BILL & TED characters are trademarks of Nelson 1991 Inc. The motion picture BILL & TED'S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE & © 1989 Nelson Films Inc. All Rights Reserved. The motion picture BILL & TED'S BOGUS JOURNEY © 1991 Orion Pictures Corporation. All Rights Reserved.
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Glancing at the navigational monitor, Xela Seveer noted the presence of several masses which seemed to be circling a decent sized star only a few lights years to their left. The amount of debris, mineral and ice in this configuration told him it had probably been there for at least several hundred million years, and this gave him hope. He gave the steering rod a hard turn and the monstrous sized ship veered in a wide curve and headed for the galaxy.
A worried tapping on his door distracted him. "Enter," he called out.
The door slid upwards and the obviously nervous figure of the ship's cook stepped forward. "Seveer, um.... I hate to keep asking, but...."
"I've located what looks like a fairly well-formed galaxy and we're heading there now. Shouldn't take more than twenty miblooms to reach some of the planets."
The chef let out an obvious sigh of relief. "Thank Noslen! I was beginning to think we were all going to end up as main courses! Sirch is becoming more agitated with every passing mibloom! We must find something soon!"
"After devouring all of those.... what did you call them?"
"Reldases. Too bad they were so small. It took all night to prepare four hundred for an adequate meal. And their civilization was advancing so nicely, too."
"They should have spent more time overpopulating and less time with scientific advances if they wanted to assure their continued existence!" Xela sneered, but it wasn't a sincere statement. He felt just as bad that the advances of an entire society had to grind to a halt because of what everyone felt to be a pointless, continuous quest. "Do you ever wonder what's happening back home?"
"Only all the time. But we must continue on, otherwise . . . . "
"I know, I know." The crew had given up complaining long ago.
"Any signs of life yet?"
"I'm opening the communication lines now. We'll know soon," Xela assured the still worried chef as their vessel entered the outer stretches of the unfamiliar galaxy.
While a vast majority of the galaxy was also unfamiliar territory to the two exuberant dudes from San Dimas known as Bill S. Preston, Esq. and Ted "Theodore" Logan, Earth was most familiar to them. At this point, however, it was safer to say Earth was most familiar with them, as their band, Wyld Stallyns, had suddenly become the most famous rock band of all time; loved and revered the world over. This fact could be nerve-wracking at times, such as this very moment as they waited in the wings of a large stage in the middle of New York's Central Park, unable to ignore the excited ravings of the two million New Yorkers packed into the park and surrounding buildings.
"This is most humbling, Ted my friend," Bill sighed nervously. "So many people wanting to see us! This whole fame thing is happening so fast!"
"I agree, Bill, my friend," Ted replied, tuning his guitar. "I find it helps not to think about the six billion others gathered around their television sets for the worldwide telecast."
"We could try picturing them in their underwear," Bill suggested hopefully.
Ted gave him an unsure glance. "That would take up too much brain capacity, and we need every ounce to give our audience a most triumphant concert!"
Bill nodded. "Guess we'd better get used to it, dude. Being the saviors of all mankind for generations to come does carry a little responsibility."
Joanna and Elizabeth approached Bill & Ted from behind. "How does it look?" Joanna asked Bill.
"Most daunting, but I think it'll be okay," Bill sighed.
"I know it will." Joanna kissed Bill and walked past him toward her drum set.
"Just be yourselves," Elizabeth added with a smile. "That's what the audience wants to see." She kissed Ted and headed for her keyboards.
Bill & Ted surveyed the stage, which was hidden from the audience by a large curtain. As the girls took their place, Good Robot Bill & Ted practiced some steps to a beat Stations were banging out on their bongos. Death was busy spinning his bass, running over his latest rap in his head.
Turning to each other, Bill & Ted smiled broadly. "This will undoubtedly be a most triumphant show!" Bill said confidently.
"Let's do it!" Ted agreed, and they motioned to the stage hands to start the show. A barrage of colored lights flooded the stage as the curtain rose, revealing an endless sea happily screaming fans beyond, bright white lights flashing wildly amongst them. The band started playing, and after a few anxious moments an announcer broke in "Babes and dudes . . . here they are . . . the most excellent musicians in the annals of history . . . Bill S. Preston, Esq. and Ted "Theodore" Logan! Wyld Stallyns!"
Several TV cameras rolled in closer as the crowd incredibly grew even louder than before, as Bill & Ted bounded onstage with their guitars. All their fears and worries disappeared as they started playing, and they felt completely at ease with millions of eyes watching them.
Xela locked the controls of the huge ship in the cruise setting and made his way to the Royal Recreation Room where he was certain he would find Sirch. He had located the planet which seemed to contain the most variety of edible life forms as being the third one from the star. Since this area of the galaxy was mostly uncharted, he had no idea what kind of life forms to expect or whether or not they were intelligently advanced, but he suspected they may be at least somewhat so, as he had noted radio and telecommunication waves coming from somewhere below.
Stepping closer to the door, which slid up diagonally as he approached, Xela entered the Rec Room to find Sirch sprawled on a plush divan excitedly watching a large-screen monitor hovering above. As Xela could have guessed, Sirch had already adjusted the set to pick up transmissions from the planet which they had discovered.
"Now . . . I add the white wine to the chicken, and let that cook in an oven set at 350º for approximately ninety minutes . . . " the creature on the screen was explaining.
"I see you are already scanning this planet's transmissions for possibilities," Xela said without much enthusiasm.
Sirch hushed Xela impatiently, and continued to stare at the screen, drool already forming around his lips. "Look at that . . . so plump and round! Mmmmm . . . I think we have found a very suitable planet for my next meal."
"So, have you decided upon . . . that?" Xela asked worriedly, eyeing the strange creature who was now drinking something from a bottle.
"I'm Julia Child and bon appetit!" the creature on the screen cooed.
"I haven't had a chance to fully scan the transmissions of this planet, so I have no idea what their ideal is. As you well know, I want only the best."
Xela didn't answer, but he did well know it. Ever since Sirch had gotten into his "gourmet phase", he had become determined to try every delicacy in the entire universe, or as close as he could get to it, in search of the perfect meal. It had become a real chore for his staff, as Sirch had refused to ever eat the same meal twice. Eventually they had to point out to Sirch that to continue feeding his obsession he would have to leave his home planet and travel the universe in search of new and exotic dishes. Much to their dismay, rather than discouraging their leader from such a foolish expedition, they had inadvertently fueled his fire and he wholeheartedly ordered them to arrange it. So for the past 17 filbons they had been travelling throughout the universe appeasing their master's appetite.
Sirch was adjusting the set to pick up different transmission. He stopped at an interesting scene of a huge mob of cheering, screaming creatures of all shapes and sizes crowded around a small square of light in the middle. "Mmmmm . . . look at them all! I wonder how big they are?"
Xela walked to an instrument panel on the wall and accessed the main computer. "About half our size, sir," he reported.
"Hmmmm . . . a shame. So many to choose from! How will I ever know which would be the prime choices?"
All at once a voice blasted from the monitor. "And there you have it . . . what is destined to be remembered as THE concert of the millennium! Wyld Stallyns have given a stellar performance, the best of their careers. Yes, indeed, there is no doubt that Bill S. Preston, Esq. and Ted "Theodore" Logan have well established themselves as the most incredible humans on the face of the Earth!"
Sirch leaned forward excitedly as the cameras focused in on the two sweating rock stars, now waving and smiling at their grateful audience. They encouraged their band members to also step forward and take their bows, but Sirch was only paying attention to the two.
"Xela . . . . "
"Yes, sir," Xela sighed, turning to head back to the helm. "I'll have them located and brought aboard right away."
Exiting the stage, Bill and Ted were immediately surrounded by a huge amount of reporters, news crews, well-wishers and fans, and while they tried to be courteous all they really wanted at that point was to sit down to relax. The concert had been incredible, but also extremely tiring. And now it seemed that everyone in the world wanted an exclusive audience with them.
It had been decided that after the show the princess babes would be escorted by Death (whom people were still a bit nervous to approach) to a limousine and shuttled out of the area so they could get back to the hotel and relieve Missy from her babysitting duties. Bill & Ted would divert the attention of the media long enough for them to escape. The plan had worked, and after slowly making their way through the admiring crowds the dudes finally managed to escape to the sanctuary of their trailer.
"Whoa . . . " Ted sighed, flopping down onto the couch. "That was a most unprecedented concert, Bill! I am totally wiped out."
"Most definitely," Bill agreed, grabbing a couple of sodas from the small icebox in the kitchen area and carrying them over where he also sat on the couch. He handed one to Ted before popping his own open.
"And we've got a recording session tomorrow," Ted reminded Bill.
"And all those interviews, too," Bill added.
"Not to mention that upcoming Grand Canyon concert we're supposed to do."
"Yeah," Bill sighed, gulping down a large portion of his soda before continuing. "At least we finally convinced them not to show that only on Pay-Per-View."
Ted sipped his soda slowly, thinking. "That's a lotta stuff to do."
"Yah," Bill agreed. "Hey, no one said being the saviors of a future society would be easy, dude."
"I know," Ted said sincerely. "I just wish we had a chance to rest before we totally burn out. We've been going nonstop for three weeks straight."
"Yah, maybe we should talk to someone about letting us have a day off to relax sometime," Bill agreed.
Little did the dudes know that miles above them a very frustrated navigational engineer was pinpointing their exact location and entering the coordinates into a very advanced transporter. He finished tapping in the correct figures and pressed his hand (or what could conceivably be called a hand) onto a flat panel and the machine hummed to life.
Bill was about to get up and ask Ted if he wanted another soda when a strange feeling came over him. It was like his whole body suddenly became tingly. He looked over to Ted and was startled to see Ted looked almost . . . transparent. Ted was mirroring Bill's look of surprise as they dropped their sodas and suddenly the trailer around them disappeared, replaced by blackness, then a strange looking place that was completely new to them.
"Whoa," Ted finally managed to gasp. "Bill . . . what happened?"
"I dunno, Ted," Bill answered, looking around nervously. "I wonder what was in those drinks!"
"You okay?" Ted asked worriedly.
Bill patted himself as if to make sure he was all there. "Yah. You?"
"I feel okay, but . . . where are we?"
They both looked around them, not attempting to move. They were seated in a large black space which opened up to a room decorated by flashing lights, oddly textured walls and a curved, shiny ceiling. The color of the room was almost completely a brick red, and the atmosphere was humid and sticky. Ticking and beeping sounds emanated all around them.
"I dunno, Ted," Bill finally answered, "But wherever it is, it isn't going to make the cover of Better Homes & Gardens any time soon."
Suddenly a bulky figure stepped in front of the space and peered in at them. Not knowing what else to do, Bill and Ted peered back.
"What is that?" Ted asked.
"I dunno, but I don't think we're in Central Park any more . . . " Bill stated, then rethought the statement. "Then again . . . ."
The creature lifted a small box and aimed it at Bill & Ted, moving it back and forth, then checking a readout on the front of it. It seemed satisfied with what it saw and set the box aside, standing in front of the space as if trying to decide what to do next.
"How's it goin', strange-looking dude?" Ted asked cheerfully.
The creature began jabbering in a complete indiscernible language, motioning for them to get out of the space. Not wanting to be troubleseome, Bill & Ted climbed out of the space and stood next to the creature, waiting to see what would happen next. The creature eyed them up and down, then turned and walked away. After a few steps it stopped and looked back to them, as if waiting for them to follow.
Shrugging to one another, Bill & Ted followed the creature to a wall where a door opened and they exited the strange room into a bright hallway. They walked for a while down this plain white hallway without doors which curved slightly all along its length. Finally the monotony of the white was broken up by a large black square on one wall. The creature continued past it, but Bill and Ted stopped.
"Hey, this is a really cool poster of the Earth," Ted commented. "It's like in 3-D and everything! Where'd you get it?"
Bill eyed the square worriedly, then squinted more closely at the "poster" as realization finally sank in. "Ted . . . that's not a poster of the Earth. That is Earth!"
Ted eyed it more closely and realized Bill was right . . . this was a window, not a poster. "Whoa . . . where are we??"
"I don't know, Ted, but we'd better keep following this dude if we want any answers."
They hurried to catch up with the creature, who was waiting for them. They continued on some distance until the creature suddenly stopped and turned to the wall. Amazingly another door opened up and they stepped inside.
The room they entered was nothing like the previous room. This was a huge, bright room with tables and odd equipment throughout. At the end of the room another creature which looked somewhat like the first creature they had met, yet different enough to be able to tell the two apart, approached them.
"So, is this what you brought for me to work with?" the chef asked with interest.
"This is it. I don't know what you'll be able to do with them, but try to whip up something fast. Sirch is getting hungry."
Bill and Ted watched as the two creatures spoke to each other. "I don't get it," Ted finally said, "On Star Trek everyone in the universe speaks normal English."
"Yah, everyone except William Shatner," Bill added.
"So how come these guys don't speak English?"
Bill thought about this a moment. "Maybe they've never seen Star Trek."
Bill and Ted eyed each other sadly. "Bogus!"
"I'll see what I can do," the chef told Xela, and with that Xela turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.
The chef circled Bill & Ted, eyeing them curiously with his five eyes as he pawed them, pinching their arms and making clicking noises.
"So, what's the rub, dude?" Bill asked.
"Yah, why'd you bring us up here?" Ted asked.
The creature didn't answer them, but motioned for them to stay put. They stood obediently as they watched their host walk to a large, round container, about six feet across, set into the floor. He made some adjustments to a nearby panel and the container opened to reveal water inside. After a few more adjustments, the dudes could see the water inside the container starting to bubble.
"Whoa, I get it, Ted! These alien-type dudes must've somehow heard our conversation about wanting to get away for a rest."
"What do you mean?" Ted asked.
"Look at this place . . . the tables, the steam over there, that thing. Isn't it obvious?" Seeing it wasn't to Ted, Bill continued. "This is a health spa! These aliens are going to make sure we get some rest and relaxation!"
"Whoa, excellent!" Ted exclaimed, and the pair performed an exuberant air guitar duet.
Joanna pulled out the tray of the highchair and set it aside, then reached down to lift Little Ted out of the seat and, after adjusting the towel across her shoulder, settled the baby up against her and started patting his back gently, moving into the living room part of the suite as she did so. Elizabeth was sitting on the couch, surfing the channels on the television set while Death changed Little Bill on the bed behind them. All of the stations seemed to be running a live telecast of the commotion taking place in Central Park.
"So far Bill & Ted have remained secluded in their trailer, and it doesn't look like this crowd is going to disperse any time soon . . . " Mike Wallace was reporting. "At this rate, no one has been able to make contact with these two great ones. Will they finally satisfy this enthusiastic crowd and make an appearance? Only time will tell. And we'll remain here, live, to bring it to you."
"Those poor boys," Elizabeth sighed, turning down the sound on the TV.
"Dose poor boys?" Death exclaimed quietly, quickly dropping the dirty diaper into a plastic bag.
"With all those people around, they probably aren't getting much rest," Joanna sighed, sitting next to Elizabeth. "They'll never be able to sneak out of there."
"Vat is dat?" Death asked suddenly.
"What?" asked Elizabeth.
Death pointed to the television. "Dat. It looks like dere is some breaking news."
Elizabeth turned up the volume as Mike Wallace pressed a finger to his ear. "Yes . . . I'm just getting word now . . . it seems that Bill & Ted are not . . . I repeat . . . not in their trailer. This discovery was made just a few minutes ago. It is unclear how they could have sneaked out of their trailer, as it was completely surrounded by crowds and while hundreds witnessed them entering, no one witnessed their departure. Perhaps our correspondent can shed some light on this subject?"
The picture changed to one of a live remote showing a reporter standing amidst the busy crowds. "Well, Mike, speculation has it that Bill & Ted may have planned for this bombardment before the show, and devised a trap door of some kind beneath their trailer for just this reason. This cannot be confirmed right now, but it seems the most likely explanation."
Joanna and Elizabeth exchanged worried glances. "What trap door?" they both sighed.
Bill and Ted let out deep sighs as they sunk down further into the steaming water until their chins rested on the slightly bubbling surface.
"This is so totally non-heinous," Ted said happily.
"Yah!" Bill agreed. "These aliens have a way cool hot tub."
"But what's all this stuff they threw in here with us?" Ted asked, lifted up what looked like some soggy broccoli and motioning to some floating brown cubes.
"Ted, don't you know anything? This is a health spa! Those are probably just some herbs and stuff, you know, vitamins and things. Good for the skin."
The chef walked over to the pot and looked to see how his meal was coming along. He was surprised that his subjects were so willing to cooperate, stripping down to only one piece of clothing around their midsections and jumping right into his soup mixture. He wished all of these "delicacies" were so easy to prepare.
The chef picked up a large, wooden paddle and dipped it in between the two subjects, stirring slowly.
"Whoa, excellent!" Bill smiled. "A Jacuzzi!"
"Stir faster, dude!" Ted encouraged the alien.
The chef stirred a little longer, but was unhappy with how long it was taking the water to boil. He pulled the paddle out and grunted, moving to a panel and pressing some buttons to make sure he had the temperature settings right.
"What do you suppose the problem is?" Ted asked Bill.
"Most probably he's trying to get the jet spray thing to work."
"Yah, it just isn't the same without the bubbles," Ted agreed.
"I once stayed at a hotel with a jacuzzi," Bill said, climbing up and out of the water. "I'll bet I can figure out what the problem is."
"I'll help, too," Ted offered, climbing out after Bill. They walked past the chef, who was too busy fussing with the controls to notice them, and approached another panel where Bill began studying the buttons, trying to figure out which controlled the bubble jet spray.
Satisfied that the temperature was correct, the chef turned back to the pot and was surprised to see his subjects were no longer in sight. He wondered if finally it had gotten warm enough that they had passed out and gone under. He picked up the paddle and walked back to the pot, not noticing that Bill & Ted were standing behind him.
"This must be it," Bill said, turning a dial on the panel he was studying.
The chef poked into the water with the paddle and was surprised to find his delicacies were gone. He turned around and saw Bill & Ted messing with the controls across the room, but before he could move toward them the pot quickly raised up out of its floor setting and tilted in his direction, spilling the entire hot contents onto the unsuspecting chef's head.
"Whoa, Bill," Ted gasped, seeing what had happened. "Guess that's it for the jacuzzi. The alien health spa director dude just drained it."
"That's okay, Ted," Bill assured his friend. "My hands were starting to get pruney anyway."
The chef wiped the Nosetham stock out his eyes and moaned, then lifted a dangling piece of uneak from atop his hat and tossed it aside. There went the last of his soup fixings. He'd have to figure out another way to prepare Sirch's dinner.
"No, I told you before. We do not want to speak with anyone right now. No comment." Joanna hung up the phone and then picked it up again, dialing "0". "Yes, this is room 1570. Yes, that's right. Would you please not ring any more reporters through to us? Thank you."
"Don't you think we should make some kind of statement to the press?" Elizabeth asked worriedly.
"And cause a national panic?" Joanne asked incredulously. "No, I do not think that would be wise."
"You're right," Elizabeth agreed. "We don't know anything for sure yet. They could have sneaked out of the trailer and taken refuge somewhere. They probably didn't want to lead the masses of media here to us is all."
Joanna and Elizabeth eyed each other worriedly, then continued pacing.
"Try to look at ze bright side," Death encouraged them, bouncing the babies, one on each knee.
"And what would that be?" Joanna asked as the girls stopped pacing to look at him.
Death didn't have an immediate answer, and thought for a moment. Finally he stammered, "Vell . . . zey . . . zey aren't dead! I can tell you dat for sure!"
The girls eyed each other with little enthusiasm and continued their pacing.
The chef checked the readout on the steam cooker and gurgled impatiently. Xela had already visited once to let him know Sirch was getting impatient. He had already outlined some ideas for how to serve his latest creation, now he just had to wait for them to get done.
Sighing, he decided it was time he at least checked on them. He pressed a panel and the large door of the steam cooker rolled upward, revealing Bill & Ted sitting inside, far from cooked and looking quite relaxed.
"Excellent spa!" Bill said happily to the alien, "but we could use a little more water on the rocks, dude."
The chef poked at Ted's arm questioningly. "Isn't it great? My pores have totally opened up!" Ted announced.
Grunting, the chef realized this wasn't going to work. They just weren't getting done fast enough! He adjusted some switches and pushed a button automatically which moved the pan that his subjects were sitting in out of the steam cooker. He decided that regardless of how tough they ended up he would just have to roast them.
Bill & Ted wiped the perspiration from themselves with some nearby dishcloths (which they mistook for towels) as the alien busied himself at a large container. A moment later the tub was wheeled over to them and they watched curiously as the alien moved to the other side of it, flipping a switch and pushing, which caused the steaming container to tip over towards them. The next thing they knew, a warm flood of thick, brown fluid was poured over top of them.
"Whoa! What is this?" Ted asked, lifting his arms out of the muck.
"Don't you know anything about health spas?" asked Bill. "This is what is called a mud bath!"
"Ewwww, most unhygienic. What's it for?" asked Ted.
"It's like the kind of mud packs women put on their faces, but this one goes all over," Bill explained.
"A girlie thing? I thought girls didn't like to play in mud."
"This isn't playing . . . it's upper class! Very chic! All the rich folks do it."
"Yeah, well all the rich folks eat snails, too, dude," Ted sneered. "Although I must admit, I do like the way it squishes between my toes."
The chef watched in amazement as his subjects obligingly smeared the gravy over themselves. In all the galaxies they had visited he'd never encountered such cooperative food before. He turned to a large control panel and began flipping switches, and a huge door on the far end of the room slid open, revealing a large, deep pre-heated oven, its sides glowing red with heat.
Bill and Ted watched this with interest. "Not bad! They even have a tanning salon built in here!" Ted said eagerly.
"Yah! These aliens sure know how to live! Too bad they haven't offered us anything to eat yet, though."
"Maybe they don't eat, dude," Ted pointed out.
The chef pushed a button which made the tray in the oven slide out, then managed to push Bill & Ted's pan onto the tray.
"We're not going to get a tan with this stuff on, are we?" asked Ted.
"Naw, it must be something to make it harden faster. It's gotta harden before it does any good. Missy-Mom used to have to wait until her face masks cracked before she could take them off."
In the next instant the alien had unfurled a large silver sheet and threw it over top of them, immersing them in darkness.
"And what is this supposed to do, Bill?" Ted asked.
"I dunno. Block out the negative UV rays, maybe?"
The chef was almost done tucking the tin foil around the edges of the pan when he heard a door open behind him and was shocked to see Sirch himself enter the room.
"What is taking so long? I'm starving!" Sirch complained angrily, crossing the room to the chef.
"I'm so sorry, sir. I'm doing the best I can. It's difficult to decide the best way to cook something when you've never dealt with it before."
"You always do an adequate job," Sirch said, eyeing the pan and licking his lips. "Can't you just use the Insta-Cooker this once?"
"That would defeat the whole purpose, I fear. Everything comes out of that tasting like . . . chicken."
Sirch made a disgusted face at that remark.
"Believe me, it will be worth the wait!" the chef promised him.
"All right, all right." Sirch approached the pan, looking as if he wanted very much to sneak a peek. "Do you think, I could just . . . ?"
"By all means," the chef offered, and lifted up the corner of the tin foil so his leader could peek inside.
Bill and Ted eyed the new alien with some surprise. They were even more surprised when an appendage reached into the pan, scooping up a small amount of mud which it lifted to its mouth (or what could conceivably be considered a mouth) and lapped it up eagerly, humming in a satisfied way to the familiar alien. The aliens let the cover drop back over the confused pair as they moved away.
"That seems like a totally strange way to check on health spa guests, dude," Bill said quietly.
"I can understand eating glue, kind of, but mud?" Ted asked.
They eyed one another, even though they couldn't clearly see one another in the dark, yet they simultaneously moved to the edge of the pan and lifted the foil cover slightly to peer out. There they could see the two aliens looking at a kind of chart. It was roughly drawn, but appeared to be outlines of the dudes with various sections marked off with dashed lines.
"D'you supposed that's our health charts?" Bill asked, his voice cracking slightly.
"Dude . . . I got a very bad feeling about this," Ted sighed nervously.
"Why do I suddenly feel like we're about to be Jiffy Pop?" Bill asked.
"Let's bail, Bill!" Ted said emphatically.
In a flurry they leaped up from the pan, grabbing hold of the tin foil covering as they did so. Sirch and the chef turned in surprise to see a flurry of gravy and foil flying, and then two figures, still clutching the shiny sheet between them, dart from the room.
"There goes my dinner!" Sirch yelled furiously.
"Don't worry, they can't get far," the chef assured his leader.
"I'm telling you, they aren't here!" Elizabeth insisted through the crack in the door, grateful for the chain holding it closed against the onslaught of media in the hallway outside.
"Okay, okay, we believe you," the reporter said quietly, "But what we want to know is, where are they?"
"They're probably hiding out from all of the media," Joanna said in frustration.
"Did you hear that?" the overzealous reporter yelled into his microphone, shooting a look back at where he supposed his news channel's camera was (it was a little hard to make out anything through the bright lights). "She says they're probably hiding out from the media. In other words, you don't know for sure where they are, do you?"
Joanna stammered, realizing she may have made a mistake.
"That's it!" another reporter yelled, turning to run down the hall and motioning his camera crew to follow, "Bill & Ted are missing! Come on, let's ask the mayor what he intends to do about it! Bill & Ted missing in New York City! What a scoop!"
The other reporters, thinking this first crew had something on them, also disappeared down the hall, each coming up with their own plans to cover this new story. Elizabeth sighed with relief as she closed the door and walked back into the room.
Joanna sighed a guilty sigh. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to let it slip that we didn't know where they were."
"Actually, I'm glad you told them. Not only did they leave, but now maybe they will find out where Bill & Ted are!"
"I just hope they are all right," Joanna agreed. "It just is not like them to run away and not let us know where they were going."
"They must have had a good reason for doing so," Elizabeth assured her.
An especially loud snore directed their attention to the bed, where Death lay sleeping alongside Little Bill & Little Ted. "At least this isn't keeping Death awake," Joanna commented.
Elizabeth shook her head. "Nope. He is dead to the world." She then apologized to Joanna for that unintentional remark with a sorry glance.
Bill & Ted hurried down the long, sloping hallway, hoping they would eventually find some way to escape. By this time the foil cover had split in two, and they had somewhat wrapped the separate pieces around themselves, seeing as they were only wearing their boxer shorts and some gravy. There didn't seem to be any way out of the corridor, and they were just starting to despair when they happened to run past the navigation room.
Xela had been charting a course to a neighboring galaxy when he heard a commotion outside the door and hurried to see what was happening. He pressed the panel to open the door just as Bill & Ted had run past, not spotting them behind him as he looked down the corridor in the direction they had just come.
Bill & Ted slid to a stop upon seeing the door open and took advantage of the alien looking the other way to duck behind him and into the navigation room. By the time Xela realized what was happening, Bill had closed the door behind him by pressing on the panel like he'd seen the other alien do to open and close doors.
"We gotta keep them outta here!" Bill yelled to Ted, who responded by grabbing a flat, square object that was sitting nearby and slamming it into the door panel, breaking it into several pieces.
"Think that'll do it?" Ted asked.
"I dunno," Bill said, "Maybe. I just hope you didn't break anything we need, like Han Solo did when he shot out the bridge controls in Star Wars."
"Speaking of bridge, check it out, dude!" Ted pointed.
"Whoa!" Bill gasped, eyeing the large window which made up most of this room giving them a panoramic view of the darkness of space. "Think this is where they drive the ship?"
"I dunno, Bill, but maybe we can open channels and get someone up here to help us."
"Good thinking, Ted! See if you can find one of those weird earplug-type-thingies like Uhura uses!"
They began rummaging around the control panels, at the same time they heard several garbled voices outside chattering excitedly, and then the door humming and buzzing as if someone were trying to open it only to find it malfunctioning.
"I don't know how long it'll take them to get in here, Ted," Bill warned his friend.
"Hello? Hello?" Ted called out frantically, yelling into anything and everything that might be a radio. "Can anyone hear us?"
Suddenly a faint voice crackled from one of the instruments. "Greetings, this is Houston. Identify yourself."
"Whoa, Bill, we've reached Whitney Houston?"
"No, Ted! It's the space program dudes!" Bill leaned closer to where the voice was coming from. "Houston, can you hear me?"
"We are reading you clearly," the voice crackled back.
"Houston, we have a most egregious problem!" Bill said urgently.
"Please identify yourself," the voice said seriously.
"I am Bill S. Preston, Esq.!"
"And I am Ted "Theodore" Logan!"
"And together . . . we are . . . Wyld Stallyns!"
"Uh . . . really?" the voice asked quietly.
"Totally, dude," Bill confirmed. "It is us!"
"Wow! Hey, that was a great concert you guys gave last night! I mean, we all watched it on the big screen TVs here!"
"Whoa, thanks, dude!" Ted said sincerely.
"Yeah, well, we're in some real trouble."
"I should say so . . . " the voice interrupted, "You have the whole world wondering where the heck you are!"
"Actually, we are on a space ship hovering miles above Earth. These alien dudes totally want to eat us!"
"I'm sorry, I couldn't copy. Would you repeat that?"
A loud banging at the door made Bill's voice become more desperate. "They want to eat us!"
"THEY WANT TO EAT US!!!" Bill and Ted yelled loudly in unison.
"Well, of course they want to meet you! You are Bill & Ted after all!"
"No, no, that's not what we . . . " Bill began.
"Oh, sorry, dudes, but you're beginning to break up. And Baywatch is about to start. Look, come home soon, okay? We're looking forward to the Grand Canyon concert!"
"But wait, can't you . . . ?"
There was only static in reply.
"We lost them, Ted," Bill sighed worriedly.
"Can't blame them for wanting to watch Baywatch, though, dude," Ted said sympathetically.
A loud scraping sound came from behind them, and they could see the door vibrating violently.
"What are we going to do, Bill?" Ted asked nervously.
Bill looked at the expectant and hopeful expression on his friend's face and became determined. "We're going to get out of here, Ted," he said confidently, and moved to the controls, pushing and pulling on anything and everything. All at once the ship lurched forward, and Bill backtracked his movements until it did it again. "This is it, Ted! Hang on!" Not really knowing what he was doing, Bill began jerking the control around, and the ship began swaying back and forth in time with his movements. Ted held on tightly, listening to the sounds of bodies bouncing back and forth in the corridor outside, as Bill got the hang of steering.
"Whoa, not bad! They totally have power steering!" Bill said excitedly, and pushed the control forward, making the ship zoom ahead at an incredible speed. The Earth below them spun upward then loomed larger as they flew down towards it.
"Where are we going?" asked Ted.
"Home, dude," Bill stated simply. "We've had enough of this egregious alien appetizer thing." He looked back to Ted questioningly. "Do you see San Dimas down there anywhere?"
"I dunno, Bill. You know I totally got a 'D' in geometry."
"I think it's over there to the left of Iceland," Bill decided, and veered the ship in that direction.
The spaceship was now flying rapidly over the Pacific Ocean and they could see the east coast coming up quickly. As they zipped past the Mississippi River, they left clouds streaked in their wake and hundreds of thousands of wary onlookers staring up at the sky.
Dan Rather stared into the camera very seriously, obviously worn out from his extra long shift. "The media hasn't had a field day like this since the first worldwide broadcast of Wyld Stallyns from the Battle of the Bands or the O.J. trial. Now, just to recap, reports have been confirmed that a U.F.O. has been spotted crossing the continental United States. At last report the spaceship was nearing California after racing dangerously through the Grand Canyon. We are still trying to confirm the as-yet unsubstantiated reports that Bill & Ted were heard from by, of all places, NASA, earlier this evening. Oh wait, I understand we have a live report now from Hollywood. Let's go to our remote there . . . "
"Thank you, Dan!" the female reporter said, looking up to the sky. "We are awaiting the passing of this Unidentified Flying Object, which should be arriving at . . . wait . . . I think I see something now! Yes, it's an oblong object in the sky coming this way. It's . . . look out!"
The camera could only catch a corner of the object as it roared past the news crew and startled onlookers at a furious speed. A moment later a loud boom rocked the area, and people stumbled to regain their sense of balance.
"Wow! Dan, I have never witnessed anything like that before! The flying object just passed not more than a mile above us, and the sound . . . the force . . . well, it was incredible, there's no other way to describe it!"
"Can you tell us which way the object was going?" Dan Rather asked.
The woman seemed to be getting her sense of direction. "It seems it's now heading east, Dan, out towards the desert."
Elizabeth and Joanna looked at each other hopefully. "San Dimas!" they gasped.
Bill & Ted were whooping excitedly, so enjoying their joyride in the space ship they almost forgot about their troubles. Finally they began to recognize the city ahead.
"We're here!" Ted announced, and Bill slowed up the ship, which came to slow crawl as it crept over the city of San Dimas, casting a giant shadow below it's four city block expanse.
"Now what?" asked Ted.
Bill thought for a moment. "I dunno. I'm still kinda hungry. Wanna get something to eat?"
"Excellent!" Ted agreed.
Bill steered the ship, following the streets he knew until they reached an intersection with a small red-roofed building sitting on the corner. Bill carefully steered the ship at an angle so they were tilted down towards the drive-up window.
Ted walked to the large panel of glass and studied it, finally finding a small latch which he flipped up and pushed the window open.
"Welcome to Pretzels 'n Cheese, may I take your order?"
"Yeah, dude, we would like two super-large jumbo pretzels with extra cheese and two large colas, please."
"That's two super-large jumbo pretzels with extra cheese and two large colas. Any dessert today?"
Ted looked to Bill, who shook his head. "Nope, that's it."
"Pull around to the second window, please, for your total."
Bill pushed the control lever and carefully steered the ship around the side of the building. All at once there was a large crash and the dudes shirked, realizing that they had accidentally taken off the height barrier overhang.
When the rubble and dust settled, the young man at the window looked up at them in shock.
"Sorry about that, dude," Bill apologized.
"Hey, Bill & Ted! It's okay, we got insurance. How're you guys doing? Haven't seen you around for a while!"
"Well, we've been a bit busy lately," Ted explained.
"Yeah, this world tour stuff is most time-consuming. Is Mr. Whitchett still mad at us for quitting on such short notice?"
"Naw, he got over it, especially when the tourist trade started up!" A small bell rang behind him and he turned to retrieve two bags and two cups, which he handed to Ted. "Here's your pretzels."
"Whoa, dude," Bill said worriedly, "I just realized, we totally don't have any money on us. Our clothes are still in the other room."
"That's okay, this one's on me. Gotta treat former employees right, you know!"
"Whoa, thanks dude!" said Ted.
"Catch you later!" Bill said, and eased the spaceship forward to the end of the drive-thru, where Bill & Ted inspected the contents of their bags.
"Looks most savory," Ted said happily, pulling his pretzel out of his bag.
A loud banging noise behind them startled them from their bags. "You'd better enjoy it, Ted," Bill said smoothly, taking his pretzel out of his own bag, "It may very well be your last meal."
"Oh . . . I wish we'd ordered dessert then," Ted said sadly.
All at once the door flew inward and Sirch barged into the room, followed closely by Xela and the chef. "Ah, there is no escape for them this time! Guess I'll just have to have my dinner . . . tartare!"
Before Bill or Ted could react, Sirch had crossed the room and grabbed Bill in his slimy appendages, lifting him up off the ground. "No way!" Bill yelled out, trying to pull free.
Ted lurched forward, grabbing Bill by the ankle in a desperate attempt to save his friend, only to be scooped up by Sirch's other tentacle. There was nothing he could do as Sirch opened his mouth wide, pulling Bill closer.
"So long, dude!" Bill cried out, closing his eyes tightly.
"Look on the bright side," Ted offered, "maybe the alien dude has metal fillings and you'll be a most unpleasant meal for him with that tin foil on."
Bill cringed as he felt the alien's mouth close around his arm, sucking greedily. He was thinking what a shame it was he didn't even get to take a bite of his pretzel, which he could feel being sucked out of his hand. A moment later, he was surprised when the mouth opened and he was able to pull his arm out.
"Ewwww!" Bill moaned, studying his slime-covered arm. "I hope we got extra napkins, dude."
The alien suddenly dropped Bill & Ted and sat back, making what sounded like almost a purring noise. It looked down at them with its many eyes, then reached down menacingly. They cowered until the alien snatched the pretzel from Ted's hand and popped it into his mouth, making the same purring sound.
"Whoa, that's it, Ted!" Bill said, and pulled himself back up to the controls of the ship, steering it back around the building to beginning of the drive-thru.
"Welcome to Pretzels 'n Cheese, may I take your order?"
"Yeah, dude . . . we would like 300 super-large jumbo pretzels with extra cheese, please!" Bill said.
"Would you like any sodas with that?"
" . . . and what an incredible two weeks it's been. Trading for Pretzels 'n Cheese stock on Wall Street continues to soar to an all-time, record-breaking high after the announcement of their first-ever intergalactic franchise on the planet Zwub. Fast food restaurants across the country continue to dismantle their height barrier overhangs in the hopes of attracting intergalactic trade of their own . . . . "
Bill and Ted smiled at one another, then turned to their wives. "Not bad, huh? Maybe someday our kids can take a summer job at Pretzels 'n Cheese on the planet Zwub," Ted suggested.
"Yeah, just as long as they don't introduce their own line of appetizers," Bill added nervously.
"I am so glad we finally managed to get a night off," Joanna said. "And we have a surprise for you as well!"
"Whoa, what?" asked Bill & Ted excitedly.
Elizabeth reached behind her to retrieve an envelope with a gold seal on it. "We figured you'd be tired after all the recording we've done the last two weeks."
"Not to mention your most heinous alien-encounter episode," Joanna added.
"Anyway, Missy offered to make reservations for all four of us at the best health spa in town!"
Bill & Ted looked at the envelope with wide eyes and then to each other.
"Um . . . dude?" Ted asked Bill.
"Yeah, um . . . thanks, but I think we'd rather spend a nice, quiet evening at home."