Monday, March 05, 2012

My Time With Paul

Scene opens with Paul McCartney appearing, as if by magic, on my couch, comfortably seated and fully nude.

Bill: Huh? The fuck is going on?
Paul only shrugs, and we sit in silence for a moment.
Bill: So, uh, hey Paul. Wanna borrow some pants or something?
Paul: Nah, I'm good mate. So, what's on TV?
Bill: Oh, I'm watching a movie, but the Grammy's are on if you want me to change it to that. You're my favorite Beatle, by the way.
Paul: No, I've been wanting to see this movie. I don't understand baseball, though.
Bill: Nobody does, Paul. You want a beer? Glass of wine?
Paul: Sure, wine would be good.
Bill: So, uh, Paul. Don't take this the wrong way, but I wish you were my girlfriend. No, no, I don't mean like. . . no, I mean that my lady, she's not exactly my girlfriend, really, but I wish that my lady had teleported here naked instead of you. I mean, I'm really happy to meet you and all, it's a big honor, but, you know, you're really old and your balls are creeping me out.
Paul: Yeah, mate, everyone tells me that my balls are creepy.
Bill: How many people see your balls?
Paul: What, like, per week? I'm a fucking Beatle, man, what do you think?
Bill: Oh, right, Beatles. Gotcha. I'm Bill, by the way.
A moment
Bill: So, Paul, I would ask for your autograph on a Beatles record, but I don't have, like, any physical records or anything here. All digital music. So, uh, can you sign this box of Golden Grahams?
Paul: You know, Bill, more people actually get me to sign breakfast cereal than records. Maybe it's because I'm constantly teleporting around the world, nude and out of control. It happens every time I poop.
Bill: Dude, wait. . . . so, you teleport when you poop? Does that mean that I've got Beatle shit on my couch?
Paul: No, mate, the poop isn't part of my body anymore, so it stays back where I came from with my clothes.
Bill: That's. . . . that's really weird, Paul. I think I might be hallucinating.

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