Magical Mystery Murder-6

Magical Mystery Murder

Author: Aurorita248
Rating: T
Warnings: 'Dark Side' of movie, slash and slight bits of alcohol (Might be other stuff not mentioned here)
Summary: Anyone would never suspect 'Magical Mystery Tour' to make any sense! However...what if it was trying to hide something that happened? What if they were just giving us the light, fluffy and sugary crusty side of this slice of pie? What if there was a darker, bitter, truth that NO ONE wanted to explain? The Beatles take it as their duty to figure out what REALLY went behind the scenes of Magical Mystery Tour and what dark secrets were kept inside.
Note: This story was inspired by the movie 'Magical Mystery Tour' and all rights belong to Apple Corp. This is a story that takes place to 'A Hard Day's Fight', but can be read as its own separate piece.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Chapter 6-Magical Mystery Way

Just as things on the tour couldn't get any stranger, the bus stopped in the middle of a hunting field. Hunters with their muskets and dogs just stared in wonder at the parade of tourists following Jimmy Winters into the tent. The tall grass fell to the footsteps as they sung in chorus.

"There's no business, like show business, like no business I know." John sang. "Everything about it's all appealing; everything the traffic will allow..."

The parade soon saw the tent. Ringo was the first to look at it oddly.

It seems a bit strange for a tent in this area. He told the others.

Maybe it's one of those cool places where it's bigger in the outside! George noted. I like those kinds of places!

Of course you would, child. John noted. But we love you either way.

Ringo entered the tent, crawling on all fours, amazed to see how spacious it was! It held rows of chairs, a film projector and a movie screen to fit everyone in it!

"Ta-dah!" Jimmy Johnson cried, appearing in front of the befuddled tourists. "Everyone have a seat!"

He ushered everyone to take their seats, a sea of murmurs and excited whispers bouncing off the tent. George sighed as he saw the whole area. It was complete boredom.

Ooh! Ice Cream!  said Ringo, seeing Miss Winters with a tray of ice cream in hand. Yay!

George just chuckled as he was soon given a cup of vanilla ice cream. The lights began to dim and the projector soon showed a cavern shrouded in mist. A figure sat down upon the rocky floor, showing a hermit dressed in jeans, an orange jacket and green shirt. The sound of an organ was heard and the fog lifted, revealing the face of the hermit. It had George's face.

Okay, that's kinda creepy.... Thought the guitarist. Well not entirely creepy...I mean, it's not like the film is gonna do something bad...and that this ice cream is a...sedative....

George placed the ice cream onto the floor and looked around. Everyone was eating the ice cream—mostly because they didn't stop for lunch like they were supposed to—and observing the scene. Soon, the lips of the hermit opened, and he began to sing. His hands played on some sort of weird organ, the long fingertips pressed upon piece of metal, as if they were keys to a piano or organ.

There's a fog upon LA...
And my friends have lost their way...
We'll be over soon they said...
Now they've lost themselves instead...

George felt a migraine crawling over his body. Something was pulling him, tugging him, stretching him...his whole body couldn't take the pain...the fog was closing is in on his mind. His eyes were shrouded by a cold chill as his body collapsed onto the ground.

Please don't be long...
Please don't be very long...
Please don't be long...
Or I may be asleep...

0 0 0 0 0 0 0

"George, George!"

"Georgie, over here!"

"Come on, Harrison!"

George moaned and slowly opened his eyes. The sky was a bright blue, but at the same time, everything was blue. The trees, the grass, the table, Paul, Ringo, John…

Wait, what was that?!

"George, pass us the ball!" cried Ringo.

"Over here!" said Paul.

George looked left and right, trying to make sense of what was going on. Did someone spike the ice cream? Is that why he was here?!

He heard the voice of the hermit echo throughout the sky; no one else heard it. It sounded eerie and vibrrated through the leaves, the wind, the grass...it echoed and trembled something fierce.

Well it only goes to show...
and I told them where to go...
Ask a policeman on the street
There's so many there to meet...

George turned his head, hearing the sounds of a cello. There was John, playing the cello all happy and care-free. Next to him was a table all set up for a tea party for four. Clearly this was the work of something else.

"I have to get out of here," He said. "But how?"

"You can't get out of here." said John. "Why would you want to? You can live forever!"

George turned to John, who stopped playing the cello. There was silence as the echoing voice of the hermit was heard once more.

Please don't be long...
Please don't you be very long...
Please don't be long...
Or I may be asleep....

"What do you mean I can't escape?" asked George. "Of course I can leave."

"You can't," said Paul. "We're stuck here forever. We are forever and we never grow old."

"You sure act like a kid."

"We speak the truth." said Ringo. "We live here....in peace."

"What do crazy guys like you do in a place like this?"

"We play and have music and light fireworks." said the second George. "It's always fun as a Projector."

"Huh?"

"We project onto walls, floors and film." Projector John replied with a smile. "We live forever and ever."

"That's you, not me." said George. "Now tell me the truth."

He pulled out his gun and pointed it toward the Projectors.

"That's not gonna save you..." Projector Paul taunted.

George snarled and fired a few rounds at the foreheads of the Projectors; they only bounced off their foreheads and fell onto the blue grass.

"We told you..." said Projector George.. "We can't die..."

"We live forever and ever..." said Projector John.

"Just stay here and live a happy life without worry..." said Projector Ringo. "Isn't that great?"

"No!" said the real George. "I have to get out of here!!"

Now it's past my bed I know...
And I'd really like to go...
Soon will be the break of day...
Sitting here in Blue Jay Way...

George snarled at the echoing voice of the hermit; he really wanted to get out of here.

"I'm getting out." He stated. "No one is gonna stop me."

"Really then?" asked Projector George. "What can you do? There's nothing here for you to get out!!"

"Damn it..." George cursed. "Well...I guess I should just stay and make myself comfortable."

He dropped the gun and slumped over to the table of firecrackers and sparklers.

"What are these for?" asked the Beatle guitarist.

"We just light them off the end of the day." said Projector John. "Light some if you want."

George stared at the fireworks and pulled out his cigarette lighter. Licking the light on, the small flame burned through a wick.

"See?" asked Projector Ringo. "These can be fun if you want them to be."

The sparklers sparked with yellow lights, showing their beauty and majesty in front of George.

"They're not bad." He said. "I have a better one though."

George pulled out a bottle from beneath his jocket. With his lighter, another flame emerged to eat a wick once more. Then he set it near the table.

"What was that?" asked Projector John.

"My way out." said George.

Then, there was a giant explosion. George felt himself be pushed out o the film. His body was crushed by an unknown amount of pressure while he could only grunt and grit his teeth in pain. The blues were becoming lighter, becoming camoflaged in the darkness. His eyes were clouded with a mist, but he could hear a voice.

Please don't be long...
Please don't you be very long...
Please don't be long...
Or I may be asleep...

The hermit continued to play his song, echoing that last line 'Please don't be long' over and over again. The hermit didn't see George in the misty cave, but that was good.

George pulled out another gun, a rifle with a lion charm on it. He loaded it with a few bullets, creeping toward the hermit.

"Not so fast!"

George was pushed rather roughly onto one of the cavern's walls. He saw the Projection of himself pinning him with his bare hands.

"You're gonna stay here with us forever!" screamed Projector George. "We won't let you leave!"

"I'm leaving." said George, pulling out his gun. "Now leave!"

With a boom, a bullet penetrated Projector George's brain. It was lodged in his forehead, but it didn't hinder him.

"We can't die." Projector George grinned.

"I noted." George murmured darting his eyes back and forth. He saw something from the back of the cave. It was a fog machine that covered a film projector; this whole thing was just a bunch of smoke and mirrors itself!

"You're gonna stay here forever!" said Projector George.

"I'm gonna stay within 500 feet of hearing distance." George noted, pointing his two guns. They were white with golden accents, but one had a lion charm and the other a unicorn. "I'd have something funny to say, but I'm on a time limit. Oh well."

He pulled the triggers and bullets flew from the muzzles. They flew past Projector George.

"Ha! That did NOTHING!" said Projector George.

"...Really? Then why are those stalactites about to fall on that projector?"

There was the sound of rumbling as the stalactites cracked and crumbled. It fell and landed on the fog machine and projector just as George was lighting another bottle.

"How doth the little crocodile...did something or other." He said. "Ah well..."

"NO!"

George tossed the vodka bottle without efford, and soon felt the explosion. That force that pushed him out of the blue screen appeared and he was surrounded by white light.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0

"George, George wake up! George!"

George sputtered and blinked his eyes. He looked around, seeing people cheering for...something. For whatever it was, he was gone now.

"What is it John?" He murmured.

"You missed a kick-ass show, that's what!" said John.

"Really?" George yawned. "Didn't notice."

"Oh it was better when you weren't stuffing yourself with ice cream."

"I didn't even touch that stupid thing."

George stood up and stretched his legs. Everything was back to normal, but something felt eerily strange."

"Oh, there you two are." said Paul, not closebye. "Ringo's closeby, something involving apples."

"We won't be doing much if we stand." said John. "Let's get out and finally go home."

George nodded as he began to follow the crowd. As he was about to step out, something nudged his foot; it was a vodka bottle.

"What the..." He said.

"Hey, Harrison." said John. "Were you drinking again?"

"You know I only drink tea and martinis!" George exclaimed.

"Riiight..."

As the Beatles started to walk out, George stared at the vodka bottle with confusion. He picked it up and stared at it. It looked liked the same bottle he threw at the projector.

"I....wasn't dreaming this...was I?" He asked himself.

"GEORGE!"

"Coming!"

George stuffed the bottle back into his jean jacket and walked out of the tent; right now, the last thing he wanted to think about was whether he was drinking at least five types of vodkas in one.