Queen & Beatles | OneShots

Paul McCartney - Pretty Little Miscreant

When it came to providing for your family, you, like many, would do anything. It wasn't so out of the realm of possibility that you could make a side earning with a little Robin Hood game. The rich were only getting richer whilst everyone else starved, after all.

So you took to hanging around London clubs in the early hours. A shadowy figure that demands cash and jewellery and then disappears into the night. Drunk, loaded men and women would be faced with your 'Stand and Deliver' message and a small switch blade that you never truly planned to use but was visible in your gloved hand. It sounded much cooler than it was. But needs must. And you were in need.

There was this one night, around 2am. It was lightly raining, a refreshing mist if anything. And there were people leaving busy London clubs all the time, taking shortcuts to their hotels to either black-out or shack-up. You had perched on a raised window ledge and were watching a man and woman attempt to walk down your chosen alley. The woman was clearly far more intoxicated as she laughed and tried to form sentences. When they were close enough, you would stop them and take their belongings. The couple took a few more steps and you hopped on down to block their path.

"Alright, let's be quick about it, no need for people to get hurt. Hand over anything worth a- Are you in The Beatles?" Your very much out-loud thought cut you off. The man's face was one of shock but he had a bit of amusement in his eyes. He clearly wasn't sure whether to take this seriously or not. You'd probably have to bring out the knife. "I have a knife, by the way."

"That's nice."

Why was this robbery so awkward?

"He's t-the one with money. I only work in a shop. P-please can I just go? I don't have anything to offer-" The girl was very beautiful but stuttering and stumbling in her plea. At least you scared one. Even in her drunken state, she seemed put together enough to get herself to safety.

This lady had a point. Stealing from someone else who's just trying to get by was cruel, she didn't seem to have anything to offer.

"Yes, okay, get gone." You sigh.

She wastes no time in turning around and darting away from the scene. The man turns a little, watching her run in heels. He doesn't say anything but turns to face you again after a couple of seconds. He seems so calm and unphased by the whole ordeal by this point. He's probably stoned out of his mind.

"I am in The Beatles. I'm Paul."

"Hiya Paul, give me your money."

"No."

What did he mean no? You had a knife! How had no one ever called your bluff on this? Damn, now what? Did these famous musicians really think they were so untouchable? Or was she starting to lose her touch,

"You don't wanna get smart with me." She threatened, in a lower tone.

"I'm not getting smart. Judging by your voice, I'm gonna guess you're a woman." His speech is well kept together, like he's not drunk at all. Hell, maybe he isn't. But that then makes this a little bit more difficult.

"So?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just an observation."

"Alright well, you're very observant. Can we do all gently? I wouldn't want to have to use force on a celebrity." You emphases the word with a degree of mocking.

Paul just shrugs at it. This was the most interesting night he'd had in a while. He went out a lot and ended up leaving with girl, that part was to his expectation, but he'd never been robbed before. It would be a good story for parties, that was for sure.