"In the- the- the- the- ah- ah- ah- CHOO!- lower cabinet," John replied.
     Because of the momentary opening of the kitchen door, Paul caught a good whiff of Shake's soup.     "Mmmmmm!!" he exclaimed. "What is that?"
     "Er...it's a special all-day chicken soup," he said. "Passed down to me by me mum." Shake blinked nervously and closed the door.
     "It didn't work!" the director cried, speaking of his attempt to beat the cold out of John. "Let me try it from the front." He knocked John over on his back and pounded the poor lad's stomach a few times. John seemed as if he was losing his breath. George ran and pulled the director away.
     "Leave him alone! Leave him alone, you wretched nit!" he cried as loud as he could.
     The director turned around. "What did you call me?!?" he asked, furious.
     "I said you're a wretched nit!" George replied.
     "Why you ungrateful..." He peeled the mud off of George's neck and began strangling him. "I'll squeeze the voice back into you!!!"
     "Quit it!" John cried with a sneeze, kicking the director in the butt. The director kicked John from the back and continued with his strangling. George brought up his knee quickly and- crunch! Paul, who had been keeping his cool all this time, joined in. He jumped on the director's back and began flogging him on the head. Amidst all this excitement sat Ringo, giggling like a school girl with his ankle wrapped in the leaf.The director left, more bruised and miserable than the ones who were sick in the first place.
     "Please! Somebody stop the tickle!!!!!!!!!!!" exclaimed Ringo.
     "You see!" Paul's grandfather cried. "My magic worked! It made them all healthy! Did you see my dear Paulie floggin' that man?? Didya?? Huh???" "Dear Paulie" looked like he was about to collapse. And he did.
     "Why didn't you help- he- he- ah- ah- CHOO!! help us, Ringo?" John exclaimed.
     "I would have hurt me ankle!" Ringo cried. He fell on the floor, holding his sides in laughter as if it was a funny joke.
     Shake came out of the kitchen in a chef's hat and apron. He went to get the paper. The front headline was FAB FOUR AILING BAD- BOYS EXPECTED NOT TO RECOVER SOON! "News travels fast," he thought, going back to the kitchen.
     Old Man McCartney checked his watch. "It's time for your second dose, Paulie!" he said, taking out the cod liver oil. Paul screamed and in a panic, hit his grandfather in trying to get away.
     Just when Paul's grandfather was cursing young Paul out, Shake stuck his head in and asked, "Hey, where are the onions?"
     " They're in the #$#$%^ fridge, you bloody #$%#!" Paul's grandfather cried.
     Shake looked sad. "Well, okay, if you're going to be so sore about it." He went back in the kitchen. Norm put his head in his hands.
     "We'll never get you boys feeling right if this keeps up!" he said sadly. Then, Norm felt like hitting himself. "Of course!!!"
     "Of course what?" Ringo asked, trying to stop giggling.
     "I should have called a professional doctor!!" he cried. Norm reached for the phone. "Hello, Dr. Aldner? I need you to come down to 2625 Barbinall Street...I've got four cases of diseases that need help. We can't give them medical attention.One's got laryngitis, one's got the flu, one's got a bad cold, and one's got a sprained ankle. Could you come as fast as you can?...All right. Thanks." Norm hung up.     "It's all set."
     About ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Norm answered it and Dr. Aldner, a balding man in his early sixties, walked in. "What seems to be the trouble?"
     "All right...Ringo, come here." Ringo hobbled over to the couch. He sat down. "This is the one with the sprained ankle," Norm explained.
     The doctor bent down and unwrapped Ringo's ankle. He washed the salve off of the giggling drummer and gasped. "What did you use on this man?!?"
     Old Man McCartney beamed. "The cure-all McCartney salve," he said, holding up the bottle.
     "Well, this cure- all has infected the man's leg and turned his ankle bright pink!" Dr. Aldner exclaimed. Ringo was still giggling.
     "Pink! Me ankle's pink! Hee hee hee!" Ringo clutched his stomach and doubled over in laughter. "Pink! Lovely pink!!!"
     "All right then," Dr. Aldner said warily. He turned to George. "And what's wrong with this one?"
     "He's the one that's got laryngitis," Norm said.
     "Hmmm..." The doctor looked down George's throat and shivered. "Ugh...I don't think this is laryngitis at all. I think it may be worse."
     "Worse?!?" Norm exclaimed.
     "Yes," Dr. Aldner said gravely. "Something has been squeezing the man's airway for a while and his throat seems to have shrunk."
     "Shrunk! Shrunk!" Norm cried. "Will he ever sing again?"
     "No," Dr. Aldner said.
     Everyone gasped. Even Shake in the kitchen.
     "That is, it depends on if he's sung a lot or not. If he has, then his throat's pretty much gone. If he's never sung a note in his life before, then he's all right." Dr. Aldner made George close his mouth. George hung his head. You could see that lower lip trembling and the eyes filling up, an expression of sadness that only rivaled Paul.
     "PINK PINK PINKITY PINKY PINK!!!" Ringo sang.
     "Shut up you twit!" Paul cried.
     "I'M A TWIT AM I? A PINK TWIT!!! PINKY IS WHAT I'M CALLED!!!" Ringo exclaimed.
     All of a sudden the kitchen door opened and Shake came in with a gargantuan pot of steaming hot soup. "All done!" he said proudly. "Come on, you lot, and eat up!"
     Everyone went over to Shake except for George, who stood there hanging his head.
     "George," Norm said, his voice softening a bit, "maybe this stuff will help you."
     George pouted and finally joined the others. He sat down at the table, arms crossed.
     Paul took a spoonful of soup, blew on it, and then put it in his mouth. He thought for a moment, then said, "Wow!!! This is- this is good stuff! And I don't feel sick anymore!"
     "Dod't be a soub hog!" John cried. "Let be hab sobe!" He grabbed a bowl and slurped up a large spoonful. John cleared his throat. "Hey- hey, I'm talking normal again!" He paused, expecting a sneeze. Nothing. "I'm cured!" He gleefully threw a handful of Kleenex up into the air.
     Ringo was laughing so hard that he had to be helped as he put the spoon into his mouth. When he finally swallowed the soup, the laughter diminished. Ringo looked down at his ankle. "Hey- I'm not pink anymore!"
     Everyone turned to George.
     "What?" George asked.
     "Go on." Shake shoved a bowl of soup in front of him. "Try it and see if it works."
     George looked dubiously at the bowl, then thought, oh well. He took a taste of the soup. All of a sudden he broke into a version of "Blue Suede Shoes." The house swang and jumped as they jammed on with other songs into the night. Norm and Shake danced, and even Paul's granddad joined in on a few numbers. They were all happy again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE end