Two, Four, Six, Eight--Who Does Paul Appreciate?

I like to think this song was written by Paul for Ringo and that he was so drunk he forgot there were four Beatles and thought he was just seeing double.

Which math doesn't really work, but you'll kindly suspend your disbelief when you listen to the song and picture a drunk P. McCartney trying to keep his little R. Starr to himself--all of this magic with two other dumbfounded scuttle-bugs following in hot pursuit, trying to prove that they too exist and are not, in fact, chopped liver.

Beatle pate. How tasty; how rare.