“Can he play the bass guitar?” John asked.

“No, but look at him,” George said.

William Shears Campbell looked at the two rock stars. He never thought winning the look-alike contest would have led to this.

“What happened?” Billy Shears asked. “Why is everyone talking as if I’m not here?”

“We can teach him bass guitar,” George said. “He even does sound a lot like Paul, thats a good start.”

“Just a little bit of the ol’ under the knife to make it perfect and he’ll look just like him.”

“No one must ever know,” George said. “Ever. No clues. No backwards secret messages.”

“Don’t worry,” John said with a mischevious smile.

“Give it go then,” John said. “Sing a line with me-”

“Why?” Billy asked. “I only won a look-alike contest. They said there would be a prize.”

“He really doesn’t know,” said George.

The two rock stars turned to face the young man.

“There was an accident,” John said. “He hadn’t noticed that the lights had changed. Wednesday morning at five a.m. as the day began, I buried Paul.”

“That’s crazy,” Billy said.

“Is it?” John said. “I say the world is crazy, but all the more reason why the show must go on. Welcome to the band, Billy. Paul is dead, miss him, miss him.”

END

* Comemorating the recent 40th anniversary of The White Album.