"I'm gunna go for a hike."

The other boys exchanged glances that said Are you kiddin' me?

"You? Go for a hike?" Paul said, looking John up and down.

"Yeah. I just thought it would be... rejuvenating," John finished lamely.

"Rejuvenating," Paul scoffed, crossing his arms, "I've known you for a long time. Rejuvenating is not in your vocabulary."

"He's right," butted in George.

"Shut up, swine," John retorted.

"If I can recall correctly, last week you were all 'Make love, not war'. What happened there?" George mumbled.

The lads were sitting in Abbey Road studios, drinking tea. They had just finished a recording session. The year is 1965.

John sat on the couch, fuming. He couldn't believe his closest mates for a long time and didn't believe him. At all.

"Ok, what are you really doing? We won't tell Cyn if yer shaggin' someone," Paul said playfully.

"No, I'm really going hiking. Honest!" John protested.

"Alright, alright," Paul said, rising up from the chair he sat on, "If you don't want to tell your closest mates for the last 6 or 7 years-"

"Don't even try that," John warned.

"Aw, quit bickerin'," Ringo said, who had been quiet until this point.

"Yeah, Rings is right," George said, also getting off the couch.

Paul and George took everyone's teacups and put them away. John wandered to the window and watched the dark night.

"Well, I'm gunna go," Paul announced.

"I'm coming with," George replied.

"Yup, " Ringo simply stated.

They started to go the entrance. John had no choice but to go with them, so he followed suit. He grabbed his jacket and went to his car.

"Bye. See you," John said absentmindedly,  climbing into his car.

The others muttered replies, and John took off into the night. When he arrived at home, he glanced at his watch. It read 10:30. He had been there for some time. He changed clothes and went to bed.