Narrator: Once Upon a Time
— or maybe twice — there was an unearthly paradise called Pepperland. Eighty thousand leagues beneath the sea it lay. ...Or "lie"; I'm not too sure.
Woe... is... me. [embarrassed laugh] [awkward pause]
...Liverpool can be a lonely place on a Saturday night — and this is only Thursday morning. [thinks]
Compared with my
life, Eleanor Rigby's was a gay mad whirl. [out loud]
Nothin' ever 'appens to me. [thinks]
I feel like an old splintered drumstick. [out loud]
I'd jump into the River Mersey, but it looks like rain. [chuckles]
...Nothin' ever 'appens to me.
I've got a hole in me pocket.
Oh yeah, I used to go out with his sister. Fred:
His sister? Ringo:
. Hey, what would happen if I pulled this leever
You mustn't do that! Ringo:
Can't help it, I'm a born Leever-pooler
Chief Blue Meanie: What?!
The Glove is losing his touch!
By Neptune's knickerbockers! She's puttered out. John:
Well, maybe we should call a road service. Paul:
Can't, no road. Ringo:
And we're not sub... scribers. George, Paul, and John: Sub-scribers, oogh.
Maybe time's goin' on strike. Paul:
What for? George:
Shorter hours. Ringo:
I don't blame it. It must be very tiring being time, mustn't it? All:
Well, it's a 24-hour day, innit? John:
You surprise me, Ringo. Ringo:
Dealing in abstracts.
There's a school of whales! George:
They look a bit old
for school. Paul:
University, then. Ringo:
University of W(h)ales? John:
Well, they look like dropouts to me.
[After retrieving Ringo from the "Injun" attack in the Sea of Monsters] John:
How was it Ringo? Ringo:
Pepperland! A bit salty around the edges.
What day is it? Ringo:
Then George'll be here.
Well, lads, what d'yer think? John:
Well, I think that... Fred:
Remember, there will be rough seas ahead. What d'yer think? Paul:
Well, then, erm... Fred:
Pounding, overwhelming waves! What d'yer think of that, eh? George:
Well, I think that... Ringo:
As a matter of fact, I— All Beatles:
I think... Fred:
Well? All Beatles:
I've forgotten! Fred:
Right, then, let's get this vessel all shipshape. George:
I kinda like the way it is: Submarine-shaped.
Hey, that's a funny place to leave a goldfish bowl. [The Fab Four wander off] [Cut to the Fab Four near the giant ball] John:
In Pepperland, all things are possible. Paul:
It's not a goldfish bowl. George:
Just a big glass bowl, and— Paul:
Yeah, it's blue
Must be from Kentucky. [Paul knocks on the glass, then the band appear] John:
Hey, there's something inside. Ringo:
Four fellas. George:
What are they doing there? Paul:
They're not having a ball. That's for sure. Ringo:
It can't be! Paul:
It's us! John:
But we're here. Paul:
It's Sgt. Pepper's— Ringo:
The resemblance is truly striking. John:
If I could come in here, I think the theory put forward by Einstein— [Ringo holds his ears in a "Here we go again!" manner; George holds his nose in disgust] Paul: [sings to himself]
Any old Ein Any old Ein / Any any any old Einstein... John: [continuing uninterrupted]
—could well be applied here. The people in the ball are obviously extensions of our own personality, suspended as it were in time, frozen in space according to the now-famous theory of relativity— George:
—which briefly explained, is simply a matter of taking two eggs— George:
—beating lightly, adding a little salt and pepper according to the taste— George: JOHN!!! John:
Yes, George? George:
How do we get them out? John:
Break the glass. [The remaining three, having tried this while John was talking, shrug helplessly] Paul:
We can't. George:
It's Beatle-proof. John: Nothing
is Beatle-proof. Paul:
Hey, have you got your drumsticks with yer? A drum break might shatter it! Ringo:
No, I haven't. George:
Have a look in your pocket. Ringo:
Hey, I've got a hole in me pocket
! Here, I wonder if— [He puts the hole on the ball, letting out smoke]
Yeah, it still works. George:
Ringo, we take back all we said. John:
You're a genius. Paul:
Sheer genius. Ringo:
I know, I know, I know. Like color telly. John:
Like crystal. Paul:
Hey, they're decanting.
I must complete my bust, two novels, finish my blueprints, begin my Beguine. John:
Hey, Jeremy, must you always talk in rhyme? Boob:
If I spoke prose, you'd all find out I don't know what I talk about!
(Trying to pronounce 'Ph.D.') Ffffffffffffud
Ringo: First time I saw that 'Nowhere Man' .... That 'nobody'..... I knew he was Somebody.
John: You were right.