Paul heard light footsteps coming up to the room. Probably George or Ringo, he thought, and decided to take them down as well.
Unfortunately for Paul, it wasn’t George or Ringo, but the Queen. Paul had no idea that he was tackling a bird until he yanked at the poor woman’s hair in an effort to remove her ‘wig’.
"OWWW!" the Queen shrieked.
"Whoops, sorry, wrong take," said Paul, getting off the woman and grabbing the King by the legs as he tried to walk out the door.
"PAUL! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" screamed the King.
Paul let go of the King’s legs. "If you’re not John, then who the hell are you?"
The King looked mystified. "John? Who? What? You don’t remember? You’re my son, Prince Paul the First. And this is your mother," he said, indicating the Queen, trying to jolt his son out of amnesia.
"You’re not me dad," said Paul, rather pointedly. "And I know she’s not me mum," he continued, pointing at the Queen, who looked distressed at the prospect that her son couldn't even remember who his own parents were.
The King began staring at Paul the way that a father always does when he wants to disown his son. But the kind Queen knelt down and caressed his face gently. "Are you feeling alright, Paul? You're not ill again, are you? We've got the ball tomorrow night, we can't have that..."