A Hard Day's Night Page #6

RINGO:

Aye, well, so have we.

He disappears behind his paper before the BOYS can say another

word.

RINGO pulls a face at the raised paper and switches on his

portable radio. A pop number is playing.

JOHNSON puts down his paper firmly.

JOHNSON:

And we'll have that thing off as

well, thank you.

RINGO:

But I...

JOHNSON leans over and switches it off.

JOHNSON:

An elementary knowledge of the Railway

Acts would tell you I'm perfectly

within my rights.

He smiles frostily.

PAUL:

Yeah, but we want to hear it and

there's more of us than you. We're a

community, like, a majority vote. Up

the workers and all that stuff!

JOHNSON:

Then I suggest you take that damned

thing into the corridor or some other

part of the train where you obviously

belong.

JOHN:

(leaning forward to

him)

Gie's a kiss!

PAUL:

Shurrup! Look, Mister, we've paid

for our seats too, you know.

JOHNSON:

I travel on this train regularly,

twice a week.

JOHN:

Knock it off, Paul, y' can't win

with his sort. After all, it's his

train, isn't it, Mister?

JOHNSON:

And don't you take that tone with

me, young man!

GEORGE:

But...

JOHNSON:

(accusingly)

I fought the war for your sort.

RINGO:

Bet you're sorry you won!

JOHNSON:

I'll call the guard!

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