Ringo wonders, opening the fridge and taking out a beer.

“Pass one.” Ringo tosses one to John, his legs draped over the side of the couch.

“That’s Sadie’s best couch…” Jude mumbles.

George sets his guitar down and runs into Sadie’s room. He lets out a noise of excitement. “Boys! See this!” The others follow and see 7 guitars, perfect shape, all lined up. “Look at this… is this…” George lets out another sound that no one could understand. “WOW!”

John snickers. “Look at this…” He picks a bra off of the ground. “Who’s is this?”

Jude gapes for a moment. “Get out of here!” He hisses under his breath. “Get, get, get!!”

Paul puts his hands up innocently and they all walk out.

They’re all piled on the couch, squished together. John is wheeling the bra around on his finger.

“Now, who’s got something to smoke?” John asks.

“I’ve got something.” George reaches in his pocket and pulls out a smooth cigarette box. “Here.” He tosses one over to John.

“Now that is good stuff, good stuff.” Paul says, taking one and lighting all of theirs with his blue lighter.

“Guys!!” Jude yells, and they all look over.

“What?” John asks.

“You… you guys… you have to behave!” Jude yells. “If you want me to get you guys a gig, you can’t act like animals! Okay?”

They all look at him.

“Animals?” George repeats.

Jude looks at them all. “yes, animals!”

John laughs at this. “Have a smoke, Judey.” He tosses him a cigarette. “It’ll do you good.”

Jude looked at the cigarette on the floor. If he bent down to get it, it would look like he was desperate for it. But he was desperate for it. He needed it. He longed for it. He wanted it so, so much.

“Smoking is a… smoking’s a nasty habit.” He shook his head, trying to resist the urge to smoke it.

“But you want one.” John says, teasing him. “You do, I can see it in your eyes. Can’t you tell he wants one, Paulie?”

Paul looks at Jude in the eye. “Yeah, he wants one. Give ‘im one.”

“I did.” John snaps.

“Well why isn’t he smoking it?”

“Uh, John… I don’t smoke. So, uh….”

John laughs. “Says who?”

“Says me!” He snaps back. “It’s a nasty habit.”

“Habit rhymes with rabbit, and rabbits aren’t that bad.” Ringo says, and gets a confused, angry look from Jude. “What?”

“Whatever, it’s your own loss, son.” John bends over and picks the cigarette up, and then tosses it back to George who slips it back in the box.

Jude holds his head and wonders what mess he just got himself into.