The airport in Emma’s hometown was completely packed, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind as to who was coming there. Only one band could attract such a large, devoted crowd. Many of the girls there squealed and pushed mbele to be closer to the barrier, hoping to touch her beloved boys as they arrived.
It was a bright, sunny afternoon, and everyone could see the plane come in as it circled low in the sky, some girls even fancying they could see the boys waving through the windows. A great cheer rose from the crowd. The plane touched down, and four young lads with their hair wonderfully, rebelliously much too long, came down the steps, smiling and waving at the fans.
The mashabiki screamed, and waved, and pushed mbele harder than ever, trying to get just a little closer to the Beatles they loved so much. Hands reached out, longing to hold them. The crowd of girls surged forward. The police officers who had been ilitumwa to keep them away from the Beatles were overwhelmed. The Beatles turned and ran away.
Desperate, the girls followed. “Don’t go!”
“John! John, marry me!”
“I upendo you, George!”
“Paul, come back!”
Over on the sidelines, one girl didn’t bother to give chase. How was she supposed to win against all those other girls? No. Jenna Blanche had a better plan.
“Right, Butch,” she said, turning to the dog on the leash beside her. “Think wewe can get me a Beatle?”
Butch strained on his leash in answer, sensing the crowd’s excitement. Butch was a white dog with brown patches and had short hair and pointy ears. Jenna didn’t know what breed he was exactly – he was a mix of several different ones – but he was a very big dog. zaidi than big enough to bring a Beatle back.
Jenna unclipped Butch’s leash from his collar. “Go get him, Butch!” she cried, her almond-shaped green eyes glittering hungrily. “Bring me a Beatle.”
Butch took off. Keeping to the side of the fans, he easily overtook the crowd. Now, the Bealtes had been chased kwa girls many times before. That was nothing new to them. But they were not used to being chased kwa a big dog that might very well have been trying to attack them.
“Oh, no. Run for it!”
The Beatles put on a burst of speed, even as Butch parted the crowd (many of the mashabiki were frightened kwa the sight of this huge dog barreling at them). But they had already been running nearly as fast as they could. John, Paul, and George managed to keep ahead, but Ringo’s legs were shorter and he wasn’t quite fast enough....
Butch took a final leap mbele and his teeth latched into Ringo’s suit collar. Ringo cried out as the impact knocked him off his feet and he landed on the ground. Butch made a small growling noise that Ringo hoped didn’t mean he was about to attack him, and began to drag him backwards across the ground, towards his mistress.
Jenna was jumping up and down in excitement, black pigtails bouncing. “He’s got me Ringo! My favourite! Good boy, Butch!”
The other mashabiki had stopped running kwa this point and were watching the spectacle, not wanting to have a Beatle taken from them, but not sure what they could do to stop a big dog on a mission. Those who were closer to Jenna realized Butch was her dog, and were torn between admiration for her creative way of snagging a Beatle, and resentment that they hadn’t thought of it first.
The other Beatles, however, were not about to just stand there and let this happen to their Ringo. They made an about-face and rushed back the way they’d come, grabbing hold of Ringo’s legs and boldly tugging him away from the enormous dog. Upon seeing the rest of the band come back, the mashabiki decided there was no need to hang back, and surged mbele again. “We’ll help wewe get Ringo loose! Can I have a kiss if I do?” Unsettled kwa this crowd that was trying to stop him completing his mission, Butch let out a warning growl. Some of the mashabiki who were scared of mbwa stepped back, but most were emboldened kwa the fact that John, Paul, and George weren't frightened.
Somehow in all the confusion, there was a ripping noise, and Ringo broke free from Butch’s teeth, a large tear in his suit collar. The Beatles ran off, still holding on to Ringo. Everything was so sudden that it took a sekunde for the girls to realize what was happening and give chase, and kwa that time, the Beatles had leaped into their waiting car and sped off down the freeway.
“They could have at least stopped to say thank you,” one shabiki was heard through the crowd, and there were many murmurs of assent.
Jenna’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, no! He got away! What did he want to get away from me for?” She planted her hands on her hips and frowned. “Here, boy,” she added, and Butch bounded to her side, looking rather upset himself for having failed his mistress. “Heel, Butch,” Jenna said, making her way away from the nervous crowd. “Never mind. We’ll get him inayofuata time. wewe did good,” she added, scratching her dog behind the ears. “You got me my favourite.”
Butch’s tail wagged.
The Beatles’ car sped through the streets, towards the best hotel in the city, where the Beatles would be staying. “They’re getting zaidi creative all the time,” Paul remarked, smoothing his long black hair.
Ringo shuddered a little. “I’d rather they stayed predictable, then.”
“Ah, what fun would that be?” grinned John, adjusting Ringo’s ripped collar, alama in a half-playful, half-affectionate way, tucking it under his tie where it would be less noticeable.
Ringo frowned, blue eyes wide and indignant. “You think it’s fun, I’ll let the dog grab wewe inayofuata time, and wewe can see....”
“We’re here,” George cut them off, his calm gaze surveying the scene. “And it looks as though they haven’t found out where we’re staying yet.”
George was right. The hotel’s car park was completely empty. Normally this might have worried the Fab Four, but after their experience at the airport they didn’t mind having a quiet entrance.
The Beatles tumbled out of the car and ran about playfully in the car park. Their driver – not a regular one, but hired for the tour kwa their manager, Brian Epstein – got out and headed for the boot, to get the Beatles’ luggage.
“Finally!” cried a muffled, high-pitched voice, the dakika the boot was opened. “I thought I was going to suffocate in here. Am I too late? I – oh, I’m not! There they are!!!!”
There was a girl in the boot of the Beatles’ car.