"Georgie, c'mon gimmee a ciggie, I'm all out."
"How can you ever be out of ciggies when all you do is take them off me, take them off Ringo, take them off John. Buy yer own, you skinflint!"
"Ritchie, gimme a ciggie, I'm all out."
"Geo is right. You need to buy your own. Get one off John, then, like you do."
"John's not here. And he's cut me off. Says I'm smoking too much and that I'm orally fixated, besides."
"Well, that's true enough. If you're not sucking on a cigarette, you're bitin' on your fingers, or sucking on them, or putting anything else you can find in your mouth."
"Shurrup, Georgie, you're one to talk the way you're always shoving food in your gob."
"Food is food. It's not fingers. It's unsanitary what you do..."
"He's right, Paulie. Maybe all the stomach trouble you have is because you'll put anything in your mouth, anytime."
"Not helpful, Ritchie..."
"Aye, but he's right, you know, you're kind of a tramp, aren't ya? Not that there's anything wrong with that. You're a cute tramp. Not sure why John should mind that you're orally fixated, though..."
Paul took a carnation from his lapel and slipped it into his mouth, batting his eyes at Harrison.
"Don't waste that move on me, son. Lennon should be here soon."
"Don't think he'll have ciggies for you, though," Ringo added, laughing as Paul turned to him, flower still in mouth. "You ask me, he wants you craving a smoke and looking for a chance to put anything in your mouth, if there are no ciggies about. Not so much flowers, though."
Knowing Ringo was probably right, Paul removed the flower. But he still looked adorable.