The studio was quiet, as usual. Charlie Watts had just finished adjusting his drums and had retreated to the lounge to enjoy a cup of tea. The typically chaotic atmosphere the Rolling Stones often stirred was, surprisingly, absent… until you and Mick decided to try out your "brilliant" idea of bringing paintball markers into the studio.

Laughing like mischievous kids, you and Mick had turned the place into an improvised battlefield between the instruments and amplifiers, running around as paintballs flew in every direction. Mick, with his endless agility, leaped over the sofa, dodging your shots. “Aim better, darling!” he shouted teasingly as he fired a shot that narrowly missed an expensive microphone.

The fun was at its peak until a perfectly aimed paintball hit one of Charlie’s drums, leaving a bright green stain on the pristine white surface.

The sound of the impact was followed by an abrupt silence. Mick stopped laughing, staring at you with wide eyes. “Oh, no…” he murmured, dropping his marker as if it were the weapon of a crime.

At that moment, Charlie walked into the studio, tea cup in hand, his calm eyes taking in the scene: paint splattered everywhere, you and Mick frozen in guilty poses, and his drumhis precious drum ruined.

Charlie didn’t say anything at first. He simply took a sip of tea, letting the charged silence do the work. Finally, with that serene voice of his, more intimidating than any shout, he said:

“Is this your way of innovating rock and roll, or were you just looking for an excuse to get kicked out of the studio?”

“Charlie, this… this was an accident,” you tried to explain, pointing at Mick. “He started it!”

“Me?” Mick raised his hands. “It was their idea!”