Bassist and the Beast

Chapter 16: Others

"Um... What is this exactly?"

Paul asked the question as he stared at the piece of meat on his fork, the apple resting next to the plate, a small bite taken out of it on the opposite side of the bruise.

Cynthia, who was resting next to George, looked down at the tablecloth for a moment, becoming nervous.

"Well dear..." She spoke quietly, gaze slowly rising to the bassist, "we do not need to eat, for we art just objects, but your highness is an organic being, so he has to. During the spring and summer, he just goes out and collects some apples and berries from nearby bushes and trees, but during fall and winter..."

Cynthia paused, glancing over at George and Ringo, both of whom looked equally as nervous.

She continued.

"Your highness... well... Sharp teeth and claws need to be put to use, since the collection of apples and fruit would not last until spring. So..."

Paul blinked at her, lowering his fork just a little.

"I... I think I get it."

George looked up at him, only the wick on the main candle lit.

"It does not... bother thou, right?"

"I uh... I was thinking about... becoming a vegetarian lately."

Ringo glanced up at him.

"O-Oh... we art sorry about-"

"No no. It's fine. After all, it doesn't seem like you have anything else around here to eat."

Cynthia smiled a little, however, before she could speak...

Bark

The door leading to the dining room came open, a small wooden step stool, covered in a red velvet fabric, running up to the table.

A small bundle of fabric wiggled behind it as it continued to bark.

"Martha?" Cynthia asked in amazement.

Paul stared at the step stool, noticing that it didn't have a face.

Yet, he had a good idea at what it used to be.

Martha came running up to Paul's leg, supporting herself on her hind wooden legs as she stared up at the piece of meat on the bassist's fork.

A wooden coat rack came hopping into the room, two eyes and a mouth visible on its main wooden pole.

"Martha! Down girl! Down!"

"Maureen?" Ringo asked, turning towards the coat rack.

Upon hearing Maureen's voice, Martha lowered down to the floor, turning around.

"Uh... I take it that this is a dog?" Paul asked as the coat rack stopped next to him, all of its hangers stretched out.

"Yes. I am Maureen Tigrett. Sorry that we could not meet sooner, Paul, but I hast been busy."

Ringo walked to the edge of the table, staring at Paul.

"Well, know thou know of our ladies here. And do not mind Martha. She just goes crazy whenever she smells a cooked meal."

"I... Think I could have figured that out."

George and Cynthia stared at each other for a moment, the candlestick sighing lightly.

George hopped forward.

"So... thou still going to eat?"

"Yes," Paul replied, turning back to him.

The bassist stared at the piece of meat on his fork for a moment before putting it in his mouth.

"Huh... better than I expected..."

Maureen looked down at Ringo, who stared up at her, smiling.

"I thought that breakfast was off for this morning," the coat rack stated.

"Yeah, but Paul came down here himself and said that he was hungry. And, though thou might think that this is strange, he does deserve to at least eat without permission from your highness."

"I get that we all feel sorry for him... in a way, but thou know that your highness would not appreciate this."

"He does not hast to know. Besides..."

Ringo looked away from Maureen for a moment.

"I uh... had a... moment in the kitchen, after Brian refused to cook. My uh... my pendulum froze, and he turned my handle for me, and now I am alright."

Maureen blinked.

"What? Nothing like that has happened to thou before."

"Yeah. It is a good thing he was here though, because none of us could probably get a grip on it."

Paul leaned back in his chair, staring at the apple as he finished the last piece of meat.

"So, can I... look around?"

George hopped up next to Ringo as they both shared glances.

"Sure, we will both guide thou around," George stated after a moment.

He leaned close to Ringo, whispering quietly.

"Whatever happens, do not let him get curious about the hallway."