Part One (633 KB) - Whoa is (Not)

“One bottle of beer on the wall, one bottle of beer… you take one down, you pass it around, no more
bottles of beer on the wall.”
In the driver’s seat, Lewis let out a small sigh of relief, which was shared with most of the other Disaster
Area members. After long last, the song was finally over.
But Bill and Ted weren’t done yet. After sitting in silence for a grand total of ten seconds, Bill
remembered something.
“Do you know that the British version has green bottles instead” he asked.
Ted perked up. “Really”
A sudden sense of great foreboding washed over Lewis.
“Yeah, and the bottles don’t get passed around, they just fall off the wall.”
Ted grinned. “Excellent!”
Sitting next to them, the thought ‘I bet those British people hear our version and think Americans are
always getting drunk’ floated aimlessly around Eric the keyboardist’s head. Next to him, Ashley and
Ivan were engaged in their 111 th tic-tac-toe game.
“…So it’s just ‘a hundred green bottles, hanging on the wall’,” Bill started singing. Upfront, Lewis
grimaced. “A hundred green bottles, hanging on the wall, and if one green bottle were to accidentally
fall, there’ll be ninety-nine green bottles, hanging on the wall.”
Ted joined in at the next verse, and the duo’s not-completely-in-tune voices filled the van once again.
Eric groaned and buried his face in his hands.
“Are we there yet” Ivan called out.
**
“I don’t see any hills,” Ted observed some time after the van turned into Hill Valley. “Or valleys,” he
added, and then sighed. “Bill, I think that we have been most egregiously deceived.”
Upfront, Lewis shook his head. He pulled into the driveway of the rented house, then yelled at the
others to get out and unload. He hopped out of the van, dropped the keys, swore, picked them up,
dropped them again, swore again, and picked them up again. Having spent several hours cooped up in
the driver’s seat of the van listening to badly-sung songs about bottles had had adverse effects on his
temper and motor skills.
The two culprits in question now gazed thoughtfully at the house before them.
“It looks inhabitable,” Bill decided.
“Yeah,” Ted agreed, and then Ivan shoved a snare drum at him and told him to get moving.
Not long after, Bill and Ted found themselves shut out of the garage, wherein Disaster Area had just
started their first practice in Hill Valley.
“What do they expect us to do out here” Bill asked.
Ted shrugged and nudged a rock about with his shoe. Then an idea struck him, and his face lit up.
“A hundred green bottles, hanging on the wall,” he started. “A hundred green bottles, hanging on the-“
The garage back door flew open and an irate Lewis stuck his head out. “Haven’t you two had enough of
that song” he yelled. “Shut up, okay Go far away, and shut up, and stop being an insult to music!”
The door slammed shut.
Ted blinked. “But I wasn’t insulting-“
Bill pulled at his friend’s sleeve. “Let’s get out of here, dude. I don’t think we’re wanted.”