...WHAT? SO I WROTE ANOTHER ONE, OK, STOP JUDGING ME! *Grumbles*

SO anyway! This is gonna be a few chapters long, haven't decided how much though, but yeah. Review and tell me what you think. D'you like it, d'you hate it? Should it be continued? Are you sick of me and just want me to get a life? Cuz god knows I should, but meh. My boys are more fun :P

ENNNJOOOYYYYY

"Paul!"

"I could just over dub it later.."

"PAUL!" Paul still ignored John's yells from below, giving Brian his best puppy look. His manager still looked uncertain, with George Martin sitting impassively behind him, fiddling with the endless buttons on the panel in front of him. George knew the final decision was Brians to make, so he just chose to stay out of it.

"Eppy, its three in the morning! Everybody's knackered!" Paul pleaded. Brian sighed.

"I know that, Paul.."

"PAAAUUUUULLLLLLLLLL"

"Dammit John! I'm trying to talk here!" Paul snapped, glaring at John through the glass. John held up a crudely drawn drawing of a penis, smiling wickedly when Brian blushed and Paul had to stifle a laugh.

"I know." John said very seriously, making his drawing dance in the air. Paul rolled his eyes and turned back to Brian.

"Look, see, John's losing his mind. Can't I just come in early tomorrow and finish this up?"

"PAUL, CAN I STAY AT YOUR HOUSE TONIGHT?" John screeched, literally, spinning around in one of the office chairs he'd dragged in earlier. Brian raised an eyebrow.

Paul briefly squeezed the bridge of his nose. "See?"

Eppy sighed resignedly. "Fine. But I want you here at nine sharp, alright? Nine sharp. And finish it up before everyone gets here. You know we're on a very tight deadline, Paul."

"Thanks Eppy!"

"EPPY YOU JEWISH CUNT!" John hollered angrily from below, throwing the now crumpled up drawing at Brian, where it harmlessly hit the glass with a thump and fell to the floor.

"He's letting us go John!"

"Oh. Thanks Eppy!" John said cheerfully, getting up to put his guitar back in its case. George Martin started shutting his system down. Paul sneezed.

Ringo and George walked back in, having chosen to go get a snack in the ten minute break they'd all been given. It'd been a gruelling day at the studio, all of them in since four in the afternoon, with non stop recording. Their label was pressuring them for another album, and evn though John and Paul had quite a lot of songs written up, they were expected to record them quicker than humanly possible.

"We can leave?" Ringo asked hopefully when he saw everybody packing up, his tired blue eyes lighting up. John nodded, yawning. Ringo immediately did a little jig.

"I think Paul worked his puppy magic." George said teasingly as Paul put away his beloved bass. Paul snorted, watching Ringo, whose little jig had gone on longer than expected.

"If anyone can work the puppy look, its you son." Paul said, gesturing to Ringo. John walked up besides him, clapping Paul on the shoulder and grinning at Ringo.

"The nose just ruins it."

"Was waiting for that." George said casually as Ringo immediately stopped dancing and pouted.

"You're mean, Johnny."

"Wouldn't want to leave you waiting."

"Get out of here, the four of you!" Brian said into the mike, George's hand hovering over the light switch, waiting for them to leave.

"YOU JEWISH CUNT!" John hollered, flipping Brian the bird.

"Oh shut it John!" Brian shot back sternly, though everyone could tell he was joking, and they all laughed basically just glad to be going home.

"Glad you finally grew a pair, Brian. God knows you love those!" John retorted, and Brian blushed again.

"Come on!" Paul said impatiently, grabbing Johns arm and dragging him away. John fell over on Paul dramatically. Paul pushed him back, laughing despite how tired he was.

"Bye Eppy! Bye George!" They all called, leaving the recording studio and making their way to the exit. They were all different when they were tired. Paul would just be tired, yawning and rubbing at his eyes and dozing whenever he could but still ploughing on. George was very unpredictable, at times being very moody, and other times very active. Ringo was just Ringo.

John, however, would get hyper. And not just 'I had a lot of sugar' hyper. It was more of 'I just polished off three cakes and a shot of adrenaline' hyper. Right now, he walked, or jumped, alongside Paul, bobbing his head around.

"So can I stay at your place?" He asked casually, randomly running his hands through Pauls hair. Paul pushed him away, finding himself laughing again despite his aching head.

"Since when do you ever need an answer to that one?"

"True, true."

"God, I'm knackered." Paul yawned, trying to smooth his hair back down again. John made a show of crashing into the door once they reached it, falling dramatically to the floor at george's feet, pretending to have passed out. Everyone laughed, and George grabbed his legs and started dragging him out. Johns eyes immediately flew open.

"'Ey, Leggo of my legs you wanker!" John yelled, struggling like crazy as George dragged him out into the chilly air. He squealed like a little girl when his shirt lifted up and the cold floor touched his bare back. George let go, laughing too hard to hold on, and John pounced on him, touching his cold hands onto his stomach. George squealed too and squirmed around, trying to throw John off but still laughing along with everyone else.

"NOT SO FUN IS IT?" John cried wickedly, cackling madly, still holding on and putting freezing hands wherever he could over a struggling and laughing George.

"Oh, leave off John." Ringo said half heartedly, still snickering. Paul was still laughing, because really, hearing two of you mates squeal like little girls in one day was too much. John and George just slapped each other around until they finally stopped, laughing like maniacs.

"I'm heading home then." George said, straightening his shirt down and trying to catch his breath. "G'night lads. Crazy sod!" He added, giving John an affectionate shove. John pretended to jump him with a very loud scream.

"I think we should keep it down." Paul said cautiously, looking around. It was really late, and he suddenly felt a bit uneasy.

"Oh lighten up son, the place is deserted!" John chided.

"It's a bit late, though. Why don't you guys just crash at my place too?" Paul said after a moments pause, rubbing at his aching eyes. "John's stayin' over anyways."

"What a wonderful idea, Pauliekins!"

George and Ringo seemed to consider it. They had Pattie and Maureen to get back to, but they were all tired and it was cold, so it seemed to be a more feasible and far more tempting option to just spend the night at Pauls, whose house was literally a few minutes away.

"Alright, I guess. One night wouldn't hurt" George agreed, nodding his head. Everybody turned to Ringo.

"C'mmooonnn Rings!" John said excitedly, clapping him on the shoulder. "Slumber party!"

RIngo chuckled, then nodded. "Alright then. 'M really tired anyway."

"Yay!"

"Let's just hurry up though." Paul insisted, rubbing his arms to keep himself warm. "I think my balls are gonna fall off any minute now."

John snorted. "What balls?" He said as they all headed over to Pauls car, wanting nothing more than to just get some warm blankets and fall asleep.