Paul's demise.

Time: 5am.
Date: Wednesday, April 13th, 1966.
Place: Prince's Parade, Liverpool.

"John, why don't we do it in the road?" asked Yoko Ono.

"Darlin', someone would see us. But if you're talking about doing IT, sure."

It's surely a challenge to get a firm to move a piano all the way from Abbey Road to the Mersey docks with no questions asked. Especially if you're John Lennon. Buying the rope wasn't going to be easy either, but then the idea came; get Ringo to do it.

As they stood on the quays of the River Mersey they undressed Paul's body and tied his mickey to the Yamaha piano.

"Let me take you down, Paul, 'coz I'm I'm going to Strawberry Beds in Dublin to hide out for a while. Christ, you know it ain't easy, Paul, having you dead and all. If only you hadn't wanted to leave the group and become a paperback writer. We were going to make it through it, but you had your dreams of writing complete shite for people to read while they take their stupid holidays back to the U.S.S.R.! You were perverted, diverted! I thought we were in the same tree, but no-one I think is in my tree anymore."

As he lowered the piano (Paul following as his mickey was firmly tied onto the piano's leg) into the river the remaining Beatles sang "A Day in the Life".

John then sang "All You Need Is Love" while Yoko ran around in circles, pulling stupid faces and shouting "NUMBER NINE" over and over again.

"Hey, bitch, you know if you said that backwards it would sound like you were saying 'turn me on, dead man'" said Ringo.

"Ooooooh, spooky!" said all involved at once.

"Hey, I've got an idea," said George, "....let's get a curry!"

"Oh, what a fabulous idea. I know a great place on Lime Street," followed Ringo. "Is he away from detection yet, John?"

"I can't even see the piano. They'll never find him unless they follow the secret clues that I plan on leaving on our next album. I want to call it "Let's Kill Our Bassist" or something to that effect anyway."

"Subtle," said George.

"Wakka wakka, baboo!" mumbled Yoko.

And so Macca was no more. He was brutally murdered by the other Beatles and dumped in the Mersey. God love him. Secret interviews were held in Paul's parents' house and a replacement was soon found. Unfortunately it fooled nobody and in 1970 it was too ridiculous to continue and the band split due to "internal problems". But everyone knew it was just because Eamon Dunphy couldn't sing.