Escape of the Nerk Twins

Chapter XIV

I don't own the Beatles.  Neither do I own Estonia.  What, if any, is the connection between these two statements?

A/N:  I know, I'm gone for ages and then I post two chapters in as many days!  What's up with that?  Anyroad, some announcements:  a) thanks so much to Macca40 for giving me the idea for this chapter back in November!  Finally, George and Ringo get to see a bit of adventure, thanks to her :0)  b) I've taken some liberties with describing the Glasgow Zoo, as I've never been there and it closed in 2003.  Forgive me if I've made any mistakes.  c) Thanks so much to everybody who reviewed last chapter:  FanFiction -- leah9712 and ThisBirdHasFlownToRhye; WattPad -- Macca40.  d) More notes at the end!

"What now?" asked Ringo. He and George were strolling down yet another grey street. Row houses lined one side of the road, and a chain-linked fence kept the unkempt trees on the other side at bay.

George kicked a pebble idly across the pavement. "I dunno. Have fun, I guess. I hope John and Paul are this bored."

"Let's go to the zoo!" exclaimed Ringo.

George looked over at his friend in alarm. "Where did that idea come from?"

Ringo pointed excitedly at a white sign that hung on the fence. "Welcome to Glasgow Zoo Park," it proclaimed in bright red letters. Next to it was a gate, which opened onto a rather gloomy, wide road into the zoo, lined with blockish buildings. A lone vendor morosely tended his peanut stand in the middle of the path.

George shrugged. "Haven't got anything better to do," he commented, unaware that at precisely the same moment John Lennon was saying the exact same thing.

Ringo excitedly grabbed George's hand and pulled the suddenly lethargic guitarist down the road.

"Can we stop and get some peanuts?" asked George.

"Fine," grumbled Ringo. He reluctantly stopped.

"We'll have three bags, please," George asked the vendor. The vendor grinned, showing off his lack of front teeth, and ran a hand through what was left of his wispy grey hair. He scooped peanuts into three red-and-white striped, paper bags and handed them to George. George eagerly grabbed a handful of peanuts and began to eat them.

"That'll be eleven and six," said the vendor through his gapped teeth. George choked on his peanuts.

"That's as much as I paid for fish and chips earlier!" exclaimed George indignantly as soon as he recovered from a small coughing fit.

The vendor held out a hand, calloused palm up.

Ringo fished around in his pocket and pulled out a handful of clinking coins that shimmered dully under the clouds.

"Ten . . . eleven . . . six," he muttered, counting out eleven shillings and sixpence. "There we are!"

The drummer dropped the appropriate amount of money in the vendor's hand, which snapped shut instantly. Ringo led George away.

"I'm always bailing you out, aren't I?" said Ringo, grinning. "And how can you be hungry already?"

"Don't rub it in," groaned George, grabbing another handful of peanuts and chewing them with unnecessary ferocity.

As George and Ringo strolled on through the zoo, they started to see other visitors. A pair of little boys ran past and disappeared into the reptile house, one shouting, "I'll get you! I'll tag you!" An older woman with steel-rimmed, narrow glasses and high heels tottered past, grumbling that her granddaughter could have chosen a less smelly outing. A young couple sat on a bench near the lion enclosure, ignoring the lions completely.

The two Beatles soon found that it was far more entertaining to people watch than to talk about the animals.

"Doesn't she realize that poodle skirts went out of fashion?"

"I don't know about you, but I wouldn't have a picnic outside the tiger enclosure."

"Look, he's got an umbrella. Always good to come prepared, eh?"

"The monkey house!" exclaimed Ringo as they rounded another corner. The drummer bounded into the small building gleefully. George ambled after him.

The pair wandered through the rather dark room, peering into the indoor monkey enclosure. One lithe animal raced across the dirt floor of the room to greet his visitors. It leapt up onto a perch just on the other side of the wire. Ringo made a face at the monkey, sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes. The monkey copied the man, stretching its mouth as wide open as it could. Ringo laughed.

The only other occupants of the room were a pair of suited men sitting on the bench opposite, each with a newspaper opened widely, obscuring his face.

"I bet it's horrible, being stuck in there your whole life," said Ringo suddenly, sticking a finger through the wires of the enclosure. The monkey gripped his finger tightly between its small hands.

"Yeah," agreed George, peering into the darker depths of the enclosure.

"Hands in the air!" shouted someone behind them in a thick Scottish accent. George and Ringo whipped around; Ringo's monkey friend chattered a warning to his fellows, leaping off his perch and plunging back into the shadowy enclosure.

A tall, muscled policeman glared down at George and Ringo.

"Well, you see –" started George.

"Erp," added Ringo.

The Beatles turned and raced out the back door at top speeds, the policeman hot on their heels.

"STOP!" yelled the policeman as George and Ringo raced past the young couple in front of the lion cage.

"TAKE THAT!" shouted Ringo, grabbing some peanuts from one of George's bags and chucking them over his shoulder at the policeman. The peanuts fell to the ground, missing their mark by at least three meters.

"I'VE COME TO APPREHEND YOU!" bellowed the policeman as he gained on the two famous musicians. George nearly knocked over the older woman in high heels.

"Sorry, sorry!" he apologized over his shoulder.

"I don't wanna die!" moaned Ringo, barreling past the two young boys, who temporarily paused in their game of tag, staring awestruck at the band members.

The policeman snatched at the back of Ringo's collar, barely missing.

"Keep running!" shouted George, tripping over his own feet. The policeman tackled the guitarist and snapped handcuffs around the young man's wrists. Ringo pinwheeled to a stop particularly ungracefully.

"Keep going, you fool!" yelled George.

"I'm not running away alone!" retorted Ringo.

"Mr. McCartney, you're under arrest!" bellowed the policeman in George's ear.

George and Ringo groaned.

Back in the monkey house, all was silent as before. One of the suited men turned the page of his newspaper; it rustled in the silence. The other coughed.

Mick Jagger suddenly turned to Keith Richards, both still obscured behind their newspapers.

"Were those who I think they were?" the singer asked his bandmate.

A/N:  I have no idea whether the Rolling Stones were actually in Glasgow in October 1964 (they probably weren't), but I couldn't resist this little scene at the end :0)

Please leave reviews to tell me you're still reading, despite my inconsistent posting habits ;0)  Ta!