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George looked up from his bowed stance at the end of a hard days night (har har)
He wiped the sweat off his sweaty brow and turned to his band mates
“Wow that was good!” He yelled over the screaming fans, Paul was next to him on the mic and so the audience could hear them talk in their Liverpudlian accents,
“Yeah” he said with a smirk “I think that’s the best show we’ve done in a while”
George nodded at that and turned to face Ringo who was in a fit of laughter at John who had tripped on his way off stage
“Shitting christ” John muttered embarrassedly.
The drive to the hotel was quiet, John had a bruise on his pointy little nose from where he fell, George thought to himself “it’s lucky he wasn’t wearing glasses cause he would’ve had an eye out, and no one wants a blind guitarist by the name of John Lennon” when he heard Ringo giggle from the front seat he realised he said it aloud!
As they entered the lobby they checked in, looking at the sign in sheet the lads checked what rooms they’d be in. Paul had 42 John had 43 George had 44 and Ringo had 44- wait what? Ringo had 44 as well, this can’t be good George thought to himself, there may be antics that will ensue from this debacle, his brain continued.
He decided to ignore it for now and climbed the stairs to the 4th floor (the lift wasn’t working)
“God, I need a smoke” he wheezed (a sentiment he would later regret.
George turned the key to his room to look hopefully inside, there was Ringo lying back on the bed in his little pjs relaxedly.
George’s eyes scanned the room and after a while he realised there were two single beds, John must’ve booked them in a twin room together because he was angry. No double beds for me :( George frowned internally.
He then pissed and went to sleep
The end