However, that would be unnecessary, as George sluggishly pulled the shirt off, exposing his body. And what a sight it was. Paul saw it yesterday, but he still gaped like it was something foreign. It fact, it looked even bigger than before.... Are you stupid? There’s no way it could have grown in size. George didn’t eat enough yesterday to gain anything. That is, if he didn’t eat after they went to bed. But even if he did, the idea was still a little preposterous. Although it was most likely a trick of the light, Paul thought, George’s stomach looked larger. It swelled outward, curving ever so slightly down over his waistband. It looked discolored, grey and veiny, in contrast with his flushed, gaunt cheeks. And that’s when it hit Paul. Gaunt cheeks. George’s gut was bloated and heavy, but the rest of him… wasn’t. His face, his arms, they were all still rail-thin, maybe even skinnier than he remembered. If his stomach was all fat, then the rest of his body should match. Paul watched as the doctor listened to the inner workings of George’s body. Frankly, he was a bit scared for George now. He had never seen any illness that looked like this, and so George’s health being in critical danger was a very real possibility. As fear poured into Paul, he scanned the doctor as he worked. The doctor, whose name was Dr. Wilson, seemed fairly calm until he held the stethoscope to George’s back, instructing him to breathe deeply. George did as told, but his breathing was shallow, as if he genuinely struggled with the task. The doctor noted it down, then shifted his attention to his stomach. Anxiety flared up in Paul when he saw a confused expression cross the doctor’s face. If the medical professional in the room didn’t know what was going on, then something was seriously wrong. Ringo was observing the whole scene as well and asked: “What’s wrong?”