Dungeons and Beatles

Chapter One: The Battle

It was yet another rainy and miserable day in England. The Beatles had just released their brand new album, Rubber Soul, and were given a very rare day of rest. While Ringo and George were out spending it on their own, John and Paul were cooped up in John's house, bored to death, simply observing the rain droplets splashing on the ground.

The awkward silence was too much for John, who was completely zoned out watching something on TV.

"This is boring. We need to do something, Paul! Just imagine what George and Ringo are doing! They're probably having fun somewhere! While we are stuck here doing absolutely nothing!"

Paul sighed. "Well, what can we do? Believe me, I feel the same. I'd like to go out, but the rain is steady, and I didn't bring an umbrella."

John stands up from the couch. "Would it be weird if we shared one? You know, just for a little while to find somewhere to go?"

Paul's eyes widened. "Yes, John, that would be very weird. But it looks like I don't have much of a choice, so fine."

And so, the two walk around in Liverpool, nowhere intriguing them, until a rather large building had their eyes glued to it.

Without hesitation, the two entered this strange attraction to see that it was simply a bar.

Or was it?

This bar had an arena in its basement, made for events like jousting, fencing, and much more.

"Hey, Paul, look at this!" John calls to Paul, who was busy talking to a girl.

Paul walks over and the two observe the current event like two curious five year olds.

"Interesting, isn't it, Macca?" John was very enthused by the situation, Paul not so much.

An announcer steps up to the microphone after the two jousters exit the arena.

"That was fun, wasn't it? Now, we ask that two more audience members participate in our next game: a battle!"

John and Paul had snuck into the arena without tickets.

"We should do it, Paul!"

"Are you crazy?! We'll get killed—"

"We'll do it!" John volunteers without listening to a word Paul says.

As they walk down the long and winding staircase to the middle of the arena, beads of sweat form on Paul's forehead.

"John, this is not a good idea..."

"Quit your worrying, Macca. We'll be fine. We can defend ourselves."

Paul groaned as they were perched on horses that ran to the back.

"Paul, do you know how to ride a horse?" John asked, worried.

Paul smirked. "Actually, yes. Maybe you weren't wrong about this battle."

"Country dreamer..." John mumbled.

Paul rode valiantly to their competitor, while John sat fearfully in the back, not moving at all.

"I'd like a little help here!" Paul calls as he continues to rush towards the enemy.

"How do I ride this thing?" John whines, accidentally dashing to Paul.

"Figure it out."

Unfortunately, this wasn't this person's first rodeo. Even with Paul's skillful horse riding abilities, he was knocked to the side.

"Paul!" John cries. "Alright, now you've done it. You can mess with me, but you mess with me best friend and you're dead-wait- I just said that out loud, didn't I..."

As embarrassed as John was to admit it, John would save Paul in times of trouble. He managed one single hit on the guy, but just entered the same boat as his best friend.

The two could faintly hear the crowd chanting the same frightening phrase: "End them! End them!"

They looked at each other in fear. "End them? Do you know who we are?" John began to say, until the pair were airborne and the last noises they heard was the faint echo of the crowd cheering.