"And that's why I never ate bananas ever again," John finished off his story with a slight bow of his head, his hair sliding down to his mischievous, almond eyes.

"How did we get that from asking if it was his turn?" Ringo wondered aloud after he, George, and Paul stared at John in concern.

"Let's be honest," Paul said. "We've heard worse from him before."

The other three (yes, even John) murmured in agreement.

"Georgie, my boy!" John clapped his hand on George's back, and not very lightly either. George flinched and glared. "What's it gonna be? Shall you embarrass yourself by answering a possibly personal question? Or shall you make a fool of yourself?"

"It's really a lose-lose situation," Paul hummed.

"I'll go with the second choice," George decided after a moment of hesitance and reluctance.

"Ok..." John scratched the back of his head. "What's something that'll really torture you?"

"John," George arched an eyebrow.

"Well, I mean, it's got to be something good," John shrugged.

"Ok, think," Ringo encouraged.

"If you can," Paul muttered under his breath.

"What's George's most prized possession?" Ringo asked.

"Anything that involves food," John blinked. Then, he smirked. "Aha..."

"Thanks, Rings," George said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Geo, I dare you to make yourself a sandwich-"

"I like where this is going," George said eagerly.

"Then throw it on the floor so you can't eat it," John said.

"And the dream ends there," George's eyes drooped solemnly. "Can't you just make me eat your water soup?"

"Honestly, George, that's worse than not eating the sandwich," Paul shuddered.

"How would you know!" George pointed an accusing finger at Paul for no good reason.

Paul raised his eyebrows. "Um, George..."

"Oh," George blushed when he realized what he said.

"Well, go on, then!" John tugged at George's sleeve. "Get to it!"

"I swear, you're all trying to give me a heart attack," George muttered as he stood up and dragged himself to the kitchen.

"You don't think we're going too far, do you?" Ringo asked.

"Nah," John shook his head. "It's truth or dare, after all."

"I suppose."

After many groans from poor, hungry George, he finally returned to the living room, a sandwich with ham and cheese topping it off in hand. His mouth watered as he stared at the sandwich, eyes craving for just one little bite.

"It has to be done, George," Paul rubbed George's shoulders.

"Be strong," Ringo clutched both hands over his chest.

It took awhile, but eventually, George tossed his beloved sandwich to the floor, where the cheese toppings slipped out of the bread.

"WHY!" George cried.

"I'm very proud of you," Paul awkwardly hugged his younger friend.

"Gone," George gasped. "I-it's gone. It's..." He whipped around to John and glowered. "You're an evil human being!" he pointed at John dramatically.

"I am, aren't I?" John said thoughtfully.

He, Paul, and Ringo took their precious time in trying to calm George down before he got into another mental breakdown like before. George wanted to "reanimate" his sandwich so he could actually eat it. However, as they all argued, John had taken a step back and accidentally stood on the fallen sandwich, squishing up the remaining ham, cheese, and bread. And George was livid.

"JOHN YOU IDIOT WHY THE HELL WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU!"

"Ok, that was an accident," John stared at the ruined sandwich.

"ACCIDENT? ACCIDENT!"

"Geo, just make a new one," John said calmly. "You could put more toppings on it. Like maybe... lettuce?" He had said the first topping that came to mind.

"OH YEAH? WELL HOW ABOUT YOU TAKE YOUR STUPID LETTUCE AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR-"

"OK!" Paul yelled before George could continue. "That's quite enough! I don't want to hear another word about this dare. From either of you! Understand?" He looked between George and John warningly, expecting one or the other to argue. When neither of them did, he nodded in satisfaction. "Good."

"And that's why we call you the mother hen," Ringo smiled, amused.

"Now Geo," Paul turned to George. "Try to be civil. It's your turn."

"Ok," George took a deep breath. "Ok. Ringo, truth or dare?"

"Truth!" Ringo said excitedly, snatching up his rings from the coffee table. "Finally! I miss you!" He slipped his rings back on his fingers and lovingly stared at them. "This is great! I can just sing!"

"Save that for the next album," John grinned.

"Oh yeah!" Ringo was practically bouncing.

"Ok," George thought for a moment. "What's the stupidest thing you've ever done?"

"Keeping my rings off for almost twenty minutes," Ringo stated easily.

"It wasn't that long, come on," George said.

"It was," Ringo nodded. "I timed it. It was eighteen minutes and forty-seven seconds. I'm never leaving them off for that long ever again."

"Ringo, do you sleep with those on?" Paul questioned curiously.

"Erm..." Ringo's eyes widened, and his cheeks reddened. "Well, uh... ahem... George already asked me a question. Why should I answer another?"

"It's a simple yes or no-"

"Paul, truth or dare?" Ringo said quickly.

"Oh," Paul thought for a moment. "Dare, I guess."

"Alright, Paulie, I dare you to call old Maxwell and tell him that you're from 31 flavours (I've heard of it and apparently it's this ice cream shop with 31 flavours). Say that if he can name all 31 flavours in 31 seconds, he wins 31 thousand pounds."

"Ooh, I like the way you think," John chuckled.

Paul grabbed the phone off its cradle and dialled their friend, Maxwell's number. He put it on speaker for everyone else to hear and waited for an answer.

"Maxwell's Hammer Company," a familiar voice spoke.

"This is Jenny from 31 flavours, if you can name 31 ice cream flavours in 31 seconds you win 31 thousand pounds, ready go!" Paul said this very quickly in a high-pitched voice, it was almost hard to catch.

"I know it's you, Paul," Maxwell chuckled.

"You're almost out of time!" Paul gasped. "Twenty-five seconds! Hurry!"

"Paul-"

"Twenty-two seconds!"

"Did John put you up to this?" Maxwell asked through giggles.

Paul closed his mouth before he spat out how much time Maxwell had left. He glanced at his friends. They nodded.

"Not exactly," Paul finally replied. "We're playing truth or dare."

"John's idea?" Maxwell inquired.

"Maybe," John smirked.

"Ringo dared me to call you," Paul explained.

"Clever idea, Rings," Maxwell said.

"Thank you!" Ringo smiled, proud of himself.

"I'd love to chat, lads, but I have an emergency," Maxwell said.

"Oh? What is it?"

"Some psychopathic murderer named Mitch is on the loose, so I figured I should stop him with my hammer," Maxwell responded. (I had to. I couldn't resist. Don't judge XD.)

"Well, good luck with that," George spoke up.

"Thanks, bud. Bye, lads."

Once Paul hung up, Ringo said, "Mitch, eh? He sounds familiar..."

"I'm sure it's nothing," John waved it off.

"Yeah?"

"Sure. I mean, Maxwell can handle it. His hammer's just the thing."

"True..."

Thanks to DayTripper1234 for George's dare! Also, guys, I think I'm just gonna make this story ten chapters, so two more chapters and it'll be done. DON'T HATE ME!!!! *hides in corner*