Ben madly drove to the airport.  He was going to be late for the nine o'clock plane!  Ben sprinted through the airport, stopping just long enough to drop off his luggage.  Then he made a mad dash to the red gates, only slowing down to go through security.  Ben thought he saw the gate.  There was someone who looked like his Spanish teacher.  It was dark, but Ben could just make out what looked like writing in Spanish on the airplane through the glare on the plate glass window.  He dashed to the terminal.  Flight 116 was loading on one side of the terminal and Flight 117 was loading on the other.  The stewardess was making the final boarding call for Ben's flight; then another stewardess made the final boarding call for the adjacent flight.  Ben dashed by the stewardess, flashing his ticket, and he was past her before she could check his ticket.  Ben found his seat in coach and stashed his carry-on luggage.  Ben patiently watched the stewardess give a quick safety equipment demonstration.  Ben looked around for his Spanish class.  He saw the someone that looked like his teacher, at least from behind.  Ben didn't see the rest of his group.  Maybe they could afford first class.  Then Ben buckled up for take-off and put on his headphones.

Ben was so wrapped up in his music that he missed the captain's welcome.  This was unfortunate, since the captain was welcoming passengers to Flight 117, which was flying non-stop to Peru.  Ben was supposed to be on Flight 116 to Mexico.  Ben had chosen the wrong terminal to enter in his haste.

Some time much later, Ben stretched and buckled up as the plane was cleared for landing.  After touchdown, Ben got off of the plane.  Somehow the airport was much smaller than he though it would be for a vacation spot that was so popular.  Ben shrugged, and went to pick up his luggage at the baggage claim.  His luggage wasn't there.  Ben sighed.  Missing luggage wasn't unusual for an airport.  He'd have to call the airline later and see what could be done about it.  At least he still had his carry-on luggage and his wallet.  Meanwhile, Ben had to find his group and his teacher.

Ben didn't see anyone that he recognized.  The person who he had thought was his Spanish teacher wasn't him.  Ben walked around the airport in confusion, then gave up looking and decided to just leave the airport.  Somehow the city didn't look like he had expected either.  Where were the palm trees?  Where was the city, for that matter?  This was a small community.  And where had those mountains come from?  He was supposed to be on a stretch of the coast that wasn't close to any mountains.  Then Ben looked back at the airport.  Hang on...what did the sign say?  Remote Location Peru National Airport?!  Finally Ben realized his error.  Ben closed his eyes in frustration, then slapped his forehead and said, "Doh!"

Ben was extremely upset.  He wandered around aimlessly, wondering how he could have been so dumb.  Actually, he thought it had been quite easy to be that dumb.  Ben realized that he had wandered out of the remote location of Remote Location into the even more remote surrounding mountain countryside.  Then, Ben tripped over a large rock.  Ben kicked over the offending rock, only to see something hidden underneath it.

Ben put down his duffel bag and stooped to look at whatever was under the rock.  Ben picked it up.  It appeared to be a very old map.  There was spidery old-fashioned Spanish writing on it.  Ben could just make out the words and did a quick translation.  Golden...Temple of...something.  The last word didn't appear to be Spanish.  It was spelled S-P-A-M.  Spam?!  that kind of canned meat?  Why would there be a centuries old map with Spam written on it?  Spam wasn't even invented until the second world war.  What was the word Spam doing on that map?  Could there be a Golden Temple of Spam?  it just didn't make any sense.  It was a mystery, and Ben knew that he had to solve it.

It was starting to get dark, so Ben decided to head back towards the village of Remote Location.  Ben went to the first house that he saw and knocked on the door.  An old man answered the door.  Ben asked, "Where can I find a hotel to stay in?"

The old man said, "There aren't any hotels, motels, or even RV parks in Remote Location.  But hey, you can stay with me as long as you need to."

"Thanks!"

"No problem, man.  The name's Bernie.  C'mon in."

Ben went into Bernie's house and joined him in a supper of Spam and Jolt cola.  Over dinner, Ben showed the old map to Bernie.  "Hey!  I know where this Temple is.  It's up in the mountains, about a half a day's walk to the north.  It's only about an hour by motorcycle.  Would you like to borrow mine?"

"Sure!  I'll leave tomorrow morning then."

The next morning, Ben packed a couple of Spam sandwiches and a can of Jolt for lunch.  Then he waved good bye to Bernie, put on the helmet, and started up the Harley.  Ben rode off through the countryside down an old dirt road, stopping occasionally to check the map and take a sip of Jolt.  Finally, Ben spotted the mountain.

Ben saw the Temple.  It was kind of hard not to see it, since it was sitting there shining gaudily on the top of the mountain.  It was about 1,000 feet to the Temple, so Ben started climbing.

Much later, having only stopped to eat his sandwich, Ben reached the Golden Temple of Spam.  It really was golden, shining brightly in the sun.  The Temple was your standard Incan temple design, except that each layer of the temple was shaped like a can of Spam, and there appeared to be some sort of tab on the roof.  Ben began to climb the steps towards the Temple, passing statue upon statue of cans of Spam and figures that looked like aliens.

Ben entered the Temple, and his eyes were drawn to the altar in the front of the Temple.  As Ben approached the altar, he could see something golden laying on it.  Ben reached the altar and bent over to get a closer look at the golden object.  Ben picked it up, took one look, and exclaimed incredulously, "Elvis?!  An ancient Inca temple, dedicated to Spam with a golden statue of Elvis in it?"  He promptly screamed and passed out.

When Ben came to, he decided to search the Temple for anything that would give him a clue as to why the demented Temple was there and how in the world Elvis got on the altar.  Ben searched every nook and cranny, trying to find his evidence.  All that he found were more priceless artifacts made of pure gold: nothing valuable.  Finally, Ben came across a network of knotted strings.  He remembered that these quipus were how the Incas recorded their history.  Ben pocketed it, and swiped the statue as a souvenir.  Then he took a generic looking priceless artifact that he figured he could exchange for plane fare back home and left the Temple.

When Ben made it back to the village of Remote Location, he went to see Bernie.  Ben asked Bernie if he knew anyone who could read the Incan knots.  The old man said, "I just happen to know how."

Ben wondered if there was anything that Bernie couldn't do.

Bernie looked over the knots for a while.  Then Bernie announced what they meant.  "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, there lived two alien races who wanted to dominate the universe.  They were the Elvi and the Spampeople.  They both landed here in Peru, hundreds of years ago.  The Incas were awed by these alien peoples that were trying to conquer then.  Out of respect, they built the Golden Temple of Spam to honor both peoples.  The Elvi were offended by the lack of items that honored them, so the fearful Incas introduced them to toast, their favorite food to this very day.  Eventually, the aliens became bored with our dull planet and left, rarely to return.

Ben was ecstatic.  He finally knew the answer to the great mystery of the Elvis statue and the Spam temple!  Now all Ben had to do was return home.

Ben told Bernie of his plan to sell the artifact to a museum.  Bernie said, "Sounds good to me.  Unfortunately, the nearest museum is in Lima.  Want a ride?"  Ben and Bernie agreed to set out for Lima in the morning.

After a breakfast of Jolt and jelly doughnuts, Ben climbed onto the back of Bernie's Harley while Bernie revved the engine.  It took what seemed like centuries for them to reach Lima.  Once they reached the museum, it took practically no time for Ben to pawn the artifact to a crooked curator in exchange for plane fare, plus some extra cash.  Next Ben and Bernie went to the airport.  Ben bought a ticket for the next plane to Minneapolis.  Ben thanked Bernie for all of his help.  "No problem," said Bernie.  "Come and visit me again some time.  We can go bungee jumping or something."

Ben caught his plane, the right plane this time, and sat back and relaxed.  Later, Ben was back at home.  Ben had had a lot of fun, despite his mistaken destination, but it was good to be back home.

And then Ben realized: he had never gotten his luggage back.

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