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: [realizing the ring is gone
] The ring! Ahme
: The ring! Bhuta
: Has nobody looked in the wash basin?
[Offering gold to Paul
: Hey, Be-a-tle! How about this, eh? Shufty gold! All of it pure gold in easy-to-handle denominational nuggets. Not marked, not a mark on 'em, eh? Paul
: No, I hate them. Ahme
: No! Paul
: I I do! I mean, they make your fingers go green. Ahme
: It is not the Beatle with the ring, he. Paul
: Aren't I? Ahme
: No unfortunately!
[laughs as Paul gives her a dirty look
: He has three hours to live. Paul
: Say no more. Ahme
: I can say no more.
: Hold! Release him or I shoot, and I am a dead-eye shot, shooting.
: [George has just passed out from seeing the size of Ahme's hypodermic needle
] Now see what you've done with your filthy Eastern ways! Ahme
: No! It is Clang, the high priest, who is filthy in his Eastern ways. John
: How do we know you're not just as filthy, and sent by him to nick the ring by being filthy when you've lulled us with your filthy Eastern ways? Paul
: What filthy ways are these?
: [to camera
] I am not what I seem.
: [to Ringo, holding a syringe
] This will make your finger shrink. Be brave. John
: Don't look. Ahme
: [into the camera
] Alas, if he were brave, this would not be necessary.
: [Pulls out a shot
] I have here.