#1: Make it illegal for anyone – AN. Y. ONE. – to record, remodel, revamp, remix or in any other way f*** with any original song ever recorded by either the Beatles, as a group, or John, Paul, George or Ringo separately, effective immediately. Any projects currently “in the works” must be immediately abandoned and the masters burned or otherwise disposed of. All recordings made prior to this edict are now illegal to be played on any radio station with the following exception. A national radio station will be set up which will play nothing but these remakes, followed immediately by the original version. The remakes will be prefaced by a bumper that identifies them as the “sucky version” and the originals will be i.d.’ed as the “good version.” (Alternately they may be referred to as “the crime against humanity” and “the one true way,” respectively.) The station must be heavily promoted with the disclaimer: “Listening to this radio station could cause nausea, excessive uncontrollable twitching, the urge run over your radio with a Humvee, nightmares, or the desire to ram an ice pick into one’s eardrums.”
Severe fines and other assorted punishments will be swiftly dealt to those who do not follow the letter of the law.
#2: There shall be two exceptions to the above rule: Paul and Ringo may sing or record any song that has ever been written at any time they chose to do so. The tariff imposed for this privilege will be an annual visit made by each to me, the Queen. Private concerts must be performed during the visits in odd-numbered years but the even-numbered years may consist of simply dinner and conversation. No wives will be allowed in attendance.
#3: Anyone spreading rumours about why I have decreed no wives may be in attendance will be roundly upbraided because it’s not what you think, you perverts. While, being the Queen of the Freakin’ Universe, I could legally require them to do all manner of things, it’s really only because I want to have a real heart-to-heart conversation with them with no distractions or interruptions.
#4: I want salt bagels and potato knishes and I want them NOW. Someone better find me a damned delicatessen baker for my staff or heads are going to roll.