Chapter 11

Unbeknownst to Dr. Talcuin, Toaster, Chuck or even the Wal-Mart security task force, the FBI was stationed inside the camper shell of a truck that had been parked in the Wal-Mart parking lot for going on three months. Bill and Ted had been assigned to drug activity surveillance and to each other as partners from the beginning of their FBI careers. There was a lot of laughing and snide comments when they both appeared for duty on the same day.

“Hey guys, Bill and Ted are here for duty!” said one agent.

“We'll send them to investigate our most heinous crimes!” joked another.

After most of the jokes had been made, the other agents in the office kept making them. It was too coincidental for two new guys to show up on the same day and have their names be the same as the two goofy characters in the '90s movie comedy. Bill and Ted were assigned as partners together and meth surveillance was definitely a most non-non-heinous duty. Unfortunately, Bill and Ted did not get along personally as well at their movie star counterparts. While on duty, they were able to function and take data and observe possible suspects, but it was the little moments during breaks or at meal times when the two began arguing like an old married couple.

“You want anything from the store?” asked Bill during one late night surveillance break.

“Yeah, how about a nice top sirloin, medium rare.” said Ted sarcastically.

“Ok, Ted, I was just asking. If you don't want anything just say so.”

“Well, excuse me. I do want a steak because I'm tired of all this heat and eat shit.” said Ted.

“You know that I can't get you that. Your choices are the same as every other night we've been stuck here.” reasoned Bill.

“Fine, get me a diet coke, and a couple of cans of spaghetti-o's.” said Ted.

“Ok, was that so bad?” asked Bill as he carefully checked for traffic before leaving the camper.

“Fucking asshole.” muttered Ted when Bill was out of earshot.

A short while later, Bill returned to the camper with Ted's requested items as well as two bags of chips, a pint of ice cream and a few pieces of deli-ready fried chicken. Ted eyed Bill's food suspiciously.

“Well how the fuck was I supposed to know that they had fried fucking chicken?” said Ted.

“I asked you what you wanted and I got it. If you were interested in the deli specials, you could have asked me to find out.” replied Bill.

Ted was furious and bottled it up inside as a good FBI agent would. He glared at Bill the entire time during their meal break. He opened each can of spaghetti-o's and ate them cold even though the camper had a microwave. He sipped his diet coke and when the urge struck, he burped half-digested pre-processed pasta across the small interior of the camper shell. It stunk pretty badly, but Bill had spicy pork rinds which were fragrant enough on their own to give him a slight buffer from Ted's burp smells.

Ted's aggression did not go unnoticed. Bill crunched loudly on his pork rinds and slurped his fingers as he relished in his fried chicken delights. Then Bill slowly ate his chunky chocolate chip ice cream making sure to smack his lips after every sugary bite. After their 20 minute meal break was over, they put away their food items and utensils and each turned to their individual computers to go back to work.

The tension inside the camper was thick and explosive. Any further hostility between the two men could have sparked an all out brawl despite each having been through extensive training and testing for stressful situations such as these. If anything real, such as a drug deal or otherwise, were to happen, there was no telling how they would react.