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John sat with some drunk in his hand. The truth was that he didn’t know what he was drinking, but the girl sitting next to him didn’t seem to mind. She smiled at him, and he winked back.
“Where are you from?”
“Here,” he replied. “What about you?”
She giggled. “Here.”
“What’s your name?”
“Jane,” she said with a sloppy smile, and then John noticed her red hair.
“Wait… but you’re dating Paul.”
“He doesn’t have to know.” When she winked, John rolled his eyes and got up. He wasn’t about to sleep with his best mate’s girl.
As he walked away, Ringo showed up, jumping up and down as he held his crotch.
“What the fuck?”
“John, I need help. I r-really need the loo, and I can’t get out of this fucking costume!”
John laughed but walked with Ringo back to the toilet, where the shorter man started to squirm even more. John closed and locked the door.
“John, can you get the zipper in the back down?”
John got closer to Ringo, but the extra legs on his octopus costume were swaying from side to side as he moved around. “Richie, you gotta stop moving.”
“I can’t. I’m gonna wee meself!”
“Christ.” John started pulling at the zipper and as it started moving, it stopped halfway. “Shit.”
“What? What’s shit? John?”
“Nothing. Just… hold still.” He tried again with the zipper, but it just wouldn’t budge. “God, why didn’t you come get somebody sooner?”
“I didn’t realise I had to go so bad. Can we just focus on what’s important here?”
“What? The fact that you’re the only one wearing a costume here? That’s the root of this entire problem. That’s why I can’t get the fucking zipper down.”
“You what?”
“I’ll try to figure it out, okay? Just wait a minute... or two. Maybe three.”
Ringo groaned, jumping again. “God, John, I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.”
“Well, try to. We don’t need a wet octopus.”
Ringo blushed at what John was implying. “I’m not gonna wet myself!”
“You said yourself that you would if you stopped moving. You know what? It doesn’t even matter. I’ll fix your zipper.”
Instead of actually finding a way to fix it, though, John spent minutes tugging at it like it was gonna make a difference.
“John, you need to fucking hurry!! I’m not kidding! Please, oh, god.”
“I’m trying! I’m fuckin trying, Rich! Fuck!” He started pulling on the zipper faster, and Ringo was moving around so much that he wasn’t getting anywhere with it. He was only stressing himself out with the whole situation.
And before he knew it, Ringo stopped moving.
“What are you doing, Richie? You okay?”
“It’s bloody coming out. I can’t stop it! John, I can’t fucking stop it!! Help me!”
“How am I supposed to help?!? Your costume zipper isn’t coming the hell down!”
“God, oh my, god.” The front of his octopus costume was slowly becoming more and more wet as his desperate grip failed him. “Dammit, John! Do something!”
“I can’t do anything!” He pulled some more at the zipper, but it only jostled Ringo and his bladder even more.
“John, stop! Bloody stop!”
“You wanted my help!”
“Just stop messing with the zipper! It’s not helping!” He groaned, wrapping his legs around each other as they were both soaked. “Shit…”
John watched as the entire thing happened, and he couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor man. “Do you want me to go get you something to change into? I’m sure you’d fit into some of Paul’s clothes.”
Ringo nodded miserably. “That’d be lovely, Johnny. Th-thanks so much.”
John nodded at him before heading off to get clothes. He knew his way around Paul’s house, so he hurried upstairs to the bassist’s room, surprised to find him sitting on the bed, crying.
“Paul? What’s the matter?”
“It’s just.. Jane was with this other guy, and they were kissing and stuff, and I don’t know. Am I just not doing something right?”
“Paul, you’re lovely to her. If she’s not treating you right, that’s on her. It’s nothing that you did.”
Paul smiled. “You’re so much nicer than you let on sometimes, Johnny. I wish I was like you.”
“Paulie, you’re being nice right now…”
The bassist laughed at him. “What are you here for anyway?”
“Well, Richie got stuck in his costume…” Paul cocked an eyebrow, curious where this was going. “He had to piss, and we tried to get it off of him, but the zipper was broken, so… well, do you have any clothes he could wear?”
Paul raised his eyebrows. “Err, yeah, of course! That’s… yeah!”
“Thanks.”
Paul got up to find a pair of shorter pants he had and a shirt that matched. Then he found a pair of underwear and socks.
“You think he’ll be fine without shoes?” John nodded. “Alright. Well, you can bring him these. Thanks for coming to get me.”
“And thanks so much for this.”
John got the clothes back to Ringo, and they both vowed to never speak of what happened ever again.