Wrote this... well, forevever ago. I had just started to like the Beatles, after hating them for absolutely no reason beforehand... I was odd. Anyway, this is what I wrote for a friend, a fellow Beatles lover.

Not my best work. I'm embarrassed of all 26 chapters, but it'll give a good look at my (hopefully) improvement in writing. Plus, I like the idea, just not the writing. Enjoy! Or... just laugh. That's what I do.

Chapter 1: Early Morning Invaders

I groaned as I heard another whimper. It was way too early in the morning to be woken up by a needy dog, but said dog had other ideas. She let out a mournful whine. I opened my eyes and threw off the covers in a fit of anger.

"Fine, let's go outside," I mumbled, then called for my dog, Shelby. She was out of her kennel in a flash, wagging her tail at twenty mph. Groping around in the dark, I led her up the stairs, wishing we had a doggy-door for her.

After finally finding my way to the door and letting Shelby out, I sat down on the couch and stared at the clock. It was 3:30 in the morning. I vowed to wait only five minutes, then call my dog back inside.

There was a sharp bark coming from the door, making me jump awake. I had apparently fallen asleep. The clock read 3:45. I got up and let Shelby back inside. She immediately went up to my parents' room, leaving me alone in the dark.

"You're welcome, you ungrateful mutt," I mumbled under my breath. I started heading back down stairs. As I turned the corner into the hall, I could see that the light in my room was turned on. I paused, thinking that if I didn't turn it on, who did? Then, I shrugged, figuring I was too tired at this ungodly hour to remember clearly such small details like lights.

The door to my room was halfway closed, so I swung it open. To my surprise, my room was not empty, but in fact, had people in it. Sitting on my bed, were four guys that looked vaguely familiar. They hall had identical grins of amusement as I walked in the door and stood there with an idiotic look on my face. Actually, at that time, they all looked too similar to tell apart, at least in my head. My mind raced to identify who these guys were! I looked over their identical suits; I searched their faces for any clue. Finally, when I took note of their hair, I knew.

"I'm dreaming, right?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Their grins widened and one of them laughed.

"Yup," I said, confirming my own question, "it's just another one of my bizarre dreams. Next, I suppose a flying zebra will appear from behind you and start singing Mr. Roboto, am I right?"

One of them laughed and hit another on the back, "she reminds me of you, Johnny! Flying zebras…" he snorted.

I stared at them, hands on hips, completely unamused.

"Hold it, Paul! She wasn't kidding about the flying zebra thing," a third guy said, holding up my dream journal. I had begun writing my dreams in there a few months before this incident, "her first entry is about being a flying zebra!"

"Hey!" I cried, snatching the book out of his hands. I made the mistake of looking at his crestfallen face and sad, blue eyes, then immediately felt bad.

"Alright," I said, "whether this is a dream or not, you guys don't belong in my room. I'm not even a fan of your band!" I, once again, made the mistake at looking into the blue puppy-dog eyes, "No offense, of course. Do you see a single poster with you guys on it in here? Me, neither. Please, just leave. This is way too weird, even for me."

The quiet Beatle pulled a sandwich from behind him and began eating it. It was definitely made out of the bread in our kitchen.

"I'm not even gonna comment on the sandwich," I said, rubbing my forehead.

"We were hoping you'd be excited to see us. Your texts to your friend were rather entertaining," John said calmly.

"Wait… You read my texts? Stay away from my phone."

"Oh, we didn't touch your phone. Your friend left hers at the park. Here," John handed me a cell phone, "you may want to return it her for us. It was fun while we had it, though."

I took the phone. "Erm… thanks. How long have you had it?

Paul shrugged. "A day or two."

"So I've been texting you guys for the past two days?!"

"Yes. It was rather fun. You have some very random outbursts. So we came to talk to you!" Paul grinned.

"…So you snuck into my house at four in the morning?" I asked with disbelief.

"Well, actually it was three when we got here," the one with blue eyes corrected.

I smacked my forehead, then pointed at the door. "Out!"

They looked at each other, then shrugged and got up. Paul offered a hug, but I stood there with my arms crossed. Then, John offered his hand for a handshake. This I declined, too. The other two shrugged and followed John and Paul out of my room. I hoped it was the last time I'd see them.

Of course, you don't always get what you hope for.