BEATLES POST YES
Strawberry Fields Forever
SLIGHT R/G, and J/P. But nothing to worry your pretty head about.
The Beatles are on tour, but they get bored and decide to make an unscheduled stop at a strawberry patch. The fans will have to wait. Hunger and boredom fixing comes first. This is set in the earlier days of their music, a little bit before Help! was put out (not the movie, but the album...or vice versa.. lol...whichever came first)
AND I SEE STRAWBERRY PATCHES AS BEING ALL FLUFFYISH AND THE GRASS'D BE TALL AND EVERYTHING WOULD BE EPIC, NOW SHUTUP.
Gaaah, I know this is stupid. xD But please, tell me if you liked it, tell me what I could improve, ladadada and all that jazzzzz.
Chapter one.
It was a nice sunday, the sky was and endless blue, the clouds a soft white, the sun shone bright. A bus drove by the green grass, and little bits and peices of houses, but not a soul in sight unless you looked in the widely opened windows. The bus belonged to The Beatles. And it was a surprise that a flock of women weren't chasing it down.
The boys all sat in their seats, playing their instruments boredly, and making zombie noises at the driver. They were upset, and not in the mood to be nice.
John was the first to snap, the obnoxious little mind he had was spinning with odd ideas and reasons to be let off the metal deathtrap. None of them worked. The driver was too used to his tricks. Paul was the next to go, and even though John's antics upset him sometimes, he wished for an outburst. It never came. Ringo lost it next, but he figured eating might solve it so he started eating an apple, which tasted amazing, but then John stole it and threw it outside of his window, snickering stupidly. Damn him. George was the most calm, his eyes fixed on the sheets of paper he had his music ideas on, his fingers and heart doing his little job. Until that got to be boring, more of an issue, since his fingers were starting to feel numb and he kept swearing that they were bleeding.
They weren't bleeding.
"Oy, bus driver." John called, wriggling past Paul, who had been sitting next to him, and walking over to sit in the back of the stuffy bus. John liked the back of the bus because it was bumpy, and it made him laugh.
"John, get back over here, the scenery is moving too slow for my poor stomach to handle." Paul joked, a little radio box in his hand, playing one of their own songs that he had taken a liking to. But why wouldn't he take a liking to it? They were the biggest thing since Mozart, anyroad.
George stared at some slips of paper him and Ringo were doodling and scribbling on, both men nudging elbows and making faces, and making odd ideas, and equally strange rewrites.
John grinned widely into the rearview mirror, catching the driver's eye, who just shook his grey head.
"John, I swear. Get out of my way, or I will stop this bus--"
"Good. Can we speed that process up a bit dearest?" John cut in, interupting the large man and waving his arms to block out every way the man could see behind him.
"John, outside, strawberries." Ringo pointed out in small words, just trying to snap his silly friend out of it. He was surprised that it worked.
"Of course of course. Guster, old bloke, could you make a short pit stop?"
"We're almost there--"
"No, here good sir. We wish to frolic about in the strawberries." John cut in again, holding back his laughter and using his best posh voice as the others let it out. Paul mouthed to his best friend to kindly shut up, but he was interupted by his now famous vocal comment.
"Sheeeeyaadap!" The boys bursted into mad fits of laughter again.
"Alright alright, calm down back there, we've made the stop. Don't stain your clothes. And don't get bit by anything poisonous." The large, round bellied driver called to the departing boys.
"Of course mummy dear." The boys snapped in unison, stepping off the bus and strolling into the field. It was lovely smelling, just like a fresh spring breeze with strawberry icecream dripped so perfectly ontop. The thought alone made John exclaim some random gibberish as he leaped around in an oddly normal way for him. Paul followed after him, almost tripping.
Ringo was in more of a chilling mood, so he climbed up ontop of the bus, making stupid animal hands and faces at George, who climbed up after him, grinning ear to ear.
"John, slow down you swine." Paul called after John, who only sped up and laughed stupidly just to annoy his younger friend. "John! John--" Something had caught his shoe and sent him face first into the ground, where he landed with a grunt. John had plopped onto his back a ways away from Paul, staring at the sky.
\: That's all I gotttt for nooow.