Keith had a great time that night with Ringo. Mick on the other hand third wheeled the whole way despite his constant flirting.

They all rode home on Mick's giant ego... just kidding Ringo conveniently contacted a cab as he fell to Earth. The cab picked all three of them up and dropped each one off. Ringo at Bob Dylan's house where he could smoke weed then never be seen or heard from again.

Keith sat at home alone, it was the early hours of the morning. He glanced over at his clock ticking on the wall, shifting from one side to the other.  He soon drifted off to sleep.

"Morning Keith," said a soft but familiar voice. It was Elisa, his very good pink haired friend. She smiled at Keith.

"Oh yeah El, I'm sorry I slept in."

"I noticed you looked so cute I didn't dare wake you. Are we still going out today?"

"Yeah."

3 hours, 2 locations and 1 injury later...

Elisa attended to Keith's wound. Casually. In the open. She wrapped her brightly coloured scarf around his head in attempt to use it as a bandage. Curse the fact she didn't bring her health and safety emergency kit today.

Bill noticed the two, he walked up and sniggered. "How'd you hurt your head this time..."

"Don't ask," snapped Keith shaking his head.

"Oooh, someone is feisty."

Elisa turned to Bill and looked him dead in the eye. "We were bowling and Keith used his head quite literally.

There was a brief silence where everyone contemplated Keith's stupidity.

Bill announced it out loud. "You're an idiot Keith."

"It was only a quick game while everyone was gone."

"You. Are. An. Idiot."

Keith looked down at his shoes and sighed. "Yeah... I know."