Bill and Ted Imagines

Mall Madness

It has been a most unusual day. Zipping between centuries, Bill, Ted, and I have picked up a handful of famous figures to aid us in our history report. I even gave Beethoven my Walkman during our pit-stop in prehistoric San Dimas while Bill was fixing the booth. He seemed to love Bon Jovi's 'Slippery When Wet' - one of my personal favourites. It's safe to say our music man has excellent taste.

We're finally back in San Dimas, though we're still down a man. Gathered around a table in the mall's food court, I distributed the tray of slushies as Bill and Ted go over the plan.

"Alright, so you guys are gonna hang out here with Y/N while Ted and I go get Napoleon from Ted's little brother Deacon."

"Yeah, then we can go do our report and save the future, or whatever." Ted summarises.

"Be quick. We don't have a lot of time left." I inform them as I glance at my watch.

"Sure thing! Catch you later, dudes!"

As I watch my friends fade out of my eyeline, I realise that there's nothing more I can do but wait. I hate it. With a sigh, I turn back to the group, observing how they approach their iced drinks with varying levels of caution. It takes a minute for a couple of them, but they all make use of the straws.

"How are the slushies?" In response to my question, I receive a chorus of pleasant hum and odd comments.

"Fascinating." Abe appears enthralled.

"So-crates?" I enquire with a thumbs up to gauge his opinion. He flashes a wondrous wide smile, eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas.

"So, what do you do here? You just sit around and drink red ice?" Billy the Kid questions.

"Not just that. There's a bunch of stores. Music stuff," I turn to Beethoven. "Sporting stuff, clothing stores, photo stalls, jewellery stalls the food court - everything you can think of. There's even an ice rink over there. The guys and I like skating on it every weekend."

"Skating?" Freud speaks up.

"Yeah! You wear these boots that have blades on the bottom to help you move across the ice. It's not really walking. It's more like gliding. It's kinda tricky at first, but once you get the hang of it, it's pretty fun." I do my best to explain the concept,  not even touching on ice hockey.

"Excellent." Billy has picked up our lingo.

"Wow, Genghis Khan, you really demolished that slushie!" Everyone else still has some when I notice his face begin to twist. "Uh-oh, brain freeze!" I chuckle as Beethoven turns to check on him. "Don't worry, it'll pass in a minute."

Over the following few minutes, I discuss my favourite stores and stalls before emphasising that everything I've mentioned is only in the mall. Naturally, I mention Waterloo since Bill got us tickets. I can't help but glance at my watch as time ticks away, nervous that this was all for nothing.

"That sounds wonderful. If you'll excuse me, I must go and see this for myself." Abe stands away from his chair.

"What? Where are you going?" This wasn't the plan.

"To visit the portrait booth you mentioned." He answers honestly.

"Mr. President, we don't have time."

"I'll only be a moment." He keeps walking as the others get out of their chairs.

"Wait, no, no, no, everyone sit down." I panic as the group splits off into many different directions. "Please! I'll buy more slushies!" My desperate attempt for control fails miserably. "Oh, no."

"That didn't work out very well, did it?" Billy sips through his straw between smug smirks.

"Obviously not." I sigh and slouch in my seat. Only Billy, Freud, and Socrates remain at the table. "This is a disaster most heinous."