Costume Chaos

"What the hell is this?"

The Beatles looked at the wardrobe closet, surprised at their "outfits" were supposed to wear for this particular photo shoot. Paul's eyes widened, while George lifted an eyebrow. John snorted, his rebellious attitude coming out, while Ringo just…well, was being Ringo.

"That's it, Brian has finally lost it."
"What is he smoking?"
"I am NOT doing this"
"So that's where all the pot went…"

While the Beatles continued to stare at the wardrobe, Brian walked in the room, frowning as he noticed they didn't have their costumes on.

"Boys, hurry up! The photographer is gonna be here any minute, and you need to be ready!" Brain said.

"Eppie, there is no way I am going out like this!"
"Me either!"
"Nu-uh!"
"It's not that bad, I promise boys. Come on John, put on this costume and go get changed."
"Like hell I will!"

"John…" Brian sighed. He didn't want to put up with John's attitude right now. And he could feel a headache coming on.

"I'm with him Brian, I am not doing this," Paul piped up, not particularly pleased.
  
"Ok, how about this. If you do this, you will get some free time off? No press conferences, no photo shoots, no studio? Just some time to relax. How does that sound?"

The four Beatles looked at each other, contemplating the offer. Was it really worth it? They had been busy lately, and vacation sounded really good. They had been really tired lately…

"How long?" George questioned.

"How about two weeks?"
" Three," John said.

Brian sighed. "Alright boys, three weeks. Now will you go get changed?"

"Fine." they all grudgingly replied, and trudged off to put on their outfits.
Brian sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time when the last Beatle walked out the door. It was like he was dealing with children. He loved them, but they could be so stubborn. Maybe this whole three weeks deal wouldn't be so bad.  He needed a vacation too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Paul, you need to come out now!" John yelled, pounding on the door.

He and the other two had changed long ago, and now were waiting on Paul. John had on an Arabian styled outfit, a cheap looking vest on over a white long-sleeved shirt with baggy striped pants and boots. It wouldn't have been so bad, but the turban on his head made John feel foolish, and Paul was not helping his mood.

George stood behind John and fixed his hat again, the stupid thing falling off his head. The hat was too big, as were the clothes, the garments loose on his thin body. His costume, though not as humiliating as John's, still didn't bode well with him. He looked like Robin Hood, for goodness's sake, what did this have to do with music!?!

Ringo was wearing…well no one knew what he was wearing. Always getting the short end of the stick (plus, it was the only thing that fit him) he was in a costume with brown fur…and that's what all what the other Beatles could make out. No one had a clue what the hell he was supposed to be.

"No John! You can forget about the vacation, I don't want it anymore! I look retarded!"
"Come on, we all look stupid, how bad can it be?"
"Very bad John."
"It can't be as bad as Ringo. He looks like some pedophile in a mangled bear costume!"
"Hey!"
"You do Rings."
"You're supposed to be on my side George."
"John, I'm not coming out"
I" swear if I lose my vacation time because you are acting like a bloody bird…"
"I am not being a bird about it!"
"Are you sure? The way you are complaining, not to mention those ridiculously long eyelashes and perfectly plucked eyebrows of yours…"
"I do not pluck my eyebrows!"
"Then how are they so thin and perfect?"
"Because I'm Paul McCartney. "
"George is George Harrison, but he has a unibrow!"
"Hey! I do not have a unibrow!"
"You sorta do mate."
"You are supposed to be on my side Ringo"
"Paul seriously, come out. We all look like idiots with our costumes. We promise we won't laugh at you, right fellas?"
"We won't Paul!" George and Ringo said in unison.
"You promise?"
"Yes, Macca. Now get your ass out here."
"…Alright fine."

The door opened and Paul slowly came out. When he was fully revealed, the promise John, George, and Ringo was immediately broken. All three busted into laughter, which already made a blushing McCartney blush even more, his cheeks a bright tomato red.

Paul was, for lack of better words, a giant cat. He had cat ears at the top of his head, the insides of them pink. His "fur" was black, and he had a tail hanging from his backside.  The costume covered his whole body, except his face. He scowled as his friends continued to laugh at him.

"You said you weren't gonna laugh!"

John couldn't stop laughing, a giggle coming out between every word.

"We didn't think you would look like that!" He snorted, and George and Ringo couldn't even speak, as they were doubled over in laughter. Ringo was clutching his stomach, and George was leaning on Ringo, wiping tears from his eyes. John was the worst of all, pointing and laughing at poor Paul. He was laughing so hard no sound come out of his mouth. Paul swatted at John, but John caught his wrist, and he giggled as he noticed Paul's paw.

"Haha, look guys! He doesn't even have any claws! He's just a kitty!"
"Awww, look at the little kitty!"
He's so cute!"
"Hey, I wonder if the kitty will purr if we pet his ears."

John, George, and Ringo looked at each other, a new round of laughter started. Paul huffed, not finding the situation amusing one bit.

"Come on guys, let's go before we're late"

Paul started to walk off with what little dignity he had, his tail dragging on the floor.  His mates' laughter assaulted his ears the whole way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm gonna kill Brian. I'm gonna kill Brian. I'm gonna kill Brian. I'm gonna kill Brian. I'm gonna kill Brian…

Paul stood humiliated in front of the camera. With every flash that went off, a little more of his manhood disappeared.  It wasn't helping that he could hear his friends' snickers behind him, their constant poking and petting of his cat ears grinding on his nerves.

"Ok, now, Paul, could you get on your hand and knees, please?" the young, naïve photographer asked. Paul's jaw dropped as a bowl was placed by his feet.

"Just get by the bowl, when you are on your hands and knees, ok?" the photographer said.

You have got to be kidding me!

Slowly, as though it was painful, Paul got on his hands his knees. He mustered up the most hateful look he could for the photographer, but the man didn't notice, too excited to be taking pictures of the Beatles. Paul was seriously questioning the sanity of these photographers.

"Well, well, who knew the little kitty was so kinky, bending over like that for us!"  

A  wolf whistle was made, no doubt made by John. Paul's real human ears were burning from embarrassment, and he was glad they were covered up by the costume. He adjusted his position making sure his butt wasn't so up in the air, but it still didn't help that much.

"How much longer?" Paul asked, sounding desperate.
"About ten more minutes"

Just ten more minutes. Ten more minutes, ten more minutes.

His thought was interrupted as he felt a sudden pull on his tail, close to his behind. He looked back to see George looking away innocently. However, Paul could see the obvious smirk he was trying to hide, confirming he was the culprit.

George, the quiet Beatle. Quiet Beatle my ass.  He's been the one who's laughing the loudest. And he's pulling my tail. I'm gonna cripple him later.

Another tug.  He turned around to look at George again, but George held his hand up, poiting in a certain direction. He heard a muffled laugh and was surprised to see Ringo covering his mouth with his hand, trying to contain his laughter.

I can't believe it. Ringo of all people is bullying me. I'm gonna cripple him too when this is all over.

Another pull, a bit harder than the last two. Paul didn't even have to look to know who had done it this time.

"Stop pulling my tail," Paul said, glaring at all three of them. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, but this only made the other three laugh; his kitty costume took away from what should have been a menacing stare.

"If there weren't any witnesses, I would murder all of you."
"Little Paulie gets feisty if you pull his tail!"
"Do we have to put you outside Paulie for being a bad kitty?"

Paul sighed, and he turned back around.

As soon as he was facing the camera, he felt another pull on his tail. He was about to yell some profanities that even John didn't know, but was interrupted when he heard a sound.

Pop!

"Uh-oh"

Paul knew something bad had happened. He really hoped it wasn't what he thought it was. He swiveled around to George holding in his hands Paul's tail, which was no longer attached to his costume. George looked at him sheepishly while John and Ringo busted out in laughter.

I hate John. I hate George. I hate Ringo. I hate Brian. I hate John. I hate George. I hate Ringo. I hate Brian…

This was gonna be the longest ten minutes of his life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks later

"Oh look, here he comes"
"Shut up already or he will hear us!"
"Ringo get back! He's gonna see your nose, it's so big!"
"I'm always being picked on for me nose…"
"Shhh he's here!"

Paul walked into the studios, unaware of his three conniving friends hiding. He was whistling merrily and there was a bounce in his step. He headed over to his instrument. Placed on his Hofner was a present, wrapped nicely with a pink bow on top.

"Oooooh a present for me! How gear!" His good day could not get any better.

He opened it quickly, like a child on Christmas. The smile he had disappeared quickly as soon as he saw the contents of the box.  

Inside, was his nightmare.  In his hands he held a picture; it showed a humiliated Paul on all fours scowling, while John George and Ringo were behind him, trying to hide their amusement. Just as he thought it couldn't get worse, there was more to the present.

Wrapped in tissue paper, he uncovered a collar, the name Paulie stitched on in pink letters. Hanging from the collar was a little golden bell. Paul's cheeks flushed red when he realized who exactly gave him this present, their laughter echoing in the studio.

JOHN! GEORGE! RINGO!"