Ringo snapped a picture of Paul curled up on the sofa clutching a cup of tea to his chest, eyes heavy-lidded and vacant. He glanced up at Ringo with an irritated warning look. Ringo manuevered off to the side and proceeded to take another shot as Paul carefully set his cup on the side table, rose, and tackled him.
"Ah, me camera!" Ringo yelled as it tangled about his neck. Paul deftly removed it and tossed it on the couch.
"Boys," Brian warned as he watched them from his paper-strewn desk in the corner, "Someone could get hurt."
George appeared at the doorway of his bedroom to see what the noise was about. Ringo and Paul circled each other warily, each waiting for an opportunity. Then George said, "I don't think you're going to win, Ring."
Paul looked over at George with a smirk and this gave Ringo the chance he needed. He launched himself at Paul's legs and knocked him completely off balance. Unfortunately, his momentum carried them both down toward the heavy oak coffee table. George winced as Paul's head met the corner of the table with an audible thump. Alarmed, Brian jumped up and ran to the twisted pair on the floor.
Ringo looked up at him sheepishly. "Whoops, we're ok, Eppy," he said, extricating himself from Paul's legs. "Right, Paulie?"
"Don't think so, Richie," George answered, "You knocked him out cold!"
"What?" Ringo turned back to Paul who lay unmoving on his left side. "Oh no!"
"He bashed his head on the table," George said.
"Oh God," Brian wrung his hands, "What if he's really hurt?"
"What's all the noise?" John emerged from the bath with a magazine in hand. ""Oh, I see."
Ringo carefully tipped Paul over on his back. His eyes were shut, a deep indent on his left temple already swelling, his eye blackening. "Paul, Paulie, can you hear me?" Ringo patted him gently on the cheek.
John came back in with a glass of water. "Here, this'll revive him." and proceeded to pour the water over Paul's face.
"Oh, aye, that's not too kind," George commented, eyebrows raised.
The water plastered Paul's hair and dripped from his chin, but he didn't stir. Ringo wiped at the water angrily. "You sod, John, that was soft!"
John stood looking rahter surprised. "I thought he was putting us on," he said, "But he's knocked out like, isn't he?"
Brian paced up and down the room, stopping now and then to glance at Paul on the floor with Ringo beside him. Then Neil and Mal came in and took in the scene. Neil turned to Mal. "Right, see if they have a first-aid kit downstairs in the lobby."
He walked to Paul and turned his head to the side to take a look. "Get some ice please, George. Ringo, help me get him up on the sofa."
Together they lifted Paul's inert body to the couch and Neil applied the ice to Paul's temple. Ringo loosened his collar and looked utterly miserable.
Mal came back with a small white kit. Neil fished out the ammonia capsule, cracked it open, and held it under Paul's nose. At first there was no reaction. Then Paul's eyelashes quivered and he began moving his head from side to side to escape the fumes. He groaned.
"Come on, Paul, wake up," Neil encouraged. John stood near Neil, biting his thumbnail nervously.
Paul let out a sigh and groggily opened his eyes. "Get away with that," he muttered, swatting Neil's hand away from his face. "It reeks."
He briefly lifted his head and let it fall back against the cushions. "The room is spinning," he said faintly, closing his eyes again.
"Paul, man, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry about this," Ringo babbled.
"Aye, Ringo? What are you on about?" Paul said with closed eyes.
"Don't you remember what just happened?" Ringo asked.
"What, you hit me with one of your bloody drumsticks? No, I don't remember. And why is my hair wet?"
John snorted. "He's got amnesia."
"Don't be daft," Paul snapped, wincing as he felt his head. "I still know who you are...unfortunately," he added. John barked out a laugh and settled into a chair.
"Are you really all right, Paul?" Brian asked anxiously, hovering over the sofa.
Paul peered up at him questioningly. "Who are you, then?" he asked.
Brian froze and gaped at him. Everyone paused in amazement to look at Paul. "But I...well...I...uh..." Brian stuttered.
Paul burst out laughing, trying to stop as the pain lanced through his head, but unable to contain himself.
"Oh you...you bugger!" Brian managed to splutter as the others laughed.
"Oh God, get me some aspirin or something. My head's going to burst," Paul moaned, still giggling and grimacing at the same time.
"Feel like a hangover, does it?" John asked.
"Twenty times worse," Paul muttered. The delicate skin around his eye was starting to blacken.
"Here, Paul," Neil handed him some tablets from the medical kit with a glass of water. "Keep that ice to your eye," he ordered.
"Thanks, Nell." Paul gulped the tabs and gingerly held the ice to his temple.
After a bit, Ringo said, "Let's have a look." He peeked under the cloth and groaned, "I'm sorry, Paul."
"What, am I losing vital fluids?" Paul questioned.
"Naw, you give those out frequently every night," John cracked from behind his paper. George made a sound of disgust and shook his head with a grin.
"Ha," Paul returned, shutting his eyes. "It's ok, Ring, just an accident, aye?" He slid open one eye to look at Ringo.
"Well, of course, I'd never be able to thrash you intentionally."
"Right. Neil, what were those pills you gave me?" Paul asked.
"Why?" Neil looked up from the desk where he was talking with Brian.
"I'm starting to feel a bit out of it all of a sudden," he mumbled.
Neil rummaged through the wastecan and read the wrappers from the tablets. He glanced at Brian. "Oops. Painkillers, may cause extreme drowsiness."
"Oh no! They've got a show to do tonight!" Brian exclaimed. "Oh, this is dreadful."
"Paul doesn't seem to mind," George pointed out.
Paul lay limply, his hand dropped from the ice bag and hung over the side of the sofa. His head fell to one side, chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths.
"Let him be for a bit," John suggested. "It may wear off in time."
"Yeah, but look at his eye." George said. "It's all puffy and black and blue."
"Aye, well, we'll just tell them he was got by a cigarette lighter or something at the last gig," John grinned.
