Can't Buy Me Love

Part 15: Taxman

At his lips being taken by this woman he'd never seen, George was surprised at first, but at seeing how pretty and blonde she was, he did little to deter her.

When she pulled back, ecstatic, George had a dizzy look, his large teeth on display in a large-mouthed smile.

"Alriiiight." He said, upbeat.

You were only a befuddled spectator at the scene before you.

However, when George went in for another, with enthusiasm, you grabbed his arm, keeping him from his prize.

"Now hold on just a minute!" You said, indignant. "I might not be like the other girls, but I've seen the teeniebopper magazine covers on the rack when searching for my Russ Morgan times and playboys. You've got a girlfriend, you scoundrel!"

George began to giggle, making a face akin to this: ('∀｀)ʱªʱªʱª

"C'mon luv, don't get all worked up." George said, friendly. "You don't understand, polyamory is a part of my religion, see?"

He pulled up one of his sleeves, showing you his swastika tattoo.

George returned his attention to your friend Sandra.

"Now where were we, luv." He said. "By gum, you're saving me a trip to gumtree. And it's so difficult to get online too, with how Lennon McCartney hog the computer for their masturbation sessions. It's not even like I can join in, all they wank to is weird Mommy kink stuff."

Sandra was giggling.

"Oh George, you're so funny!" She giggled, playing with her hair. "And so sexy in Help (1965) when you changed that tire. Nothing like a little baby boy who doesn't have sex."

Suddenly, George jumped, as if panicked.

"Oh no!" He said. His eyes darted to you. "Y/n! By gum! I've gotta get you back!"

He grabbed at his arm, looking at his wristwatch, a hand went to his hair in panic.

"Paul's almost back from the hospital maternity ward, where he hides behind doorways and wanks to women giving birth. We gotta go, now! Or he'll piss in my bed again, or worse!"

He grabbed Sandra by the arm.

"Heh heh. You're comin' too, aren't you?"

She batted her eyelashes, swooning at his gangly touch.

"Anything for you... George."

He drug her along, then also grabbed you, which you complied. Of course you wouldn't get George in trouble, he was your favorite.

Slamming the flat's front door behind him, George let out a sigh of relief, seeing the tell-tale overpowering stench of Mersean cunt didn't permeate the flat (besides the inevitable lingering imbedded deep into the walls) meaning that Paul had not yet returned.

"Oh good." he said, wringing his bony hands. "It's not that I'm scared of Macca. It's just that he's so very unpredictable. He'll smile to your face, then later, much later, even after you've forgotten the conflict, you'll find a dead frog staked to your bedpost."

"Well, it was nice hangin' with you, lass." George said. "But I shouldn't be seen with ya when Macca comes home. And to that, you'd do well to return to your crate, as if you hadn't left. See ya, then."

You waved goodbye to the pair, taking his advice into account. It was nice making his acquaintance. Suppose not all of these horrid group members were bad.

You sighed, taking off your beatle brand trainers. You took the stairs, heading toward the room Paul left you in.

Walking down the corridor, your hair stood on end, you heard a noise. Was it a mouse? You didn't know anyone else was in.