Second only to
the scene where Bill & Ted face their fears, the original Battle of the
Bands fight scene was the most notable omission and change to the final
movie. Originally the scene was much more complicated, with Good Robot
Bill & Ted running away when ordered to "save the babes."
Bill & Ted must confront Evil Bill & Ted on their own with Death trying
to entertain the audience. Poor Bill & Ted are thrashed around by
their evil robot counterparts until Bill strikes upon the idea of letting the
robots kill them, which they do by smashing their heads with microphone
stands. But Bill & Ted beat Death at so many games they have won the
right to come back to life several times, and so when Death reanimates them they
are able to sneak up on the Evil Robots and pull their heads off. De
Nomolos arrives to kill Bill & Ted and shoots at them, but Bill and Ted are
able to deflect the shots with the Evil Robot heads. Bill and Ted then
find self-destruct buttons on the robot heads and push them before lobbing them
at De Nomolos, who is blown up. And what about the good robot Bill &
Ted and the Princesses? Just as the princesses start to fall from the
rafters when their ropes break, good robot Bill & Ted burst through
the back wall of the stadium and catch them! They had to run clear around
the world to build up enough momentum to break through the wall!
Some brief
clips from these scenes actually made it into commercials for the movie:
Production
storyboards also illustrate how this scene played out originally:
This scene was
also included in the novelization as follows (the photos are not from the novel
but included for illustrative purposes):
Good Bill, Good Ted, the Grim Reaper
and Station clustered around the Good Bill and Ted robots.
"Well," said Ted, "this
is it."
"Okay, robots," said Bill,
like a coach prepping his team before the big game, "you know what you have
to do."
"Saaave the baaabes," said
the good robots.
"That's right. Station,
think they'll be able to pull it off?"
Station did his best to look
confident. "Station," he said.
"Yeah, I figured you might say
that," said Ted.
"Good luck," said Bill.
"Yah," said Ted.
"Totally!"
"Go get ‘em!" yelled Bill,
like a starter beginning a pair of runners in a fast forty.
And then the robots were off, shooting
away like bullets. They took off incredibly fast, so fast that their long,
awkward metal strides left fiery footprints smoking and glowing behind them in
the parking lot asphalt. They took off so fast, in fact, that it took a
second or two for Bill and Ted to realize that the robots had made a terrible
mistake. Truly the bugs had not been worked out of their systems.
The robots had taken off in the wrong
direction, running away from the auditorium instead of toward it.
In a flash they were gone - too late for Bill and Ted to stop them.
"Hey!" shouted Bill.
"Wait!"
"Where are they going?"
yelled Ted.
But the good robots were covering so
much ground so fast that they were out of earshot almost instantly. Bill
and Ted stared, dumbstruck, through the billowing smoke the good robots left in
their wake.
"Back to the drawing board,"
said Ted, sadly.
"Station! What's going on
dude?"
But Station had changed, too. The
calm, confident Station, the one who had built the malfunctioning robots, was
gone, replaced with his old two selves. But they seemed different, too -
they were drained of energy, as if the effort of building the robots had been
too much for them.
"Look," said Ted, "they
are totally wiped out."
"Station," croaked the
Stations dully, nodding in agreement. Then they turned and, mustering what
little energy they had left, pitter-pattered away, following in the footsteps of
their good robot creations.
Bill, Ted and the Grim Reaper stared
after them. It seemed as if the plan was not going to work, that all the
trouble and terror they had been through had been worth nothing.
"Now what do we do?" asked
Ted.
"We still gotta stop them."
"Yah. But how? I mean,
it was going to be hard enough to stop two evil robot dudes who had already
killed us once even if we had help from good robots. But now . . . "
"Well, we still gotta try."
Ted's jaw set in a determined
line. "You're right, Bill. It's the least we can do."
They took off at a run for the
auditorium, the Grim Reaper huffing and puffing along behind them. The
backstage entrance was marked, Artists Only.
"Artists," said Bill, "I
like that."
The security guard on the door didn't
even bother to check their names on the master list of performers - all he had
to do was take one look at the Grim Reaper, dressed as he was, to know that he
had a heavy metal band on his hands.
The Grim Reaper might have gotten them
in, but he was slowing them down. He was a lot older than Bill and Ted -
by about thirty thousand years - so he wasn't as fast on his feet as he could
be. By the time he got backstage, he was sweating profusely and completely
out of breath.
"Come on, dude!" yelled Ted.
"Hurry," urged Bill.
"I'm coming, I'm coming,"
panted the Grim Reaper. "Give a guy a break."
"Death," said Bill urgently,
"you gotta help us stall for time."
"Yah. We gotta check things
out. Find the princesses. Make a plan."
All this totally flustered the Grim
Reaper - which puzzled Bill and Ted, as you would have thought that a guy in his
line of work would be used to improvising in unusual situations. They
dragged him toward the wings. The sound of the crowd was much louder now,
a low roar like the breaking of surf on a beach.
"How?" stammered the Grim
Reaper. "I don't understand . . . I'm not really prepared for . .
. I mean, I haven't worked up anything to say . . . I haven't got a thing to
wear . . . "
"This is important, dude,"
said Ted seriously.
"You gotta cover for us
while we try to figure out what to do. It's a matter of life and, well,
death."
Ted took the Grim Reaper by the
shoulders and looked into his bloodshot old eyes. "Death. We
need your help. In the van I heard you telling Bill that you wanted to
help us - well, here's your big chance, dude."
"But . . . I am frightened,"
said the Grim Reaper unhappily. "All these people . . . you know how
I work, fellas. I'm a lot better one on one."
Bill and Ted couldn't waste any more
time convincing the Grim Reaper. They shoved him out on to the
stage. "You're going out there, Death . . . "
"And you're coming back a
star," said Ted.
They shoved the Grim Reaper into the
glare of the lights and left him to do his best.
Mrs. Wardroe was doing her thing at the
microphone, ushering out the band that had just finished and preparing her
introduction of Evil Bill and Evil Ted.
"Let's give a big hand to the
last band, Primus, weren't they great?" Actually, Mrs. Wardroe and
the crowd knew that Primus wasn't all that great, but she had to say something
encouraging - it was only polite. There was a spattering of applause from
the audience, not exactly a ringing endorsement. But Mrs. Wardroe couldn't
help thinking that if Wyld Stallyns got as good a response, Bill and Ted would
be very, very lucky.
"And now for our final act of the
evening . . . Please give a warm welcome to Wyld Stallyns!"
Evil Bill and Evil Ted strode onto the
stage, their guitars slung over their shoulders like weapons. Both evil
robots wore nasty little smirks, so delighted were they with the thought of the
havoc they were about to wreak on Bill, Ted, the princesses, the Battle of the
Bands and on history itself. It was a great day to be in the business of
doing total evil.
The crowd clapped, but not with a lot
of enthusiasm. If the Wyld Stallyns had achieved any measure of fame in
San Dimas, it was as the worst garage band going, bar none. Some of the
audience groaned when they heard the band name, others started toward the exits.
Evil Bill stepped up to the microphone
and looked with disgust at the entire audience. "How's it goin',
worms?" His amplified voice boomed through the auditorium.
"I am Bill S. Preston, Esquire."
Evil Ted leaned into his mike.
"And I am Ted ‘Theodore' Logan. And we are . . . "
"Wyld Stallyns!"
"We know!" shouted one of the
spectators down front right by the stage.
"Don't remind us," yelled
someone nearby.
Evil Bill and Evil Ted ignored this
heckling - hurt feelings were not part of their programming. Evil Bill
shouted:
"And we're hear to say . . .
"
"All hail, Mr. De Nomolos,"
Evil Bill and Evil Ted yelled in unison. They swung their guitars up and
flailed wildly at the strings. The manic thrashing at their instruments
failed to demonstrate that Bill and Ted had improved in the music
department. Mrs. Wardroe covered her eyes with her hands. More and
more people started walking up the aisles toward the exits. It looked like
the Wyld Stallyns set was over before it had begun.
Then, strangely enough, the Wyld
Stallyns' act took a sudden turn for the better. The Grim Reaper
tottered onto the stage, staring at the crowd, smiling nervously. "Hi
. . . ," he said with a wimpy little wave. Then, overcome with fear,
he fainted and smacked his head on the synthesizer keyboard. A musical
vamp started out of the machine. The crowd that remained was curious
now. It wasn't every band that managed to get a guest appearance by the
Grim Reaper, even if it was a brief one.
The Evil Bill and Evil Ted caught sight
of the real Bill and Ted entering from the wings. The evil robots stopped
banging away at their guitars and stared. Somehow - and it did seem kind
of improbable - Bill and Ted had managed to outwit Colonel Oates, the Easter
Bunny and Granny S. Preston - and that was the most evil De Nomolos knew how to
conjure up. No wonder Evil Bill and Evil Ted were surprised.
Suddenly, the auditorium was very
quiet. The crowd was intrigued - maybe the Wyld Stallyns really sucked
musically, but there was something to be said for their showmanship. After
all, two sets of identical musicians plus the prostrate figure of Death on the
stage were out of the ordinary.
"It can't be," said Evil
Bill into his open microphone.
"No way," said Evil Ted.
"Yes way," insisted Good Ted.
"You totally killed us, you evil
metal jerks," said Good Bill.
His words drew a measure of applause
from the members of the audience who appreciated a little psychodrama with their
music. Everyone seemed to be holding his or her breath, wondering what was
going to happen next.
Evil Bill and Evil Ted had recovered
from their shock and surprise and were beginning to realize that they were going
to have the fun of killing Good Bill and Good Ted all over again plus the charge
of doing away with their girlfriends at the same time. This would truly be
a night that San Dimas would not forget in a long time.
"We killed you," said Evil
Bill with a sneer, "and we're gonna do it again."
"Yah!" said Evil Ted, "and
we're going to kill your girlfriends!"
Evil Ted pulled a long knife out of his
belt and sliced through a thick rope tethered just offstage. The
princesses dropped from the catwalk above the stage, plummeting toward the hard
floor. Joanne and Elizabeth screamed, but just as it looked as if they
were going to smash the the ground, the roped jerked them back and they hung
suspended over the stage.
The crowd roared its approval of this
truly excellent display of showmanship. Maybe the Wyld Stallyns had
improved. Even Mrs. Wardroe looked mildly impressed.
But to Good Bill and Good Ted, this
wasn't a show, this was real life. Seeing their girlfriends treated so
roughly was more than they could stand. With outraged screams, the two
charged across the stage.
"Joanna!" yelled Good Bill.
"Elizabeth!" shouted Good
Ted.
"We'll save you, babes!"
said Good Bill.
"Yah! Hang on!" said
Good Ted. Good advice but under the circumstances, there was little else
the princesses could do.
But Evil Bill and Evil Ted had other
plans for Good Ted and Good Bill. The robots fell on our heroes, grabbed
them and tossed them into the back wall of the stage as if they were about as
heavy as pillows.
Boom! Bill and Ted smacked into
the hard bricks and slid to the floor, stars dancing in front of their
eyes. They shook their heads like boxers trying to clear their brains
after a savage right, but even in their befuddled state, Bill and Ted realized
that they were not off to a good start. De Nomolos may have created these
robots in their image, but he had made a little improvement - like superior
strength.
The crowd, however, was eating it
up. Other acts in the Battle of the Bands may have played better music,
but no one put on a show like this. Applause filled the auditorium to the
rafters.
The Grim Reaper heard the clapping and
the cheering and awoke from his daze. He saw his friends lying sprawled at
the base of the wall, and he took in Evil Bill and Evil Ted's look of total
triumph and figured he had to act, no matter how scared he was of appearing
before big crowds. He mustered all the confidence he had and stepped up to
an open microphone. Even before he opened his mouth, the Grim Reaper got a
big hand and that made him feel better.
"Hello, San Dimas!" he said,
his deep voice booming out through the auditorium. The crowd roared
back. But they weren't quite sure where they should be looking. On
the one hand you had a dude dressed - very convincingly - as Death at the mike,
on the other you had two dudes beating up on two dudes who looked just like
them. Evil Bill and Evil Ted were advancing on Bill and Ted, coming in for
the kill, cornering them against the back wall of the stage.
"Got you!" snarled Evil Bill,
in triumph.
"Prepare to die.
Again!"
"You good-for-nothing,
lesser-developed human prototype versions of us!"
"Guys . . . , " said Ted
weakly. "Let's talk."
The Grim Reaper was totally getting
into the acclaim he was getting from the crowd. He started snapping his
long, thin fingers and immediately improvised:
"I am Death. I come from
beyond. I reap each soul with my boney wand . . . "
Evil Bill and Evil Ted had gotten hold
of Bill and Ted now and, with a cruel, inhuman surge of brute force, threw our
hapless heroes across the stage, body-slamming them to the ground as if they
were wrestlers - but this was for real. The crowd was screaming now.
This was a show! There was a triumphant fight going on, a rapping Grim
Reaper, not to mention two truly resplendent babes suspended over the stage.
The Grim Reaper was steadily gaining in
confidence.
"Behold before you, two Bills and
two Teds. These two are good and real . . . " He pointed to the
Good Bill and Good Ted sprawled on the stage. "These two, true metal
heads. And so my good friends - Oomphf!" Evil Ted pushed the
Grim Reaper away from the microphone, sending Death flying.
"Shut up!" he ordered.
"I need this." Evil Ted grabbed the mike stand and tossed the
microphone away. Holding it as if it were a club, he stalked toward Good
Bill and Good Ted. Evil Bill got the same idea, grabbed a heavy microphone
stand and started toward his own victim.
Seeing this development, Good Bill and
Good Ted were, as usual, in total agreement. "Bogus," they
moaned.
No one seemed to be paying much
attention to the princesses, but they were in as mortal danger as Bill and
Ted. The ropes that bound their hands were beginning to fray, and they
were just seconds away from plummeting to the floor of the stage.
"Bill, I think we are about to be
dead. Again."
"Heinous."
"Totally!"
"We gotta think, dude."
"Dude, I can't think of anything
right now except for maybe death."
Death, it seemed, was thinking of his
newfound career in show business. He moonwalked - badly, but he was new to
the business - across the stage and took his place in front of another open
microphone.
"Tonight you will witness their
ultimate battle. The winner will rightly mount the Wyld Stallyns
saddle."
Okay, so it didn't rhyme exactly, but
it was close enough and the crowd was eating it up.
Bill had been thinking, and he wasn't
much better at it than Ted. "Ted . . . there's only one thing to
do."
Saved, thought Ted.
"What?"
Evil Bill and Evil Ted were standing
over them now, their microphone stands raised high over their heads.
"Don't move," said Bill.
"What! That's
it? Don't move?"
Evil Bill and Evil Ted swung, and the
heavy mike stands caught Good Bill and Good Ted square in their temples.
Their eyes turned up in their heads and for a second everything was black.
"We got ‘em," said Evil
Bill.
"Totally. Finally."
Indeed, it did look as if this were the
end of Bill and Ted. Their bodies were sprawled lifeless on the stage, not
moving a muscle. The crowd was real impressed, and even Mrs. Wardroe
thought that the boys were doing an excellent job of acting.
The crowd was cheering wildly, stamping
their feet and demanding more. Evil Bill and Evil Ted faced their adoring
public, drinking in the acclaim like champagne.
After a second or two, the spirits of
Bill and Ted, looking just as they had the first time they died, rose out of
their corpses and looked down at the bodies that had once been their mortal
forms.
Ted did not look impressed.
"That was your idea?" he asked in disgust. "Stand
still? We're dead again, dude."
"Ted. How many games did we
beat the Grim Reaper at?"
It seemed like a long time ago.
"I dunno, four I guess - why?"
"And how many lives did we use to
get back here?" asked Bill, as if patiently explaining an algebra problem
to a student.
"Uh . . . two." The
full import of Bill's plan sunk into Ted's brain. His eyes widened in
delight. "Whoa! Yah! The Grim Reaper still owes us two
lives!" He cupped his hands around his mouth and called over to the
Grim Reaper, shouting to make himself heard above the thunderous applause.
"Hey, Death, you still owe us two lives, don't you, dude?"
The Grim Reaper, though, was enjoying
his moment in the spotlight, so into his own performance that he was oblivious
to Bill and Ted's predicament.
"Yo! Death!" shouted
Bill and Ted.
The Grim Reaper glared at them.
"Can't you see that I'm performing?"
"But, dude . . . "
The Grim Reaper hated being annoyed,
but he knew he had to honor his promise. "Yes," he shouted over
his shoulder. "You can come back."
Bill and Ted jumped for joy and did a
ghostly high five.
"Let's get ‘em, Ted!"
"Go for it, Bill!"
They dove back into their bodies and
leaped to their feet.
Evil Bill and Evil Ted were facing the
audience, unaware that Good Bill and Good Ted had come back to life and were out
for revenge.
"Remember the name," Evil
Bill was screaming at the crowd. "Mr. Nomolos De Nomolos!"
"The Greatest Man in
History!" shrieked Evil Ted.
The two evil robots turned to each
other and high-fived. "We've totally won, dude!"
But they hadn't. Good Bill and
Good Ted came up behind them, grabbed the evil ones by the ears and yanked,
pulling the robot heads from the robot bodies.
"No waaaay!" yelled the
heads.
"Yes way, evil Bill and Ted
heads!" responded Good Bill and Good Ted.
Without their powerful bodies, the
robots were much easier to deal with. The headless bodies staggered around
the stage wondering where their heads were. "Over here!" yelled
Evil Bill's head, but as the bodies approached, Bill and Ted struck out at
them, kicking the flailing, hapless figures off the stage and into the audience.
Ted cocked his fist and punched the
Evil Ted robot head hard and square in the jaw. "Take
that!" Pow! He slammed him again. "And that!"
Cracking him in the nose.
Bill readied his furious fist.
"Got any last words, malevolent pate?"
Evil Bill's eyes flicked toward the
rafters. "Yah! Check out your girlfriends!"
Bill looked up. "What?
Oh no!"
The ropes that bound the princesses'
wrists had just about frayed through. In that instant, the strands gave
way, Joanna and Elizabeth dropping in a sickening fall toward the stage and
certain death. All Bill and Ted could do was watch helplessly.
Then, suddenly, the back wall of the
stage shattered in a shower of bricks and Good Robot Bill and Ted crashed
through, running straight under the falling princesses, their metallic arms out
as if they were wide receivers going out to catch a long, long bomb.
"SAAAAVE THE BAAABES!
SAAAAVE THE BAAABES! SAAAAVE THE BAAABES!" they
intoned.
And save the babes, they did. The
robots judged the falling princesses perfectly and so - boom-boom - each landed
right on target in the robots' outstretched arms.
"Whooooaaaaa!" said Bill and
Ted in relief and admiration. "Excellent!"
The Stations were not far behind the
robots, and they were now climbing through the hole smashed by Good Robot Bill
and Good Robot Ted. The crowd was delirious now - there were two
decapitated Bill and Teds, plus two kind of strange Bill and Teds, plus a
set of normal Bill and Teds in the show. Never mind the Grim Reaper and
what appeared to be a pair of Martians.
Bill clapped the Stations on the
shoulders. "They did know what they were doing!"
"Yah!" shouted Ted.
"And they must have had to run around the whole world to get up enough
momentum to burst through that wall."
Bill and Ted, the evil robot heads
tucked under their arms, extended their free hands to the princesses.
"Ladies . . . "
Joanne and Elizabeth curtsied and took
their fiancés' hands, and together they stepped to the front of the stage to
receive the applause and adulation of the crowd.
But then: the whole auditorium seemed
to tremble, followed by a loud howl and a blinding flash of blue-white
light. Suddenly, crashing down onto the stage, came a time-traveling phone
booth. It landed in a shower of crackling, sizzling electricity. The
door slid open and there, robed in black, stood De Nomolos. He did not
look happy, but he managed a thin little smile when he caught sight of Bill and
Ted.
"William S. Preston,
Esquire?"
"Yah," said Bill.
"And Ted ‘Theodore'
Logan?"
"How's it goin', Circuits of
Time-travelin'-dude?"
The crowd had gone very quiet all of a
sudden, as if they were now witnesses to a scene of great drama. They all
knew that whoever the dude in the phone booth was, he was a dude to be reckoned
with.
"Shut up," snapped De Nomolos.
"Who are you?" demanded Ted.
"Who am I?" The
question seemed to amuse De Nomolos. In the future it would be a very
silly question indeed. "I am Nomolos De Nomolos." He
pointed to the evil robot heads. "I am the master of those
morons. And I must see to it that you die."
Bill and Ted looked at each other.
"Die, dude," said Bill
wearily.
"Again. Don't you dudes
ever think of anything else, except trying to totally kill us?"
"No," said De Nomolos
truthfully. He swept aside his robe and pulled out a huge
twenty-fifth-century-style handgun.
"Okay," said Ted.
"You've been trying to kill us for days now. Maybe you'd like to
tell us why."
"Yah," said Bill.
"Why, dude?"
"It is very simple," said De
Nomolos. "So that in my day - seven hundred years from now - I will
rule. All I need to do is kill you and return to the future. When I
arrive, I will be revered, am emperor. A living god!"
"Oh," said Bill.
"Got you," said Ted.
"And now," said De Nomolos,
"it is time . . . " He cocked the huge weapon and aimed it
straight out ahead of him, like a dueler. He decided to kill Bill first,
alphabetical order.
"Now what?" whispered
Ted. "Now we got no lives left."
Bill was fresh out of ideas. All
he could do was shrug.
"Gentlemen," shouted Mrs.
Wardroe from the wings, "use your heads!" She pointed to
the robot heads still tucked under their arms. Evil Bill and Evil Ted were
watching De Nomolos, and they were grinning expectantly.
De Nomolos fired twice, the big gun
roaring and bucking in his hand. Bill and Ted thrust the robot heads up,
blocking the blast, the bullets ricocheting around the stage like hornets.
Then they cocked their arms back and rolled the heads toward De Nomolos, as if
they were champion bowlers throwing perfect strikes.
De Nomolos gaped at the heads rolling
toward him, the self-destruct buttons built into the robot crania having been
activated by the force of the gun blast.
The evil genius could only smile
feebly, weakly, as certain destruction rolled toward him. "Guys . . .
I was only joking . . . "
The two heads hit his legs and
stopped. There was a blinding flash and a sizzling zzzzzaaaaapppppp
followed by three sheets of blue flame, and when that was gone, De Nomolos and
the evil robot heads were gone. In their place were three piles of smoking
ash.
The crowd had never seen special
effects like this before. They were cheering, whistling, stamping their
feet. The applause was deafening. To tell the truth, Bill and Ted
had never seen anything like it before either.
"Dude," said Ted, awestruck,
"where'd they go?"
"I dunno, dude."
The Grim Reaper brushed and buffed his
fingernails and tried to look modest. "Really, guys," he said,
"I'm surprised you had to ask."
"They've been reaped?"
"Totally," said the Grim
Reaper.
Bill pointed to the floor.
"So you'll be seeing them later . . . down there."
"Yup," said Death.
"Well, let me give you a piece of
advice, dude," said Ted. "Don't play Battleship with
them. It's not your game."
"Don't worry," said Death.
"So who was that guy?" asked
Bill.
Mrs. Wardroe walked out onto the
stage. "Perhaps I can answer that question for you, gentlemen."
"Mrs. Wardroe . . . " said
Bill.
"Thanks for the help," said
Ted.
"Yah, we definitely - "
"Whooooaaaa!" said Bill and
Ted. "Another one!"
Mrs. Wardroe was doing an Evil Bill and
Evil Ted, totally tearing apart her body, but instead of yet another enemy
emerging, a very friendly and welcome figure appeared. Mrs. Wardroe's
face disappeared, and in her place was Rufus, cool Rufus, Bill and Ted's
mentor and guide in all things having to do with time travel.
"Rufus!" yelled Bill and Ted.
"Rufus!" yelled the
princesses.
"Ruuuufusssss!" said
Good Robot Bill and Good Robot Ted.
"Station!" said you-know-who.
"How long have you been here,
dude?" asked Bill excitedly.
"I got here just in time for your
audition, William."
"So you were Mrs. Wardroe all
along?"
"That's right."
"Then who's this?" asked
Ted, mystified.
Rufus pointed to the pile of dust that
had once been De Nomolos. "That, amigos, was Mr. De Nomolos . . . my
old gym teacher and the sit-up champ of the twenty-seventh century. A man
whose ideals were so incongruous with the times that he had to force others to
share his world view . . . but, fortunately, thanks to you, he has failed."
Bill looked at the pile of smoking ash
and shook his head. "A most ignoble ending, Mr. De Nomolos."
"But we're glad you came to
it," said Ted.
The comic book
adaptation also included this scene:
Excerpts from
this scene were also featured on the Pro Set trading cards: