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[Sgt.Honeypie]

well that's Icee in a nutshell for ye

[Beatlemon]

LOL! You guys rock! It's supposed to be a mystery, lots of cliffhangers and stuff. Anyway, Chapter 4 ....

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It started innocently enough. George woke up to a hellishly busy day and found that Paul's nose was itchy, and that Ringo was missing. In fact, even John, who had been forced to sleep in the bed with him (On the nights where it was really warm, it's a generally closely guarded secret that they slept spread eagled without any covers at all on them. But of course, that's another story.) could not say where the drummer of the most famousest band in England could have snuck off to. Could he have been blown out the window? Swept under the carpet? Well, it turned out that there was a mysterious letter delivered to our lovely lads from Liverpool. Ringo, in fact, had been kidnapped.

Meanwhile, back to George.

Who was currently roaming the streets of the typical English village with very few people who recognized anyone of musical importance. The sky was unusally dark and the fog seemed to be settling at an alarming rate. No matter, a walk's a walk.

He approached a fruit stand (Despite the weather), and noticed the bananas because they were yellow, they stood out from those dull green cabbages and dirty potatoes the farmer was also selling. Normally he wouldn't do this at all - the mania and stuff. It was a strange little world he lived in nowadays, not even allowed to take a walk and buy a banana.

"These aren't local, y' know." The farmer said as he took George's money.

"Sort of thought it, mister." George looked up at the grey sky from beneath his dark glasses and smirked. "I mean, you can't exactly grow banana trees around here, can you?"

"Bananas are a tropical fruit that are imported from the continent usually. Did you know that they have a cousin in the tropics called the plantain?" The farmer prattled. He still had George's banana. And George was getting hungry.

"Um, no but -"

"The plantain is usually fried and is more of a side dish to their idiot chicken - ‘scuse me, jerk chicken. It's really quite good. Did you know that there are over a hundred varieties of banana currently cultivated?"

"Well, I don't pay attention to that sorta thing, mister -"

"Of course the missus only puts bananas in bread and cakes, but I like the big red ones meself. Yep, they have big red ones which are more like plantain only less bitter and more of a, hm, how do you say it .... well anyway, there's long ones, small ones, minis, you can do a lot with bananas. Anyway, here's your change. Enjoy your banana."

"Obliged." George started walking away, throwing the banana peel onto the street. Walking down the street unrecognized was something he rarely did these days. He was wearing his big black overcoat and sunglasses, and he had slicked his hair back. It wasn't exactly what he'd thought of, but it was certainly doing the trick. He'd be aiming toward a hoard of girls, some of them quite luscious to look at, and he was just about to cross the street when they decided he was an unsavoury looking bloke and moved to the other side of the road! Usually it would be the total opposite, but then again, this was a strange little place. Almost spooky.

He noticed that it was getting darker, more thunderheads were replacing the white cloud in the horizon he'd seen moments earlier. And it was getting mistier by the moment. Oh well, maybe he could look out for Ringo, see if he'd gotten lost, or worse, slipped on his banana peel.

He grinned and wandered the streets, passing by the dull row houses so typical, sometimes passing a green field as he got farther and farther away from the village common.

Just as he was passing by another line of houses - the ones that were so tightly built that they looked like a train, all similar with pale grey stucco - he heard a scream.

It sounded as if someone was dying.

Well, this isn't so lovely after all, is it? He thought, face growing pale. Which house was it coming from, and why wasn't anyone doing something?

Suddenly a hand gripped him and another closed a cloth around his mouth. He tried to shout for help, but he felt like he was drifting .... and eventually, he was unconscious.

He didn't even see the shadowy figure, so well concealed in the dark fog that had crept through the village during the early morning. The sun was barely alive high up in the roiling, booming atmosphere. Shadows could do things like this .... They could pry around, follow, and consume . .... And nobody would notice, would they ... ?

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XD evil laugh

[ibrake4whales]

NOT GEORGE TOO!!!! NOOOO!!

hehe i like it alot, seriously!

[dude41]

Famousest is my new favorite word.

By the by, great story!

[ibrake4whales]

Beatlemon i LOVE your banner, so... sexy! ;D

[FiendishThingy]

ahhhh!!! george!!
seriously though, great story!! i hope you post more soon!! i have to know what happens!