I once had a girl....

It lives... kind of.

Thu, 02 Jun 2005 04:09:46 GMT

... at least the other three Beatles aren't vampire slayers.

Fri, 14 May 2004 21:45:02 GMT

Sometimes I really hate the Beatles-fiction world; this is one of those times. Yet, for some reason I’m not surprised. I mean, every damn fandom has some wacko that writes the characters out as vampires for no reason whatsoever, right? Right?!

This story is bad, folks. It’s like watching that one Mexican soap opera about vampires (wait, that show’s kind of cool), and in it one of the vampire/witch chicks is reading aloud a cheesy supermarket romance novel. That bad.

The Story: Cochineal
The ~~Author~~ Culprit: Molly from Mars
Full Name (plus titles if any): ~~Count~~ George Harrison
Hair Color (include adjectives): “The soft, dark hair which fell over his face in great abundance was long and lucious. It shone magnificently in the palest moonlight, and had the most divine feel of satin against the skin”
Eye Color (include adjectives): “The first thing you noticed about him were his dark eyes. No matter how he looked at you, the stare was so intense as to render you helpless. That was how the seductive charm of the vampire had manifested itself in him. Once you truly gazed into them you became absorbed by their rich mahogany colour, taking you deeper and deeper into them until you swooned with pleasure and became carried away into heavenly thoughts where only he existed.”
Wow.
Unusual Markings/Colorations: None. He’s absolutely perfect. Apparently. But if you ask me, I’m going to say he’s pale and skinny… uhhh… yeah. And a vampire George Harrison is pretty unusual…
Special Possessions (if any): A cape, a coffin, uhhh…. Bats. Whatever else vampires have.

Annoying Origin: The mind of a teenaged Beatle-author who has watch the various remakes of Dracula too many times.
Annoying Connections To Beatles: It’s George Harrison… but a vampire!!!!11!
Annoying Special Abilities: He’s a vampire.
Other Annoying Traits: “His body was tall and strong, yet painfully thin. The beautiful delicacy of it disguised the great preternatural strength it held. He carried himself beautifully, and in the times when he moved slow enough for you to see him, he was a pleasure to observe.”
Please include a small sample of the worst of this story: It’s a short chapter. And all of that chapter is just describing how beautiful vampire!George is. So… the worst of this story is the whole damn thing.
What makes this story ~~bad~~ good: There’s only one chapter. And the Sue hasn’t been introduced yet, so she can have a torrid vampy!!! ^^ love affair with Count George-ula.
Overall rating: Really... bad.

NOW HE DEAD FROM SUE!!111!

Tue, 30 Mar 2004 18:14:36 GMT

It’s the summer of 1967. July to be exact. The year of love, peace and casual sex.

It's also the year of Pattie Boyd bashing and Bob Dylan raping.

The Story: Pisces Fish
The ~~Author~~ Culprit: Nessa
Full Name (plus titles if any): “My name is Jacqueline Morrison. But, my friends and family all call me Jackie.” I will die a happier person if in the end she doesn’t turn out to be related to Jim. Seriously.
Hair Color (include adjectives): “My long blonde hair is teased quite big, it’s all the rage.”
Eye Color (include adjectives): Not mentioned, my bets are blue. No, wait, they’re probably azure, beryl, cerulean, cobalt, indigo, navy, royal, sapphire, teal, turquoise, or ultramarine
Unusual Markings/Colorations: none
Special Possessions (if any): none

Annoying Origin: The Bealtes ~~Sues and bad slash~~ section of soupfiction.net.
Annoying Connections To Beatles: She’s British. She lives in London. And yet she is a reporter for the New York Times, and she has to interview the Beatles.
Annoying Special Abilities: To perceive anyone who so much as looks at George Harrison as a slut and/or bitch. Except for her, of course.
Other Annoying Traits: Existing.

Please include a small sample of the worst of this story:

“Well, to answer you first nosy question, I am indeed going to the Beatles party. It’s to celebrate the release of the album and the success of it. But, I’m not there for pleasure, unfortunately. I have the job of interviewing all of the guys for some magazine. Should be interesting. And I knew that you could find the directions out for me from Tim because he works for Apple and he is your husband! So, ask him for me please.”

I’m taking it she’s only going because she assumes she has connections via her brother in law. Because, you would have assumed she’d know the day, time, and place if she had been invited.

Over the following days, I shop endlessly for the “perfect outfit” yet, the closest I can get to it is a mini skirt. Thank goodness I don’t need to wear a stuffy business suit!

Yes, because looking totally trashy is always better than looking totally professional.

I would love to ask them more personal questions and ask Paul to marry me, but that isn’t going to happen!

rotyiy9u078uijgkhjhs9y89up4tjhghkjg

My damn notebook with all those hellish interview questions. I quickly search for my car key on my key ring as I look at my watch. Ugh! I’m already 5 minutes late! Great first impression! Suddenly, the stupid key ring slips right out of my hand! I curse loudly; as if the keys can hear me, and get down on my hands and knees, look under the car and search frantically. They’re somewhere under the car. Suddenly, I hear a voice… I’m not quite sure who it’s talking to, but I turn around anyway.

“Do you need assistance with something miss?”
The man asks, approaching me.

Oh look, the Sue is presenting herself.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Martin. I’m Jackie Morrison. I’m going to be interviewing the Beatles for the New York Times.”

I’m surprised it wasn’t a cool magazine like the Rolling Stones. Because, you know, that’d just make her all the more cool. But… nooo… instead she’s doing it for the New York Times. Which doesn’t make sense to me, being that she’s supposedly British. But… I don’t know. Maybe someone from the UK could help here, do they publish the New York Times there?
“Okay, Mr- I mean… Ringo…”
I finally ask him all of the questions. I giggle as I take notice to what he’s wearing. The mustached- Ringo is wearing a blue, collared shirt with black, tight pants. Hippie! He notices my giggle.

“Are y’sure you’re a reporter? Most can y’know, compose themselves.” The totally hot drummer said, raising an eyebrow to look at me suspiciously.

“Oh, of course! Tee hee!” I say, before handing him my ID necklace. “See? I have an ID card!”

Ringo took the necklace from me, carefully slipping it off my neck. I literally creamed my panties as he skilled drummer’s hands brushed over my neck, holy cow! He inspected it carefully.

“Wait a bloomin’ minute!” He exclaimed, glaring up a me, “This isn’t a VIP pass! This is a buy one get one free coupon for Shake N Bake!”

(*cough* If only….)

“Mr.Harrison makes me sound so old. It’s George. Or Harri. Whatever floats your boat.”
He replies naturally.
I nod and chuckle.
Ringo says,

“Well, I think you two have it all under control. I’ll be leaving now. Ta luv.”

“Oh, thanks for the interview Ringo!”

Of course he leaves once George gets there.

He puts his arm around the back of the couch, where I’m sitting. I try not to freak out and/or hyperventilate. George leans towards me.

“So, how old are ya?”
He asks slowly.

“23.”

“Gear! Let me buy you a drink. You still have some time before you interview John.”

…

“Well, um, I might need your number, just so we can go over the answers together before you publish them.”
He whispers. John hears it.

“Ah! He wants to sleep with ya! Ya wanna bag a reporter, Georgie Porgie?!”
John yells.

George gets a frustrated look on his face.

“That’s not it! Sherrrup John!”
He says angrily.
John just laughs and sits back.

I can feel myself blush.

… *insert some intraweb chatty angry face*

“Sooo, how’s Pattie?”
I ask, trying to seem discreet.
Before George can answer, John yells,

“PATTIE?! PATTIE WHO?”

Our thoughts exactly.

One cliché I like in Beatles!Sue fics is how John always seems to have Sue!dar at some point. Hahahahaha.

“Pattie Boyd? My wife Pattie?”
George asks.
This time, before I can answer, John yells,

“No! Your sister’s husband!”

John’s comments continue to make this story likeable.

Jane asks. Patti, Cynthia, Maureen and I all agree. So, when Cynthia pushes the door open, my eyes sting, but it feels good to be breathing clean air again and to see the light of day.
We all sit down on a bench and talk for awhile. They our all very nice, especially Cynthia and Maureen. Patti and Jane are nice, but Patti is a bit stuck up, too big of an ego and Jane is really quiet.

But of course Patti is stuck up and egotistical! I bet Cynthia, Jane, and/or Maureen would be stuck up too if you liked their husbands/boyfriends. Digdfgjur8u4890jf

Then, George comes outside to us and says,

“Hey, Jackie, do you want me to show you around a little?”

I look up. Is George talking to me?!

“Sure! That would be great.”
I say, getting up.

“Gear! We’ll be back a little later, girls.”

George says, referring to Maureen, Cynthia, Jane and especially Patti. I can see Patti’s face twist, but she tries to keep her trademark, innocent smile. George grabs my hand and takes me to his car, and we are off.

Urge to spork… rising.

The first part of Chapter 4 simply annoys me. A 13 year old and a 14 year old girl approach the two, the automatically look at Jackie, and becomes Jealous. Ugh. It’s as if the author is manifesting her probably manifesting her jealousy towards Patti and Olivia into the Patti of this story and the two girls who are around her age.

“Bob Dylan! You don’t know who Bob Dylan is?!”
He asks- amazed.

“Oh! Of course I know who Bob Dylan is! Why?”

Nooooooooooo……!

“So?! So?! Bob Dylan! Like, the sexiest guy. Ever.”

This is the reverse of most Sues. Usually they’re Americans from the future who speak like they’re British and/or in the sixties. This one is British and speaks like she’s from California in the 1990s.

“What the hell was that? First you’re begging me not to talk to Bob, now you’re going on a DATE with him?!”

I weep for the end of Bob Dylan being a victim in a Sue fic as only a one time thing, the darkness of Sue author’s hearts, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called my sanity.

The rest of the date goes by fine, with George and Sherri loudly making out in the back booth. I try not to turn around and glare at them, but their moaning and groaning is getting a little too old, so when I turn around to tell them to shut up, I notice George looking at me, even though he’s making out with Sherri. At the speed of light, George shuts his eyes and puts more effort into making Sherrie squeal.
His hand moves up her incredibly short little skirt (if you could even call it that) and I wince. Ew.

Of course, it’s different when she wears a skirt.

Give me a break. What a little gold-digger groupie tart!!!

Of course… she isn’t. Which is funny, because George implies that she is only going out on the date with Bob because he’s famous.
What makes this story bad: First off, the way every female (besides Miss Jacqueline, of course) who even so much as even asks George for an autograph is portayed as a slutty bitch. Including Pattie. Then there’s the Sue itself. She’s supposed to be some cool reporter independent women and all of that, who is so totally not a fangrrl!!1!!!1 like everyone else. Then there is the fact that this is the second fic in The Beatles section to have poor Bob Dylan as the Sue’s twu wuv.

I would also like to note this 14 year old does Dhani Sues, too. Poor Beatles’ sons. I hope she doesn’t write one set in 1999 where she and Sean Lennon fall in love and Yuka is a total bitch slut whore lesbian x10!!!1!!!
Overall rating: Bad

Sun, 25 Jan 2004 08:29:23 GMT

Dead!Sue, a omg depressed cutter Stu!John… god damn it.

The Story: Cut *gag*
The ~~Author~~ Culprit: Caitline
Full Name (plus titles if any): Jillian Lennon/John Lennon
Hair Color (include adjectives): soft and beautiful/the same color as John’s.
Eye Color (include adjectives): I assume some nice and beautiful color/the same as John’s
Unusual Markings/Colorations: n/a
Special Possessions (if any): the balls of the John clone

Annoying Origin: After John and Cynthia got divorced, he apparently married this woman Jillian, who was pregnant with his second son Ross. What? Yoko and Sean who? But alas! She died in some boating accident.
Annoying Connections To Beatles: John’s wife/John’s angsty carbon copy
Annoying Special Abilities: Jillian changed John from an “asshole” to a gentleman…
Other Annoying Traits: the John clone is in the Beatles, and looks, acts, and plays like him… he was also married to Cynthia at some point.

Please include a small sample of the worst of this story: John sat in the bathtub. His fingers moved over the fine white surface of the skin on his wrist. It was so beautiful, what was underneath it, a blue river of blood. It reminded him of the ocean. Everything reminded him of the ocean these days. He hated the ocean. The ocean had taken his Jillian. Water had consumed her. Jillian was dead because of water. John was dead because of water.

It’s almost like bad poetry put into a Beatles fic.

Tears poured down his face, his hands running through his slick wet hair. "FUCK!!!!!" He screamed at the top of his lungs and reached for the razor. He hissed as he started at his upper arm, cutting it quickly. It felt like a paper cut, and though it hurt, it was on briefly. He moved down lower, a scarlet tear of blood rolling down his arm.

This time the cut was deeper and much more painful. He pressed hard on the cut and a few stray tears rolled down his cheek. His muscles clenched from the pain of it all.

omg my sol is dark
liek midnite at a park
w/the moons silvry reflekchin in teh river
liek a reflechin in the mir
liek my relkchin wich is dark
in the shatrd mir
which i us teh shards 2 cut my porslin skin
I hav sind
:C

Every girl in the audience looked like her. How can that be? He thought and began to break into a sobbing mess, falling to his knees. Everything got quiet, the crowd just stunned. Paul dropped his guitar and it made a loud "twang" sound as ran to his friend.

"John?! Mate? What's the matter!??!" John grabbed at his hair and pushed himself back in forth in a rocking motion.

"JILLIAN!!!!!" He screamed at the top of his lungs then felt two large arms pick him up and take him backstage. Why hadn't they made him feel beautiful? Paul hurried backstage also, his eyes wide with fear. The look on John's face…was…so hard to explain-so frightening. Brian knelt beside John and rubbed his back, desperately trying to calm John.
John couldn't speak, words trapped in his hot closed throat. His body trembled violently as he pictured her, dressed in that blue maternity dress she had been in on the day she died. They were discussing names for the baby that day, and where they wanted him to be born.

She had been so happy that day. Then she got on that boat….

At that thought he let out a loud wail… and fainted…sinking into darkness…

omg so deep!!11!

When John had met Jillian everyone had been so happy. He wasn’t such an asshole anymore. She humbled him, brought out his sweet side. John had been so gentle with her too. He never let her make dinner, or get up to get things. He did it for her. He loved her so much…

On the bright side…. She’s already dead.

John stared at the wall and rubbed the hotel comforter between his fingers. It reminded him of her hair, soft and beautiful. She had been so beautiful. He was about to cry again but stopped. What’s the point? Crying doesn’t end it.

omg adn that iz y jon cuts himself duh

He was neglecting his first son, too, Julian. He seemed to not care about him anymore. He didn’t even remember him at times; leaving him in the park one day all alone. The boy was only 2 years old! How could he forget him?

Despite this being somewhat true, I would like to point out that most Beatles forget their wives/girlfriends once the new Sue struts on in.

One of the most often forgotten wives is Yoko Ono. I like how this author doesn’t even provide us with an explanation as to why she isn’t in the picture…. After all, Yoko in her bathrobe was what Cynthia found after coming back from the vacation, which prompted the divorce… OH WAIT STUPID ME I 4GOT ALL CANON GOES AT THE WINDOW IN FANFIXXXINg!!!!1!

Paul left, leaving the door cracked. John began to cry again

o woe is me
I am as dark as can be
Like the majestic crow
Nobody knows
The trouble I’ve seen
Nobody knows
My sorrow… :C
What makes this story bad: Like I said, it’s like bad depressing poetry turned into a Beatles fanfiction. Not to mentioned John is a sissy depressed cutter boi :C
Overall rating: Bad
At least the Sue is already dead.

Fri, 23 Jan 2004 23:48:47 GMT

Omg I luv teh gawth/emo/whatever headcase sues!!!!!!111!!1

The Story: The Doll
The ~~Author~~ Culprit: Heavy Blues
Full Name (plus titles if any): Elizabeth Frost (“Frost” is so gawth… hey that rhymes!)
Hair Color (include adjectives): “… hair shining like strawberry gold…” What the fuck?
Eye Color (include adjectives): Cerulean blue
Unusual Markings/Colorations: She’s “Skeletal” and bedraggled”
Special Possessions (if any): Pills. Lots of pills to counter the effects of pills the effect of pills. Confused?

Annoying Origin: A street corner, smoking.
Annoying Connections To Beatles: Gets willingly raped by druggy rapist Paul, and then becomes his pill-popping “crazy” angsty masochist twu wuv with an eating disorder… probably
Annoying Special Abilities: “Beautiful. Young. Innocent. Pure.” Gag.
Other Annoying Traits: Liking rape. Being confusing.

Please include a small sample of the worst of this story: They were both angry.

She lit a cigarette. The light from the street light flooded her. Her hair shining like strawberry gold. Her cerulean eyes peaking out from beneath the heavy fringe. Hand shook the match. Keep still. Fucking pills. Made you shake. Damn them. Were there pills that could control the side effects of the pills that were supposed to control the side effects of the real pills? Maybe.

so dark and emo!!!!!!!!!11111 I bet she lisins 2 dashbord confesinal *gglz*

Narrow your eyes “Do you think we’re going to have sex then?”

He raises his eyebrows. Smile, cruel. Unkind. Not nice. Still pretty though. Pleasant pain.

He sets the bottle on the marble counter. He grabs her wrist. Painfulpainfulpainful. Wrist is small. Too small. Small enough for him to break without meaning too.

Pulls you close, his hands find your body and move up it ravishingly. Roughly. Bad. Good. Oh. It’s nice. Pretend it hurts. Moan. “No” don’t do it. “Don’t hurt me”

Pulls you closer, slams you into the counter. “Shut up”

Fear. Good fear. Pleasant fear. You like this fear. He likes it. He can sense it. It’s good.

dgfhjufihjufiohyr

the whole second chapter is confusing so after the second paragraph I gave up on it and just skimmed through

But then she’d also swallowed a pharmacy of drugs too… Dexedrine had been one of the pills. It resulted in paranoia when taken to the level she had been taking it lately. Perhaps she could cut back.

omg pill popping is so kewlies all of the dark souls at my skool do it

She climbed the steps to her four story home. It was nice. Not the sort of thing you’d think someone like her would own.

By that, we mean, a drugged up mod that had no job or education past 15. She didn’t need it. Mummy and Daddy left her with a bit of money and the huge townhouse in Knightsbridge. But they were dead. And she had money. And she was board. So she started with the pills.

omg so dark and deep!!!11! I pity her troubled angry self

She curled up into a tiny ball. Her legs weren’t as sore anymore. The hot water helped a lot. She washed her hair and scrubbed her body.

Did she want to scrub away the smell of a Beatle? She lifted her arm to her nose and smelled, getting water up her nostrils. She giggled, an unnatural song coming out of this skeletal bedraggled girl.

omg if she went 2 sum lj community for troubled skinny hawt gawths she’d be accpetd bi evry1! *gglz*
What makes this story bad: This story wasn’t so bad. Actually, I thought the writing style was kind of original… not like writing in the first person in Beatles Sue fics are original, but she kind of made it… uhhh… well… she combined first, second, and third person and it was kind of neat… if not fucking confusing half of the time.

What really got me about this story was the Sue herself. She’s like…. A jthmsues Sue put into the sixties.

I really can’t stand the DARK AND TORTURED SOUL SUE…. Which made this story bad. I mean, if she wasn’t so dark and troubled, maybe she’d be a good sue. *gasp*

But no… her flaw couldn’t be something realistic like being a little chubby or wearing glasses because she had to be absolutely perfect on the outside.

Her “flaw” is being a sadomasochistic pill-popping anorexic GAWTH stereotype. With dead parents.

Gah.
Overall rating: could be worse...
It was, for the most part, historically accurate. It had a somewhat interesting… plot, I guess. But the Sue needs major work, and the second chapter is fucking confusing.

... life goes on within you and without you....

Wed, 21 Jan 2004 06:43:35 GMT

This is not such a bad Mary sue, but it's a bad ernough fic that it needs to be put up.

The Story: It/’s All Too Much
The ~~Author~~ Culprit: Beatle Babe
Full Name (plus titles if any): James Paul McCartney
Hair Color (include adjectives): Brown
Eye Color (include adjectives): Hazel
Unusual Markings/Colorations: Looks just like Paul
Special Possessions (if any): A baby in his tummy

Annoying Origin: The mind of a 14-year old girl
Annoying Connections To Beatles: He pretends to be Paul
Annoying Special Abilities: The ability to carry a baby?
Other Annoying Traits: The ability to have a baby at lightspeed and the personality of a whiny preteen girl who got knocked up.

Please include a small sample of the worst of this story: “Oh…Paul…do it more…MORE…HARDER! FASTER! PAUL!! OH PAUL!!” I moaned and gasped as Paul thrust deeply inside of me. We breathed heavily as we rocked rhythmically back and forth together on the bed. Then I started to get this strange feeling as Paul caressed my breasts and he slid his tongue into my mouth. A feeling almost like I was coming into him, even though I knew that that was impossible. Right before he came, he pulled out, because we didn’t want (or need) me to get pregnant.

What a great way to start a story.

“Okay,” he said weakly. There were tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “I haven’t thrown up in years,” he moaned as he broke into tears.

“Oh honey, it’s alright, you’re going to be fine…it’s probably just a virus, or something…” I said, trying to comfort him.

I went into the kitchen and poured some ginger-ale and wet down a washrag with cold water, and walked back with them to him.

When I returned to the bathroom, Paul had himself propped up against the wall, and he was EXTREMELY pale. I helped him lie down on the floor, put the washcloth to his forehead, and propped up his head with a big fluffy pillow. He was panting, out of breath. I guided the glass to his mouth since he was too shaky to hold it on his own. Shortly after he finished it, he passed out.

“Paul? PAUL?!? Speak to me!!!” After a few minutes, his eyes slowly began to open, and he got sick again…except this time, it was on himself.

“Oh Paul…” I said as he kept getting sick all over everything. “I’m making you a doctor’s appointment. I’ll be back…” I said to him as I headed into the living room for the phone.

I called his doctor, and he said that he could see him…but it’d be about a week before until then.

So a week passed, and Paul’s condition was about the same…if not worse! He seemed to be sicker in the mornings than any other time of day or night.

omg I’m actually surprised she didn’t mention craving strange foods. But… HELP PAUL HAS BEEN REPLACED BY A WHINEY ELEVEN YEAR OLD!!!!!1!!

Mrs. McCartney?” he asked.

“Actually no, we’re not exactly married…”

“Oh. Well, your boyfriend here, um, well it’s hard to explain. I examined him thoroughly, and I couldn’t find anything wrong with him. Then he said that you two had sex the other night, and just on a lark, I ran several more tests on him, and it turns out that the fertilization process worked backwards…” Then he brought out a diagram of the female and the male reproductive systems. “You see, your egg traveled out of you and into his penis, where it probably mixed with his sperm right about here. Then it kept going up, and apparently it somehow made it’s way into his abdominal cavity and is implanted somewhere in there. Which, would basically mean in plain English, Paul is indeed pregnant.”

“WHAT?!?”

“Yes, yes, I know that it’s hard to believe. I mean, I’ve never even heard of this happening before!”

Paul broke down and started crying. I held him close to me in my arms in an attempt to calm and comfort him. It didn’t seem to help him much though.

“Now, Paul will need to be EXTREMELY careful or the baby could crush his internal organs. He doesn’t have a uterus like a woman, so the baby is pretty much just in there, except it has implanted itself against the side of one of his organs…it’s too small to see now, but when it’s big enough to see in an ultra-sound, I will check to see if it is a danger to his health. If it is, then we will have to remove it surgically.”

Paul shuddered at the sheer thought of needing surgery. “Um…how am I going to give birth? Push it out my dick?”

“No no no, it’s nothing like that. Since you don’t have the same parts as a woman, it wouldn’t exactly be a Cesarean section, but we’ll still have to cut through your abdominal wall, take the baby out, and repair any damage done. It would be a major surgery, yes, but whatever happens, it will have to be removed surgically.”

I swallowed hard, hoping that Paul would end up alright.

“There are many risks with your pregnancy, Mr. McCartney. Are you sure that you want to carry it to term?

“Doctor, I’m already pregnant, I want this baby now! You’re not going to take it away from me! This baby is a person too, just like you and me, except smaller. It deserves to live! To get a chance at life! I’ve always wanted to be a daddy; this is my chance. I’m not going to kill my own child!”

I could not believe that Paul didn’t want to just take that easy way out of this. If I were in his position, I know that I would!

When we got home, all Paul wanted to do was go to bed. I felt bad that he had to go through this. It was probably all my fault. I should have known something was wrong. Why did I HAVE to have shagged Paul THAT night??? I really wanted him to get an abortion. I didn’t want to risk losing him. But it was his body and his decision, and I just couldn’t change that.

Of course, he would want to keep a freak baby that would not only kill him, but probably not even live… why? BECAUSE PREGNANT SUES/STUS WILL ALWAYS KEEP THE BABY BECAUSE ABORTION IS EVIL!!!!!1!11 AND YOU KNOW THE PEOPLE THAT GET THEM PREGNANT WILL ALWAYS TAKE CARE OF THEM AND SUPPORT THEM EVEN THOUGH THEY’RE NOT NORMAL AND IN REALITY PROBABLY WOULDN’T GIVE A RATS ASS ABOUT THEM. OH WAIT…. CANON IS TOTALLY IRRELEVENT IN THE SUEVERSE… DUH.

laid down next to him on the bed and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his bare chest and stomach. I rested my hand on his stomach and I felt a small lump. It seemed a little high up to be the baby, but I called the doctor anyway, to put my mind at ease. He said that he could see Paul in a few hours, and he told me some things that I could do in the meantime to help ease the pain.

I went back to Paul, who was now doubled over in pain on the floor. He was screaming; ACTUALLY SCREAMING; because it hurt so badly.

“Paul, you might want to kill me for this, but get on the bed.”

“I CAN’T!!!” I sat on the edge of the bed, spread my legs so that one was on each side of him, put my hands underneath his armpits and pulled him up onto the bed (which was VERY difficult not only because of his weight, but also because of all the kicking and squirming he did). When I got him onto the bed, I looked at his face…he was in tears. I got a few pillows and put them under his bum so his pelvis would be elevated above the rest of his body. It didn’t help MUCH, but it got his screaming to dull down to a low whimper. I delicately caressed my fingertips over his bare chest, and I noticed an increasingly large bulge in his pants. My fingers traveled from his chest, over his stomach, and then to the zipper on his pants. I unzipped his fly and slid down his pants to around his ankles. I felt him through his boxers, and as I did so he reached up and pulled off my blouse. I carefully slid off his boxers as he unlatched my bra. I took both of my hands and slowly ran them up and down his penis. He was getting hard, so hard. As I was doing this, Paul was licking my breasts. I felt my skirt go now, and then my panties. Right before Paul was going to come, I took him in my mouth at the last second. His whole body tensed up, and I could feel that as he shot into my mouth, which I hungrily swallowed.

Is it just me, or does that make absolutely no sense? Those crazy 14-year olds and their sex scenes! ^,^

“Well, do you see that on the side of his stomach?” I nodded. “Well, now that it’s magnified, I can see that is the baby. Paul’s condition is progressing very rapidly; he’s only a few weeks pregnant, I know, but his pregnancy is at the equivalent of a woman who is 3 months pregnant!” I didn’t know what to think of this, much less what to say! I saw the baby on the screen alright, and I also saw the look of discomfort on Paul’s face. “The baby has attached itself to the side of Paul’s stomach. When the baby starts to kick, if it’s facing the wrong way, it could very easily put a hole right through his stomach which, if left untreated, will kill him.” I gulped hard.

“Is that what the lump on Paul’s belly is?” I asked curiously.

“No, not really.” Said the doctor. “It’s really just a tumor. I just told you he was pregnant to see your reaction. I mean… honestly, who would believe in some crock like ‘reverse fertilization’?” He laughed, and my head exploded. A Good laugh was had by all. Ringo, Paul, the doctor, even the nurses. The end.

If only it were that easy.

“Oh no you don’t! This is NOT happening! It can’t be! I must be having a bad dream, or something!!” he said as he started to cry.

Help. It’s invasion of the Sue!Bodysnatches!!! Ringo is now replaced by a teenage girl.

“Alright, well, it’s all very complicated, but you see instead of his sperm going inside of me, my egg went into his body, and it mixed with his semen and got up to his stomach somehow and implanted itself on the side of it. One wrong move and Paul could die. He’ll need surgery to get it out. After the surgery, Paul will need a few more weeks bed-rest, but then he can work with you guys again all that he wants.” Ringo had this weird look on his face, in between shock, fright, and disgust.

“So whose fault is it?”

“Excuse me? What did you just say?”

“Whose fault is it? Which one of you is fucked up and made this happen?”

“I don’t know…I could do you and if you get pregnant we’ll know it’s my fault.”

“NO! NO WAY!”

OM A BEATLE ACTUALLY DOESN’T WANT A SUE? I SIMPLY WON’T BELIEVE IT!

“I am hurt…you always used to want me…(sigh)”

I spoke too soon.

“NO!!!” I grabbed his arm hard, but he pulled away and headed towards the bathroom. I ran in front of him and blocked the doorway with my body. He shoved me out of his way and reached for the bottle of sleeping pills in the cabinet, but I pulled him out of the bathroom with all my strength, or at least right outside the doorway of it. He tried to push me out of the way again, but I brought my knee up hard into his –

“AAAHHH!!!” he screamed as he fell to the floor, holding his crotch. “What the bloody hell was that for?!?”

“Trying to knock some sense into you!! I did it for your own good!” Then he yelled some unmentionable obscenities at me in his Scouse accent so thick, you could barely make out what he was saying. I locked the bathroom door, took the key, and left him there on the floor in agony. Just then, a knock came on the door.

“Oh holy fuck,” I said under my breath. Whoever it was was going to see Paul on the floor and what I’d done to him.

“Paul, shut the bloody hell up! Somebody’s at the door!” I went to answer it, and it was a very nervous looking John.

Oh no, nobody can see domestic abuse on your pregnant spouse.

“What did you do to him???” he said as he rushed to Paul’s side.

“I kicked him in the pills.”

“How could you??”

“He’d be dead now if I hadn’t!!”

“Well get him some ice for it at least!”

“NO! He has to learn the hard way!” John tried to help sit him up, but he accidentally touched Paul’s stomach trying.

What a bitch.

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! That is THE stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! Guys don’t have babies! Didn’t your parents ever have this talk with you Jen?”

John always says the best things in Beatles!Sue stories. :)

“Paul, lay down on your back.” Well, he was already on his back, so I don’t know why I just said that. “Now spread your legs apart.” He did, and I put two or three pillows between them. “Now, press your legs together as tightly as you can, and keep them that way.” He did, and I rolled him onto his left side. “Just stay relaxed…that’s what’s important.”

“I feel so stupid doing this!”

“Just bear with me here, okay? You want to feel better, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well there you go!” I laid down next to him and kissed him passionately. I started at his sweet lips, down his neck, and down to his vast chest. While I started doing this, I slyly kicked the pillows away. I quickly tore away his shirt when I reached his collarbone. I kept going down, around his belly, and finally undid his pants. He was reaching around and stripping me at the same time. I got up and pushed him onto his back gently and started straddling his chest while reclining back against his stomach. Pretty comfy for my actually. He stuck his tongue deeply inside of me, and licked and licked and licked. I reached back behind me and started to stroke him, gently, just barely touching him, but I could feel that he was getting excited. I rolled over onto my stomach while still on top of him, spread his knees apart, then leaned down forward and started to massage his balls.

“Ooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh………….” Paul moaned. Just then, I heard a giggle coming from the doorway. The door was opened just a crack, but through it I could see John crouched down on the floor, watching us and he had his hand over his mouth, trying to hold back his laughter. I picked up a blanket and wrapped it around my body and walked over to the door and slammed it shut. Then I walked over to Paul, who had obviously noticed John there, and his face was a deep shade of maroon.

“Now, where were we?” I asked in my sexy voice.

“Oh, I’m not in the mood anymore…I’m sorry…”

“(sigh) It’s not your fault…get dressed…(sigh)” I threw my clothes back on quickly, as did he, and we went back out into the other room, feeling rather awkward. I gave John an evil glare as I passed by him.

Mpreg/Sue sex. Hot.

Paul got put into a wheelchair as soon as we arrived at the hospital and the other 3 were there already. I had to put on one of those weird surgeon outfits so I could go in, as did the others. Paul got brought into the operating room quickly. They took off all his clothes, and then they took this blanket that had a hole in the center of it cut out and put it over him. The hole was where his stomach went. One doctor took a needle and put it into Paul’s back, I guess to numb him. I assume that it was the epidural. Another doctor rubbed this red stuff onto Paul’s stomach, and I know for a fact it was some type of antiseptic. Then after a few minutes, the main doctor pressed on various points on Paul’s stomach asking if Paul could feel it, and Paul kept saying no, and then they were done with that. Me and the 3 boys had chairs to sit on since it would be a long operation and we didn’t have to stand up to watch it. I held Paul’s hand as they put the oxygen mask on him. The main doctor took the scalpel and made the initial cut, rather high up on Paul’s stomach if you ask me. There were all kinds of tools holding Paul open, and it looked like it had to hurt. They kept cutting, deeper, one layer at a time, and by the time they had reached where the baby was at, George had had to excuse himself because he was feeling ill. They removed the baby, and there was obviously SOME damage done to him, you could see it. He would die for sure if they left him the way he was.

“Paul, you just delivered a perfectly healthy baby girl.” the doctor said as he held her into Paul’s view.

“She’s so sweet…” Paul said, incredibly weakly. A nurse took her and brought her into the nursery to be cleaned up and run some tests on her. Then the doctor added a few more tools to hold him open even wider, and then he instructed me and the boys to step just outside the operating room door.

“There has been quite a bit of damage done to Paul’s body…he has a ruptured spleen, lacerations to the liver and large intestine, a puncture hole in his stomach, and some broken ribs. Paul may very well die from this. I thought that I should tell you this now. Now, you can stay for the rest of the surgery, or you can leave, since it’s going to be VERY long until it’s done. If you want to stay, great, and if you want to leave, go ahead, we can use the extra room. So who’s staying and who’s going?” We all looked at each other, and Ringo and George decided that they wanted to leave. So it would only be me and John that stayed with Paul. We were quickly ushered back into the operating room.

Yes. Please kill the Canon!Stu. At least then I’ll know how Paul really died and got replaced by William Campell.

Jennifer and Paul were married on March 12 of that year. When Linda turned 10, they told her the story of how she was born.

And she was traumatized and eventually hung herself from her bunkbed.
What makes this story bad: Everything. This is like… the goatse.cx of Beatles fanfiction. Dhfdughudhsioas I think every fic read after this one will be considered cheesecake. dfkgjufiohjfo
Overall rating: The Anna Burns rating of Horribleness

Sun, 18 Jan 2004 01:27:00 GMT

You know what, I think I’m going to follow Macca Beatles advice and write my own God damn story. IT WILL BE SO KEWLIES I WILL POST IT HERE WHEN I WRITE IT OK? ^_^

OH YEAH I HATE WIN SISTER SUES WITH A FIERY PASSION!!1!11111!1
The Story: ♥I Can’t Stop Loving You♥ (yes, the hearts are in the damn title)
The ~~Author~~ Culprit: Ringo Starrism
Full Name (plus titles if any): Maureen Rita Lennon/Rita Smith
Hair Color (include adjectives): “the same colour hair and eyes” being that she’s John Lennon’s twin sister.
Eye Color (include adjectives): Please see above.
Unusual Markings/Colorations: I’m assuming any unusual marking and/or coloration John Lennon has, being that she is—oh yeah! His twin sister!!!
Special Possessions (if any): Her first name, Maureen, and the fact that sheet gets with Ringo. A strange coincidence, if you ask me… but then again, with twin!Sues, everything is a strange coincidence, from how they found their twin, to how they end up getting with their twin’s friend/enemy to the fact that there name just happens to be the same as the friend’s/enemy/s actual wife/girlfriend! Oh my!

Annoying Origin: She’s John Lennon’s sister… twin sister. Somehow she knows this, but he doesn’t.
Annoying Connections To Beatles: She’s John Lennon’s twin sister
Annoying Special Abilities: Being John Lennon’s twin sister, I guess, getting Ringo in the sack, having the same first name as Ringo’s wife, having a middle name which the Sue author got from a Beatle song.
Other Annoying Traits: She’s JOHN LENNON’S TWIN SISTER!!1!!

Please include a small sample of the worst of this story: “Cathy. I’m going to my Auntie Mimi’s for a pack. I’ll be back.” ‘Oh, shit. I said Auntie Mimi…’

“Auntie Mimi?” she and John said together.

“Yes.” I got up and headed for the door. “Don’t worry, I won’t be long.” And with that I ran out the door but was stopped when John caught me and lifted me up. “Put me down!” I screamed. “Let me go you swine!” He took me back to the couch and sat me down.

“Ring,” he started, “Don’t let ‘er go.”

“Rita! I told you a million times—“Cathy rambled.

“Shut up, Cathy!” I screamed. “It’s none of your business. I clearly want nothing to do with him.” I looked at John, who said,

“I take it him means me?” I nodded. “Mind telling us something?”

“No.” my indignant remark made George, Paul, and Ringo laugh.

“Who’s ‘Auntie Mimi’, then?” he fumed.

“Like you don’t know, John. She’s our aunt. She’ll have a shit-fit if she finds out that we met.”

“Why is that?” he asked.

“We’re not supposed to know each other. We’re twins, John. Incase you haven’t noticed.” My sarcasm was at an all time high.

“Well, well, well,” He started. “Seems like we have the upper hand on that old bat now.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? She’s one of the best people I ever met! Unlike SOMEone! So whatever upper hand you may have you better stick it up your arse you ungrateful bastard!” I struggled to get away from Ringo, but he kept me on hold. The room fell into an utter silence until John slapped me across my face. Cathy screamed at him, while the others tackled him to the floor. I got up and ran to the door, but was quickly stopped by Paul, who grabbed my hand.

Oh my. I think slapping her in the face was the smartest thing any Beatle has ever done to any Sue, twin or not.

“I can’t believe you like that old bitch.” John spewed. Paul elbowed him in the ribs. “Alright, alright, mate,” he looked at me. “I’m sorry I slapped you, Rita.”

“But when the Beatles became successful and John was making a very good living he bought her a £25,000 bungalow in 1965 - Harbour View, 126 Panorama Road, Poole, Dorset. It was to be Mimi's home for the rest of her life.
John kept in close contact with Mimi and telephoned her every week from New York, often to reminisce about his childhood. Just three days before John was murdered he called Mimi to say he was homesick and planning a trip back to England soon. “ – taken from the Liverpool Lennon’s site.

Yup, it seems like John, really hates Mimi. Don’t you think? I mean, I know when I think somebody’s an “old bitch”, I’m going to buy them a house and telephone them every week.

“It’s alright, Maureen,” he gave me a brotherly hug. “I’m here to protect you now. I won’t let anything happen to you now. Don’t worry about a thing.” He kissed my cheek and smiled. “I had a feeling that I somehow knew you. You remind me of our mum. Sweet, pretty, and a free spirit. Don’t lose that, Mo.”

“I saw it happen, John.” I cried, remembering our mother’s death.

“Saw wot?”

“I saw the whole scene, everything. I saw Mum die!” I yelped as I sobbed. The door burst open.

Only after, of course, an hour at most after meeting her. Never mind the Beatles were big and probably everybody knew about John’s past… and, oh no… nobody is going to be suspicious of some chick just automatically claiming she’s John Lennon’s sister. Not in the BeatlesSueverse, any way.

“I went to Dad. I stayed for about a year, before I ran from there. God, John, I’m so sorry!” I cried a river of bitter tears on John’s shoulder.

“Did he hurt you? Did that bastard fucking hurt you?” Once again, all I could do was nod. “I’ll fucking kill ‘im,” John vowed a powerful curse to our father. “Please don’t cry. The worst—it—it’s over now, luv.”

Raped by father/boss/boyfriend… typical Sue…

“I love you, John.” I sniffled.

“I love you, too, Mo. Come’ ead, shall we go out to the main room?”

dgfdhgsiueiuerof I have a question… is “Mo” a common nickname/shortened version of Maureen?
“I don’t know. I guess I could tell you about a dream I had a few nights ago.”

“Please do.”

“Well,” I started, smiling. “It was about you. We were in a hotel room and we got to talking, and then we had some hot and heavy sex.” My body was wet and I was turned on at what I said; and it was a joke! From the corner of my eye I could see that Ringo was too! My blunt statement made him a happy camper. “But it was a dream, Richie. Like I said, I don’t kiss on a first date.”

“No, I give head! :D” I said as I got down on my knees and gave him the best damn oral sex evar!!1!!11

“Wot are yeh’s talkin’ about?” I asked looking at Ringo.

“You,” he said while John laughed. “How beautiful you are, how lovely and sweet you are. Just you.” He finished off staring into my eyes.

AND SHE SUDDENLY HAS A FUCKING LIVERPOOL ACCENT HOLY SHIT! I wouldn’t expect anything else from JOHN LENNON’S TWIN SISTER, of course.

“Paul asked me out.” I said, wanting to see his reaction. He looked at me and frowned.

“What did you say?” he sighed.

“I told him yes. But don’t take this the wrong way—“

“You told him yes? But I thought you loved me. I love you, Maureen.” His voice raised with every word spoken, making me feel lower than I already was. “I know we’ve just met but, damn, Mo!” he stood up. “I’m gonna bloody him a little when he comes back!” I shot up and yelled.

“You can’t make my decisions for me, Richie! Who do you think you are? You cannot tell me who I can go out with! What makes you think that Paul wanted to do something to me? I won’t put up with this shit!” I stomped off to the room where I slept and slammed the door behind me. Sitting on my bed a took off my shoes in a huff, and laid back. Tears threatened to spew across my face but I choked them back. Never in my life have I come across someone who tells me they loved me the second day we know each other.

Welcome to the mother-fucking Sue-Universe, girly.

My sexual experiences have not been few. I’ve been around the block and back, but this was something I’ve never felt before. None of my past lovers were smokers, and often broke up with me because I did. I mean, none of them were experienced enough to know where to touch, but with Ringo, all the moves were the right ones.

I like it when Sue’s actually admit to being complete whores.

“Oh—god—yes!” I moaned as he pumped his hips to mine rather hardly.

dgjdifhjrghruheuiode

“John, isn’t a Brian Epstein your manager?” I asked, disregarding the Malcolm thought.

“Yeah, he’s a cool dude,” he said stifling a small laugh. “He’s got a crush on me.” He stated.

“What?! He’s a homosexual?!” I gasped. John just laughed and nodded. “There’s nothing wrong with that, John. That’s mean, you know. Besides, I’m sure he is really a pleasure to meet.”

I always felt bad for Brian Epstein. He tried so hard to keep the fact that he was homosexual a secret… and from what I’ve read/heard, it was one of the things that led him to commit suicide. I also like how Sue authors seem to have him throwing around the fact that he’s gay. I think Paul once said something about the Beatles having a feeling that he was gay, and that’s about it.

“I know this is a little off the topic, but, uh, did I use a condom last night?” he asked, making me groan.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m on the pill.”

“Oh. So, we can do it all the time?” he asked, with high hopes.

“Mmm hmm.”

“Anywhere?” He kissed my lips.

“If you wish.”

“Any time?” He peeled off my bra.

“If you so desire.”

“How about now?” I didn’t realize he was kidding. I shot him an angry glare.

“What the hell do you think we’re doing?!” I gasped.

“Flirting!” Ringo finished with a laugh, and we made it again!

The birst control pill didn’t gain popularity until 1965, and this ending was just odgfijhrie

What makes this story bad: The fact that she’s John Lennon’s twin sister and gets mistaken for him a lot. Enough said. If I were a fan of Beatles!slash, I’d say that the only reason Ringo even likes Maureen is because of her striking resemblance to John.
Overall rating: I would have just given this a Bad, but being that the Sue is John Lennon's twin sister makes it OW$yui35jer0th2T!!!!!!

They aare playing the Beatles A-Z for the third time since Friday...

Fri, 16 Jan 2004 11:07:26 GMT

You know what peeves me? Well… actually a lot of things, but one of them happens to be when authors decide to give their characters somewhat common names, but with totally out-of-whack spelling. Sometimes though, I have to wonder…. Is it them trying to be “unique” or is it just a misspelling of the name? Either case, it annoys me as much as the Sues with “exotic” names make me.

On another note, I would like to take the time to point out that there are ways to make original characters interesting and… hell, even likeable, even if they do get with one of the boys! I don’t really think that all Beatles OCs=Mary Sues. I mean… hell, I actually liked that Minnie girl from that Three Cool Cats story.

First off, I would like to point out the essay Beyond Mary Sue by Meg Kline, which does offer some helpful tips on how to avoid making an OC a Mary Sue. Hell, she (and in a very rare case, he) could even be a carbon copy of you, and with a few simple guidelines, and you could avoid a whole OH MY GOD A REBELLIOUS GUITAR PLAYING GRRL SUE/TIME TREVELLER WHO BECOMES CHUMMY w/THE BEATLES IN A MATTER OF SECONDS, and make a person who may not be only some Beatle fling, but one of those one in a million characters people put in there stories that you could actually come to…. like.

Here are two more links which may help you out in keeping your “Sue” realistic rather than futuristic.

http://www.fiftiesweb.com/fashion/fashion.htm

This site includes much information on fifties slang, fads, and style. I’m putting this up since I’ve never really noticed that much of a difference between late-fifties/early-sixties junk. And this is where most Beatles fics take place. Hell, I think there’s even a section on the whole mod (late sixties, you know) style and junk in here.

http://www.diapers-4-less.com/1920-1959.htm

Year-to-year lists of the top ten girls/boys names from 1921-1959. Chances are, your character would have been born sometime in the forties (or early fifties, for that matter), so it’s best to not have them running around with names such as Alexia or Eclipse or what have you.

And now, the Sue I shall bring you today is written by the same ~~teenybopper~~ culprit that wrote the last piece. Although…. Reading this one makes me actually think the last one was somewhat cute, in that “ugly dog you adopted from the pound because you felt bad for it” sort of way.

But it only seemed “cute” once I read this story. I mean, bubbly fangirl comes into the past and gets chummy with the pre-Beatles, I can stand. This abomination dkgfklhfdghkghd

Still though, it could be worse. Speaking of worse, I’ll save that story for a special occasion. It’s not as much Mary Sue as it is “Oh God! My eyes!”

The Story: A Taste of ~~Arsenic~~ Honey
The ~~Author~~ Culprit: Everyone’s favorite teeny-bopper, Macca Beatles
Full Name (plus titles if any): Adora Williams (wait, she must be the sister of Andrea Williams, or, if my years are right, she could be her older version, with just a different name)
Hair Color (include adjectives): “…wavy black hair down to my shoulders…”
Eye Color (include adjectives): N/A
Unusual Markings/Colorations: looong legs that go “for miles and miles”, I think it said.
Special Possessions (if any): An answering machine in 1966, and *squick* Bob Dylan’s baby.

Annoying Origin: From America, they moved to London a few years ago, but have only lived there for a few months. Confused? I know I am.
Annoying Connections To Beatles: She becomes their secretary, and eventually gets with Paul… oh AND SHE IS HAVING BOB DYLAN’S BABY.
Annoying Special Abilities: Breathing.
Other Annoying Traits: Existing.

Please include a small sample of the worst of this story: This whole story… well, almost the whole story, could be the worse, but I will just but some of the tragic parts in. Shakespeare, watch out, Macca Beatle is the new face in writing tragedies… or whatever. "Nowhere, I quit, I hated my boss, he was something else, he was gross" I shuddered at the thought; he was sexually abusive kinda like.

You poor baby.
When I got back home, it was 7:30; Paul had called me and left a message for me to call him back. I called, and waited for an answer, I got one, but it wasn't what I expected..."Hello?" A female voice answered, she sounded like she had been asleep. "Um, hi" I answered, "Is Paul there?" I asked, starting to get mad, maybe there wasn't quite a relationship, but I was getting mad, he used me. After a minute, Paul answered. "Hello?" He answered groggily.
"Paul?"
"Yea. Who is this?"
I rolled my eyes..."It's Adora" I said coldly
Oh, hi, Adora, luv, what's goin' on?"
"Nothin', what did you want when you called me?"
"Oh, I wanted to see if you wanted to go out with me Saturday."
"No. Did you see the tabloids?"
"Yea, so? Is that why you won't go out?"
I sighed, "No, Paul, it isn't. I don't like bein' used, maybe I was right!"
"What the hell are you talkin' about?"
"You're using me, Paul!"
"How so"
"You are not going to sit and lie to me! I was right! You ARE a self-centered pig. Who answered your phone? So what am I Paul? A FUCKING TOY FOR YOUR ENJOYMENT! I don' think so. What do you do? Huh? After I'm out all night with YOU! Do you call one of your fucking whores?"
"It's none of your business what I do, Adora!"
"When you’re married, your wife won't put up with it! That is not right, Paul! Why would you use me like that?" I was on the verge of tears, "I trusted you, y'know?" I sniffed and hung up, I went and got a bottle of scotch and took in my bedroom to get drunk and cry myself asleep.

OMG What tragedy!

"Hello?"
"Adora?"
"This is her? Who's this?"
"It's Paul; I wanna say I'm sorry. Me an’ Falicia were just goin' out as friends, I have that right, please can we talk about this over dinner, tomorrow night? Please?"

I would like to note, that in the beginning, “Alicia” got Paul’s number first, but the moment Adora was alone with Paul, she started omg liek hitting on him *hee hee*

The age of the writer really shows when her adult Sue acts like a 13 year old.

I invited him in and we sat and kissed, and talked. Somewhere in between time, he pulled out a dry looking substance. It looked a lot like weed. I hadn’t had a joint since I was 16 years old! “Is that what I think it?”
“Well, that depends on what you think it is.” He chuckled
“Well, I think it’s weed, am I correct?” He nodded and proceeded to make a joint. He lit it up, took a hit and passed it to me. I felt really good after the joint, and a sudden rush of passion. Bob began to kiss me and I kissed him back. He trailed kisses from my lips to my neck and leaned me back against the couch and began to caress up my legs. I moaned when he began to get into my dress. I slid my hands through his hair. He brought one hand to my overdress and untied it. I took it off and began to kiss him again. ‘This is it’ I thought. ‘I’m about to lose my virginity.’ He began to take my dress off. I sat up and took it off and took off his shirt and began working at his belt. He was caressing my hips and put his fingers around the hem of my underwear and that’s when it really hit me. On the couch, with Bob Dylan. I pushed his pants down and he took them off.
The next day I woke up with a heavy, but comfortable weight on top of me and it started stirring. Like an anvil on my head, the thoughts of last night came rushing back to me…I had sex with Bob Dylan!!!

ehty4uty4956yfr89y89yu6489urg905ui90750jht!!!!!!!

She drove me home after about an hour. I would be going out with Paul tonight. What the hell would I tell him? The phone rang. I answered, “Hello?” “Hi. Are you alright?” I recognized that voice. It was Bob. “Peachy.” I said trying to sound more cheerful. “What’s wrong?” He really sounded worried.
“Nothing.” I said
”Please tell me!” He begged.
”You won’t like it…”
”You don’t know that.”
”Yes I do.” I argued.
”Try me.”
Then I said one of the stupidest things, “Don’t get mad.” I heard him sigh. “I won’t.” I braced myself. He deserved to know. It was his kid. “Bob? Did you just use me?” “…No.” “Fine then. I’m…er…I’mpregnant!” I said in a rush. “Huh?” “I’m pregnant.” I repeated slowly. For myself and for him. “Holy hell.” I heard him say.

Adora Williams is not my lo-ver… she’s just some dumb fangirl who says that I am the one… but the kid is not my son… *proceeds to moonwalk*

“please say something…” I begged him. I heard him gasp then he finally spoke. “When did you find out?” He questioned. “A few hours ago…”I said. “Is it mine?” He asked cautiously. “Well yea! I’m not a whore, Bob! You took my virginity if you don’t remember.” I said raising my voice. It came out pretty harsh. “Ok ok!! Don’t go into birth just yet woman! How could I forget me taking your virginity?” He chuckled. “And I know your not a whore…You don’t seem like one anyhow.” I sighed, “I’m sorry for raising my voice. I’m just stressed. But Lemme tell you, I’m going to have this baby…whether you like it or not.” I said softly but there was sternness there too. “I know Adora. I want this baby too, but I won’t be around too often you know that. I’ll help you out as much as you want. I’ll visit you as often as I can as.” “Thank you” I said sincerely. “You are welcome. Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t you have a date with Paul tonight?” I sighed. I had forgotten about that. “Yea. Should I tell him what happened? That I’m pregnant I mean.” He paused, “Yea…Yea I think you should. He deserves to know.” I sighed again, he was right. “Ok…I guess you’re right.” “Yea…guess so. Trust me. If he likes you…really truly likes you, he’ll get over it. If it doesn’t work out…then, I’m sorry.” He said. “I have to go, Adora. I’ll call you later.” “Awright. Bye.” And with that, we both hung up.

fgfkhjfihjofidfgr9e0y6i8590i64=509346-!!123@$%^^*## and you know, in this case, it’s the numerous guys she ~~hogs~~ dates at a time that are whores, never her.

Oh yes, and she finds out she’s pregnant the day after she has sex with Bob Dylan, just hours…. Even.
What makes this story bad: Everything. The icing on the cake was her reply to my comment:

Author's Response: weill i dont care what you say about my story, its MY story, i do what i want. other people DO infact like my stories. Im sorry if you dont. there are other stories to read besides mine. and i DO know the fashions i the sixties, i looked this up. but this is FICTION!!!! i dont claim to be a fantastic writer, im sorry you dont like, move along. find other stories if you dont like it. yes i use microsoft word, and i know the spell check and i do use it when i have time. I have FUN writing my stories the way i do, if you dont like it...write your own. i dont want my character to forget her memory, it would be no fun. AND I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED IN HAMBURG I HAVE A BOOK!!! you dont know if he were allowed to or not, he prolly wasnt but for the sake of my story i had him buy beer. have a cow, my story isnt correct, not everybody's story is, if you dont like it, DONT READ IT!

What the frijoles is up with people responding to that? OMG IT’S MY HOT ~~BODY~~ STORY I’LL DO WHAT I WANT!1!111 ^___^
Overall rating: OW$yui35jer0th2T!!!!!!
Well, on the bright side, she appears to type more coherantly.

Thu, 15 Jan 2004 03:53:54 GMT

Beatle Sues oft have their own set of stereotypes. Often, they come in two or more, and even if they’re American, they will use British slang. Exactly what are these authors thinking? That everyone used British slang in the sixties? I would gladly settle for a Sue that repeated the words “Far out or “Out of sight” over one from California that constantly shouts out the word “bloody”.

Another one of my most favorite Beatle Sue stereotypes is the whole “Beatles fan from now goes back in time and falls in love with one/all of the Beatles”. I have sadly read more of these in my time than the ones involving swinging chicks from the sixties bagging the boys.

The Story: Brand New Key
The ~~Author~~ Culprit: Macca Beatle
Full Name (plus titles if any): Andrea Williams
Hair Color (include adjectives): “…brown hair with 'natural' bloonde highlights.”
Eye Color (include adjectives): N/A
Beatle Sue stereotype: Grrl/Time Traveling Sue.
Special Possessions (if any): Knowledge of the Future, two boxes full of her CDs and CD player (of course), and “futuristic” clothes.

Annoying Origin: TEH FUTURE IN KENTUCKY
Annoying Connections To Beatles: In less than a day she becomes chummy with John, Paul, George, and Ken. In less than five minutes she becomes friends with Cynthia and Jean
Annoying Special Abilities: She can play guitar (of course), she looks old for her age, and all of the Beatles seem to love her!
Other Annoying Traits: All of her money that she had from the future automatically gets converted into “british currency”, and over time, her voice starts changing from a Kentucky accent to an English accent.

Please include a small sample of the worst of this story: “"I play the guitar as well you know." I smiled hoping my guitar was sent back in time with me. The both looked at me in surprise, "What? Never seen a chick play the guitar?" They shook their heads 'no'. "You don't usually see your average Liverpudlian girl walkin' 'round carryin' a guitar y'know." Paul said. Ah...Well, I guess you have now, haven't you?" I said, they both nodded. "George? Can I see your guitar?" He looked at me like I was crzy, I probably was. I sighed. "Please?" He looked very reluctant but gave in al the same. "Thank you very much. "Hmmm....What should I play?" "ELVIS!" George and Paul shoutd at the same time. I scrunched my face up. "I HAT Elvis." I said calmly, they looked at me insurprise once again,b ut before they could say anything, I began to play....and sing Paul Anka-Lonely Boy:
Im just a lonely boy,
lonely and blue,
Im all alone. with nothing to do....

When I finished the song, I looked up. On my way up, I saw four pair of nds clapping, and up again. I saw gour faces, and was met with the eyes of John Winston Lennon, and another boy I didn't know. Paul cleared his throat when the ovation was done. "Andrea, this is John Lennon and Ken Brown." Paul inrtroduced. Once again I was met with that hard lump in my throat. Whether this was a miracle, or a disaster waiting to happen. I didn't care, I was in paradise.”

Are you surprised that she plays good enough to get applause from them? Oh yeah, I hat Elvis too.

“And another thing, I got to meet three of my idols. One of whom I always dreamt of marrying, because I couldn't because
1.He was married
2.He was too old for me (according to other ppl, I'm sure he wouldn't mind. I certainly wouldn't)
and 3. There was no way I could get intact with him.”

I don’t know about you, but not a lot of 18 year olds (or almost 18 year olds) are willing to date a 14-year old teenybopper.

“I sat down and began to eat. I guss now would be the best time to tell her I don't eat meat.”

Of course, not. That’s what makes Andrea so cool. How many damn Mary Sues have the names Andrea, by the way?

“’Dammit, Lennon! You took my fuckin' guitar! You ARE gonna pay.’ I said, ‘Dearly!’ I grabbed my guitar and thumped his ear. ‘You fuckin' bastard. Prick ass.’ I walked off muttering to the front of my porch again.”

I always assumed that 14 year old girls in 1959 didn’t talk to older people like that. Oh well, I guess I’m clueless about this time period, good thing Andrea has set me straight.

“’You know, Andi. I just noticed you were wwaring drainpipes, that's a nice look.’ John said, I rolled my eyes. He had balls, saying that in front of his girlfriend. ‘You ready to go?’ She nodded and we headed down the road.

Well, that's maybe because you're just a stupid kid. I don’t know a single person that would be intimidated by their boyfriend making nice compliments to the kid neighbor.

“….a considerably short red chinese style dress, and a pair of fish-nets to go with it.”

Did they even have these in 1959? And I’m sure if they did, people that dressed in them were probably thought of as whores.

“Cyn looked down, ‘I like these, but I can't afford too many.’ I looked at her, ‘Don't worry! I have enough, come on. I will pay for the items yu don't have enough for.’ Cyn smiled, ‘Thank you! I know John will love this stuff.’ I nodded, the money I had in my Jean pockets that had been sent back in time with me had been converted to British curency.”

Dgfjdkgjldfkgjueidhklsgks

“Andrea,
Honey, we went to a friend of mines house. They just had a child, a boy! We will be back in a few days, there is money in the envelope, don't let anybody in the house!

Love,
Mommy and Daddy”

Like that would EVER happen, any time, any where.

"George decided to be bold I guess and asked me to dance, I accepted. It was a fast-paced, fun dance. We laughed and talked and continued to dance, a few numbers. One of them was a slow song. George got a bit nervous and put his arms on my waist kinda cautiously, but he seemed to relax when I put my arms around his neck. I wasn’t that attracted to George, I was a Paul fan, had been since I first laid my eyes on him in the photo booklet of The Beatles 1 CD in 2001, but George…George was cute…very cute, I loved his chiseled features. In fact he was the only man I knew who could make a uni brow look so good. I giggled at that thought, ‘Hey! What’s so funny?’ George asked. WHOOPS! Excuses, Andrea…excuses! ‘Oh! Ummm….I was thinkin’ is all’ I said, I felt him nod and we continued what was left of our slow dance in peace while I continued my thoughts. "

Everybody is so hawt for Andrea. But sadly, George would have been the only one I could imagine that wouldn’t have been bothered by her age.

“’Hey George?’ I said, ‘Will you get me a drink…..PLEEEEEASE!’ I finished. He nodded and signaled the waitress over to us and ordered a scotch and coke for me as well as him and she left.”

I’m so sure the George could buy beer in England when he’s sixteen, never mind he got kicked out of a bar in Germany for being under aged… and he was seventeen.

"I put my arms around neck and put my head on his chant as we swayd lightly to the music."

dgnfkhnfjkh WTF?

"I was smoking a ciggie and was about to begin to play 'Waterfalls' when I heard a front door squeak and some laughter...it was Paul and George, and most definetly John."

Omg so BAD

"I was wonderin' if ya'd like o come and swim wif us is all, but if you're gonna be a bitch about it, then fine."

Aside from the "wif", this is the best thing any of the Beatles have said in this story, ever.

"’Or what?’ He said, ‘ Or I'll piss on yer fuckin' head!’”

dfjkghjgkljhfihgio

“John began to laugh, ‘She's takin' afta me, she is!’ He laughed. ‘I doubt it! I dont get hard-ons lookin' at females!’

OMG LOLOLOLOLOLOL
‘Oh. We were just examinin' yer bathin' suit is all.’ John said with a sly grin, ‘Oh, by the way. We can see yer tits.’ He laughed, ‘Yer a perv!’”

dkkfhfjhgdithrihjbkfs OF COURSE THE BEATLES WOULD LIKE 2 STARE @ A 14-YR OLD GRRLS BOOBS

“I took my one of my two boxes and sat it infront of me. The first thing I pulled out was one of my CD holders. This held my Beatle CD's, I looked at it fondly and sat it down beside me, and continued to look through my stuff for the next few hours, I found ALL KINDS of stuff from my room from the future. I found my 8 CD cases (absurd I know). I had a case for my Beatle CDs, Paul McCartney CDs, Ringo Starr CDs, George Harrison CDs, John Lennon CDs, Who CDs, a CD case for all of their solo albums, and two for my miscellaneous CDs.”

Omg of course her futuristic gizmos are all with her in the past!

“‘You know, you look older than fourteen’ He said thoughtfully”

"Let's have sex".

"Alright!" i said this was an offer ic couldn't pass up!

… I made the last part up.
“’ Sure...What should I play?’ I wanted to play Blackbird, but it might change history, and I don't want that to happen...Well, maybe a few things, I still wanted Paul to marry Linda. She was good for him, and that fateful year would just kill him, I would HAVE to change Yohko. I almost cringed at the thought of her.”

I hate Yohko too!

Why do people always have to bash on Yoko Ono? She obviously made John a hell of a lot happier than Cynthia did, so why do people have to hate?
What makes this story bad: Not only is the concept so painfully unoriginal, but it’s written like crap. WHEN DIFFERENT PEOPLE TALK YOU START A NEW PARAGRAPH OR WHATEVER, AND WOULD IT HURT TO ACTUALLY SPEAK COHERANT-LIKE?
Overall rating: Really... bad.
Maybe it would have gotten a bad.... if it hadn't dissed Yoko.

Wed, 14 Jan 2004 08:18:57 GMT

“After a humiliating public experience, three very different girls lay out the bet, to prove their daring side. The plan: be the first one to sleep with a Beatle. While on the other foot, the boys start their own bet: who will last the longest, abstaining from sex! Who will win this tricky dare? Will it be the kooky, ditzy blonde, Kiki? The soft-spoken, sweet brunette, Roxy? Or the sultry, heart-breaking redhead, Claudia? And which one of the lads will cave in first? Find out! Read ‘Three Cool Cats’...”

No.

The Story: Three Cool Cats
The ~~Author~~ Culprit: SabrinaLu

And now, for your reading pleasure, I shall do separate Name/Hair/Eyes/Markings/Possesions forms for each of the three Sues!!

Full Name (plus titles if any): Claudia Deneuve *squick*
Hair Color (include adjectives): “…volumous mass of fire-red hair…”
Eye Color (include adjectives): not mentioned… maybe it was in the ten missing chapters, I don’t know.
Which Beatle she gets : John
Short Bio: She’s smart, she’s sexy, she’s oh-so-sassy. She’s Claudia Denevue, breaker of hearts. With the name of a cheap romance novel heroine and the looks of Ginger Spice. (See here, under “Claudia”). She’s one of those snobby bitchy tramp sues, which I’m sure everyone loves. :) - I like emoticons.

Full Name (plus titles if any): Roxy (gfjhjgkjghjdghfjkhgs *squick*)
Hair Color (include adjectives): “…thick, jet-black hair…”
Eye Color (include adjectives): And again, not mentioned in Chapter 1 OR Chapter 12, which seem to be the only two chapters up, maybe it’s mentioned in the missing 10 chapters!
Which Beatle she gets : George
Short Bio: She’s the cute ditz of the group, and since she’s been mentioned the least, I probably like her the best. I’m sure she gets squicky and just as irritating as the other two in the infamous missing ten chapters.

Full Name (plus titles if any): Kiki Welsch
Hair Color (include adjectives): “Her head was crowned with a pale blonde bob…”
Eye Color (include adjectives): “…lashes that fluttered with three pairs of thick false lashes…” and “…eyes so large and twinkling blue…”
Unusual Markings/Colorations: “…lips the color of foamy pink bubbles…” is it just me, or does that not sound all that attractive? It almost sounds like she’s… rabid.
Short Bio: She’s the go-go dancer at Whiskey A-Go-Go. If I had any idea exactly which year this story takes place, I’d argue that go-go dancers weren’t around until 1966, but I won’t…. even though I assume this takes place 1964-1965. ,
But, any way… I’m assuming if, by some miraculous way, Goldie Hawn and Twiggy had a baby, this would be it.
She’s pretty, she’s perky, she’s “innocent”, in that Britney Spears sort of way. Spork please.

Annoying Origin: The Whiskey A-Go-Go in Sunny Southern California.
Annoying Connections To Beatles: I’m assuming they all eventually sleep with them (except for Ringo…. Ha ha)
Annoying Special Abilities: QUIRKY TRAITS YAY! ONE IS A BITCH SINGER! ONE IS THE ONE THAT HAS NO ANNOYING PERSONALITY EXCEPT THAT SHE’S DITZY! ONE IS A PERKY INNOCENT GO-GO DANCER YAY!

Please include a small sample of the worst of this story: “Annoyed by her volumous mass of fire-red hair, she ran her fingers through the heap of wavey locks. A strand of hair limply fell over her left eye, in a seductive manner as she devilishly gazed up at her heart-broken boyfriend. Dismissing new boyfriends had always been a favorite past-time of her's. It was the sadistic pleasure of being the one in charge, and seeing that crumpled look on the victim's face, that she most enjoyed. Everyone who was anyone in Los Angeles, California should have known better; Claudia Deneuve was a tease. Her average relationship lasted no longer than three bittersweet weeks, and the number of broken hearts left behind...oh, thousands. Her common appeals were appearance and money. Coming from a rich backround of wealthy parents and successful relatives, Claudia was used to the spoiled treatment and endless pampering.”

Dgtfkghjflihjruio

“The girl standing under the glowing light gracefully accepted her duty, and walked to the stage. Swingin' Sal was all smiles as he looked her up and down: She was a petite young lady with a modern day blonde flip. Her face was unique, with her high cheek bones and perky nose. Wearing black go-go boots was just the finishing touch to the girl's own persona. Sal greeted, "Hey foxy lady, what's your name?" Uneasily moving her lips to the microphone, she shyly answered, "Minnie." The men in the club hollered and howled, cat whistling like perverts.

Claudia raised a suspicious eyebrow. ‘Do you think she's prettier than me?’ she asked Roxy, with uncertainty. Seldom was their competition in Claudia's arena of the spotlight. She vainly prepped her hair and then turned to Rox for her response.
’I guess, if you like that scrawny, blonde...type.’ She bitterly said.
Claudia smiled, evily. ‘Yeah, you're right. I bet she can't hit a note on key!’
Roxy nodded in agreement. ‘Look at her. She's not that pretty.’
’Really!’
’I mean, I bet her hair isn't even really blonde.’
’Oh, I know!’
’Like, she's so much better than us?’
’Not a chance.’
The two girls sneared, as they watched from the bar. Inwardly, intimidated as hell. Outwardly, arrogant like goddesses.”

I’m sorry, I think Minnie is probably the best OC in here. Maybe it’s because she pisses of two of them so much. But I’m sure if more is ever written in this story, she’ll eventually get with Ringo…

“Minnie took the microphone, and quietly sat on a stool in the center of the stage. The room was dead silent, waiting for the record to come on. As the opening music set in, everyone listened. ‘The look of love is in your eyes. The look your heart can't disguise,’ she softly sang. The lyrics to a beautiful love ballad came pouring out as she sang, remarkably similar to its original singer, Dusty Springfield. Slowly, couples paired on the dance floor and began to sway to the romantic melody. Minnie grew more comfortable with her setting, and moved her shoulders gently to the music. ‘I can hardly wait to hold you,
feel my arms around you. How long I have waited...’”

… this annoys me. Kind of. The fact that she sings so well is irksome. And, being that this song was made in 1967, I’m assuming this story takes place around this time. But then again… they do mention Brian, only I’m not sure if he’s alive or not in the story djgkfhjfklhd this story is confusing. But… whatever.

“’Don't ever go. I love you so.’ Minnie finished the last two lines to her song and the audience clapped their praises. Swingin' Sal took her microphone and said, ‘Well what did you think of Miss Minnie?’ The crowds cheered louder, and Minnie's cheeks fell ruddy. ‘Wasn't she something? We thank you, Minnie, for singin' us that song. It was great and it sounds like everyone else thought so too.’ Humbled and flustered, Minnie smiled to the audience and blew them a grateful kiss. Then, she came off the stage, only to be surrounded by a bunch of congratulating fans.

Irritated at the pleased crowd, Claudia remarked, ‘My vocal range is MUCH better than THAT. I don't know WHY everyone's so intrigued by HER.’”

Maybe because she’s not Bitchy McBitch? I don’t know…

“‘John,’ she said softly. ‘Lately, I have been...reading things. Things in the paper I try convincing myself isn't true. I want to believe nothing is going on there, in California. I really do...but I have my doubts."
"Ya can't believe shit you read from the press. You know that.’
’But I *can* believe you, can't I? Then tell me you haven't been fucking around. Tell me you haven't lusted over another woman and tell me you've only had eyes for me.’
Hearing his wife's words stiffened John's conscience. The tedious temptation of deceit left a lasting impression on him. Trying to rationalize it in his head, John thought, 'If I am only trying to spare her feelings, it's not *really* a lie. Maybe a white lie...but not a LIE.' He took a deep breath and answered plain and simply, ‘No, Cynthia. I haven't looked at any other woman. I love you.’
She drank in his words like the most elegant of wines. It was what she had been striving to hear ever since he picked up the phone. Though his sincerity sounded a little off-key, at that moment, it didn't matter.

’I love you too, John.’ she said.
He almost sighed in relief but restrained himself. ‘Give Julian a kiss for me. Tell him that daddy will be home in two weeks...for sure. And nothing bad will happen in that time.’”

Ten minutes (or less) later….

“’Oh bullocks! I've gotta date. I totally forgot about it.’ John beckoned, still upstairs.
’With whom? And where are you taking her?’ Ringo asked.
’The redhead...Claudia. She's actually coming over here but I was contemplating taking her out for the day.’ he replied.”

Wow, actually feeling somewhat guilty over cheating on his wife one minute, and worrying about a date the nest. Ever the ladies man… folks, I give you John Lennon. I just love how he is almost always perceived as a total prick in most Mary Sue fics, but in slash, he is nice as apple pie. Mmm… pie.

”He stood up from the pool and walked into the next room, legs dripping with water. ‘John,’ he called up to him, ‘maybe you should take Claudia out instead of having her loaf around here. It's safer, anyhow. Cynthia might call while she's over.’
John stopped dead in his tracks. ‘Good thinking! I'll try to think up some place to take her, outside the estate. I could use some fresh air, anways.’
’I've got a date too, ya know.’ George added. ‘I'm taking Roxy to the Blue Bonnette. But that's later on tonight.’
Ringo grinned. ‘You mean that expensive restaraunt uptown? That place is nice! I've been round there before. Brian, Mal, and I rented the place out one night to have dinner. Very classy place." He paused. "Wait a tic! I'm the only one without a date today!’
’You have a girlfriend,’ Paul reminded him, in a low voice so George and John couldn't hear.
’Ooooh, that's right. Nevermind, then. I'm happy.’

This either means:
a.) in one of the missing ten chapters, he and Minnie (I’m sure it would be her) hook up.
b.) He is referring to Maureen, who, if this were 1967, were actually married by then.

And wherever are Jane/Linda and Patti? Omg THEY ARE NONEXISTANT YAY MUCH LIKE MOST WIVES/GIRLFRIENDS/FIANCES IN BEATLE SUE FICS!

What makes this story bad: The fact there are TEN CHAPTERS IN THE MIDDLE missing annoyed me. Kiki in herself, is part of what makes this story bad. Bitchy!Sue Claudia irritates the hell out of me. The fact that I have no idea when this story takes place annoys me too. This whole story pisses me off and frankly, wants to make be throw rocks at people.
Overall rating: The special rating for stories so bad it gets the "Anna Burns" rating.

Edit: I have changed her rating, after reading her site, her journal and all of the communities she's in. I have concluded that, aside from appearance, Claudia is her.

First Sue yay!

Mon, 15 Dec 2003 10:19:50 GMT

"Oh my goodness this story is INSANE!!! But I love it!!!!!! Keep writing. I love the fact taht Ringo gets the girl! Yay Ringo! He's sooooooooo cute!"

1.) Please don't liaten to this review and don't write. Any more.
2.) I pity the fact that Ringo gets Mary Sue.

The Story: I Want Someone Who Loves Me
The ~~Author~~ Culprit: Robin’s Gurl INSANE

Full Name (plus titles if any): Keri Seamings
Hair Color (include adjectives): N/A
Eye Color (include adjectives): N/A
Unusual Markings/Colorations: N/A
Special Possessions (if any): A cell phone that still works in 1964, that keeps her connected to her friend Mandy in 2002, and… “hippy clothes”. Oh, and an idiot friend named Mandy who eventually goes back in time too. And RINGO AND PAUL’S HEARTS! Jane and Maureen who?

Annoying Origin: After her boyfriend breaks up with her, Keri runs off into an alley, crying about how nobody loves her, and then everything starts spinning and… BAM! 1964
Annoying Connections To Beatles: The Beatles somehow trust her after she saves them from screaming girls, and even after she goes into a fangirlish seizure after realizing it’s them, they all decide to take her to their hotel. AND THEY BEALIEVE HER WHEN SHE SAYS SHE’S FROM 2002… oh, and eventually she falls in love with Ringo.
Annoying Special Abilities: She comes from the future. She blurts out how John and George die five minutes after she meets them
Other Annoying Traits: I think I’ve already included them….

Please include a small sample of the worst of this story:
Keri felt rain, cold rain pour down her as she watched Kanin leave, “I..I knew it..” Tears started falling and they wouldn’t stop. “No..one loves me.” She ran and ran trying to get away from everything. Then she tripped and fell falling into a huge puddle, “Why is this happening to me?”

Because you suck, that’s why. Hahahahahaha. No.

“OMG!! IT’S REALLY THEM!!” A girl with blonde hair and fark brown eyes ran past her followed closely by millions of other girls.”

My teacher said in the 1960s kids spoke internet chat lingo all of the time. Also… I wish I had fark brown eyes.

Keri pulled one out of the huge crowd by her arm. “Who is here?”

“Like, The Beatles.” The girl pulled away and ran off.

Keri blinked then started to crack up, “Oh yeah like I am going to believe that one.” Just as she said that four young men came running, “Wot’s wrong?”

The youngest one huffed, “Get us out of here and we’ll tell you.” He seemed surprised that she didn’t know who they were but took the opportunity and ran with her.

Keri nodded and led them into an alley, the girls sped past them oblivious. “Now, mind telling me wot that was all about?”

“You’re British!!?” The cute one asked.

“Yeah…why?”

“It’s America.”

“Wot?!?! I was just in England a few moments ago!!” Keri flipped, ::How could I get to America when I was England.?::

Then I wanna hold your hand came on. All four boys jumped,

“Chill dudes it’s just my phone.” Keri pulled an orange cell phone out of her bag, “Allo?”

“Girl where are you?” It was Mandy.

You see… if it were the 1960s, and I was in America, and somebody had a cellphone, I wouldn’t let them stay with me, I’d go and report them as Communists.

“John Lennon was shot and killed December 8th, 1980 in South Dakota.” Keri choked out in between her sobs, “A..And George Harriosn died of Lung Cancer November 28th, 2001.. OMG OMG..”

So, John Lennon was really killed at the New York Apartments in South Dakota?

Ringo couldn’t hold his feelings back, he found him self for the 15th time that day looking at her. Ringo found himself falling in love with Keri. He sighed dreamily watching Keri read a book about someone named Burt Ward, she had brought with her from the future.

After less than a few hours, mind you.

Keri nodded satisfied with Ringo’s answer and returned back to Burt Ward’s Biography. She couldn’t concentrate on her favorite actor’s history today for some reason. Her thoughts kept drifting to Ringo. Keri wanted Ringo to hold her close and whisper gentle words of love in her ear. ::Cut it out Keri, ::Keri scolded herself, ::Ringo would only think you were one of those fan girls..::

Ringo sat there bored, He soon found himself thinking of Keri again. What he would do to hold her close and kiss her lightly on the head. Soothing every fear she had in her life and make everything ok. ::Stop it Ringo. Keri wouldn’t want you..she wants Paul or George prolly…no need to worry your self over her.::

And they called it… puppy love—OH NO WAIT WHAT AM I SAYING?! *shoots self*

At the concert Keri hid behind the curtains giggling. “I can’t believe I am at a Beatle Concert. How cool is that?” Then her thoughts went back to Mandy. “Oh no! I forgot to call her.” She grabbed her cell phone then ran past Neil.

“Hey where are you going?”

“I have to call my friend. If Ringo asks tell him I’ll be right back.” Keri called out.

I would automatically assume friend =Joseph Stalin. Call the FBI OMG!!!

Then a shadowy figure appeared. “Do you really want to go back in time and live there? You know history could be changed for ever.”

Mandy sat up in surprise. “WOT?!?!”

“Answer my questions.”

“Oh, yes, I know history could be changed. But Keri and I never knew our parents so it really wouldn’t matter.”

“Are you sure?”

Mandy nodded making a final decision. “Yes.”

“You will be allowed to keep a connection to the future. To make sure that the future won’t be changed to badly.”

“Ok.”

“Fine. Close your eyes.”

“Wait!! I need to pack.”

“No need.”

“O..ok..?” Mandy laid back down and closed her eyes. When she opened them again she was in the same house, same clothes, same everything..only her CD collection had turned into a record collection. “Wow..gear!”

Shoot me the fuck now.

“Keri..” Ringo pulled her close and held her, “I love you.” Keri kissed him smiling. The moment was perfect. Her life was perfect.

“Keri!” Keri and Ringo looked over to see Kanin standing there smiling. “How’s my hippie bird.”

“Kanin?” Keri walked over cautiously.

“Come here love, I won’t hurt you. I’m your Paulie remember?” Keri shook her head and went back over to Ringo, who put his arms around her waist, “No you have hurt me one to many times.”

“Fine, I’ll make you love me.” Kanin pulled out a gun and pointed it at Ringo. “Say good bye to each other.”

“No Kanin don’t!!! PLEASE!!!” Her pleads were droned out by a gun shot, “RINGO!! NO!!!” The drummer fell over dead. Keri fell on his chest sobbing. Kanin walked over and pulled her close but Keri pushed him away, “NO!! I DON’T LOVE YOU!! JUST GET AWAY FROM ME!!!!”

“Yes you do. I can love you like no one else can.”

“You lie!!!” A stream on non stopping tears ran down Keri’s cheeks. “You killed the one who loved me for I was..Oh Ringo please wake up!!!”

I want to die now.

(Sorry for the VERY long update!!! *bows* Gomen Nausi Minna-san!! Enjoy this chapter.)

*convulses*
What makes this story bad: Everything. I have learned a valuble lesson today, that I actually already did know, but this proved in. When people say something like “NOT a Mary Sue *kills Mary Sue*” It is one. And perhaps one of the worse ones. Not only was the concept of this story mind-numbingly retarded (and in the Beatles fandom world, sadly unoriginal), it was about historically inaccurate as… as… and anime about that time period.

There are a lot of other things, but this is my first post and it’s two in the morning.
Overall rating: Really... bad