Old Fred: Now whatever you do, don't touch that button!
Ringo: This button?
[presses the button and is ejected]
Ringo: Aaaahhhhh!
Old Fred: That was the panic button.
Paul: Poor Ringo.
George: Poor lad.
Paul: Never did no harm to no one.
John: Hey, lads, now that Ringo's gone, what do we do?
Old Fred: Learn to sing trios.
Paul: Naw, let's save the poor devil.