"Are you ready for this, Philly?"
Larry had walked Phil outside of the studio to show him the 'surprise' he'd been raving about for the past few days. It was still morningtime and both of them were still greasy and unshaven, wearing tank tops and boxers in the freezing cold.
"And you absolutely have to show me this now?" Phil asked the 'other' guitarist. Larry had his hands over Phil's eyes so that he wouldn't see the surprise before they got there. Fortunately for Phil, the break in his nose took a very short time to heal and the bandage had been removed. "What if a fan springs out from the bushes and takes off with my shorts?"
"It's called publicity, Phil. Now, we're goin' this way," Larry led Phil down the sidewalk in front of the studio. "Aaaand-"
Larry removed his hands from Phil's face to reveal the 'surprise'. Before the two guitarists, a huge red coach style bus, with the band's logo across the side, towered. It was quite the sight, polished and gleaming, casting its shadow over the two boys.
"Holy shit, Larry. How did you afford this!?" Phil gawped, leaning forward and pressing the entire front of his being onto the metal machine.
"Well...my mom's been saving up for me to go to college since I was born. She bought it for me. It's my first car!"
"This isn't a car, it's a beast! I think I'll name it Soupy..." Phil nuzzled the bus with his face. "Your momma's an angel, you know."
"You can't name my baby! I'm-a be the one driving! You 'n Robby 'n Tim get to enjoy the countryside."
"I don't think there's much 'countryside' in Philadelphia."
"There's countryside in Wyoming," Larry said, trying to sound intelligent. They had no intention, however, on getting anywhere near Wyoming during the tour. "So, you wanna see the inside'a this baby or what?"
"Sure." Phil lifted his head off of the bus and followed Larry to the doors. Larry unlocked them and they flung wide open.
"Oh yes," Larry said, placing his hand on one of the doors to stroke the glass and rubber, "she loves me so."
"You're a weirdo, Lars."
"Thank you, my good sir," Larry said, climbing inside the beast. "C'mon. Your mind's gonna be blown." Phil ascended the stairs into the bus after his psyched bandmate. There were cabinets and a minifridge inside, along with a table and bunk beds at the far end. "Of course," said Larry, "there's only space for three of us to sleep at a time...which is fine, 'cause I'll be driving as often as possible. And then somebody else can take the wheel. You or Tim, since Robby still isn't used to driving here."
"There are only two beds."
"Somebody can sleep on the couch!" Larry reached up over Phil's head and pressed a button on the wall near a small image of a curved arrow, which caused a couch to flip out of the wall behind him. "Already tested it. It's nice and comfy."
"Pretty cool," Phil said, "but whaddya got in the fridge?"
"Only the most awesome thing you could ever put in your mouth!" Larry said, strolling over to the fridge and pulling it open. Foggy, cold air spewed out. Larry bent over and reached in, then turned around and presented to Phil a box of Twinkies.
Phil snatched up the box. "These are mine, now." He opened the box, took out one of the delicious, cream-filled snacks and stuck the whole thing, wrapper included, into his mouth.
"And you call me a weirdo," Larry said, rolling his eyes. "Oh well, keep 'em. I can always get more."
Phil grumbled territorially at Larry. "'N those'll be mine, too."
"I'll make sure to stock up on 'em before we head out to Pittsburgh," Larry responded, laughing. "Now you can take those back to your room. And get Tim to come out here, too. He's gonna flip."
"Alrighty," Phil grumbled, with the Twinkie still in his mouth. He walked off of the bus into the cold morning air once more, still in his underclothes and no shoes. Before he reached the studio's glass doors, though, he heard a war cry come from the bus.
"Hi-ho tour bus, away!" and Larry took the tour bus for a spin.