What would anthropologists of the 25th Century think if hey unearthed a cache of 1993’s best offerings--Beavis, Butt-head and Barney among them? : Raiders of the Lost Toy Store

Five hundred years into the future: Construction workers break ground for a new wing of the Buttafuoco Family Fun Center and uncover what appears to be an ancient temple. It’s a cavernous white building with signs that depict some sort of giraffe god and the puzzling hieroglyphics Toys R Us. Inside is a maze of aisles lined with odd relics: stuffed animal life forms, a synthetic phlegm substance called Gak and portraits of two ancient philosophers--Beavis and Butt-head--with inscriptions of their sophisticated commentaries on 20th-Century life, including “That sucks!” and “Heh heh heh.”

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An expert is called in--cultural anthropologist Peter B. Hammond of UCLA (long since sold and renamed Time-Warner-Sony-Paramount-Viacom U.) to analyze the artifacts and what they say about primitive 1990s American society.

Wearing a faded pair of Levi’s 5,001 laser-fly jeans, Hammond descends into the underground chamber. It is, he pronounces, a remarkable find. Not only are the building’s contents perfectly preserved, they also offer startling insights into the customs, politics and religious beliefs of ancient Americans.

Near the temple entrance, for example, he encounters row upon row of miniature internal-combustion transport devices called Hot Wheels. “These might well be the kind of things that were enclosed in tombs to assure the dead of transportation in the afterworld,” Hammond says.

Exploring further, he finds dozens of plastic figurines modeled after leaders of a “World Wrestling Federation,” possibly a peacekeeping organization similar to today’s United Nations and Planets.

Noting the pumped-up bodies and curiously tiny heads on the figurines (and on a creature named Batman), Hammond concludes that the culture must have believed “strength came from physical power instead of the intellect. . . . These idols are almost pinheads. They aren’t the kind of guys who look disposed to sit down and talk about things or discuss their feelings.”

Likewise, a series of armored robotic warriors called Mighty Morphin Power Rangers are clearly relics of a society that put its faith in “machines, technological prowess (and) science to overcome evil.”

A nearby cache of realistic rifles and machine guns were apparently used to “socialize children to favor militaristic solutions to problems,” he adds.

Elsewhere in the buried temple, however, Hammond discovers evidence of the culture’s gentler, peaceful nature: a “cute, lovable” mutant vegetable called Mr. Potato Head and a talking purple dinosaur named Barney.

Although some modern historians have linked Barney to the decline of early Western civilization, Hammond hypothesizes that he was a “comforting, soothing” presence who probably offered children feelings of protection and love.

Barney was found in a section of the building devoted to a primitive form of taxidermy in which now-extinct species of miniature bears and other mammals were stuffed with a since-outlawed fiber known as polyester.

These stuffed animals might have represented “a pantheon of minor deities,” the anthropologist says. Or perhaps they were created to help youngsters “objectify and reduce their fears” by giving them “monsters” small enough to control and manage.

The strangest part of the temple is an aisle full of pink boxes containing small, blond, female Homo sapiens who possess no reproductive organs. The boxes are inscribed with “an ancient variety of English,” Hammond says, “and one particular word-- Barbie --seems to be repeated over and over. We don’t know if it’s part of some ritual incantation or maybe an invocation to a deity.”

It’s also possible the plastic statuettes are “representations of a cultural ideal . . . a very glamorous, romanticized image. We see (Barbie) driving a convertible, having her hair done, taking a bubble bath, having a candlelight dinner with her boyfriend, putting on makeup, sunbathing by a swimming pool.

“But there’s no sign of the real, hard work involved in being a human during that period of American history. We don’t see her trying to clean the ring around the bathtub or balancing the checkbook. . . . She has no wrinkles.”

Nevertheless, the Barbie section does provide us with “a pretty complete profile of 20th-Century America,” Hammond says.

“This was an industrially based society that produced a surplus of goods. It probably had a centralized political system to manage its economy. (And it apparently) was ethnically stratified because the Barbies of color are given only token representation and have very Caucasian features.”

Primitive United Statesians also seem to have been “an extremely narcissistic people,” Hammond says. “They apparently had a preoccupation with clothing, makeup and hair. . . . They were very heavily into self-decoration as a form of aesthetic expression.”

A more unusual form of aesthetic expression turns up a few aisles away in plastic figurines labeled Coneheads. “I would assume (this indicates) there were people in this society who engaged in head-bandaging to induce a change in cranial structure as a mark of beauty,” Hammond says. “But we’re not sure just how they were able to do it.”

Several other finds are equally enigmatic.

A shrine to compact radio transmitting devices--labeled walkie-talkies--suggests a society so “obsessed with technology” that communication gadgetry almost became more important than communication itself, Hammond says.

Yet nearby is “Ask Zandar, the Talking Electronic Fortunetelling Game,” which demonstrates--despite the culture’s technological advances--a continuing fascination with magic and the transcendent.

Elsewhere, Hammond notes that nearly every object in the buried temple seems designed specifically for use by either a male or a female human, but not both: “It’s surprising, because other data we have on this society show confusion over gender roles.”

Finally, there is a baffling prehistoric lawn-cutting device called the Bubble Mower, which emits soap bubbles as it operates.

“What do bubbles have to do with cutting grass?” Hammond wonders. “This is a very mysterious culture we’re dealing with.”

Of course, there is one other possible explanation, he says:

“Maybe all these things were just toys.”