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回到未来 Back to the Future


The "Fake" Back to the Future Script.  
Based upon a Novelization of the Original first draft script.
The Real Original can be read here: http://www.scifiscripts.com/scripts/back_to_the_future_original_draft.html

BACK TO THE FUTURE

Screenplay by Robert Zemeckis & Bob Gale

Mach 11, 1980

INT. ORPHEUM THEATER - LABORATORY OF PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN

The credits began to roll across the TV screen for the movie  Close 
Encounters as the 3/4-inch cassette finished copying over to Beta and 
VHS. Seventeen-year-old Marty McFly looks up from his issue of Rolling 
Stone, where he was checking out an ad for a guitar amp. Maybe after a 
few more pirated tapes he would have enough money to buy it.

Marty sets the magazine down and stops the tapes, rewinds them, then 
takes a pen and carefully writes, Close Encounters, Original Edition on 
the labels. He places the master tape in a drawer. Other titles of 
bootlegged videotapes jump out at him as he does so: The Empire Strikes 
Back, Stir Crazy, and  Superman II.

Marty turns off the video equipment and picks up his schoolbooks, along 
with the other two videocassettes. He walks into another room connected 
to the video lab. This one is much larger, filled with workbenches 
covered with electronics, chemical equipment, and dust.

MARTY
Professor Brown! It's almost eight thirty -- I'm outta here!

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Shhhhhhhh!

Professor Emmett Brown hissed, his white head bent over what looked to 
Marty like a solar cell. At 65, he was considered the town eccentric, 
an inventor who's inventions didn't always work the way they were 
supposed to. Professor Brown was tall -- though his posture had grown 
more hunched with age -- and had a mane of shaggy white hair that was 
almost always unruly and uncombed. At the moment, the Professor tries 
to get the cell positioned under the skylight in a certain way, maybe 
to catch the sunlight. Marty stepped closer to him, curious on what the 
project was.

Whatever he was working on it looked old, maybe 30 years. The Professor 
pours some kind of chemical solution into a compartment in the cell and 
plugs a patch cord from it into a Voltmeter. A light bulb on the panel 
glows dimly and the meter needles moves slightly.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Blast it! Twenty four measly volts!

Professor Brown throws a flask across the room in his frustration, 
shattering it against the wall. Marty jumps back, startled. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
The power of a million hydrogen bombs!
(pointing to the sun that shone down though the skylight, then to his 
experiment)
...and we get twenty four measly volts. It's not fair! I've been 
working on this power converter since 1949, and you'd think in all that 
time, I could find the right chemicals that would efficiently convert 
radiation into electric energy! But no! Thirty three years of 
dedication and research, and all I've got to show for it is a bootleg 
video operation!

MARTY
That reminds me, if we could scrape up enough for a 35 film chain, I've 
got a connection with a projectionist in a first run house -- we could 
be sellin' new movies on the street before they're even in the theater.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
A 35mm film chain... I'll see what I can do.... 

He turns his attention back to his power converter. Marty crosses the 
room, heading for the front door. He pauses at the door next to it, the 
one with five locks on it, and tried the knob. It was still locked. Big 
surprise, he thought with some disappointment.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Won't give up, will you, Marty? 

Professor Brown asks without turning around. Marty grins.

MARTY
One of these days you're gonna leave this door open and I'll find out 
what's in there.

Professor Brown glances at him.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Did you ever consider that some doors are locked for a reason?

MARTY
Nope. The way I figure it, doors are made to be opened. See you after 
school.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Oh -- Marty -- what time did you say it was?

Marty stopped in his tracks, a few steps away from the stairs.

MARTY
Eight thirty.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
AM or PM?

MARTY
(rolls his eyes) Pro, the sun's out!

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
 Oh, right, right... (glancing up at the skylights)

MARTY
Jeez, for a guy with a ton of clocks, you sure don't pay much attention 
to time.

Professor Brown looks quickly at all the synchronized clocks around the 
room.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
On the contrary, (standing up and walking toward Marty) I may not pay 
much attention to the measurement of time, but I'm very aware of Time 
itself. I believe time to be its own dimension... to be controlled... 
to be contained....

Marty runs down the stairs, having had enough of the Professor's weird 
ramblings.

MARTY
Catch you later! (he called over his shoulder)

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
(continues speaking to the empty room) ...To be traveled through

He reached into his lab coat pocket and pulled out some keys. One-by-
one, the Professor unlocks the locks on the door. Finally, he opens it 
and walked inside.

INT. LABORATORY OF PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN - LOCKED ROOM

A tangle of equipment was in the center of the room with a number of 
lenses at the end of the maze. It resembled nothing so much as a large 
ray gun or laser. Professor Brown stood back and admired it. If only I 
could harness enough power! he said wistfully.

EXT. ORPHEUM THEATRE - MORNING

Marty opened the door at the end of the stairs and stepped out on the 
street before the Orpheum Theater. The place had been abandon years 
before, it's windows boarded over. The marquee still spelled out the 
last movie that had played there,  Assembly of Christ. Professor Brown 
resided on the third floor of the structure, the only person who used 
the premises now.

Marty walked down the street, headed for Wilson's Cafe. Parked a 
hundred feet down the street was a black van. The sign on it read 
N.R.C. and two men were carefully putting samples of water from a 
gutter into little test tubes. Marty glanced at them for a moment, 
somewhat curious. They ignored him. He reached the cafe and went 
inside.

INT. WILSON'S CAFE

The owner, Dick Wilson, was sitting behind the counter. Only thirty-
five, he already had lost more hair than remained on his head. Even 
though he was a good hundred pounds overweight, he was eating a Babe 
Ruth candy bar while reading a newspaper.

MARTY
Morning Dick.

DICK
(setting the candy bar down) Marty. What's for breakfast?

MARTY
Gimme some chili, fries, and a Tab.

Marty glanced down at the newspaper lying on the counter.

DICK
Hot tip, (bringing Marty his drink) Rubber Biscuit in the third race at 
Arlington.

MARTY
(nods) Dick, what's with those guys out there in the gutter? (tilting 
his head towards the window)

DICK
(squints out the window and shrugs) Third time they've been out there 
this week.

 Marty watches them for a moment, loading up the water samples in the 
van. 

MARTY
What's N.R.C.?

DICK
(shrugs again) I don't know. National Cash Register?

INT. HIGH SCHOOL

Later that afternoon, Marty stared at the textbook page in his hand. It 
showed a photo of a mushroom cloud with the words, Last above ground 
atomic test, March 18, 1952, Atkins, Nevada. He took his pen and wrote 
the letters M.M + S.P. on the cloud and drew and arrow through it, like 
a valentine. He added at the bottom, How about the dance Saturday? 
We'll have a BLAST!
In the background his science teacher, Mr. Arky, droned on with the 
day's lecture. 

MR. ARKY
There were only three above ground Atomic Tests in the United States, 
so the government took every opportunity to study the effects of 
radiation. Actual single family tract homes were constructed on the 
test site, totally furnished with refrigerators, TV's, furniture....

What a waste of perfectly good stuff, Marty thought.

MR. ARKY
...Anything you could find in a typical home, just so scientists could 
learn what kind of damage an atomic bomb would do to a typical town. 
They even put mannequins in the houses, just like in auto crash tests.

Marty tore the page with the picture and note out of his book. He 
turned to look at Suzy Parker, the pretty alburn-haired girl across the 
aisle and a seat behind him. He quickly folded the page and winked at 
her before tossing it deftly on her desk. The teacher didn't notice.

MR. ARKY
But the fact remains that today, thirty years after those early nuclear 
tests, the threat of nuclear annihilation is as great as it ever was. 
Certainly, nuclear annhiliation is something you all must have thought 
about. Any questions, comments, ideas?

 No, Marty thought, glancing around. Everyone in the class apparently 
agreed with him.

MR. ARKY
Anyone? I'm talking about the complete and total destruction of the 
entire world. Doesn't anybody have anything to say about it?

No one raised a hand. Mr. Arky's face began to turn red.

MR. ARKY
How about you, Mr. Jackson? he asked, raising his voice. Would you like 
to share some of your wisdom with the class?

Jackson didn't look up from the textbook, ignoring the teacher. Marty 
felt something brush against his foot and looked down to see the folded 
note that he had given Suzy on the floor. He leaned over and scooped it 
off the floor. Mr. Arky continued to ask for volunteers.

MR. ARKY
Mr. Gomez? Any thoughts? Miss Parker? Mr. Crump, any reaction?

Marty unfolded the note and looked at it. Beside the cloud the words, 
That's sick! had been written in loopy cursive. Marty turned the page 
over. On the back was the word, Yes. He smiled, then was rudely snapped 
out of his thoughts by the science teacher's irritating voice.

MR. ARKY
How about you, Mr. McFly?

Arky asked, strolling over to his desk. Marty quickly crumpled the note 
and shoved it in his pocket before the teacher could see it. He stared 
at his graffittied desk top, wishing Mr. Arky would go away. 

MR. ARKY
Did you even hear the question, Mr. McFly?

Marty looked up, facing the inevitable. He might as well give his 
honest opinion.

MARTY
Yeah... You want to know what I think about atomic bombs. Well, I'd 
kind of like to see one.

Mr. Arky leaned forward so his face was a few inches from Marty's.

MR. ARKY
You'd like to see a nuclear holocaust?

MARTY
Not a holocaust -- 

MR. ARKY
Mr. McFly here wants to nuke it all, just so he can see it!

A couple students started to laugh. Marty sat up straighter, glared at 
the teacher.

MARTY
You know damn well that's not what I meant.

MR. ARKY
All I can say is, that's one helluva attitude, Mr. McFly. 'Let's 
explode a hundred megaton Geothermal nuclear device, just to see it.' 

Marty felt his face turn red with anger and embarrassment.

MARTY
Yeah, explode it up your ass!

MR. ARKY
Unfortunately, the way things are going, you may get your wish. You may 
see the entire annhiliation of the world. If not, you'll certainly see 
the destruction of all out natural resources. We can already see the 
air we breathe, not to mention the pollution in our rivers and lakes. 
We'll  see all of our oil reserves depleted, in fact, all of our energy 
sources. Yes, you people have a lot to look forward to -- a lot to see.

MARTY
Hey, Mr. Arky, gimme a break! (rolling his eyes) I'm seventeen years 
old! I'm not responsible for all these problems!

The anger in Mr. Arky's face suddenly vanished. He sighed, a sound of 
defeat.

MR. ARKY
No, of course you're not. Not for the problems, no. But for the 
solutions...yes.

The bell rang, ending the school day. Everyone leaped out of their 
desks and rushed for the door. 

MR. ARKY
See you tomorrow.

EXT. HIGH SCHOOL

Ten minutes later, Marty was outside at the front of school, heading 
for a group of his friends, who were already giving other students 
videotapes in return for cash.

RAFE NEWTON
Hey Marty, (heading his way) sport me fifty 'til the weekend, would ya? 
I'm down to my last twenty.

Marty shook his head. 

MARTY
Can't man. I'm savin' up for that new amp.

RAFE NEWTON
Well, when you're a big rock star, how about loanin' me a grand?

MARTY
You got it! (checking his watch) I gotta go.

Donaldson, one of his friends, stood next to him. He looked at Marty's 
watch.

DONALDSON
Hey man, what happened to your digital quartz?

MARTY
In the shop, so I'm sporting this antique. (lifts his left hand with 
the watch on it) Check out this wind-up action, (pointing to the gold 
timepiece)

Donaldson looked at it with minor interest as the both of them went 
down the front steps of the school.

DONALDSON
Hey, you wanna come over?  Get high?

MARTY
Maybe tomorrow. I gotta dupe some more tapes.

Donaldson snapped his fingers.

DONALDSON
Hey, that reminds me -- my brother's gettin' married next week and I'm 
throwin' a party for him. Can you provide some entertainment?

Marty nodded, having the perfect thing in mind.

MARTY
Yeah, I can run something off this afternoon.

INT. ORPHEUM THEATER - LABORATORY OF PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN

The man and woman were really going at it now, breathing hard and 
moaning. Typical sounds of sex. Marty watched for a moment, then shook 
his head and turned away from the porno video he was copying for his 
friend. Twisting the volume down as the couple started to get really 
noisy, he fished some cash out of his pocket and placed it in the cigar 
box where he was storing all the money he was saving to use for that 
new amp. He got up from his chair and walked out of the room into 
Professor Brown's lab.

The Professor was lying on his cot, asleep, with a heavy blanket 
covering him. Marty walked quietly over to the refrigerator and opened 
it, taking out a bottle of Coke. As he was pulling the soft drink out, 
his hand accidentally bumped against an orange lying beside it. Before 
he had a chance to catch it, it bounced out of the fridge and rolled 
across the floor, vanishing under the cot.

Marty set down the Coke on top of the fridge and bent down to picked 
the orange up. He pushed aside the blanket and saw a crate, purple 
radioactive emblems on it. Marty frowned as he read the labels. Extreme 
Danger! Radioactive Plutonium! Authorized Personal Only! Do Not Handle 
Without Radiation Suit. Near the bottom were the words, Property of San 
Onofre Nuclear Power Plant, San Onofre, California.

Right next to the word California was the orange. Taking a deep breath, 
Marty stood up and kicked the orange out from under the cot with his 
right foot. He slowly backed away, his eyes on the crate, before 
picking the orange up and tossing it into the trash can next to the 
refrigerator. Marty glanced at the Professor, relieved to see that he 
hadn't woken up.

Trying to forget what he had seen, Marty picked the Coke bottle up and 
twisted the cap off, taking a quick swig from it before walking over to 
a cage with an organ-grinder monkey in it.

MARTY
Hey, Shemp. (softly) How ya doin'?

The monkey gazed back at him with dark eyes. Marty unlatched the cage 
door and let the animal out. Shemp quickly climbed up his arm and sat 
on his shoulder. Marty crossed the room, over to the table where the 
power converter was still set up, resting on some old blueprints. He 
leaned over for a closer look at those.

The top blueprint was for something called, Photo-Electric Chemical 
Power Converter. The sketch on the blueprint matched the power 
converter that the Professor had been messing with earlier. Marty 
flipped that blueprint back to look at the others one-by-one. 15 Tube 
Mechanical Home Butler. It looked like some kind of robot. Aero-Mobile, 
a weird-looking flying car. And a Write-O-Matic, which looked like a 
pen with a suction cup at the end of an attached wire.
Marty let the blueprints flip back and stared at the power onverter. 
The last few rays of the afternoon sunlight filtered through the 
skylight and shone down on the photo-cell. Marty looked closer and 
noticed a funnel shaped thingy jutting out of the chemical chamber. He 
looked at it for a moment, temptation building, then reached over and 
poured some of the Coke in the funnel.
He hadn't even pulled his arm back when a bright spark shot out of the 
opposite end of the device, making a loud cracking noise. Marty jumped 
several feet away, his heart pounding, almost dropping the bottle in 
his hand.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
What happened?! 

The Professor jumped out of his bed and ran over to the table where the 
power converter sat.

MARTY
Well, I'm not sure exactly -- I accidentally spilled some Coke in here. 
(pointing to the funnel) Just a drop!

The Professor quickly hooked up the voltmeter and light bulb to the 
converter.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Give me that!

Professor Brown snatched the bottle from Marty's hands. He poured some 
more of the drink into the funnel. The bulb started glowing brightly 
and the meter jumped. The whole thing started to make a humming noise. 
Professor Brown dumped in more Coke. The light grew even brighter, then 
suddenly exploded!
Marty flinched, but didn't turn away. He was dying to know what that 
thing was supposed to be doing. He wanted to know almost as bad as he 
wanted to get into that locked room several feet away. The voltmeters 
needle raised off the scale as the power converter began to vibrate, so 
violently that it fell off the table!
The Professor stared at the floor where the converter lay, his hands 
starting to tremble. He had a strange look on his face, disbelief mixed 
with excitement. He looked carefully at the Coke bottle.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
What's in this stuff?

Marty gave a shrug, not understanding why Professor Brown wanted to 
know.

MARTY
Nobody knows the formula for Coca-Cola. It's the most closely guarded 
secret in the world!

The Professor was silent for a moment, his gaze far away. He finally 
picked the power converter up and walked across the room, taking out a 
key ring from his pocket. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
I'll see you tomorrow!

He said as he began to unlock the forbidden door. Before Marty could 
ask him any questions, the Professor opened the door and shut it firmly 
behind him. Marty heard the sound of locks clicking into place, then 
all was silent.

INT. McFLY HOUSE - MARTY'S BEDROOM

That evening, wearing headphones plugged into his turntable, Marty 
walked around his bedroom, following the music on his own electric 
guitar. Posters of rock stars covered the surrounding walls. He was 
trying to find the drill he had been using earlier, moving the 
miscellaneous junk that covered his furniture and floor with the top of 
the guitar's neck. Under the Rolling Stone on the dresser were some 
tools -- but not the drill. A couple issues of Heavy Metal and the 
Lampoon hid some homework on the desk he had forgotten to turn in.

The record ended and Marty took the headphones off.

MARTY
Who stole my drill? (yelling out the door)

Marty's mom shouted a reply.

EILEEN
Dinner's ready!

With a sigh, Marty set his guitar down and went downstairs.

INT. McFLY HOUSE - LIVING ROOM

He stopped in the living room on the way to the kitchen. His father, 
George McFly, was sitting on the couch and watching a boxing match on 
the TV.

MARTY
Anybody seen the drill?

Dad continued to stare at the TV, ignoring or not hearing the question. 
Eileen McFly looked into the living room from the kitchen.

EILEEN
I've been calling you for five minutes! Didn't you hear me?

MARTY
I was practicing. I've got an audition next week -- I gotta practice. 
How am I gonna get famous if I don't practice?

Mom shook her head. Once, a long time ago, she had been quite 
attractive. Now, at the age of 47, it was easy to see the toll age had 
taken. Her brown hair was streaked with grey and her face was puffy, 
lined with wrinkles. Both of Marty's parents hadn't aged that 
gracefully.

EILEEN
You won't get famous if you don't eat, either!

She ducked back into the kitchen.

Marty turned back to his dad.

MARTY
Dad, you seen the drill?

GEORGE
What drill?

MARTY
The drill! (exasperated) The power drill I bought you for Christmas. I 
was using it last night.

Dad didn't move his gaze from the TV.

GEORGE
It'll turn up.

Marty shook his head and went into the kitchen, sitting down as his 
mother put the food on the table. She leaned back into the living room.

INT. McFLY HOUSE - KITCHEN

EILEEN
George, dinner's ready!

Marty's father continued to stare at the TV, fully absorbed in the 
boxing match.

GEORGE
Coming, Eileen! 

He makes no move to get up.

EILEEN
Now, George! Dinner's ready now!

GEORGE
Coming, Eileen...

A moment later a commercial came on the TV and George McFly finally got 
up and started to roll the TV on it's stand to the dining room.

EILEEN
How was school today?

MARTY
Fine.

EILEEN
Learn anything?

MARTY
Oh yeah.

EILEEN
(smiles) That's good.

His dad finished adjusting the TV and sat down.

GEORGE
How was school today? (picking up a fork and starting to eat)

Hadn't he just done this?

MARTY
Fine..

GEORGE
Learn anything?

MARTY
Oh yeah.

GEORGE
Good.

Dad turned his eyes back to the TV as the match resumed. Marty looked 
down at the newspaper, examining the sports scores, and his mom stared 
off into space. There was complete silence, during which the 
sportscaster did his blow-by- blow on the TV. Eventually Mom spoke, 
during another commercial break.

EILEEN
By the way, that reminds me... (gesturing to the TV's burger ad) 
Saturday night we're taking Grandma Stella out for Chinese food.

GEORGE
Eileen, Chinese food again?

EILEEN
George, if you don't want Chinese food, pick a place you want to go and 
make a reservation.

MARTY
That means he'll have to pick up the phone, Ma.

As expected, his dad backed down.

GEORGE
No, Chinese food is fine.

MARTY
Saturday night's the 'Springtime in Paris' dance. I'm taking Suzy 
Parker.

EILEEN
(thoughtful) The 'Springtime in Paris' dance. You hear that, George? 
They're still having the 'Springtime in Paris' dance... That was our 
first date, remember George? I remember everything about that night. 
Remember the first time we kissed? It was during the last dance. They 
were playing that Eddie Fisher song, 'Turn Back the Hands of Time'. I 
even remember how you asked me out. We were in the cafeteria. You were 
so scared, you spilled your creamed corn.

Dad continued to look at the TV, not showing any sign of hearing his 
wife.

MARTY
And I probably won't be here when you wake up Sunday morning. Suzy and 
I are gonna go down to the lake and watch the sunrise.

His dad looked away long enough from the TV to frown at him.

GEORGE
The sunrise? What for?

MARTY
Jeez, what do you think? To see it!

His dad turned away to the TV, the look on his face puzzled. 
Unfortunately, his mom was not as easily distracted.

EILEEN
You mean you're going to stay up all night?

MARTY
Mom, how else are we gonna see the sunrise?

EILEEN
I don't think I like the idea of you staying out all night with a girl! 

Mom decided, shaking her head firmly. Marty rolled his eyes.

MARTY
Hey, Ma, gimme a break.

Before they could discuss the subject any further, there was a heavy 
pounding on the back door. 

EILEEN
Would you answer that, George?

Eileen asked when no one else made a move to. Her husband ignored her. 
Heaving a sigh, Marty finally stood up to answer it.

The visitor was not one of his favorite people. Biff Tannen stood on 
the porch, his stomach hanging over the pants in his security guard 
uniform. His shirt was untucked and the tie was undone. The patch on 
his shoulder read Special Security Officer. He was a 47-year-old jerk 
who liked to push his father around and Marty had no need for him 
whatsoever. Biff felt the same way about him.

BIFF
Well, well, he smirked when Marty opened the door. If it isn't the 
neighborhood bootlegger, Al Capone McFly?

MARTY
What do you want, Biff?

BIFF
Show me some respect, you little asshole. It's Special Officer Tannen 
to you.

MARTY
(mumbles) The day I show respect to Biff Tannen will be the day I win a 
million dollars... What's the matter, Biff, they're not showing you any 
respect down at the golf course? Don't they realize what a tough job it 
is keeping the criminal element away from the country club?

BIFF
Listen you little Asshole, I oughta --

MARTY
What do you want, Biff? 

BIFF
Where's your old man?

Marty took a step back and pointed over his shoulder to the kitchen. 
Biff pushed his way into the house and Marty saw he had a broken power 
drill and some bits in hand. He suddenly felt sick.

BIFF
Hey McFly, what's with this cheap-ass drill you're giving me? Thing 
burned up first time I used it! Almost ruined my whole engine block!

Marty shook his head in disgust as he sat down again at the table. His 
dad immediately turned away from the TV.

GEORGE
Uh -- Biff... (pointing to the bits) These are wood bits. Says so right 
here. You're not supposed to use them on your engine block.

BIFF
Look, McFly, I know a lot about tools. This is a cheep-ass drill! 
You're just lucky I didn't ruin my engine block. Next time you buy 
tools, let me know. I'll help you pick out some good ones.

He handed George the drill.

BIFF
Oh -- and one more thing. My kid's selling Girl Scout cookies. I told 
her you were good for four boxes. Don't make me a liar!

George nodded quickly and Biff left, slamming the door behind him. 
George turned to look at his wife, who gave at him a knowing, 
sympathetic look.

GEORGE
How do you like that guy, using wood bits on an engine block? (laughing 
nervously)

Marty couldn't take it anymore. He jumped up from the table and ran 
into the living room, grabbing his silver Porsche jacket out of the 
closet.

EILEEN
Where are you going?

EXT. McFLY HOUSE

Marty opened the front door and slammed it shut in reply. He pulled his 
jacket on as he crossed the front lawn. Reaching the mailbox, he gave 
the numbers on it, 777, a good slug, then kicked his dad's car beside 
it in the street for good measure.

EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD STREET - NIGHT

Half an hour later, he was walking down a neighborhood street with Suzy 
Parker. 

MARTY
...He just lets himself get pushed around all the time! People walk all 
over him and he never fights back, never stands up for himself.

SUZY
No self confidence, I guess... At least you don't take after him.

MARTY
Yeah... Jesus! I wonder how he ever got up enough nerve to marry my 
mom.

Suzy didn't say anything for a few moments. 

SUZY
Can you imagine your parents in bed together?

MARTY
No way!

SUZY
Me neither. I've always wondered whether they slept together before 
they got married. You think yours did?

MARTY
Hell no! The way my mom carries on about sex -- you even mention the 
word and she goes into cardiac arrest. You shoulda seen her face when I 
told her we were gonna stay up all night Saturday, he added. Always 
afraid something is going to happen.

SUZY
(suddenly coy) Is  something going to happen Saturday night?

Before Marty could answer her, a skateboard suddenly hit his foot. He 
looked up to see two kids about fifty feet down the street, running an 
obstacle course. The one who had been on the board was slowly getting 
to his feet off the asphalt. Marty jumped on the board and skated over 
to the kid. Maybe it was because Suzy was there, but he showed off as 
he weaved through the obstacle, jumping over the last one and landing 
perfectly, then flipping the board into the air and catching it. The 
kids were wide-eyed as Marty handed it to the owner.

KID
Wow, you're good!

Marty grinned and walked back over to an impressed Suzy.

MARTY
Just like riding a bike -- you never forget how to do it.

EXT. SUZY'S HOUSE

A minute later they were standing in front of Suzy's house.

SUZY
Well... she said slowly. Here we are...

They stared at each other for a moment.

MARTY
Thanks.

Marty said softly, leaning forward and kissing her.

Suzy smiled and walked to her door.

SUZY
See you later.

Marty watched her as she stepped inside, then turned around and started 
to walk back home.
 A black sedan slowly passed him. A moment later, Marty noticed 
headlights shining from behind him and whirled around to see that the 
black sedan had turned around and seemed to be following him. Marty saw 
the car had the letters N.R.C. on it, like that van had. He stepped to 
the side of the street, on the sidewalk, and the car pulled up beside 
him and stopped. Two tall men dressed in black suits got out. They 
looked like Secret Service men.

N.R.C. AGENT REESE
Good evening, one said. Agents Reese  (points to his buddy) and Foley, 
from the Nuclear Regulatory Commition. (pulls out ID and flashes it to 
Marty) Mind stepping over here?

MARTY
What's this all about?

N.R.C. AGENT FOLEY
Routine radiation check.

He took a Geiger counter from the car and ran it up and down Marty's 
body. Nothing happened until it got by his feet, especially his right 
foot. Then it made loud clicking noises. The two men exchanged some 
kind of look.

N.R.C. AGENT REESE
Have you got any identification? 

Marty handed him his wallet after a moment's hesitation.

MARTY
What, am I radioactive or something? 

N.R.C. AGENT REESE
No, no, not beyond an acceptable level. Have you been X-rayed recently, 
Martin?

N.R.C. AGENT FOLEY
Perhaps been in contact with some luminous paint? Foley added.

MARTY
(frowning at them) No...

N.R.C. AGENT REESE
Been any place unusual in the past twelve hours?

MARTY
Home, school, here... (shrugs)

N.R.C. AGENT FOLEY
Been in the vicinity of 2980 Monroe Avenue today? asked Foley.

MARTY
Where?

N.R.C. AGENT REESE
Over by the old Orpheum Theater.

Marty hesitated for a moment before answering. They were talking about 
where Professor Brown lived. He remembered the box he had seen under 
the bed. Suddenly, Marty had a million questions for the Professor. 

MARTY
No.

Reese finally handed him back his wallet. 

N.R.C. AGENT REESE
Okay, Martin. You have a good evening now.

MARTY
Yeah, (jamming his wallet back into his pocket) Right.

The two men got back into their car and drove off. Marty watched them a 
moment, then sprinted the other way down the street!

EXT. ORPHEUM THEATRE - NIGHT

Marty ran through the streets all the way to the Orpheum Theater. The 
street was deserted, save for a newspaper blowing down in the gutter. 
Reaching the door to the upstairs of the dilapidated building, Marty 
took hold of the knob and turned it. It resisted and he tried again, 
hoping it was stuck. He juggled it around but it didn't budge. No doubt 
about it. It was locked. Marty took a step back and looked up, at the 
third floor.

A moment later the quiet of the night was shattered by all three of the 
third floor windows being blown out by a huge gush of air! Jesus! Marty 
gasped, ducking his head as shreds of glass rained down. A moment later 
he tried the door again, but it was still locked.

After weighing the pros and cons of the matter, Marty broke the glass 
window in the door and reached around to unlock it himself.

INT. ORPHEUM THEATER - LABORATORY OF PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN

Once inside, he ran up the steps to the lab. The first thing he noticed 
was that the mysterious door with all the locks was completely  un 
locked! A crack of light shone brightly under the bottom of the door. 
Marty opened it up and stepped inside. He blinked, wondering if he was 
seeing right.

Professor Brown was standing next to what looked like a old furnace and 
hot water heater thrown together with some boiler room parts. He had 
one hand on a rope attached to a metal lever and was messing with some 
dials and gauges with the other hand. Shemp, wearing his organ grinder 
outfit, sat on a stool, a digital watch on a cord around his neck. Some 
kind of long tube with lenses in it was pointed at him.

MARTY
Professor! 

The Professor looked up, startled.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Get behind that lead shield!

The Professor ordered, pointing to a large grey sheet of metal next to 
the wall. Marty stared at him incredulously.

MARTY
But Professor --

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Get behind the shield! I'm about to release radiation!

Marty looked at him for a moment more, then darted behind the shield. 
He watched from around the side of it as the Professor pulled the rope 
a tiny bit. The next moment, all hell broke loose! The low hum all the 
machinery made grew louder and high pitched. Static electricity 
crackled in the air. The sounds grew louder and the monkey looked 
around, curious. A minute later, the Professor let go of the rope, his 
eyes on a watch, and a red beam of light -- like a laser -- hit Shemp 
directly in the chest.

Marty winced at the high pitched noise in the room. Less then a second 
after the laser -- or whatever it was -- hit the Professor's pet, Shemp 
vanished, taking the top of the stool with him! Air suddenly rushed 
into the room, whipping loose papers around. The noise died down and 
Marty stepped out from behind the shield, his heart pounding from all 
he had witnessed.

MARTY
Jesus!! Professor, you just disintegrated Shemp!

Professor Brown shook his head, a smile playing around his lips. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
No, Marty. Shemp's molecular structure is completely intact!

MARTY
Then where the hell is he?

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
The appropriate question to ask is when the hell is he! You see, Shemp 
has just become the world's first time traveller. I've sent Shemp into 
the future -- two minutes into the future to be exact.

MARTY
The future? What are you talking about? Where's Shemp?!

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Shemp is right here in this room...two minutes from now, and at exactly 
9:02PM, we'll catch up to him.

MARTY
Now hold on a minute, Professor! Hold the phone. Are you trying to tell 
me that this -- all of this here -- that this is -- it's a -- a -- 

For some reason, he couldn't get the words out.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
...a time machine.

Professor Brown confirmed with a nod.

Marty found a chair and sat down in it quickly before his legs could 
give out on him.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
I always knew it would work! I knew it would work when I built it 
thirty three years ago. But I was never able to harness enough power to 
test it. Power is the key. Massive amounts of energy to accelerate 
matter to the speed of light while creating an intense gravitational 
field. But generating that kind of energy has never been possible... 
until this afternoon.

Marty took a couple of deep breaths as he waited for the room to stop 
spinning around him.

MARTY
A time machine! Because of that Coke?!

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Precisely! (nods)

He walked around the room, pointing out various parts of the machinery 
as explained.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
The power converter, now operating at peak efficiency, thanks to the 
chemical makeup of Coca-Cola, channels energy into the flux capacitor, 
which releases several jigowatts in a fraction of a millisecond. 
Electron acceleration takes place here... and the result is the 
temporal displacement beam you saw a few moments ago. The entire 
process is triggered when I release the rope.

Marty finally stood, his legs still shaking a little from the shock.

MARTY
I thought that power converter thing operated on solar energy. There's 
no sun, (pointing to the ceiling and walls)

Not only was it night out, but all the windows had heavy shades drawn 
over them.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Solar energy would have worked just fine...if I could have placed the 
converter about a mile from the surface of the sun. Instead, I've 
created similar conditions in this reactor here. (pointing to the rope) 
The higher I raise the cadmium rods, the more energy I release from the 
plutonium core, and the further through time I can send an object.

Marty snapped his fingers, suddenly remembering.

MARTY
The plutonium! That's what I came over here for! Professor, where did 
you get that stuff?

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Why?

The inventor stared at him with suspicious, his eyes narrowed.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
I just got stopped in the street by federal agents checking me for 
radiation! I figure they're after your plutonium!

Professor Brown looked over at a digital clock on the wall. Marty 
followed his gaze and saw that it was 9:01:50. Almost two minutes had 
passed since the experiment. It had felt like twice that long.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Ten seconds! 

The Professor dashed over to the place where his beam had hit Shemp. 
Marty ran after him, stopping when his friend raised an arm.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Brace yourself for a sudden displacement of air!

 Marty watched the clock. The seconds lasted forever. 
9:01:55...56...57... 58...59...

At that moment, a strong wind gusted in the room and Shemp suddenly 
appeared, literally out of thin air. The top of the stool came back 
with him and fell to the ground. The monkey screeched as he hit the 
ground and scrambled onto some equipment nearby.

MARTY
Shemp!

Professor Brown walked calmly over to the animal and picked him up. He 
quickly looked him over, the monkey squirming to get free, then 
examined the watch around his neck. He held it up for Marty to see. 
9:00:10. Marty checked the clock on the wall. 9:02:10.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Exactly two minutes difference... (triumphantly) and it's still 
ticking!

MARTY
Is Shemp all right?

Professor Brown set the monkey down on the ground he quickly ran off to 
the other side of the room.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Of course. Shemp is unaware that anything even happened, other than his 
stool suddenly falling over. We had to wait two minutes to catch up to 
him, but for Shemp the trip was instantaneous.

MARTY
Professor, can this thing send Shemp back in time?

The Professor thought about that for a moment.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Theoretically, yes, if I were to reverse the polarity.

He pointed to a switch near the rope with a plus and minus at opposite 
ends. It was currently up in the plus position.

MARTY
Jeez, Professor, you've got a gold mine here!

The Professor frowned, as if he didn't understand. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
A gold mine?

MARTY
Sure! Listen -- we take the racing results from today's paper...

He grabbed an newspaper from earlier that day at a nearby table and 
quickly flipped through to the sports scores.

MARTY
Here they are. We send 'em with Shemp back to yesterday, we get the 
information, put our money on the winning horses, and become 
billionaires!

Professor Brown started to shake his head.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Marty, that would alter history.

MARTY
So what? We'd be rich!

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Don't you understand? The mere act of sending matter back in time would 
change the course of events, and changing history is a responsibility 
that I do not wish to bear.

Marty sighed, lowering the paper.

MARTY
All I know is you're throwing away an awful lot of money.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
The future, Marty, the future is everything! I built this machine to 
see the future. So I am going to send Shemp twenty-four hours into the 
future. You can assist me, if you like.

MARTY
Sure, he agreed quickly.

The Professor left the room for a moment, saying something about a 
cassette recorder. Marty waited for a second, then quickly ripped the 
racing results off the sports page and circled the date with a pen that 
had been in his pocket. He went over to Shemp, stuffed the clipping in 
the pocket on his vest, then glanced out the door. The Professor was 
rifling through the papers on his desk, his back to the door. Marty 
rushed over to the polarity switch and yanked the lever to the minus 
sign. A couple seconds later, Professor Brown returned, a Micro-
cassette recorder in hand. He locked the door, then handed the recorder 
to Marty.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Take this, stand at the panel.(pointing to a wall of switches near the 
beam) and read off the radiation levels. I want to have a record of 
what happens here. Be sure to tell me when we reach 85 rads.

Marty nodded and stepped over to the panel. Right before him was a 
meter with the rads levels. He had his eyes on it as Professor Brown 
fixed the stool a few feet away.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Come on, Shemp, this won't hurt a bit.

The Professor murmured as he picked up the monkey and placed him on the 
stool again. After doing that, he returned to the rope switch, across 
the room from where Marty stood and on the other side of Shemp. Marty 
watched him carefully, but he didn't seem to notice the lever at the 
minus sign.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Here we go!

The Professor warned, throwing a few switches. The equipment started 
humming again and Professor Brown slowly reached for the rope and 
started tugging on it.

MARTY
Radiation level, 10 rads.

Marty said looking at the meter, holding the microphone in the recorder 
up to his mouth as he spoke.

MARTY
Stabilization coefficient, .43. 16 rads coefficient .44. 37 rads, .46. 
51 rads, .46. 73 rads, .47...

Marty heard a loud noise from behind him and spun around to see the 
locked door kicked open. The dust hadn't even cleared before Marty 
realized it was the N.R.C. agents, Reese and Foley. Behind them he saw 
a huge throng of police and other official people. The agents jumped 
into the room with .38 guns drawn.

N.R.C. AGENT REESE
Everybody freeze! N.R.C.!

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Get back! 

Professor Brown cried, waving his left hand. The other one was still 
holding onto the rope.

N.R.C. AGENT FOLEY
Jesus Christ! (seeing the machine the Professor was standing beside) 
It's a Goddamn reactor!

Reese pointed his gun at Professor Brown. 

N.R.C. AGENT REESE
You! Shut it down! Now!

 Marty stared at the whole scene, mouth hanging open. He felt strangely 
detached from it, almost as if it was a play or a scene in a movie he 
was watching. The microphone fell from his hand, dangling on it's cord 
around his feet.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
No! . Get out! I'm in the middle of an experiment! 

He moved closer to the reactor, pulling the rope tighter as he did so. 
Foley didn't hesitate. He swung his gun at the Professor and squeezed 
the trigger. The loud bang echoed in the room. Shemp screeched and 
leaped off the stool. Marty watched, horrified, as the bullet hit his 
friend right in the chest. The Professor staggered back, hand still 
clenched around the rope. He fell backwards to the floor, the rope 
pulling taut as he landed.

MARTY
Professor! 

Marty yelled, finally finding his voice. He whipped his head to check 
the meter. 

MARTY
Oh my God! Release the rope! It's 4200 rads!

Reese stared at him, shaking his head. It was too noisy in the room for 
Marty to be heard. 

N.R.C. AGENT REESE
What?!

MARTY
Pro! Release the rope! 

It was so noisy he could hardly hear his own voice! Reese shook his 
head again. Marty started for the Professor himself. Foley turned the 
gun on him.

N.R.C. AGENT FOLEY
Freeze! 

Marty stopped, standing right before the stool where Shemp had once 
been. He raised his hands, showing he didn't have anything on him. The 
recorder and microphone was now in his jacket pocket. He couldn't 
remember putting it there with all the excitement.

Marty's eyes darted over to the Professor. As he watched, the 
Professor's grip suddenly relaxed and the rope swung loosely in the 
air. Marty suddenly realized he was right in the line of the focusing 
lense. A bright white light shot out from it and hit him square in the 
chest. Marty looked down at it for a moment, a little curiously, then 
looked up at the people in the room. Reese and Foley stared at him, 
startled looks on there faces. Suddenly the whole room turned bright, 
blinding white, like a million cameras flashing at once. Then, less 
then a second later, everything was plunged into a deep, black silence.

INT. DARK STOREROOM

Professor? Marty asked, straining his eyes in the darkness, trying to 
see something, anything. But everything was completely and utterly 
black.

MARTY
Hello? (listening hard for any sound)

After a moment, Marty reached into his pocket and pulled out a 
matchbook. He ripped a match free and struck it against the sandpaper. 
Marty held it up as it lit, looking around the room. It looked like he 
was in some kind of storeroom. Marty took a step forward, almost 
running into an old broken chair. He dodged it last minute and strolled 
slowly around the room, trying to figure out where the hell he was. 
Dusty furniture and crates littered the room.
The match was starting to burn Marty's fingers and he dropped it, 
fumbling to light another. He walked towards the door, having the 
nagging feeling that something was strangely out of place. Where the 
hell am I? he wondered. Marty reached for the doorknob and tried 
turning it. Locked.

MARTY
Damn!

He looked around for a way out. Marty spotted a window and went over to 
it, holding his breath as he tried to slide it open. It slid and he 
carefully climbed outside on to a fire escape. He scrambled down the 
unstable structure and dropped to the alley below.

EXT. STREET

Just as his feet scraped the pavement, Marty noticed a pair of 
headlights approaching him, fast. He stood there for a minute, frozen 
in the beams, then jumped back and pressed himself against the wall of 
the building. The truck sped by, missing him by inches!

Marty let out a loud sigh of relief as he watched the truck drive off, 
then noticed the sign on the door that he was right next to. Wilson's 
Cafe, Rear Entrance, it said. Marty tried the door, expecting it to be 
locked. But the knob turned freely in his hand. Strange. For as long as 
he could remember the back door had been locked.
Marty stepped inside.

MARTY
Hey, since when are you open at... 

He started to say, then stopped when he got a good look around. It 
couldn't be Wilson's Cafe!
Everything in the room looked brand new...but at the same time, old. 
Dick wasn't behind the counter a woman of maybe thirty was. Marty 
looked up at the menu and gasped.

MARTY
Since when were roast beef sandwiches 30 cents, and an ice cream sunday 
15 cents? 

He tore his eyes off the prices long enough to notice the people. Boy, 
did he notice them! All the men were in double-breasted suits, with 
hats. And not baseball caps, either! Marty noticed all the women were 
in skirts -- long skirts. Not one was in any type of pants, like jeans. 
And the way people had their hair done.... Those styles went out  ages 
ago!

A chubby five-year-old boy, dressed in pajamas, was playing on the 
floor with some trucks. Marty almost tripped over him as he walked 
slowly around, his mouth open with amazement, gazing at everything. 
After a moment he realized the woman behind the counter was staring at 
him, a suspicious look on her face. You want something, kid? she asked, 
leaning forward across the counter.

Marty hesitated for a moment, then sat down. He decided he needed to 
blend in as much as he could. The silver Porsche jacket alone that he 
had on was causing way too many stares. 

MARTY
Uh, yeah... Gimme a Tab.

WAITRESS
What? (frowning)

MARTY
A Tab.

The waitress rolled her eyes.

WAITRESS
Kid, I can't give you the tab until you order something.

Marty tried to ignore the stares everyone was giving him and looked 
down at the counter. He saw the man beside him had a cup of coffee.

MARTY
Uh, coffee.

She reached over and poured him a cup.

WAITRESS
Did something happen to you, kid? I mean, you been lost in the woods or 
something?

Marty looked at her blankly.

MARTY
Huh? (noticing a bowl of sugar cubes on the counter) Say, have you got 
any Sweet 'N Low?

The waitress stared at him.

WAITRESS
Sweet and what? (suddenly lifting the coffee away from him) Maybe you'd 
better pay for this first.

MARTY
Sure,.

Marty said with a shrug. He reached for his wallet and took out a 
twenty dollar bill, holding it out to the waitress. Her eyes bugged out 
and her mouth dropped open.

WAITRESS
A twenty? What do you think this is, a bank? I can't break a twenty! 
(eyes narrowing suspiciously) Say, what's a kid your age doing with all 
this money?

Marty quickly stuffed the bill back in his wallet. Now everyone in the 
cafe was staring at him. 

MARTY
Look, maybe I'd better talk to Dick. Is he around?

WAITRESS
Dick? Dick who?

MARTY
Now who's being stupid? The guy who runs this place.

WAITRESS
I run this place! (eyes once again narrow)

MARTY
What happened to Dick Wilson?

WAITRESS
Dick Wilson? Dickie Wilson? Dickie Wilson runs this place? That's a 
laugh!

Marty felt his face redden as everyone in the room started to laugh 
with the waitress.

MARTY
What are you trying to do? Freak me out, or something?

MAN WITH COFFEE
Freak?

The man beside him with the coffee asked. 

MAN WITH COFFEE
Are you from some circus? Is that what all that writing on your clothes 
means?

MARTY
Haven't you ever heard of designer labels? (glaring at him)

He heard soft footsteps from behind the counter and saw the little 
five-year-old run up to the woman.

DICKIE
Mommy, I'm hungry, he whined.

The waitress smiled.

WAITRESS
Just take a candy bar, then go to bed, Dickie.

Marty did a double take. 

MARTY
Dickie? That's Dick Wilson?

The waitress nodded.

WAITRESS
That's Dick Wilson.

Marty watched the kid grab a Babe Ruth off the candy counter and 
scamper off. He was about to turn away from the sight when he noticed a 
calendar behind the cash register. A calendar that had the number 1952 
in big black letters.

MARTY
1952? (voice rising) This is 1952?! Holy shit! You know what this 
means? I've gone back in time thirty years! Thirty Goddamn years! I 
haven't even been born yet!

The waitress took one look at him and reached for a phone. 

WAITRESS
I'm calling the cops.

Marty jumped off the stool and ran out the front door, stopping dead in 
the middle of the street. Everything had changed!

EXT. MONROE AVENUE

Monroe Avenue, once full of old, rotting buildings, was now a bustling, 
thriving business district! Cars from the '40's and '50's ran up and 
down the streets. People were everywhere, walking along the streets, 
stopping in the shops. Marty was so shocked to see what he was seeing 
he didn't notice the strange, suspicious looks the towspeople were 
flashing at him, or the drivers honking at him as they swerved to avoid 
hitting him.

He turned and noticed the Orpheum Theater. It, too, had changed! Boy, 
had it! The marquee was lit up with the words: John Wayne, Maureen 
O'Hara -- The Quiet Man. In Full Color! People streamed into it and 
from the looks of the place, it was a first class movie theater.

MARTY
Dammit! 

He noticed a man walking by with a newspaper in hand. Marty ran over to 
him and snatched the paper away, ignoring the owner's protest as he 
scanned the front page for the date. March 11, 1952.

MARTY
1952! God dammit!

Marty threw the paper down on the sidewalk and ran down the street. He 
stopped beside an old car and checked out the license plate. Besides 
the fact it looked nothing like the plates he was used to, it also said 
--

MARTY
1952! Dammit!

Marty ran off again, noticing a phone booth. It was empty, so he 
stopped.

INT. PHONE BOOTH

Marty went inside and grabbed the phone book. He frantically riffled 
through the pages, to the listings of Browns. After a minute, he 
located it and ran his finger down the column to: Brown, Emmett L., 788 
W. Spruce. Madison 3489. Marty pulled the Bic pen out from his pocket 
and circled the line. Then he reached into his pocket again and pulled 
out all the change he had. One nickel and three pennies.

MARTY
Dammit!

Marty picked up the receiver anyway and dialed zero.

OPERATOR
Operator...

MARTY
Operator! Listen, this is an emergency! I have to make this call, but I 
don't have a dime -- all I got is a nickel -- but you gotta connect me 
--

OPERATOR
Sir, it only costs a nickel.

MARTY
What? 

OPERATOR
Local calls cost five cents. What number do you want?

Marty looked up and saw the words, Local Calls 5 Cents written in plain 
sight on the telephone. 

MARTY
Oh -- right! Uh, Madison 3489.

OPERATOR
Five cents, please.

Marty placed the nickel inside the coin slot and listened as the number 
ran several times.

OPERATOR
I'm sorry, there's no answer.

MARTY
Operator, what's today's date?

OPERATOR
March 11th.

MARTY
What year?

OPERATOR
Nineteen fifty --

Marty shook his head.

MARTY
Dammit! 

He slammed the receiver down and ripped the page out of the phone book, 
stuffing it in his pocket. Then he got out of the phone booth and ran 
down the street.

EXT. McFLY/BAINES HOUSE

Marty didn't know how long he had been running before he found himself 
on a residential street. It looked vaguely familiar, but he was too 
exhausted by the recent events to figure out why. He leaned against a 
mailbox, trying to catch his breath, when he happened to look down at 
the numbers on it. 777. Marty spun around and stared at the house.

MARTY
My house!

It looked like his house. It was! But there were some weird things, 
like the trees not being as tall, different curtains, and a old Chevy 
in the driveway. Marty watched as the front door opened and a woman 
pushed the screen door open to let out a dog. Marty gasped. The woman 
was his mother!

MARTY
Mom!

Marty raced to the front door. She didn't notice him and shut the door. 
Marty ran up the steps and pounded on the front door.

MARTY
Mom! Open up! It's me!

After a few seconds the door opened and his mom stood in the doorway. 
She stared at Marty without a shred of recognition.

MARTY
Mom, thank God! Thank God you're here!

His mother stared at him blankly.

MOM
I bed your pardon, young man?

MARTY
Mom! It's me! Marty! Don't you know your own son!

Mom started to close the door, her expression uneasy. 

MOM
I think you have the wrong house.

Marty shook his head frantically. 

MARTY
No -- no -- it's not! (panting) It's not!

 A man smoking a pipe approached Marty's mother from behind. 

MR. BAINES
Who's there, Stella?

MARTY
Stella!? No! Don't tell me you're Stella! Tell me you're Eileen! Please 
tell me you're Eileen!

In the background, Marty saw a teenage girl come down the staircase. 
She heard the last part of the conversation and went over to the door, 
pushing her way past the woman. 

EILEEN
I'm Eileen.

He stared into her hazel eyes.

MARTY
How old are you?

EILEEN
(smiles) Seventeen.

Marty stared at her for a moment more, breathing hard, before his eyes 
rolled back in his head and he slumped to the ground in a dead faint!

INT. BAINES HOUSE

Marty smelled something funny. He made a face and turned his head, but 
the smell followed him. He slowly opened his eyes and looked up into 
the face of someone he knew. It looked a lot like him, only he didn't 
look as old. Then Marty remembered -- he was in 1952!

MARTY
Professor? Professor Brown?  

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
(whispers covertly) You know me?

The Professor removed the smelling salts from under Marty's nose now 
that he was awake. It was only then Marty realized he was stretched out 
on a couch in a living room that looked an awful lot like his own.

MARTY
Professor, you time machine works! It works! It sent me back in time! 
I'm from 1982!

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Ssshhhhh! 

Professor Brown said, holding up his hand. His expression was both 
thoughtful and suspicious. Marty heard footsteps and turned his head to 
see his grandfather, grandmother, and mother, all looking thirty years 
younger, edging closer to the couch to get a look at him.

MR. BAINES
Is he all right?

The Professor straightened up.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
He will be. Simple inebriation, is all. The young man must have a 
rather low tolerance for alcohol... something that runs in the family. 
You see, he's a second cousin of mine on my mother's side. Came quite a 
distance to visit me, he added. His name's Lewis.

MARTY
Marty.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Uh, Marty Lewis! I almost didn't recognize him -- haven't seen him in 
years.

Eileen stared at Marty and he looked back at her, fascinated that this 
young teenager was -- would be -- his mother! She looked so 
different... attractive, even!

STELLA
It's a good thing he had your name circled in the phone book. I would 
have called the police.

Professor Brown leaned over and helped Marty sit up.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Well, Mrs. Baines, Mr. Baines, thank you for your trouble. Both Marty 
and I apologize for the inconvenience. We'll get him home and as good 
as new.

Mr. Baines looked sharply at Marty and shook his finger at him.

MR. BAINES
Son, you watch yourself!

MARTY
Yes, sir.

EILEEN
Oh!

Eileen began, going over to a chair a few feet away and picking up the 
silver jacket of Marty's. 

EILEEN
Here's your jacket!

MARTY
Uh, thanks...

Eileen held up the jacket and gave it a quizzical look.

EILEEN
What kind of material is this? I've never seen anything like it.

He took it from her hand.

MARTY
It's polyester.

EILEEN
Poly-what?

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
It's an experimental invention of mine. Sort of a rubberized silver-
foil. I just made up a name for it. Come on, Marty. We've got a lot to 
talk about.

Marty followed the Professor. He was just about to step out the door 
when Eileen stopped him. 

EILEEN
Marty?

He turned.

MARTY
Huh?

EILEEN
Have we ever met before? 

She asked with a puzzled look on her face. Marty's eyes met hers, but 
before he could open his mouth, the Professor grabbed his arm and 
pulled him out the door.

INT. CAR

Fifteen minutes later, the Professor's 1937 Packard was pulling into 
the driveway of a huge Victorian mansion on the outskirts of town.

MARTY
...and the flux capacitor is hooked into this thing that looks like a 
condenser with a lense on it... 

Marty was saying as Professor Brown stopped the car. He looked at the 
house for the first time and let out a low whistle as they both got out 
of the car. Even in the dark, Marty was able to see how fancy it was.

EXT. BROWN MANSION

MARTY
Jeez -- this is where you used to live, huh? You must have been rich!

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Must have been? Used to live? I do live here.

MARTY
Oh, yeah.

They started to walk up the drive to the front door.

MARTY
Well, there's a mall here now -- I mean, there will be.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
A mall?

MARTY
Yeah, a shopping mall. You know, a shopping mall?

Professor Brown held his hands up and shook his head. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Ssshhhhh -- don't tell me these things, Marty. I don't want to know 
about the future.

INT. BROWN MANSION

He opened the front door and stepped inside the living room. Marty 
looked around as the Professor switched on the lights. Professor Brown 
held his hands up and shook his head. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Do you see it here?

The living room was filled with antique furniture, pieces of different 
mechanical devices lying everywhere. It was easy to see that the 
Professor's love of inventing was just beginning, since everything was 
still relatively neat. But there was no sign of the time machine. Marty 
shook his head.

MARTY
No.

Professor Brown walked across the room and into another one. This one 
appeared to be a study. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with old 
volumes. On the desk in the center of the room, Marty recognized little 
models of that one robot and flying car he had seen plans of in the 
future. The Professor watched Marty as he glanced about the room, but 
he had to shake his head again. No time machine.

The Professor crossed the room, over to a door at the far end of the 
study. He pulled out a key and unlocked it, pushing it open. He 
switched a light on inside and gestured for Marty to come over. Marty 
only had to glance at the room for a second before recognizing the time 
machine. It looked a little less run down, cleaner and shinier, but it 
was the time machine nonetheless. This is it!

Professor Brown placed the key back in his pocket and looked hard at 
Marty.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
You've convinced me that you must be who you say you are. No living 
human has ever seen this machine. (frowns) But why? Why even in my 
twilight years would I remotely consider sending someone back in time?

MARTY
You didn't, Professor. It was an accident! You see, what happened --

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
No! Don't tell me!  I don't want to know the future! My knowledge of 
future events... your mere presence here... could have devastating 
effects on the course of history. And altering history is a 
responsibility that I do not wish to bear. My immediate response is to 
send you back to your own time.

Marty had heard the Professor say almost those exact same words when he 
had wanted to send Shemp back in time with the sports scores. It seemed 
like a million years ago even though, technically, it was thirty years 
in the future. But this time he agreed with the Professor. He wanted to 
go home. 

MARTY
I can dig that.

Professor Brown gave him a strange, puzzled look. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Pardon me?

MARTY
Oh. That expression probably hasn't been invented yet... I can get 
behind -- I agree with you.

The phone rang in the study. The Professor left the room with the time 
machine to answer it. Marty followed him and checked out the models on 
the desk while the Professor picked up the phone on the third ring. He 
didn't mean to listen on the conversation, but it was kind of hard not 
to.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Hello? (pause) Yes Charles, yes, I looked over the offer. (pause) It's 
very generous that they want to make me a major stockholder. But I'm 
just not interested in a position with this little X-rox corporation... 
If it's pronounced 'Zerox', why don't they spell it with a Z?... Look, 
I'm on the verge of a breakthrough on my power converter.

Marty dropped the little car he had been looking at when the Professor 
said that. The power converter! How could he have forgotten! It needed 
nuclear power and he didn't think there was any now, at least none that 
they could get there hands on. Did that mean he was... stuck here?
Professor Brown continued to talk on the phone, not noticing the sick 
expression on Marty's face. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
...Well, any day now. And then I'll need people to work for Emmett 
Brown Industries! I've got a lot of ideas that are going to create a 
lot of jobs. Very well, good night, Charles.

The Professor shook his head as he hung up the phone. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
The X-rox Corporation. How are they going to sell a product if you 
can't even pronounce the name?

He turned back to Marty.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Now... the time machine works, that's obvious. As I've always known, 
it's a question of power. Where did I -- will I get enough power to 
send a man thirty years through time?

Marty opened his mouth to tell him, but Professor Brown quickly held up 
his hands.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
No -- wait -- don't tell me!

He didn't say anything for a long moment, then shook his head.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
On second thought, there may be some things you'll have to tell me.

MARTY
The power converter...

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Of course! The power converter! It works! Of course, it works... 
(looking to Marty) What chemicals do we use?

Marty hesitated, slowly taking a deep breath before starting. 

MARTY
Well, Professor, are you sure you want me to tell you? You know, 
changing the course of history and all....

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Blast it -- no, I suppose you're right.... You do know the proper 
chemical formula?

Marty nodded.

MARTY
Sure, and there won't be any problem getting some -- Getting it...

He stopped. He had almost blurted it out. 

The Professor walked over to a bar and pulled a glass bottle of brandy 
out of the cabinet. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Coke? 

He started to pour the alcohol in a glass.

MARTY
(stunned) How did you know?

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Just a guess. I figured kids would still be drinking Coke in 1982.

Marty let out all the breath he had been holding. So he didn't know 
that was the secret formula after all.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
All right, then it's very simple, (tossing Marty a bottle of Coke as he 
spoke) Tomorrow, weather permitting, you'll get the chemicals, and 
we'll wire the power converter to the time machine, point it at the 
sun, and send you home.

Marty hesitated again. He had a feeling that what he was about to say 
would not really please the 

MARTY
Professor. Well, not exactly, Professor. You see, we don't point it at 
the sun.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
We don't.... 

The Professor lifted up his drink to his lips.

MARTY
No...

Marty took a deep breath. He had gone this far. He might as well go all 
the way.

MARTY
We need a nuclear reactor.

Professor Brown choked on his drink.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
A nuclear reactor! How much energy do we need?

Marty shrugged -- then remembered the Micro-Cassette Recorder! He still 
had it with him, in his pocket. He took it out and rewound it, then hit 
play and set it on the Professor's desk. Professor Brown looked at it 
strangely, but didn't ask any questions. He sat down at his desk and 
the two of them listened as it played back. After a couple minutes, it 
got to the important part.

MARTY (on tape)
Release the rope! It's 4200 rads!

The tape grew silent. It had reached the end. Professor Brown reached 
out and picked up the recorder, staring at the buttons for a minute 
before pressing the one to stop it. He didn't say anything for a 
moment, then: 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
4200 rads? Good God!

Marty was trying to twist the top of the Coke bottle, but for some 
reason it wouldn't turn. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
There's something I still don't understand. 

The Professor picked the recorder up again and rewound it.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Fascinating device, he commented as it spun back.

Professor Brown stopped it and played back the gunshot sounds.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
These loud bangs... could those be some sort of malfunction in the time 
machine? Do you know what they are?

Marty gripped the Coke bottle so hard his knuckles turned white. He 
couldn't tell Professor Brown that those sounds were him being shot!

MARTY
I wouldn't worry about 'em, Professor.

A minute passed while the tape replayed. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
4200 rads...  That certainly can't be generated under controlled 
conditions in this day and age.

MARTY
That's just great!

Marty still tried to get that Coke bottle open. It was like the cap was 
welded on there!

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
However...there's a lot I don't know about nuclear physics. So first 
think in the morning, I'll go to the University and see what I can find 
out. I want you  to stay in the house, (pointing a finger at Marty) 
It's very important that you don't interfere in any way with the 
outside world. I've got plenty of food, there's the radio, books, 
magazines... I've even got one of those new television sets. There's 
plenty to do.

Professor Brown stared at Marty as he twisted and turned that cap in 
every imaginable way possible.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
What are you doing?

Marty gave up and held the bottle out.

MARTY
How do you open these?

The Professor took the bottle from his hand and picked up a bottle 
opener lying nearby. A second later he handed it back, now without the 
top. Marty looked down at the Coke in his hand, then up at the 
Professor.

MARTY
It doesn't look good, does it, Professor?

Professor Brown shook his head.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
At the moment, it looks like you're stuck here.

INT. BROWN MANSION - NEXT MORNING

Early the next morning, Professor Brown walked down the hall to the 
room he had given Marty McFly late the night before. He stopped and 
listened carefully, hearing no sound from the other side. After a 
minute he reached for the doorknob and turned it. The Professor pushed 
the door open a couple of inches, sticking his head around the side of 
the door to peer inside.

The shades were wide open, the first rays of sunlight slanting across 
the room over to the bed. Marty was lying on top of the queen bed on 
his back, one arm hanging over the side of the bed, still fully dressed 
in his 1982 clothes. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be asleep. 
The Professor studied him for a moment, then slowly stepped inside the 
room and crept across to the table next to the bed, where the Cathedral 
Radio rested and the small cassette recorder. He had come in to get a 
closer look at the future object.

Professor Brown carefully picked the recorder up and examined it. His 
finger accidentally hit the play button and a loud burst of 
conversation came out. The Professor swore under his breath as he 
fumbled for the stop button. His eyes flew to Marty as he quickly set 
the recorder on the table again. Marty let out a deep sigh, eyes still 
closed, and rolled over.

Professor Brown waited a moment, to make sure Marty wasn't going to 
awaken. He listened to his slow, deep breathing for a second, then 
quickly crossed the room to the door. The Professor eased it shut and 
continued down the hall. He had to get to the University and look up 
the information about nuclear physics. Hopefully, there would be a 
answer to send Marty back to the future.

Marty felt warm sunlight on his face. He threw an arm across his still-
closed eyes to block it out, along with the memories. Pieces of the 
night before came back to him, being in 1952. Maybe, Marty thought,  it 
was just a dream. All I have to do is open my eyes and I will see that 
it was all part of some bizarre dream....

He sighed as his eyes focused on his surroundings. It wasn't a dream. 
He was lying on the bed in the room that Professor Brown had given him 
the night before. He was still in 1952.

Marty reached over and clicked on the old radio by the bed, mostly out 
of habit. He waited a few seconds, expecting to hear some old song, but 
nothing came on. He hit it a few times, wondering if it was broken. 
Only a minute later did sound slowly come on, and it was horrible! 
Marty made a face as he rolled over and twisted the tuning dial, 
skimming the different stations for something better.  Nothing that 
even remotely resembled any type of rock 'n roll came on. Marty flipped 
the radio off, shaking his head in disgust.

He got off the bed and left his room, wandering downstairs to the 
kitchen. He opened a cabinet and found a coffee pot. As he was taking 
it out of the cabinet, it slipped from his hands and crashed onto the 
hardwood floor, separating into different pieces. Marty swore and knelt 
down, trying to get it back together. After a minute, he gave up and 
set it aside.

Marty turned to the refrigerator and pulled it open. He fished out a 
bottle of milk and took off the little piece of foil at the top. Taking 
a glass off the counter, he set it on the kitchen table and lifted up 
the bottle to pour some milk in the glass. Nothing came out. Marty held 
it up and looked down the neck, noticing a cardboard plug keeping the 
milk in. He stuck a couple fingers down there, trying to pull it out - 
but he couldn't get ahold of it! With a sigh of annoyance, Marty 
finally just pushed his fingers through the cardboard and poured the 
milk in the glass.

After pulling the bottle back in the refrigerator, Marty sat down at 
the kitchen table to drink his milk. He noticed some magazines and 
newspapers spread out and lifted a couple of them up for a closer look. 
The issue of Time had a cover story titled, The Republicans: Who Will 
Win in '52? Photos of the men involved were splashed on the cover. 
Marty stared at it for a moment.

MARTY
Eisenhower...

He picked up a  Newsweek. Will We Have War With Russia This Year? the 
cover asked in big bold letters.

MARTY
No...

He took a look at the local newspaper. Crime Rate Continues to Rise! 
the headline screamed. Marty shook his head and noticed a Saturday 
Evening Post lying nearby. A picture of some high school students were 
on the cover with the words, What's Wrong With the Younger Generation? 
He laughed and flipped the magazine over. An ad for Van Heusen Shirts 
had Ronald Regan in it.
Jesus, Marty muttered when he saw it, shaking his head again. The 
doorbell rang. Marty looked up from the periodicals, uneasy. He stayed 
seated, remembering the Professor's instructions from the night before. 
The bell rang again and Marty got up from the table and walked slowly 
through the dining room and living room to the front door. He stopped a 
few feet away from it, staring hard at the wood and feeling torn.

The doorbell rang for a third time. What if it was someone in trouble? 
What if someone was hurt and needed to use the phone? Would it be such 
a bad thing, then, if he answered the door?
Aw, what the hell, he thought. Marty stepped forward and opened the 
door.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Aha!

Professor Brown exclaimed, shoving a finger at Marty's chest from the 
porch.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
You answered the door!

MARTY
You were ringing the doorbell! 

Marty took a step back as the Professor walked inside.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
I told you not to interfere with any of the events of this time! 
Nobody's supposed to see you here! What if I was a mailman? Or a 
salesman?

MARTY
What if you lost your keys?

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Then I would have figured out to get back in through the events in the 
natural course of history! Don't you understand? The fabric of history 
is very delicate. Anything you do could have serious consequences!

MARTY
 Hey, look, gimme a break! All I did was answer the door! How's that 
gonna change history?

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
I don't know, but I don't want to take any chances! Now you stay here 
and don't do anything. Don't answer the door, don't answer the phone, 
don't go outside. Understand?

Marty rolled his eyes, having it up to here with the lecturing!

MARTY
Hey, get off my case, would you? I didn't want to come here, and the 
only reason I'm here in the first place is because I was a nice guy, 
helping you out. So don't tell me I gotta stay cooped up in here and 
vege out, because none of this is my fault!

Professor Brown appeared unaffected by the speech. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Let me put it on a level you can understand. You don't belong here. You 
don't know anything about this world. You don't know the customs, you 
don't know how to talk, how to act -- you don't even look like you 
belong here. And if you walked out on the street, you wouldn't get 100 
yards without being arrested. Then there would be questions, and where 
would we come up with the answers?

MARTY
(sighs) Okay, Professor, I get where you're coming from. The way I 
look, the way I'm dressed... (looking down at his silver Porsche 
jacket) I'd stick out like a sore thumb.

Professor Brown nodded, looking relieved.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
I'm glad we finally got that straightened out. I'll see you tonight.

He left the house, slamming the door behind him. Marty stared at the 
door for a moment with his eyes narrowed, then he returned to the 
kitchen.

INT. BROWN MANSION - LATER

Half an hour later, Marty was ready. He'd finished his breakfast and 
then had a shower, changing into some of the Professor's clothes 
instead of his own from 1982. He had slicked his hair back like he had 
seen the men doing so in some of those magazines and was now ready to 
explore the town. After all, Professor Brown had said the reason he 
couldn't go out was because of the way he looked, more or less. And now 
that he looked like a resident of 1952, Marty saw no problem in leaving 
the house.

EXT. BROWN MANSION

He opened a window at the front of the house and climbed outside, then 
ran off in the direction of town.

EXT. STREET

Less then twenty minutes later, Marty was strolling down the sidewalk 
with the other townspeople, trying to look nonchalant, like he had 
always lived there. He thought he was doing a pretty good job of it, 
too, since no one was looking at him twice.

A cop that had been walking on the other side of the street glanced at 
Marty and stopped, pointing a finger at him. Hey, you! he shouted. 
Where do you think you're going?

Marty's eyes widened and fought the urge to run. How did he know? he 
wondered in horror. The cop walked right for him, then, just as Marty 
was ready to accept defeat, he passed him and grabbed the arm of a 
tramp several yards behind Marty. He relaxed, letting out a sigh of 
relief, and continued to walk down the street. After a minute he 
started to get excited again as he looked around at the shops and 
businesses up and down the main street.

There was an appliance store that advertised Giant 8 Inch Televisions! 
with A screen as big as life itself! Across from it was an old gas 
station with the price advertised at 18.9 cents a gallon. A travel 
agency had a poster on how to get from L.A. to New York in a mere 12 
hours! in it's window.

There was a dance studio with a sign, Everybody's doing the Mambo! on 
the outside. Through the window, Marty could see a class in session. A 
clothing store with a display of the latest fashions was beside the 
studio. They looked a lot more like the kind of stuff in old movies. A 
Studebaker showroom had a sign that said it was, the most modern car 
ever developed in the entire history of man. Marty chuckled, then 
stopped when he saw the next store.

It was a music store. In the display window were posters showing 
America's top recording artists. Marty frowned as he studied them. 
Frank Sinatra, Guy Combardo, Dinah Shore, Perry Como. 

MARTY
Are they kidding?

He decided to go inside and find out.

INT. MUSIC STORE

On the counter was the current number one single, Papa Loves Mambo by 
Perry Como. Marty made a face as he examined it. He suddenly noticed 
the clerk was standing beside him.

CLERK
Can I help you, sir?

Marty held up the single. He had to ask.

MARTY
This... is the number one single?

CLERK
Yes, sir!

MARTY
I don't get it. How come there's no rock 'n roll?

CLERK
(frowning) I beg your pardon?

MARTY
This is 1952....?

CLERK
Uh, yes, sir...

MARTY
And you never heard of rock 'n roll?

CLERK
 No....

Marty grinned as he set the single back on the counter, suddenly having 
a great idea.

MARTY
Well, maybe it's time you did.

EXT. STREET

He quickly left the store and headed for a pawnshop he had noticed on 
the outskirts of town. There was a guitar in the window, for five 
dollars. After studying it for a moment, Marty went inside and told the 
Pawnbroker what he wanted. The man took the guitar down and brought it 
to the cash register and Marty trailed after him.

That'll be five bucks, he said, setting the guitar on the counter. 
Marty reached for his wallet and pulled out the same twenty dollar bill 
he had tried using at the cafe the night before. The Pawnbroker started 
to ring the purchase up, then took a closer look at the money.

PAWNBROKER
Hey, what kinda funny money is this?

MARTY
Huh?

The Pawnbroker held the money out and pointed to something.

MARTY
It says '1977' on it. What do you take me for, an idiot?

He handed the bill back to Marty. Marty looked at it and only then 
realized his mistake. He had used money that hadn't even been printed 
yet!

MARTY
Oh -- yeah.

His mind was racing for a explanation to give the guy that didn't sound 
too illegal. It wouldn't do for him to get arrested as a counterfeiter. 

MARTY
I can't believe I did that. That's a joke. My friend had these printed 
up -- see that's his name there... Blumenthal.

The Pawnbroker continued to watch him suspiciously. It didn't look like 
he was buying it. Marty dug around in his wallet, but of course he 
didn't have any thirty-year-old bills with him.

MARTY
Gee - I don't seem to have anything on me.

He put his wallet away and as he did so, the watch Professor Brown was 
lending him caught his eye. 

MARTY
Hey, how about this watch? (holding up his left wrist) It's a genuine 
antique!

He slipped the watch off and handed it to the Pawnbroker. He carefully 
examined it. 

PAWNBROKER
Antique? They just came out with this watch last month. But this one 
looks like it's been through a war.

MARTY
Yeah, I've been doing a lotta travelling.

PAWNBROKER
Okay kid. You got a deal. The watch for the guitar.

Inside the office of the Midwest Talent Agency, Marty was concentrating 
hard on performing Blue Suede Shoes the way Elvis had -- or would. 
Dancing around, singing, playing the instrument -- he was really into 
it, hardly noticing the forty five-year-old agent that sat behind the 
desk and smoking a cigar, his face expressionless as he listened to the 
music. Covering the walls of the small office were black and white 
pictures of some clients that the agency sponsored.
Marty finished the song and looked at the agent with a smile, waiting 
for the praise that was sure to follow. Who couldn't love music like 
that? The agent, however, must have been one of those people.

TALENT AGENT
Well kid, (setting his cigar down in an ash tray) it's interesting, 
I'll say that. But it's not commercial.

MARTY
Not commercial? Mister, don't you know what you're listening to? This 
is rock 'n roll!

The agent shook his head as he heaved his body out of the chair.

TALENT AGENT
Call it what you want to kid, but don't call it music, 'cause it sure 
ain't that!

MARTY
But you don't understand --

TALENT AGENT
No buts, kid. I've been in this business my whole life and I know what 
people want. The smooth sound, that's what sells. Como, Crosby, Dinah 
Shore. Gimme a melody and a nice slow tempo. Now beat it!

He opened the door and shoved Marty into the waiting room. Marty stood 
where he was, trying to figure out what had happened. A few seconds 
later the agent tossed his guitar case out of the room and slammed the 
door. He hardly noticed the black man in a silk shirt approaching him.

REGINALD WASHINGTON
That sound I just heard coming through the door, that was like nothing 
I ever heard before! I mean, you got something there, young man!

MARTY
At least one person had recognized rock'n roll for what it was! Who are 
you?

REGINALD WASHINGTON
Reginald Washington is my name. I manage some of the local bands around 
town and I think you've got something we can promote all the way to the 
top! Now, I've got a real important cat comin' in from a New York 
record company on Monday the 18th, and I want you to play that music 
for him. I think the time has come for a sound like that.

Marty grinned at his words. Reginald took a business card from his 
pocket and jotted down the date, time, and place on it with a pencil.

REGINALD WASHINGTON
That's March 18th, Noon. Be at my office. What's your name?

MARTY
Marty Mc - Marty Lewis.

REGINALD WASHINGTON
Marty Lewis. See you on the 18th.

He handed him the card and shook his hand. Marty looked at the card, 
not believing his luck. 

MARTY
This is great! Right on, brother!

Reginald gave him a strange look.

REGINALD WASHINGTON
I think you're a little mixed up. There is absolutely no way that I 
could be your brother.

He turned and walked away. Marty glanced at the card again and smiled.

INT. BROWN MANSION

That evening, Marty stood before the mirror in the bedroom Professor 
Brown was letting him use. He had changed back into his 1982 clothes 
and was practicing the guitar, making sure he looked good. He had been 
doing it for close to fifteen minutes when he heard the front door open 
and slam shut.

Stopping in mid-note, Marty hastily placed the guitar in a corner of 
the room. He ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it up and adding 
to the illusion that he had spent the whole day lying around the house. 
On his way out the door, he grabbed the business card off the bed that 
Reginald had given him earlier that day and stuffed it in his Porsche 
jacket, draped over a chair.

Marty ran down the stairs and saw Professor Brown pouring himself a 
drink. He looked up as Marty came in the room, a scowl on his face. For 
a split second, Marty worried that he might have found out about his 
trip into town.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Well, I found an energy source that can generate the 4200 rads that we 
need....

Marty looked at him expectantly, waiting for the answer.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
An atomic bomb.

MARTY
Professor, be serious, would you?

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
I am serious. If we could get you, the time machine, and the power 
converter in the vicinity of an atomic blast, we could send you back to 
the future.

MARTY
You're talking crazy! An atomic blast would melt me and the time 
machine in a matter of seconds!

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
You forget -- time travel is instantaneous. The time machine would 
melt, but you would have already travelled through time. Of course, 
it's a moot point regardless. The only place atomic bombs are detonated 
is at the Army's Nevada Test Site, and those tests are kept absolutely 
top secret.

Marty suddenly recalled sitting in class on the day he had left, the 
lecture Mr. Arky had given him. He remembered ripping a particular page 
out of the textbook for Suzy, and pocketing it in his jacket. He 
whirled around and pounded up the stairs to his room.

Marty grabbed the jacket and checked the first pocket. Yeah, there was 
the textbook page. He quickly unfolded it, the business card from 
Reginald falling out as he did so. Marty's eyes flew to the caption of 
the picture: Last above ground atomic test, 15 megatons, March 18, 
1952, Atkins, Nevada.

The date seemed familiar.... Marty picked the business card off the 
floor and checked the date on it beside the page. They were the same.

Marty looked between the two objects in his hands for a long moment, 
trying to figure out what to do. Maybe get home -- or get nuked -- or 
stay in the fifties and maybe become famous -- and alive at least. He 
crumpled up the page and tossed it in the garbage just before Professor 
Brown entered the room.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Marty, what's wrong?

He slipped the card back in the jacket and shrugged, trying to seem 
nonchalant.

MARTY
Oh -- nothin'. I thought I left the water running.

The Professor's eyes zeroed in on the guitar in the corner of the room. 
He stepped over for a closer look before Marty could stop him.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Say, where did this guitar come from?

MARTY
Oh -- that -- I found it in the closet.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
 I don't recall ever seeing it before.

MARTY
Well, it was there.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Curious... Very curious....

INT. BROWN MANSION - MORNING

Late the next morning, Marty stirred and opened his eyes. It was 
another bright, sunny day outside. He smiled slowly, thinking of his 
audition a few days away, and crawled out of bed. The house was quiet, 
with the Professor at work.

Marty went downstairs and into the kitchen. Professor Brown had left 
the coffee pot on and he cheerfully poured himself a cup, then opened 
the refrigerator and pulled out the new bottle of milk. He got the 
stopper out in a matter of seconds, without breaking it, too. As Marty 
added the milk to the black coffee, he started to sing.

MARTY
So you wanna be a rock 'n roll star... 

The doorbell rang before he could get any further with the song. Marty 
rolled his eyes and set the milk down. He was going to have to go 
through this again? Marty left the kitchen and headed for the front 
door. He shook his head as he reached for the knob.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Look, Professor! I'm not -- oh!

The words died in his throat. Marty stared at Eileen, standing on the 
doorstep, hugging books to her chest. She smiled at him and Marty 
smiled back, weakly.

EILEEN
Hi, Marty.

MARTY
Uh, hi....

Eileen, his mother jumped in. Marty gave another weak smile. It was 
hard for him to say her name.

MARTY
Right. Eileen.

The smile faded from Eileen's face. 

EILEEN
You remember me...? 

MARTY
(mumbles) How could I forget? (to Eileen) Oh, sure, I remember you.

EILEEN
Well, I was on my way to school, and I just wanted to stop by and see 
if you were feeling okay.  You seemed like you were in pretty bad shape 
the other night.

MARTY
Oh, I'm feeling much better now.

The smile returned to Eileen's face.

EILEEN
How long are you planning on staying?

Marty shrugged. 

MARTY
Actually, it looks like I'm gonna be stuck here for awhile.

Eileen's smile grew wider. 

EILEEN
Then you'll be going to school here....?

MARTY
School? I never thought of school! If I went to school I could blend in 
with everybody else, couldn't I?

Eileen blinked, puzzled.

MARTY
What time does school start around here?

EILEEN
Nine o' clock. (glancing at her watch) Oh, I'm late! Maybe I'll see you 
later.

MARTY
Yeah. Maybe so.

 Eileen flashed another smile at him, then turned and hurried down the 
walk. Marty shut the door and headed for the upstairs.

EXT. HIGH SCHOOL

Not much later, Marty walked up the steps of his future high school, 
amazed at the change. The grafitti was gone from the building, as were 
the broken windows and overall run-down worn-in look the place had held 
before -- or would later. All the tall trees on campus were much 
smaller, maybe half the size they were in 1982. The bell rang as he 
reached the door, a notebook in hand, and students streamed into the 
hallways.

Marty stared openly at his classmates. They all looked like people from 
an old movie, with the hair and clothes, the way they acted.... He 
walked through the hall and passed an open door. The classroom looked 
familiar and he stopped, looking inside.

INT. HIGH SCHOOL

After a moment of hesitation, Marty walked inside. Yeah, he had  been 
in it before! But everything looked a lot different -- newer. And the 
chalkboards were black, not green. He went over to the desk that would 
be his in thirty years and ran a hand across the smooth, shiny surface, 
devoid of any marks or carvings.

You there! he heard someone yell. Someone familiar.... 

MR. ARKY
What are you doing in this class?

Marty lifted his head up and found himself looking at Mr. Arky -- 
thirty years younger! His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened as he 
stared at the science teacher. He looked so different, age aside. Their 
was an energetic spark in his eyes that hadn't been there when Marty 
would have him for a teacher.

MARTY
Mr. Arky? 

Marty asked, blinking a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. 
He wasn't.

MR. ARKY
Yes, that's my name. Who are you, young man? Are you supposed to be 
here?

MARTY
Uh -- yeah. I'm new here, and I'm supposed to be in this class.

Mr. Arky nodded. 

MR. ARKY
You have a name?

MARTY
Marty. Marty Lewis.

Marty watched the girl in the seat next to him, his eyes focused on the 
old fountain pen she was filling with ink. He couldn't believe it. 
Where were the pens he was used to?

In the background, Mr. Arky continued with the day's lecture. Marty 
listened to him with half an ear, not paying much attention.

MR. ARKY
 ...and it is, of course, due to science that we Americans enjoy the 
highest standard of living in the history of the world. When we think 
of the technological advances made in just the past thirty years, it 
boggles the mind to imagine what the world will be like in another 
thirty years. I think I can safely say that we can all look forward to 
a world of plenty, a world free of disease and starvation. There'll be 
entire cities built under the sea, cars that can go two or three 
hundred miles an hour.

Marty stared at Mr. Arky in disbelief. Could he be serious? Marty 
glanced around and noticed the rest of the class looked bored, as if 
they had heard the lecture before.

MR. ARKY
You girls will be able to cook an entire meal, clean the entire house, 
and do all of your laundry and ironing by push button, the science 
teacher went on. You may even have a robot to assist you in all your 
duties as a wife.

STUDENT
I hope those robots won't be assisting in all my wife's duties! 

The class laughed, but Marty was distracted by something. Where had he 
heard that voice before? It sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't 
quite put his finger on it....

MR. ARKY
Well, Biff, since you seem so eager to get into this discussion, 
perhaps you'd like to tell us what you think you'll be doing in thirty 
years?

Marty turned around and saw Biff Tannen -- thirty years younger, of 
course -- slouched in the back desk with a bored expression on his 
face. Surrounding him were three other guys who were obviously friends 
of his. One was missing two front teeth, one chewed on a wooden match, 
and the other had a crewcut that made him look nearly bald. Marty 
stared at Biff, who appeared just as obnoxious as he was later in life.

BIFF
I know what I won't  be doin', he said with a smirk on his face. Goin' 
to school!

His three cronies broke out laughing.

GUMS
Hey, Biff, good one!

SKINHEAD
Ataway, Biff!

Biff suddenly noticed Marty's stare. He scowled at him. 

BIFF
What are you lookin' at, asshole?

Marty met Biff's glare, then turned away. Mr. Arky continued with his 
class, the confrontation unnoticed.

MR. ARKY
Anybody else have any ideas about what life might be like in thirty 
years?

The teacher's eyes roamed the class for volunteers. No one volunteered, 
as usual. At least  this hasn't changed , Marty thought with a chuckle.

MR. ARKY
Mr. Cusimano? Miss Voyles? Miss Kaner? So am I to understand that no 
one has anything at all to say about the future? (shifting his gaze to 
Marty) How about you, Mr. McFly?

Marty felt his face drain of color. He had been caught! 

MARTY
(muttering) Oh shit...!

 A few kids turned their heads to stare at him, shocked at his words, 
including Biff. Marty hardly had a chance to notice that when the 
student in front of him started to speak.

GEORGE
Well, I, uh....well....

Marty glanced at him, and did a double take. That person stuttering was 
none other then a younger version of George McFly -- his father! Marty 
couldn't believe it! First his mother, now this! George was a mess, 
shoulders slumped, hair uncombed, and an overall nerdy, wimpy look 
about him

MARTY
Jesus Christ! Dad!

The entire class now stared at Marty. Mr. Arky ignored it as best he 
could.

MR. ARKY
Continue, Mr. McFly.

Marty's father stood up slowly, as if he were getting called to his 
execution. Marty sighed and buried his face in his hands, shaking his 
head.

GEORGE
Well, I -- uh -- could you repeat the question? 

BIFF
Sit down, McFly, you stupid moron! I can't see! 

A second later, a spitball hit George in the back of the head. His face 
red, George sat down.
Marty whipped his head around, furious, and glared at Biff.

MARTY
Hey, lay off!

Biff glared back at him, his eyes narrowed in slits of hatred.

MR. ARKY
Did you say something, Mr. Lewis?

Marty didn't hear him, continuing to give Biff the worst look he could.

MR. ARKY
Mr. Lewis, I'm talking to you!

Marty snapped out of it, remembering who he was supposed to be.

MARTY
Who, me?

MR. ARKY
You're the only Mr. Lewis in this class.  If you have something to say, 
say it so the whole class can hear.

MARTY
Well, yeah, I was thinking, if cars are gonna be going two or three 
hundred miles an hour, they're gonna be using an awful lot of gas. 
Like, what if we run out?

MR. ARKY
Run out of gas? 

The class started laughing. Marty looked around, baffled. Was what he 
said that funny?

MR. ARKY
Well, class, it seems we have a doomsayer in our midst. I must say, Mr. 
Lewis, that's a mighty pessimistic attitude for a young man like 
yourself. First of all, with all the studies we have indicating the 
vast supplies of petroleum in the earth, plus the massive reserves that 
have yet to be discovered, the likelihood of any such shortage is 
highly remote. And even if the most improbable, catastrophic 
circumstances were to occur and we did have a shortage of petroleum, 
I'm sure that American technology and ingenuity would overcome the 
problem in no time at all. All in all, I'd say your time would be 
better spent worrying about the real problems that face our world, 
instead of a shortage of gasoline.

At the back of the class, Biff and his group started to make farting 
noises. 

BIFF
Hey, we got plenty of gas back here! 

The class erupted into laughter once again. Marty just shook his head.

Not much later, the bell rang, ending the science class. Everyone made 
a mad dash for the door, including Marty. He'd had enough humiliation 
for the day with Mr. Arky.

INT. HIGH SCHOOL - HALL

George waited until most of the other students had left before 
gathering up his books and heading for the door. Marty separated 
himself from the mob in the hall and stood outside the door, waiting 
for him. A minute later, George finally walked into the corridor. Marty 
waited a moment, then followed him, keeping his distance.

When they reached a hall intersection, Marty noticed Eileen headed for 
the two of them, her friend Madge with her. She didn't seem to see 
Marty, but her eyes locked on George and she smiled at him. 

EILEEN
Hi, George.

Marty watched as George looked over at her and became so flustered that 
he walked straight into another student in the hall. Eileen and her 
friend giggled and walked away. George's eyes followed her until she 
was out of sight, then he walked over to a drinking fountain.

As he leaned over and turned the fountain on, he misjudged the distance 
and the stream of water hit him right in the face. Marty shook his head 
from a few feet away, as George wiped the water from his eyes. From the 
fountain, George headed over to his locker. Marty watched him dial the 
combination and, as he opened the locker door, a pile of books fell 
out, nearly knocking him over. Marty looked away, sighing.

After George picked up his books, he started moving in the direction of 
the cafeteria. As Marty got in the lunch line behind him, he noticed a 
large poster tacked on the wall. Something about the Springtime in 
Paris Dance on Saturday, March 16th. Not too far off.

INT. CAFETERIA

Marty turned his attention to his father, watching the bored cafeteria 
ladies shovel out a overcooked pork chop, wilted salad, and green 
stewed tomatoes. Looks like the food isn't much better now then in 
1982, Marty thought, amused. George didn't seem to notice. Leaning 
forward a little, Marty could hear him muttering to himself.

GEORGE
Eileen, if you're free Saturday night... No... Eileen, would you like 
to go to the dance... no...

Something suddenly clicked and Marty looked at the poster again. Yeah, 
now he remembered! That was the dance his parents fell in love at!

The lunch line moved slowly, but eventually both he and George got 
through it. George looked around the crowded lunch room, searching for 
someone. Marty tried to follow where his eyes were roaming and after a 
moment, he realized George was staring at the table where Eileen, 
Madge, and a few other friends of theirs were sitting. George took a 
deep breath, then started walking over to the table. Marty followed, 
not too far behind.

As George approached the table, his hands started shaking, causing 
everything on his lunch tray to wobble around.

GEORGE
Uh, Eileen?

Eileen turned around and gave him a warm smile.

EILEEN
Hi, George.

Marty watched his future father, a bundle of nerves.

GEORGE
Eileen, could I ask you something? 

The creamed corn on his tray suddenly tipped over and spilled.

GEORGE
Ooops --!

Eileen smiled again, obviously not put off by it. George took another 
deep breath. 

GEORGE
Uh, well, the thing is, that is, what I wanted to ask you....

Marty decided this was too important to miss and crept closer so he 
could hear better. Unfortunately, Eileen spotted him.

EILEEN
Marty! (waving to him) Hi, Marty! Over here!

George spun around before Marty had a chance to do anything. The sudden 
movement causing George's entire tray to slip from his hands and spill 
all over his shirt.

GEORGE
Oh God! Excuse me, please!

He started to run off, but Marty grabbed his arm.

MARTY
Wait a minute -- aren't you gonna ask her to the dance? That was what 
was supposed to have happened, wasn't it?

George stared at him. 

GEORGE
Huh? How did you know?

Marty pushed him towards Eileen.

MARTY
Go ahead, George. Ask her.

George shoved his arms away. 

GEORGE
Leave me alone!

The gesture shocked Marty, but he shook his head. 

MARTY
You've gotta ask her to the dance!

GEORGE
 Not now....

George muttered, looking around the cafeteria. People were beginning to 
stare. Eileen had been watching the whole ordeal with interest. Now she 
spoke up. 

EILEEN
Is that what you were going to ask me, George? To go to the dance?

GEORGE
No!

George shouted, running away, out of the cafeteria.

MARTY
George! Wait! Get back here! You're not supposed to run off! It doesn't 
happen that way!

George didn't look back. Marty threw his hands up in the air 
helplessly.

MARTY
Oh, God, this is all wrong!

Eileen stared at him with concern. 

EILEEN
What's all wrong?

Marty ran a hand through his hair, agitated.

MARTY
George! He's supposed to ask you to the dance!

EILEEN
But he didn't ask me.

MARTY
But he does! Don't you see?

By the blank expression on Eileen's face, it was obvious that she 
didn't. Marty quickly explained: 

MARTY
He comes out of the cafeteria line, he's nervous, he spills his corn, 
and he asks you to the dance!

EILEEN
Marty, you haven't been listening. Nobody's asked me to the 
dance...yet.

She gives him a flirtatious smile before picking up her empty lunch 
tray and walking away. Oh, no she couldn't be.... Marty sat down in a 
chair, quick, as his legs threatened to give out on him. Eileen, his 
mother, she -- she....

MARTY
I know.

INT. BROWN MANSION

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
You did what?!?

Professor Brown yelled as Marty finished telling him what had gone on 
that morning. It was later in the afternoon, they were in his study. 
Marty had gone to the Professor right away, since he had no idea what 
to do and needed some advice. His friend was taking the news better 
then Marty had expected.

MARTY
I didn't mean to do it -- it was an accident!

Professor Brown shook his head.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Do you realize what that means? Do you have any idea what that means?

Marty shrugged. 

MARTY
Look, it's not a big deal! I can fix it! All I gotta do is get 'em 
together and make sure my old man asks her out!

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
You better make sure your old man asks her out, because if he doesn't, 
they may never have a first date. And if they don't have a first date, 
they won't have a second date. If they don't have a second date, they 
won't fall in love. If they don't fall in love, they won't get married, 
and if they don't get married, you'll never be born!

Marty swallowed hard. 

MARTY
Well, maybe everything is a little worse then I first thought, he 
realized.

EXT. MALT SHOP

The next day, Marty brought George to the malt shop. It was after 
classes and all the high school students were in there, including 
Eileen.

GEORGE
I don't know if I can go through with this!

George moaned as they drew closer to the building. Marty dodged two 
kids on homemade scooters as they sped by them on the sidewalk. His 
eyes followed them for a moment, the vehicles reminding him of 
skateboards.

MARTY
George, she's beautiful, right? She's nice, she's decent, she's the 
kind of girl you'd like to marry, right? And there's nothing in the 
world you'd like more than to take her to that dance, right?

GEORGE
Well... yeah...

MARTY
Okay, then!

Suddenly, George stopped, turned and faced him, his eyes narrowed 
suspiciously. 

GEORGE
Wait a minute -- who are you, anyway? What are you doing this for?

Marty hesitated.

MARTY
Let's just say I have a vested interest in you and Eileen going to this 
dance, all right? Look, (pointing though the window of the malt shop) 
There she is...

Eileen was sitting at a table with Madge and some other girl, each 
having ice cream sodas and talking.
 
MARTY
Go in there and invite her.

Marty nudging George in the direction of the doors, but George stayed 
put.

GEORGE
What do I say?

MARTY
Say what you were supposed to say in the cafeteria.

George shook his head quickly. 

GEORGE
Oh, no! That was for the cafeteria! This is different!

MARTY
Christ, it's a miracle I was even born! (mutters under his breath, 
rolling his eyes)

GEORGE
Huh?

MARTY
Nothing. Look, I'll write it down for you, okay? 

Marty took the notebook George had in his hands and ripped a page out. 
He pulled his pen out and started jotting down some helpful lines. 
George stared at the pen as he wrote.

GEORGE
What is that? A pencil that writes in ink?

MARTY
It was Marty's turn to be confused. Huh?

GEORGE
Lemme see that.

George plucked the pen from his hand and looked it at it carefully. 

GEORGE
'Bike fine point?' 

MARTY
Bic... It's a Bic pen.

George frowned. How do you fill it with ink?

MARTY
Fill it with ink? You don't fill it -- oh come on, George! 

INT. MALT SHOP

He pushed him into the malt shop, tired of the procrastination. As soon 
as they entered, Marty steered him in the direction of Eileen's table 
and handed him the paper he had written on.

MARTY
There she is, he said in a low voice. Just go and ask her. I'll be 
sitting right here.

Marty takes an empty seat at the counter. George looked at him, and 
then over at Eileen. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, then 
suddenly veered back to the counter.

GEORGE
Gimme a strawberry malted

Marty shook his head, wondering if he would ever get to Eileen. While 
he waited for the drink, George examined the paper Marty gave him and 
mouthed the dialog to himself, apparently trying to memorize it. A 
moment later, the malt came and he took a swig of it, the drink leaving 
an unnoticed pink moustache on his face. He turned around and started 
to approach Eileen. Finally, Marty thought. George was still several 
feet away when Eileen looked up and spotted him.

EILEEN
Hi, George!

He took a step back, startled.

GEORGE
Uh, hi, Eileen.

EILEEN
How are you?

GEORGE
Oh -- I'm all right. Say, listen, about this dance Saturday night --

The door to the malt shop was suddenly thrown open. 

BIFF
Hey, McFly, I thought I told you never to come in here! 

Biff Tannen stood in the doorway with his gang behind him. George took 
one look at him and shuddered. Marty let his head fall in his hands 
with a sigh. They had been so goddamn close!

BIFF
Well, it's gonna cost you, McFly. How much money you got on you?

George pulled out his wallet and opened it.

GEORGE
How much do you want, Biff?

Biff crossed the room, on his way to George. As he passed, Marty 
stretched his leg out and tripped the bully. Biff crashed to the floor, 
taking a chair down with him. People started to laugh, but Biff 
scowled. He didn't think it was too funny. He got to his feet and 
stepped over to where Marty sat, his back to him.

BIFF
Listen, asshole, he growled, it's about time I taught you a lesson. 

Biff put a hand on his arm and at his touch, Marty spun around on the 
stool and threw his fist into Biff's face! Unprepared, Biff fell back 
onto a table. Marty jumped off the stool. The cafe was deathly silent 
and Biff's three henchmen started to approach him. Marty decided it was 
time for him to leave the building and he pushed his way out of the 
crowded teen hangout and onto Main Street.

EXT. STREET

Marty ran down the street, hearing the pounding footsteps of Biff and 
his gang behind him. He cast a quick look over his shoulder and saw 
them closing the gap that separated them. He was going to be dead meat! 
One of the kids on the homemade scooters sailed by, and Marty suddenly 
had an idea. He grabbed the scooter and pulled it away from the kid, 
kicking the orange crate off the board with the skates on it and 
leaving a crude skateboard!

Marty jumped on it and sped down the street. Biff and his gang stopped 
in their tracks and stared at him, amazed. Likewise with the crowd that 
had moved out of the malt shop.

BIFF
In the car!

They raced to the black convertible, Biff getting behind the wheel. He 
gunned the engine, heading straight for Marty. Marty glanced over his 
shoulder and saw the convertible quickly gaining on him. He cut a sharp 
turn in the middle of the street and crossed before Biff's car, then 
started to retrace his steps back to the malt shop. A car passed him, 
and Marty grabbed onto the back of it, ignoring the stunned looks of 
everyone around, including Biff and his gang.

Biff executed a quick U-turn and continued his pursuit of Marty. As he 
passed the malt shop, the spectators cheered.

MADGE
Did you see that? 

Eileen nodded, her mouth open, impressed.

Biff's convertible raced past the cafe, hot on the trail of Marty. 
Marty risked another look back. His eyes widened in panic as he saw 
Biff's convertible closing in on the distance, quick. Was there no end 
to his maniacal determination? Marty turned his attention back to the 
front. He saw Hill Street intersecting up ahead. Instinctively, he 
released his hold on the car and leaned into the board, turning it onto 
the street. Biff once again overshot the street and had to do another 
U-turn to get on it.

Hill Street was not named by accident -- it was incredibly steep. At 
the bottom of the hill was an intersection with traffic lights. Marty 
felt the board pick up speed. Behind him, Biff was putting the pedal to 
the metal, the tires actually leaving the ground as he leapt onto Hill 
Street! Once again, he quickly closed in on the distance between the 
convertible and the skateboard. Marty crouched down, cutting the wind 
resistance down, and the skateboard picked up speed. He was approaching 
the intersection, fast! The light turned yellow.

Closing his eyes and mouthing a silent prayer, Marty flew through the 
traffic, cars skidding to a stop and swerving to avoid hitting him. 
Miraculously, he made it to the other side unscathed.
 Such could not be said for Biff. His breaks locked up as he tried to 
avoid a red car ahead, and the convertible's tires skidded across the 
road. Marty winced in anticipation as Biff headed straight for a red 
car. At the last minute, the car pulled away and Biff slammed into a 
cop car in the next lane of traffic! Two big cops immediately got out 
and headed straight for Biff, not looking too happy.

Biff let out an angry sigh.

BIFF
I'm gonna get that son of a bitch!

 Marty left the site, a satisfied smile on his face. Biff had gotten 
what he deserved. He turned onto a residential street, his mind 
wandering as he leisurely skateboarded. About ten minutes later, he 
reached an intersection next to his future home, and saw Eileen 
approaching the house...with George! Marty skidded to a stop, grabbed 
the board, and ducked behind some bushes to watch.

George, carrying Eileen's books, was walking her to the door. They were 
talking, but Marty couldn't catch any of the conversation. After a 
moment, George gave Eileen her books and they shook hands very formal-
like.

He must've finally asked her to the dance! Marty sighed, glad to have 
that mission finally accomplished and dropped his board on the ground, 
skateboarding away from Eileen's house to the Professor's place to tell 
him the news. He never saw George, after Eileen had closed the door, 
throw his jacket down in the street and slump down in the gutter, 
dropping his head in his hands, dejected instead of exuberant.

INT. BROWN MANSION

That evening, Marty lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling in deep 
thought. Eventually, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out 
the business card from Reginald. Marty looked at it for a long 
time...then shredded it into tiny scraps. He pushed himself off the bed 
and let the papers fall into the trash can. Then he pulled out the 
crumpled textbook page and went downstairs with it, heading for the 
study.

Professor Brown was seated at the desk, his back to the door, hunched 
over something. As Marty entered, he made a quick movement, as if he 
was trying to hide the fact he had been listening to the micro-cassette 
recorder again, the gunshot portion. Marty didn't notice, too caught up 
in his own problems.

MARTY
Professor, you were right about everything. I don't belong here. I 
almost screwed up my existence again today while I was trying to put it 
back together, and I've had enough. I want to go back to the future.

Marty handed him the textbook page, pointing at the caption under the 
photograph. The frown on the Professor's face changed to a smile and 
his eyes lit up. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Where did you get this?

MARTY
I brought it with me from 1982. It's from my science book.

Professor Brown looked at it more closely. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
The test is this Monday! 15 megatons... Let's see, we need 4200 rads... 
(doing calculations on a slide rule, lying on the desk) You'd have to 
be...exactly 800 yards from ground zero... You realize that what we're 
going to do could be extremely dangerous.

MARTY
Believe me, Professor, running around on a nuclear test site can't be 
any more dangerous than what I've been doing.

The Professor stared at him a moment, then nodded. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
All right, here's what we'll do: we'll get an Army Surplus Truck, mount 
the time machine and power converter on it, and drive it to Nevada. If 
we leave by Saturday night, we can make it to the test site in plenty 
of time. And just to be on the safe side, I'd better build a lead-lined 
time chamber for your added protection. I don't know if I trust these 
atomic bombs.

The telephone rang before Professor Brown could say anything else. He 
reached over and picked it up. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Hello? Uh, no, Eileen, he can't come to the phone right now. 

Marty stared at him, his heart starting to pound with alarm.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
All right. Yes, I'll tell him... Good-bye. 

He hung up and turned to Marty with a grave expression. Marty had a 
sinking feeling that he was not going to like what he had to say. He 
was right.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Your 'mother' wanted me to tell you that she was very impressed by what 
you did this afternoon, and that if you were interested in going to the 
dance Saturday, she's available.

MARTY
But that's impossible!! George asked her out! He had to! I saw him walk 
her home! Oh, God! 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
My guess is that she turned him down.

MARTY
But why? Why would she do that? She's supposed to marry the guy!

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Apparently, what has happened is that the maternal instinct has 
transcended the gap of time and this has caused an alteration in your 
mother's emotional behavior.

MARTY
(swallowing hard) Are you trying to tell me that my mother's got the 
hots for me?

The Professor thought about that for a moment.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
In a manner of speaking, yes. And because of that, she's no longer 
interested in your father.

MARTY
Jesus! 

Marty sat down in a nearby chair.

MARTY
What are we gonna do?

INT. MALT SHOP

Marty stepped into the malt shop the next day, his eyes on Eileen and 
Madge, both sitting at the same table as they were the day before, once 
again talking and drinking ice cream sodas. He crossed the room and sat 
down with them, to Eileen's delight.

MARTY
How ya doing, Eileen?

Eileen smiled. She and her friend exchanged a glance.

EILEEN
Hi, Marty!

MARTY
Listen, (hands under the table) Professor Brown told me you called last 
night and gave me your message...

He carefully taped the micro-cassette recorder to the bottom of the 
table and pressed the record button. Neither girl seemed to notice 
anything. 

MARTY
...and if you're still available, I'd like to take you to the dance 
Saturday night, so I'll pick you up around 8:30, okay?

Eileen smiled and nodded as Marty stood up to leave. 

EILEEN
Okay. See you later, Marty.

Marty gave her a cheerful wave as he left the malt shop. He pretended 
to walk away, then ducked behind a nearby building. A few minutes 
later, Eileen and Madge came out. He waited until they were out of 
sight before running in the shop and prying the recorder loose.

Later that night, in the Professor's garage, Marty played it back for 
the both of them. Professor Brown had been welding sheet lead metal 
into a large Philco Refrigerator. The time machine was now resting in 
the bed of an Army truck. The Professor had also modified the top of 
the refrigerator to hold the beam focusing unit so the time beam would 
shine directly into the fridge.

MARTY (on tape)
 ...so I'll pick you up around 8:30, okay?

EILEEN (on tape)
Okay. See you later, Marty.

He heard the sounds of him walking away and leaving the shop. Almost as 
soon as the door shut behind him, the girls started talking about him.

EILEEN (on tape)
Isn't he a dream? (letting out a giddy sigh)

MADGE (on tape)
Boy, I've never seen you fall for anybody like that before!

Eileen sighed again. 

EILEEN (on tape)
I know. I've never felt like this about anybody before. I really don't 
understand it, but I just feel like -- like mothering him.

 Marty and the Professor exchanged a look.

MADGE (on tape)
But what about George? I thought you wanted him to ask you.

EILEEN (on tape)
He did ask me....but I turned him down.

MADGE (on tape)
Why? (surprised) You always thought George was cute because he was so 
shy.

EILEEN (on tape)
Well, that's what I thought. But he really isn't shy. He's just 
chicken.

The Professor suddenly grabbed the recorder from Marty's hands and 
rewound the last sentence.

EILEEN (on tape)
He's just chicken.

Eileen said again.

EXT. GEORGE McFLY'S BACKYARD - SATURDAY MORNING

MARTY
Come on, George, 

Marty said facing off with him in his backyard. 

MARTY
Don't be such a chicken. Hit me in the stomach. Right here, go ahead.

He held his arms away from his body, making himself an easy target. 
Behind him, a duffel bag packed with clothes swung from a tree, as a 
homemade body bag. George didn't make a move.

GEORGE
I don't want to hit you in the stomach!

MARTY
You're not gonna hurt me. Just hit me in the stomach.

GEORGE
Look, Marty, I'm just not a fighter...

Marty rolled his eyes. 

MARTY
How many times do I have to explain it to you?... We know you're not a 
fighter. You know it, I know it... but she doesn't know it. That's why 
we gotta make you look like a fighter, somebody who'll stand up for 
her, somebody who isn't chicken. And you're not gonna look like a 
fighter if you can't hit me in the stomach.

GEORGE
 But I've never picked a fight in my entire life!

MARTY
You're not picking a fight, you're coming to her rescue. Maybe we'd 
better go over the plan again. Where are you gonna be at 8:55?

GEORGE
I'm going to be at the dance.

MARTY
And where am I gonna be?

GEORGE
In the parking lot, with her.

Marty nodded, glad to see that he had been paying attention.

MARTY
Okay. So right around 9:00 she's gonna get very angry with me -

GEORGE
Why?

MARTY
Why what?

GEORGE
Why is she gonna get angry with you?

Marty hesitated.

MARTY
Well... because...  Well, nice girls get angry at guys who...who try to 
take advantage of 'em.

George looked at him in disbelief. 

GEORGE
You mean, you're gonna --

MARTY
George it's not your concern. Don't worry about it. Just remember that 
at 9:00, you'll be strolling through the parking lot and you'll see us 
-- struggling in the car, you'll run over, open the door and say....?

Marty waited for George, but he didn't say anything. 

MARTY
Your line, George!

GEORGE
Oh. Uh... 'Hey, you! Get your damn hands off her!'  George paused. You 
really think I should swear?

MARTY
Yes, definitely, god dammit George, swear. Then you hit me in the 
stomach, I go down for the count, and you and Eileen life happily ever 
after. Now, hit me in the stomach.

George took a deep breath and tentatively threw his fist into Marty's 
stomach. Marty shook his head.

GEORGE
No, George, put a little emotion into it. A little hostility, a little 
anger.

He tried it again, this time making faces. The second punch wasn't much 
better then the one before it.

MARTY
Anger, George, Anger.

George hesitated.

GEORGE
Maybe if I used my left....

MARTY
No, George, just concentrate on the anger. Anger.

The third punch George tried was a little bit better. But still not 
what Marty was looking for. He sighed.

MARTY
Well, I think you're starting to get the hang of it. Just keep 
practicing. I'll see you tonight. Remember, anger, George. Anger.

He walked away, leaving George alone in the yard.
George stared at the body bag, trying to think of something that would 
make him really angry. 

GEORGE
Anger...anger.... he muttered.

He hit it, the punches coming harder and harder each time. George 
smiled, finally getting the hang of it. He pulled his fist back, ready 
to sock it to the bag. Unfortunately, he misjudged the distance and his 
fist slammed into the tree trunk.

GEORGE
Yeeeowww! God dammit!

With his left fist, George attacked the bag with everything he had -- 
and knocked it completely off the tree! He stared at it for a long 
time, shocked.

EXT. BROWN MANSION

It was the night of the dance. The time machine and refrigerator -- now 
successfully lead-lined -- was completely assembled in the back of the 
truck. Beside it sat the power converter and a motorcycle with sidecar. 
As Professor Brown pulled a tap over the back, Marty placed his 1982 
clothes in a laundry bag, with some bottles of Coke.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Everything's ready to go, securing the tarp carefully. (looking up) 
What about the chemicals for the power converter... whatever they are?

Marty opened the door and stashed the laundry bag at the floor of the 
passenger seat. 

MARTY
That's all taken care of.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Good. Professor Brown tested the tarp, noting in satisfaction that it 
was secure. I'll pick you up in front of the school at midnight. Don't 
be late -- we're cutting it close as it is. We've got a long drive 
ahead of us.

Marty nodded. He twisted his tie around his fingers, almost 
absentmindedly. He wasn't feeling too hot about the next few hours.

MARTY
Look. I'm a little worried about this -- this whole thing with my 
mother, he admitted to the Professor. I mean, I don't know if I can do 
it -- I mean, hitting on my own mother, that's pretty heavy.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Nobody said anything about hitting her! You're just going to take a few 
liberties with her.

MARTY
That's exactly what I said! I mean, a guy and his mother -- that's 
illegal, isn't it?

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Look, Marty, she's not your mother yet. And if you don't go through 
with this, she may never be. I know it's hard, but there are some 
things we must do in life that are unpleasant. Some choices must be 
made that are difficult. Nonetheless, we must make them. Besides, this 
may be more than a simple question of your own existence, he added. The 
fate of the entire space-time continuum may rest on your shoulders
.
Marty tried to smile at him. 

MARTY
That's just what I needed to hear.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
It'll be fine, Marty. (patting him on the shoulder) You'll be fine. 
Good luck. He stuck his hand out and Marty shook it. But there was 
still a question that was nagging at him...

MARTY
Professor, if something does go wrong tonight... if I don't get my 
parents back together... when do you think I'd cease to exist?

The Professor shrugged. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
There's no way of knowing.

MARTY
Perfect...

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
It could happen at the moment you arrive back in the future, 
theoretically, it could happen at the moment of your birth...or 
conception. Actually, it could happen at any time. It's a question to 
which I hope we'll never learn the answer.

Marty nodded vigorously.

MARTY
Amen.

INT. CAR - HIGH SCHOOL PARKING LOT

Not too much later, Marty pulled into the high school parking lot with 
Eileen at his side in the Professor's Packard. He carefully parked the 
car. It was hard for him to look at his mother, Eileen, in the dress 
she was wearing. It was a light pink color, low cut, showing off her 
cleavage. He stared at the clock in the dashboard instead.

MARTY
Uh... let's just sit here for a few minutes... (voice cracking)

Eileen looked at him with motherly concern.

EILEEN
Are you all right, Marty? You seem a little...nervous.

MARTY
Oh, no, I'm fine...fine.

He tried to smile at her. It came out pretty shaky. But Eileen smiled 
back a moment later.

EILEEN
I'm usually nervous myself on first dates...but not tonight. It's 
funny, but somehow, I feel like....like I know you.

MARTY
Uh, yeah, well, believe me, I sure feel like I know you! 

He wondered how George was doing, and wished he'd hurry up and get his 
ass out here!

INT. HIGH SCHOOL DANCE

The dance was in full swing. The band, Lester Moon and the Midnighters, 
were on stage, playing The Blue Tango. In the middle of the dance floor 
was a big paper-mache Eiffel Tower, around which students were doing 
the Tango. George looked up at the clock in the gym. 8:59. He quickly 
looked at his watch. It read 8:55. Which one was right?

He ran over to a student nearby. 

GEORGE
What time do you have?

NEARBY STUDENT
(looking at his watch) Five after nine.

George let out a moan and ran as fast as he could from the gym!
    

INT. CAR - HIGH SCHOOL PARKING LOT

Marty shifted uncomfortably in the seat and glanced at the clock again.

EILEEN
Why are you so nervous? 

Eileen asked with a frown, watching him carefully. Marty took a deep 
breath, trying to steady himself. He had to get a grip!

MARTY
Well, Eileen...jeez, that's hard for me to say. Have you ever been in a 
situation where -- well -- you know you have to act a certain way, but 
when you get there, you don't know if you can go through with it?

EILEEN
You mean like how you're supposed to act with someone on a first date?

Marty titled his head to the side. 

MARTY
Well, sort of....

Eileen nodded, interrupting him.

EILEEN
I think I know exactly what you mean.

MARTY
You do?

Eileen nodded again, slower.

EILEEN
And you know what I do in those situations?

Marty finally looked at her, waiting for the answer.

EILEEN
I don't worry about it!

The words had barely left her lips when she lunged at Marty, nearly 
knocking him over, starting to kiss him passionately. Eileen climbed 
all over him, her skirt everywhere. She reached out and took Marty's 
hand, lying limp at his side, and placed it on the top of her bare 
breasts. Marty couldn't move, paralysed in shock that this promiscuous 
teenager was his mother!
    

INT. HIGH SCHOOL -  PAY PHONE

George stood at a pay phone, quickly dialing the number for the time. 
The phone rang two long times before a woman answered.

WOMAN (on phone)
At the tone, the time will be 9:00 exactly.

Before the tone could go off, George dropped the phone and raced down 
the hall. He had to get to the parking lot!
    

INT. CAR - HIGH SCHOOL PARKING LOT

Eileen had been attacking Marty for about a minute -- a very long 
minute in Marty's opinion -- before she suddenly stopped and pushed him 
away. The buttons at the top of her dress were undone and her bra was 
exposed.

EILEEN
This isn't right.
    

INT. HIGH SCHOOL

George reached the front of the school doors and threw them open. 
Suddenly, he was jerked to a stop. He looked behind him and saw his 
jacket had caught on the door jamb. He tried frantically to get it 
loose, all the while aware of the seconds ticking by.
    

INT. CAR - HIGH SCHOOL PARKING LOT

EILEEN
I don't know what it is, but...when I kiss you...something's wrong. It 
almost feels like...like I was kissing my brother...or my father.... I 
don't understand it, but I just know it's wrong. (looking at Marty, 
eyes wide) I guess that doesn't make any sense, does it?

Marty stared at her, finally finding his voice. 

MARTY
Believe me, it makes perfect sense.

Sudden footsteps crunched on gravel, approaching the car. Eileen 
glanced outside. 

EILEEN
Sounds like somebody's coming.

The steps grew closer. Marty looked at the clock. Nine on the dot.

MARTY
(murmurs) Not now, George! Not now....

The driver's door was suddenly thrown open. Marty had hardly turned 
toward it when he was yanked out of the car roughly. Instead of George, 
he saw someone he had not expected in the least. It was Biff!

BIFF
I been lookin' for you, asshole, the bully growled in a low voice. 

He shoved Marty over to Skinhead, standing nearby. Marty fought to get 
free, but he was no match for Biff's gang. Three against one was never 
good odds.

EILEEN
Let go of him!

Eileen demanded, watching the spectacle from inside the car.

EILEEN
Leave him alone!

 A smile spread across Biff's face when he noticed Eileen.

BIFF
Look at what we have here! 

His eyes traveled across her body and he saw her bra half exposed. 

BIFF
Eileen -- I didn't know you were that kinda girl!

EILEEN
I'm not! 

Eileen started to climb out of the car.

BIFF
Oh no, you don't!

Before she could get anywhere, Biff grabbed her and pushed her back 
inside, then climbed in after her. He looked at his gang as he pulled a 
struggling Eileen towards him.

BIFF
Take him around back. I'll join you in a minute.

His gang made no move to leave.

BIFF
Go on! This ain't no peepshow!

Marty tried to get free and help his mom -- do  something -- but he was 
helpless! As he was dragged away, he saw Biff slam the door and lunge 
toward Eileen to kiss her. She fought and a moment later, all Marty saw 
were her skirts and flailing arms and legs. Eileen was trying to 
scream, but Biff -- in some way or another -- kept cutting her off.

EXT. HIGH SCHOOL - SIDE ENTRANCE

Marty was dragged around a corner, the car vanishing from his view. A 
man stood at the side door, smoking something. Marty twisted his head 
around and saw him about the same time the black man saw them. It was 
Reginald Washington, the same guy who had liked his music.

REGINALD WASHINGTON
Hey! What's going on there?

Marty tried to answer, but one of the bullies conveniently had their 
hand over his mouth. 

GUMS
Beat it, black boy!

Reginald took a step forward. 

REGINALD WASHINGTON
Hey, now, you'd better --

SKINHEAD
Listen, spook, you lookin' for trouble? 

REGINALD WASHINGTON
No, sir, I don't want no trouble. 

Reginald backed away and went back into the school. Marty was left 
alone, at the mercy of Biff's gang.
    

EXT. HIGH SCHOOL

George finally managed to get his jacket free and ran down the front 
steps across to the parking lot.

EXT. HIGH SCHOOL PARKING LOT

He hurried through the lot, his eyes skimming the rows of car for the 
cream colored Packard. Finally, he zeroed in on it. His eyes widened as 
he saw that Eileen and Marty were struggling inside, Eileen screaming. 
George steadied himself, hiked up his pants, and rushed to the side of 
the car. He opened the driver's side door.

GEORGE
Hey, you! he said forcefully. Get your damn hands -- uh oh!

It wasn't Marty inside with Eileen. When the guy inside turned around, 
he saw with horror that it was Biff Tannen instead! An icy stab of fear 
hit George in the chest.

BIFF
(deadly serious) I think you got the wrong car, McFly.

EILEEN
(struggling to sit up) George! Help me!

George looked at her, feeling strangely detached from the situation. He 
didn't know what to do! A part of him wanted to run as fast and far 
away as possible, but at the same time he knew he couldn't leave Eileen 
alone with Biff. 

BIFF
(same deadly serious voice) Just close the door, McFly, and walk away.

EILEEN
George! Please! Help me!

George stood rooted to where he was, unable to make up his mind. His 
eyes darted between Biff's mask of anger, and Eileen's tear streaked 
face. What should he do?

EXT. HIGH SCHOOL - SIDE ENTRANCE
    
Marty was shoved back against the school wall. His head slammed against 
the concrete wall and he winced. Gums and Match kept a firm hold on 
him, so he couldn't get away. Across from him, Skinhead pulled his fist 
back, ready to slam Marty in the face. Marty closed his eyes, tensing 
up, waiting for the blow.

But it never came. Instead he heard footsteps and cries of surprise 
from Biff's gang. He opened his eyes and saw that Reginald had brought 
some friends. It was the band that was playing at the dance.

BAND MEMBER
Who you callin' 'spook', peckerwood?!

Skinhead tried to throw a punch at him -- but the guy got him instead! 
Then the rest of the men went after Gums and Match - who saw them 
approaching and tried to make a run for it, releasing Marty. Marty 
darted away to the parking lot, not letting the chance to escape pass 
by. He had to get back to Eileen!
    

EXT. HIGH SCHOOL PARKING LOT

George stared at Biff, who stared back angrily.

BIFF
All right, McFly, I asked you politely to leave. Now I'm gonna have to 
teach you a lesson!

Biff stepped out of the car and before George could move, he grabbed 
his right arm and twisted it back. George let out a moan of pain. Biff 
started laughing, as if it was some kind of great joke. The laugh 
taunted George, made him angrier and angrier.

Without thinking about it, his left hand clenched into a fist and he 
spun around. His fist connected solidly with Biff's face, and the smile 
dropped from the bully's face a second before he dropped to the ground, 
out cold!

George looked at his hand, stunned, as if he couldn't believe that it 
had done such a thing. Marty reached the site just then, skidding to a 
stop. Eileen climbed out of the car and gave George a hug. He hugged 
her back tentatively. Marty ducked back into the shadows, not wanting 
to be spotted by either one of them and ruin the moment. A few other 
kids from the dance were migrating toward the site now. 

GIRL
Did you see that? 

GUY
Kid's got the greatest left hook since Jo Louis! Laid 'im out cold with 
one punch!

ONLOOKER
Somebody better call an ambulance.

Marty shook his head, amazed that they were talking about his father! 
He watched George and Eileen walk slowly toward the school, arm in arm. 
Right before they entered, Eileen turned around and caught sight of 
Marty staring at them. She gave him a shy smile and he grinned at her 
in return. Once they entered the building, he turned and ran back to 
the side of the school, where he had left Biff's gang.

EXT. HIGH SCHOOL - SIDE ENTRANCE

The band members were running off Biff's gang. As Marty approached 
them, one of them got one last kick at Skinhead in the ass before they 
spilt. 

MARTY
Hey, thanks a lot, you guys, 

The three hoods scatterred into the night.

BAND MEMBER
It's okay.

MARTY
Well, you guys go back in there and play the best version of 'Turn Back 
the Hands of Time' that you can, glancing towards the door.

The band members shook their heads.

BAND MEMBER 2
Sorry, my friend, we're through for tonight.

 Marty looked at them, stunned.

MARTY
What do you mean?

DRUMMER
Look at Lester's hand. He smashed it on top of old Skinhead. We can't 
play without Lester.

Marty glanced at Lester, who was wrapping a handkerchief around his 
bruised and bleeding hand.

MARTY
But you guys have to play! The dance isn't over yet! You gotta play 
'Turn Back the Hands of Time'. My parents gotta -- George, Eileen gotta 
dance the last dance and kiss!

BAND MEMBER
 Hey, man, the dance is over...unless you can find somebody who can 
play the guitar.

 Marty turned to look at Reginald.

INT. HIGH SCHOOL DANCE - STAGE

Marty stood on stage with the band, playing Turn Back the Hands of Time 
with them. He could see his parents dancing cheek to cheek in the 
middle of the dance floor. Marty watched them carefully as the song 
ended, holding his breath. They leaned forward slowly, 
hesitantly....then their lips met in a kiss! He smiled in relief, then 
checked the time. A few minutes before midnight.

Marty stepped forward to the microphone set up.

MARTY
Well, folks, that about wraps it up for this evening....

The students moaned in disappointment.

STUDENTS
Aww, one more!    Just one more!

MARTY
You want one more, huh?

Marty looked at the clock again, then turned to the band. None of them 
appeared to have any objections. He looked at the crowd, considering, 
then finally decided to go for it. 

MARTY
Well, I probably shouldn't do this, but what the hell, you're gonna be 
hearing a lot of this in the future anyway... (turning around) Follow 
me, fellas, he told the band members.

Marty walked over to his amp and twisted the volume to the maximum 
amount it would go. He placed his guitar against it and shattered the 
expectant silence of the gym with a loud riff from the instrument. The 
audience looked both shocked and horrified, and the band exchanged 
looks of confusion. Marty started in on a Chuck Berry song, Johnny B. 
Goode, expressions in the gym changing to astonishment. It took a 
moment, but the band finally figured out what was going on and joined 
in. Marty grinned as the first -- very first -- sound of rock 'n roll 
was heard.

Kids started dancing, only a few at first, then more joined in. Marty 
started moving on stage, like the rockers did at heavy metal concerts. 
The crowd roared, total pandemonium breaking out on the dance floor. No 
one had ever heard this kind of music before! The band got more and 
more enthusiastic as the chaperones clasped their hands tightly to 
their ears, horrified expressions on their faces.

Marty shifted the music to Rock Around the Clock, noting in 
satisfaction that the entire gym was dancing to the music. He loosened 
the tie around his neck, sweating from those hot stage lights, then 
decided to just take his jacket off. He yanked it off his body and 
tossed it into the crowd.
 Meanwhile, out in the hall, an old teacher who had been chaperoning 
the dance was on the phone. 

OLD TEACHER
That's right, officer, (over the music) there's a riot in the school 
gym!

In the gym, on the stage, the man with the sax stepped forward and 
improvised an impressive solo. Then it was Marty's turn. He reached up 
and tore open his shirt, making all the girls shriek. Finally, with a 
nervous look at the clock, he wrapped the music up with a final riff. 
The walls of the gym shook with the applause. Marty took a bow and 
smiled at the crowd. Behind him, the Midnighters were breathless with 
all the excitement.

MARTY
Good night, everybody!

Marty shouted into the mike. He stepped back, heading for the door, but 
the band members crowded around him.

REGINALD WASHINGTON
Man, that stuff cooks! That's the hottest sound I ever heard! You gotta 
play that Monday for that record company cat from New York!

Marty lost the smile on his face, suddenly serious.

MARTY
I won't be there Monday.

The band members looked stunned. Marty continued to talk before they 
could ask any questions.

MARTY
And don't you guys play it either, he cautioned. It's time hasn't come 
yet. If you play it, you might screw things up. It'll happen on it's 
own.

LESTER
What are you talking about?

MARTY
Rock'n roll!

He turned and ran off stage, darting though the halls to the front of 
the building. Outside, he could see Professor Brown's truck in front of 
the school, engine idling, waiting to go.
Marty burst out of the school and jumped into the cab, slamming the 
door behind him. 

INT. TRUCK

He noticed that the Professor was in an Army uniform. 

MARTY
Everything's cool. (breathless) They danced, they kissed, they're in 
love! Let's go!

Professor Brown put his foot on the gas and they tore out of the 
parking lot.
    

INT. TRUCK - HOURS LATER

Several hours later, Marty was still talking about the evening's events 
to the Professor. 

MARTY
I sure wish I could have seen the punch!

It was almost three in the morning.

MARTY
I mean, he decked him -- laid him out cold -- one punch. It must have 
been beautiful! I didn't know he had it in him!

Professor Brown took his eyes off the road a moment to look at Marty, 
something about what he was saying making him uneasy. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
You didn't?

MARTY
Nope. My father's never clenched a fist in his entire life!

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Curious... (sudden concern) Very curious.

Marty shook his head, unaware of the Professor's worries.

MARTY
I just wish I could have seen it...

He let his voice trail off, staring out the dark window, at the highway 
unwinding before them. Professor Brown turned his attention back to 
driving. For the first time all evening, Marty lapsed into silence. 
When the Professor next looked at him, ten minutes later, he was 
slumped back in his seat, his forehead resting against the window, eyes 
closed and snoring softly. Professor Brown didn't disturb him. Marty 
had a long and busy night and deserved some rest. Especially 
considering how much work had to be done in the next day.

The light of dawn had hardly begun to shine in the east when they 
crossed the state line into Nevada. The Professor pulled into a gas 
station and stopped the car. The tank was running low and they still 
had a ways to go. Not to mention that, according to a sign next to the 
station, there would be no more chances to fill up for 150 miles.

EXT. GAS STATION

Professor Brown turned to Marty and shook him awake, then handed him 
his bag and told him to go change. As Marty headed for the bathroom, 
the Professor got out of the truck and headed for the small building 
where the grizzled gas attendant was waiting.    

INT. GAS STATION - BATHROOM

Inside the bathroom, Marty quickly changed out of the suit he had worn 
to the dance and into his 1982 clothes, pulling some Army fatigues and 
a jacket over them. The Army clothes were a little loose, but it didn't 
matter. Once he had the clothes on, Marty took the bottles of Coke he 
had brought with him in his bag and stuffed them deep into the jacket's 
pockets. He looked in the dusty mirror, checking his appearance to make 
sure he looked okay and the Coke bottles weren't visible. They weren't. 
Marty quickly gathered up his things and left the stuffy restroom, 
joining up with the Professor just as the gas had finished.

EXT. GAS STATION

GAS ATTENDANT
Twenty six gallons, checking the readouts. That'll be $3.75.

Marty almost choked. Since when was gas so cheap? Before he had much 
time to reflect on that, Professor Brown paid the man and climbed into 
the truck. Marty had no choice but to follow and they continued towards 
the test site.

INT. TRUCK - MILITARY INSTALATION

Hours later, Professor Brown was driving the truck down a dirt road. At 
the end of it was a huge barbed wire fence, padlocked, with a huge 
sign. U.S. Army. Restricted Area. Authorized Personal Only. Their goal. 
The test site.

The Professor nudged a dozing Marty as they approached the gate and 
pulled to a stop. He had previously told Marty to leave the talking to 
him, and Marty had no problem with that. He certainly did not want to 
get them arrested. Almost as soon as they had stopped, an M.P. stepped 
up to the truck, a rifle in hand.

M.P.
Where do you jokers think you're going? he asked, peering into the cab.

The Professor picked up some papers -- their orders -- off the 
dashboard and handed them to the guy.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
We're here to deliver that refrigerator.

He pointed to the back. The M.P. glanced at it and shook his head. 

M.P.
Do you know where you are?

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
This is where they're gonna drop the bomb, right? Well, Philco wants to 
find out what it does to their refrigerator.

The M.P. strolled over to the back and used his gun to lift up a corner 
of the tarp and look under it.

M.P.
What's with the motorcycle?

Marty watched the Professor carefully, wondering how he would answer 
this one. As before, he had a logical answer.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
General Motors wants to find out what it does to their truck. The 
motorcycle is because we don't want to find out what it does to us.

The man glanced at the papers.

M.P.
Well, you better shake a leg. That bomb goes off in fifty-five minutes!

Professor Brown and Marty glanced at each other, relieved, then drove 
through the now-open gate. They had passed the first obstacle.
    

INT. MILITARY BUNKER

Colonel Nordell peered through binoculars at the barren desert from the 
artillery bunker. The bunker had a full communicational base in it, 
with 105mm Howitzers, ready for any last minute attacks. The desert 
appeared to be peaceful and deserted...then the Colonel saw the army 
truck speeding toward the test sight. He turned toward Lieutenant 
Glass, standing beside him.

COLONELL NORDELL
Lieutenant, what's that vehicle doing down there?

The lieutenant glanced up, looking unconcerned. Two guys delivering a 
refrigerator from Philco, sir.

COLONELL NORDELL
From Philco? (shaking his head) Jesus H. Christ! How many refrigerators 
do we have to blow up in this test?
    

EXT. NEVADA DESERT - 1.5 MILES FROM TEST SITE

Marty and the Professor reached the tract houses a few minutes after 
being allowed inside. This suburbian site was 1.5 miles from the blast 
site, according to a large sign nearby.

Professor Brown backed the truck into a driveway of a house where two 
mannequins were positioned on the front lawn. The man was set up with a 
lawn mower and the woman was in a chaise lounge. Marty looked at the 
bizzare spectacle for a moment, then jumped out of the truck to open 
the garage door for the Professor. He finished backing the truck inside 
and switched off the ignition.

It was hot outside already so Marty took off his jacket and tossed it 
inside the cab of the truck. He helped the Professor take the tarp off 
the back and start to hook the time machine up.
    

INT. DETONATION CONTROL ROOM

The clock read 11:30AM inside the detonation control room. The room 
bustled with activity as the time drew near for the blast.

TIMEKEEPER
Coming up on exactly 30 minutes to detonation. Lock all timing 
circuits...now.

TECHNITION
Mark!

He flipped a switch, starting four clocks counting down in sync.

SECOND TECHNITION
Check arming circuits!

The third technition looked at the board. Arming circuits are green.

MAJOR LANZA
Final evacuation check!

LIEUTENANT JONES
Roger!

EXT. NEVADA DESERT - 1.5 MILES FROM TEST SITE

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
There it is -- Ground Zero... and your target is 800 yards.

Professor Brown and Marty peered through binoculars at the side of the 
house. Behind them the time machine was ready for action, the power 
converter set up on the roof of the truck with the solar cell panel 
pointed toward the front of the vehicle.

MARTY
It was sure nice of Uncle Sam to put those yardage markers up for us. 
(noticing the markers at every 200 yards from the tower)

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
We're at one and a half miles, so you're just a little over a mile from 
where you want to be, (lowering his binoculars) Wait until minus 3 
minutes before you go -- that should give you plenty of time, and it 
should be close enough to zero hour that they can't do anything to stop 
you. Park the truck at 800 and get in the refri-- the time chamber. 
Just be sure the nose of the truck is pointed at the bomb....the power 
converter will do the rest.

Professor Brown headed into the garage again and Marty followed. The 
motorcycle was on the ground, with the mannequin who had been mowing 
the lawn in the side car passenger seat. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Here's a walkie-talkie, (handing Marty the object from inside the truck 
and pointing to the channel selector knob) I'll be on this frequency. 
(moving it up a few numbers) This one's the Army.

A voice from the control room came on, mixed with static.

VOICE
T minus 28 minutes, and counting.

The Professor checked the time.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
I'd better go! (holding his hand out towards the teenager) Good luck, 
Marty.

Marty shook his hand. 

MARTY
Thanks for everything, Pro.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Professor Brown grinned. I guess I'll see you in... about 30 years.

Marty swallowed hard, remembering the Professor being gunned down in 
the future. This was the last time he would see him alive. 

MARTY
Uh... yeah... I hope so.

The Professor gave him an intense look. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Is something wrong?

Marty shook his head, biting his lower lip as he tried to fight back 
the threat of tears. 

MARTY
It's just always so hard for me to say goodbye.

Marty turned suddenly and stepped outside, unable to stand looking at 
the Professor any longer. After a moment, Professor Brown spoke.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
 Marty, (sounding hesitant) I know I've repeatedly asked you not to 
tell me anything about the future, but....well, those loud bangs on the 
tape recorder....are they....

MARTY
Professor -- there are some doors that shouldn't be opened, Marty said 
softly, without turning around.

The Professor nodded slowly. In the background, the walkie-talkie 
spoke. 

VOICE
T minus 27 minutes.

Marty raised his binoculars again and looked at Ground Zero. The 
Professor watched him for a moment, then went over to the motorcycle. 
He stared at the mannequin, realizing that something was amiss. 
Professor Brown reached into the truck cab and pulled out Marty's Army 
jacket and placed it on the mannequin. Then he got on, started the 
engine, and drove away.

Marty continued to look through the binoculars, hardly aware of the 
Professor's departure.
    

INT. MILITARY BUNKER

Lieutenant Glass watched the desert from the artillery bunker through 
his own set of binoculars. He saw the motorcycle from the truck with 
the refrigerator speed away with the two men who had come with it 
inside. The Lieutenant turned to Colonel Nordell beside him.

LIEUTENANT GLASS
There go those two lovers who brought the refrigerator.

Colonel Nordell nodded. All right. He picked up a phone nearby. 
Evacuation is complete. This area is secure, he said into it.
    

EXT. NEVADA DESERT - 1.5 MILES FROM TEST SITE

When the Professor vanished from view as he sped away, Marty lowered 
his binoculars and checked the time. He had about 25 minutes left 
before the bomb would detonate and over 20 minutes to go before he had 
to start driving towards the site.

Marty decided now would be a good time to look around. He walked around 
to the front of the house, taking a moment to check out the yard and 
home's exterior. Except for the mannequins in the front, it looked 
pretty typical for a 1950's home. Marty walked across the grass and 
tried the door. It was unlocked. He stepped inside.

Marty was expecting the place to be empty. To his amazement, the inside 
was completely furnished. It looked like a model home, awaiting 
display. Current issues of popular -- in the 1950's, anyway -- 
magazines were on the tables. There was a radio, even a TV in the room. 
Marty looked in the dining room and saw another group of mannequins 
seated at the table, with place settings arranged before them. Marty 
shook his head, chuckling at the lengths that the government went with 
these experiments.

He went into the kitchen and looked around this room. It was completely 
furnished like the other rooms, down to the last detail. In one corner 
a Frigidaire refrigerator sat. Marty walked over to it and opened it 
up. It was well stocked with food. He saw meat, cheese, milk eggs, 
Coke, fruit, and vegetables. Marty plucked an apple from inside, took a 
bite from it, then set it back inside. He shut the fridge and retraced 
his steps back to the living room to check out the TV.

The TV was full of static and snow when he first switched it on. Marty 
twisted the channel knob, finally tuning into a somewhat muddy image of 
the Howdy Doody Show. Since it was the only thing he could get a 
reception on, Marty watched Clarabell dancing around and slowly shook 
his head.

MARTY
The 'fabulous fifties,'  

He was grateful that he wouldn't be stuck in that decade forever.
    

INT. DETONATION CONTROL ROOM

TIMEKEEPER
T-minus fourteen minutes.

The first technition nodded.

TECHNITION
Lock all arming circuits.

The task was completely quickly.

SECOND TECHNITION
Preliminary arming circuits locked.

The other two quickly followed.

THIRD TECHNITION
Main arming circuits locked.

FOURTH TECHNITION
Auxiliary arming circuits locked.

INT. MILITARY BUNKER

Inside the artillery bunker, Captain Teague began to pass out 
sunglasses to his troops and to the privileged civilian spectators.

CAPTAIN TEAGUE
You are here to witness one of the most spectacular sights in the 
history of man, he said. It is really quite beautiful. There will be an 
intense white fireball that will recede into a bright yellow glow, 
accompanied by an intense shock wave....
    

EXT. NEVADA DESERT

Professor Brown headed towards the gate on his motorcycle as the M.P. 
listened to the countdown on their radios.

VOICE
T-minus 7 minutes. 7 minutes until final detonation.

As the Professor got closer to the gate, one of the M.P.'s opened it 
and waved him through. Professor Brown waved back over his shoulder, 
not slowing the vehicle down in the least.
    

EXT. NEVADA DESERT - 1.5 MILES FROM TEST SITE

Marty started to take off his army fatigues as he watched the TV. Under 
the clothes was the outfit he had come with from 1982. As soon as he 
had shed the clothes from the Army, he switched the walkie-talkie on to 
check the time before the bomb would go off.

VOICE
T-minus 6 minutes and counting...
    

EXT. NEVADA DESERT

Professor Brown continued the high speed on his motorcycle down a dirt 
road, then up a hill and into the mountains. Finally, when the ground 
leveled off, he cut the engine and stopped the motorcycle. The 
Professor reached for the binoculars around his neck as he got off the 
bike and walked to the edge of a cliff. He peered at the test sight 
with it's tract homes and the tower where the nuclear bomb sat.

Professor Brown grabbed his walkie-talkie and listened to the control 
voice. 

VOICE
...5 minutes and counting...

He switched channels to the one Marty was on. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Calling Marty! (into the walkie-talkie) Do you read me?

There was a long pause, during which static played with the radio. Then 
cut to: 

MARTY
I read you, Pro.

Cut to:

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Is everything set? Have you put the formula in the power converter?

Cut to:

MARTY
I'm on my way to do that right now.
    
Marty brought the walkie-talkie with him as he went into the garage and 
opened the door into the cab to get his jacket with the bottles of Coke 
in it. But it wasn't there!
Marty blinked, shocked, and checked the floor and behind the seats. 
Nothing. He started to panic. Marty climbed into the back of the truck 
and checked there, even though the chances were very slim that it could 
have gotten there. It wasn't.
 Marty snatched the walkie-talkie off the front seat where he had set 
it.

MARTY
Professor! (panicing and fearful) I can't find the formula! I left it 
in my jacket, and my jacket's gone!
    
Cut to:

Professor Brown heard Marty's news and turned to look at the motorcycle 
behind him. There was Marty's jacket, still on the mannequin where he 
had inadvertently set it earlier.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Oh my God!


INT. DETONATION CONTROL ROOM

Detonation Control was getting busier and busier as the time for the 
bomb to go off drew closer and closer.

TIMEKEEPER
T-minutes 3 minutes, 30 seconds...

TECHNITION
Released safety switches! First Safety.

The second technition flipped the switch before him. 

SECOND TECHNITION
First safety released.

THIRD TECHNITION
First safety released!
    

EXT. NEVADA DESERT

Professor Brown was horrified at the turn of events that had suddenly 
sprouted. He frantically called out instructions to Marty over the 
walkie-talkie.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Marty, it's over. Do you understand? It's over. Now I want you to get 
in the refrig-- the time chamber, and we'll just pray that the lead 
lining --

MARTY (over walkie-talkie)
The refrigerator! Hang on, Professor!

Professor Brown stared at the walkie-talkie, wondering what was going 
on.

EXT. NEVADA DESERT - 1.5 MILES FROM TEST SITE    

Marty ran into the house and straight to the kitchen. He yanked open 
the refrigerator and his eyes fell on those bottles of Coke he had seen 
earlier. Marty let out a deep sigh of relief, though he knew the ordeal 
was far from over. He'd had serious visions of his tombstone there for 
a few minutes.

MARTY
Don't worry about a thing! (into the walkie-talkie) There's plenty of 
formula in the refrigerator!

EXT. NEVADA DESERT

On the hill the Professor was confused. The refrigerator? he said to 
himself. His eyes slid over to Marty's jacket in the motorcycle, 
considering... After a moment, Professor Brown switched the frequency 
on the walkie-talkie to get an update on the time.

VOICE
T-minutes 2 minutes, 50 seconds.
    

EXT. NEVADA DESERT - 1.5 MILES FROM TEST SITE 

Marty pulled himself up on top of the truck's cab to get to the power 
converter, juggling the two bottles of Coke he had brought with him 
from the refrigerator. Without thinking, Marty tried to twist the cap 
off the bottle, but it wouldn't budge! He didn't have a bottle opener 
with him either.
Aware of the time ticking down, Marty finally smashed the neck of the 
bottle against the roof of the cab and poured the Coke -- along with a 
few pieces of broken glass -- into the power converter.

INT. DETONATION CONTROL ROOM

TIMEKEEPER
T minus 2 minutes...

TECHNITION
Release second safely!

SECOND TECHNITION
Second safety released!

The switch was flipped.

THIRD TECHNITION
Second safety released!
    

EXT. NEVADA DESERT - 1.5 MILES FROM TEST SITE 

Marty climbed down from the roof off the truck and got inside the cab. 
It started without his hitch and he slammed his foot against the 
accelerator, heading in the direction of Ground Zero.
    

INT. MILITARY BUNKER

Colonel Nordell watched the bomb site with his binoculars from the 
artillery bunker. It was deserted as it should be. He was about to turn 
away, when a flash of movement caught his eye. He couldn't believe it 
when he saw the truck racing towards the site of the bomb.

COLONEL NORDELL
Jesus! What's that truck doing out there?

Captain Teague and Lieutenant Glass turned to look through their 
binoculars. 

CAPTAIN TEAGUE
He's heading straight for the bomb!

LIEUTENANT GLASS
He's gotta be a Commie spy -- trying to sabotage the test!

COLONEL NORDELL
Captain! Get your men on this artillery and blow that truck to Kingdom 
Come!

Captain Teague nodded curtly and turned to his crew. 

CAPTAIN TEAGUE
Men, get on this artillery and blow that truck to Kingdom Come! Fire 
mission! Let's move!

The military men made a dash for the 105mm Howitzer.

INT. TRUCK - EN ROUTE TO GROUND ZERO

Marty drove the truck past mile marker 1.3, unaware of the eminent 
danger. Gun breeches were opened with 105mm shells being loaded inside 
the artillery bunker. The weapons were slammed shut and cranked around 
towards the outside and the truck.

INT. ARTILERY BUNKER

SARGENT GUNTHER
Captain! Give us some coordinates!

CAPTAIN TEAGUE
(shaking his head) I don't have any! We'll have to fire direct!

INT. TRUCK - EN ROUTE TO GROUND ZERO

Marty drove by the 1 mile mark as the three Howitzers were pointed in 
his vague direction. 

Cut to:

CAPTAIN TEAGUE
Fire! 

Cut back to:    

Something suddenly exploded a hundred feet to Marty's side, dirt 
raining down everywhere. Marty gripped the wheel tightly in his hands, 
his nerves strung out.

MARTY
Jesus!
    

INT. ARTILERY BUNKER

Meanwhile, Captain Teague was shouting more instructions at his men. 
Having seen the first blast with his binoculars, he now had a better 
idea where to fire. 

CAPTAIN TEAGUE
Drop 5 elevation, add 8 deflection!

Another weapon was adjusted to the position and fired.

 
INT. TRUCK - EN ROUTE TO GROUND ZERO

Marty had managed to calm himself down after the first explosion. He'd 
hardly began to breathe normally again when something else exploded, 
this one a lot closer in front of the truck, but still off to the side. 
Marty twisted the wheel to the side, terrified of being blow up, hardly 
noticing the 1400 yards marker as he drove by it.

EXT. NEVADA DESERT

On the hill, Professor Brown could see the whole thing through his 
binoculars. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Oh my God! he cried, feeling helpless to do anything.
    

INT. DETONATION CONTROL ROOM

TIMEKEEPER
One minute, fifteen seconds!

TECHNITION
Release final safety.

SECOND TECHNITION
 Final safety released!

The third technition flipped the switch.

THIRD TECHNITION
Final safety released!

INT. ARTILERY BUNKER

In the artillery bunker, Sergeant Gunther realigned the Howitzer, to a 
new position. 

SERGEANT GUNTHER
Drop 2 elevation, minus 3 deflection.
    

INT. TRUCK - EN ROUTE TO GROUND ZERO

The new shell hit the ground several yards before the truck, sending a 
heavy rain of dirt on the windshield. Marty drove around the hole and 
looked behind him, shuddering as he realized how close that one had 
come. Up ahead was his goal, the 800 yard maker. Marty slammed the 
truck to a stop and turned to the Army channel on the walkie-talkie.

VOICE
Exactly one minute till detonation! the voice said. 59....58....
    

INT. ARTILERY BUNKER

COLONEL NORDELL
(lowering his binoculars and turning to Captain Teague) He's stopped, 
Captain! Right at the 800 yard marker!

Captain Teague smiled tightly.

CAPTAIN TEAGUE
We'll get him for sure this time! Add 1 and a half elevation! he added 
to his men.
    

INT. TRUCK - STOPPED

Inside the truck, Marty listened to the countdown, his heart pounding 
with exhilaration and fear. 

VOICE
...53...52....

MARTY
Hurry up! 

He threw open the door of the truck to the outside.    

EXT. NEVADA DESERT

Professor Brown continued to watch the truck with Marty in it, his 
walkie- talkie in the other hand. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Move the truck!  They're gonna draw a bead on you!

The truck did not move.
    

INT. ARTILERY BUNKER

Sergeant Gunther finished the adjustments on his weapon. 

SERGEANT GUNTHER
I've got a bead on him!
    

EXT. TRUCK - STOPPED

Marty was about to climb in the back of the truck, the countdown still 
on his walkie-talkie. 

VOICE
..47...46...

Marty let out an impatient sigh and decided to report in to the 
Professor. He flipped the channel, but before he could say anything, he 
heard Professor Brown was yelling at him over the airwaves.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN (over walkie-talkie)
Back up! Back up!  (frantic) They're drawing a bead on you! Back up!

Marty froze for a moment, then took off for the cab of the truck as 
fast as he could, expecting to be hit by some weapon any second.

INT. ARTILERY BUNKER    

CAPTAIN TEAGUE
FIRE!

Sergeant Gunther pulled the trigger and the cannon let out a noise that 
shook the ground.
    

INT. TRUCK

Marty turned the key in the ignition of the truck, threw the stick 
shift into reverse, and hit the gas pedal as hard as he could.

A second later, a huge explosion wiped out the 800 yard marker where he 
had been parked. The truck trembled from the shock wave. Marty stopped 
the truck several hundred feet away and watched the smoke clear. A huge 
crater in the ground was all that remained of yard marker 800, where he 
had been seconds before. He swallowed hard.    

INT. DETONATION CONTROL ROOM

TIMEKEEPER
T-minus 30 seconds! the voice from detonation control said.

Colonel Nordell turned away from the window before the smoke cleared on 
the last explosion. 

COLONEL NORDELL
Everybody into the bunker! Take cover! Now!

There was a mad dash as the men all left their posts and headed for the 
stairs that lead to the underground bomb shelter. The truck was 
forgotten.
    

INT. TRUCK

Marty could hear the voice start counting down the remaining thirty 
seconds before the bomb would go off. He turned the key in the 
ignition, but the engine wouldn't start! His face grew even paler then 
it was already as he tried it again. Still, nothing happened!

VOICE
 ....24....23....22... 

EXT. NEVADA DESERT

Up on the hill, Professor Brown kept his binoculars trained on Marty's 
truck.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Come on, Marty! (unaware that Marty was having any problems) Come on!

VOICE
 ....20...19....18...

INT. TRUCK

Marty swallowed hard, gripping the key as hard as he could and turning 
it for the third time. The engine groaned....but then it caught! He 
sighed in relief and aimed at the crater, over a hundred yards away.

VOICE
 ...14...13...12...

Marty grabbed the walkie-talkie and leaned over it, wedging it against 
the accelerator. The truck started moving and he threw opened the door, 
jumping to the ground. The truck picked up speed as Marty ran to the 
back, grabbing hold of the sides of the vehicle and pulling himself 
inside. He threw the switches on the time machine, turning it on and 
preparing it for the trip back... he hoped.

It could have been his imagination, but Marty swore he could still hear 
the timekeeper over the roar of everything.

VOICE
...9...8...7...

The truck pitched forward into the gaping hole left from the Howitzer 
shell. Marty lost his balance, unprepared for the jolt, and fell into 
the bed of the truck. His head struck the metal floor, which left him 
slightly dazed for a second. He realized that the truck had gotten 
slightly off center with where the solar cell that was positioned just 
so as it had fallen and quickly climbed to his feet to jerk the cells 
back where they belonged.

VOICE
...5...4...3...

 Marty threw open the door of the refrigerator -- or time chamber -- 
and stepped inside.

VOICE
...2...1...

 He slammed the door shut.
    

INT. DETONATION CONTROL ROOM

TIMEKEEPER
Detonate!

Three technitions, turned their keys at the same time, setting off an 
incredible white fireball that made the surroundings invisible with 
light for a moment before dimming to a glow of softer yellow.
    

EXT. TIME MACHINE/REFRIDGERATOR

The bright white light hit the power converter. Marty glanced up inside 
his cramped quarters to see a thin beam of the same color hit him from 
the focusing lense suspended above his head. He closed his eyes as a 
strange feeling swept over his body....    

The yellow glow from the bomb lasted a few moments, turning everything 
yellow. The tower which housed the bomb was vaporized and the truck of 
Marty and the Professor's began to melt from the intense heat. Inside 
the command bunker, the Army officers with their men and the chosen 
civilians gaped at the site before them as the mushroom cloud formed, 
it's radioactive smoke reaching thousands of feet into the atmosphere.

EXT. NEVADA DESERT - HILL

Safely on the hill, Professor Brown turned his back on the site and 
over to the mannequin in the sidecar. A medium sized bulge rested in 
one of the pockets of the Army jacket. The Professor looked at it a 
long moment, long after the light of the bomb faded and the shock wave 
had passed. He remembered Marty's words from earlier and wondered: 
Should I look....?

INT. TIME MACHINE

Marty saw completely and utter darkness around him. The air around him 
had grow hot and stuffy. He resisted the urge to cough and felt for the 
handle of the refrigerator door. His hand came into contact with it 
after a moment's search and he pushed forward.

EXT. NEVADA DESERT - 1982

A crack of sunlight split the darkness. Marty pushed the door harder 
and a shower of sand rained on him. He climbed to the outside world. 
The sun was shining brightly in a clear blue sky. Marty looked down at 
the refrigerator and saw that it was half rotted and worn away with 
age. Next to it, he recognized the remains of the Army truck, twisted 
and almost unrecognizable, half buried in the sand.

Marty took a step away from the refrigerator and looked around him. It 
was barren out here. He saw nothing but an ocean of hot sand all 
around. Marty glanced at his watch. It was noon exactly. He squinted up 
at the merciless glare of the sun.

MARTY
Shit!

Marty decided the best thing for him to do would be to start walking. 
He set off in the direction of the sun, not sure which way to head. A 
few minutes after he started the hike, Marty started to hear a low hum 
off in the distance. It sounded like a helicopter.

The sound grew closer and he looked up at the sky, his eyes searching 
for the source. He saw something in the sky, but it looked strange. The 
craft started to lower itself toward the ground, grains of sand flying 
everywhere. Marty squinted his eyes and put a hand over them, turning 
his head away. Between the glare of the sun on the thing, and all the 
flying sand, it was almost impossible to tell anything about it.

After a moment, the noise faded away and Marty turned around. Right in 
front of him was a strange sight. It looked like a car from the 
1950's....but it had three whitewalls, propellers, and funny fins on 
the side. At the back of the car was something that resembled the 
Professor's power converter. As Marty stared at the contraption, he 
noticed Professor Brown in the driver's seat.

Marty opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The 
Professor opened the door and jumped out, heading towards Marty. He 
looked older then he had in 1952, but not as much as he had in 1982. 
Professor Brown seemed different to Marty, his posture straighter with 
more of a spark in his eyes.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Marty! You're here! Right on time! How are you? Feeling okay?

Marty tried to speak again.

MARTY
(hesitantly) What year is this? 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
(beaming) 1982! March 18, just like we planned! My calculations were 
absolutely correct! Thirty years! God, I cannot believe it's been 
thirty years! Sure, it was a long time ago -- longest I've ever had to 
wait for the results of an experiment!

Marty was confused. 

MARTY
And you're alive, Professor? (remembering what happened right before he 
left 1982) You weren't shot?

Professor Brown looked at him blankly.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Shot? Who'd want to shoot me? I've never felt better in my life!

Marty didn't know what to say about that. He continued to stare at the 
flying vehicle and at the Professor. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Hop in, Marty, (turning and heading for the vehicle). We've got a long 
drive ahead of us.

MARTY
What do you call this? (as he cautiously started towards the 
contraption)

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
A car.

Marty watched as Professor Brown opened the door and got inside. He 
slowly followed suit.

INT. CAR

Inside the car, Marty noticed the controls and the dashboard were 
streamlined in a kind of old-fashioned futuristic style. He was 
distracted from his examination of the car's interior by the Professor 
leaning over and pulling out a 16 ounce bottle of Coke. He grabbed a 
bottle opener that was on the dashboard and opened it up, then pulled 
open the dashboard in front of Marty and hooked the bottle to a funnel 
labeled fuel inside. Marty remembered leaving the formula in his 
jacket. Somehow, Professor Brown must have found it.

MARTY
Professor... You peaked, didn't you?

Professor Brown shrugged, looking a little sheepish.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Yeah. I figured, what the hell!

A moment later he lifted the car up from the sand and flew them away 
from the old nuclear test site.
    
Professor Brown waited a few minutes before starting to answer some of 
the questions Marty had begun to throw at him. Marty wanted to know 
everything that had happened over the past thirty years to the 
Professor. Things seemed so different from when he had left.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
You see, I never rebuilt the time machine after it was destroyed in 
1952. I decided that experimenting with time and possibly changing 
history was too risky. Anyway, experiments in time travel were banned 
in all 87 states after the governor of Cuba caught Dr. Felstien fooling 
around in the Bermuda Triangle -- that was back in '64.

MARTY
87 states? Time travel bans? What the hell?

Marty didn't understand anything. He tried not to think about that part 
of the conversation. There were some other, more important things to 
wonder about.

MARTY
But if you didn't rebuild the time machine, how did I go back in time 
in the first place?

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
According to your girlfriend, Suzy Parker, you and she were at the 
movies. You went to the restroom and you never came out. Obviously, you 
stepped through an inter-dimensional time warp, created by the original 
operation of the time machine.

Most of this was still going over Marty's head. 

MARTY
Obviously!  (trying to appear that he understood.)

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
But I told everyone your disappearance was due to a teleportation 
experiment you were helping me with. So don't mention anything about 
time travel to anyone.

MARTY
(nodding) What theater was I at?

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
The Orpheum.

Marty smiled, some of this finally clicking into place. He looked out 
the window and saw, far below, a clean and more of that old-fashioned 
modern look on a city. It had streamlined skyscrapers and even some 
flying cars. Marty couldn't believe it.

MARTY
Wow! Look at that city!

Professor Brown glanced out the window. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Pretty, isn't it?

MARTY
It's the most beautiful city I've ever seen! What is it?

The Professor smiled at him. 

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
Cleveland.

EXT. McFLY HOUSE    

It was night when they reached Marty's house. It was the same one he 
had left, but it looked different. On closer inspection, Marty noticed 
the corners were more rounded, almost streamlined, and a large power 
converter sat on the roof next to the chimney. The Professor landed his 
car next to another one in the driveway that had all the elaborate 
propellers and stuff on it too. Marty guessed that this was considered 
the norm here.

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
 Go on in, (noticing Marty's hesitation) I'll be with you as soon as I 
adjust this blasted flow capacitor.

As Marty got out of the car, he noticed more flying cars, busses, even 
trucks in the air above his home. He shook his head and turned his 
attention back to his house. He stared at it a long moment and took a 
deep breath before walking to the front door. Marty rang the doorbell, 
unsure if he should just barge in. With all the changes he had seen so 
far, he wasn't sure if it would be a good idea.

The door was answered a minute later, but not by who he had expected. A 
robot, looking vaguely like the one Marty had seen on Professor Brown's 
blueprints that one night, pulled the door open. It was only about 
three or four feet high, with a little bow tie on.

ROBOT
Greetings, Master Martin. Let me take your coat.

Marty stared at the thing for a moment. 

MARTY
Right.... 

He slowly took off his silver Porsche jacket and handed it to the 
robot. Finally, he stepped into his house.

INT. McFLY HOUSE

Marty was surprised. Things actually didn't look that different from 
when he had left. His mother, sitting in the living room, jumped to her 
feet and rushed towards him.

EILEEN
Marty! You're back! I'm so glad to see you!

Eileen McFly gave her son a hug, then seemed to notice his clothes. She 
looked at Marty, a faint smile on her face.

EILEEN
Where did you get these silly clothes?

Without waiting for an answer, she turned to the robot. 

EILEEN
Sparky, get Marty some clean clothes.

ROBOT
Yes, Madam.

Marty watched him turning and heading out of the room, as his mother 
spoke again.

EILEEN
Your father's in the study. Say hello to him.

He nodded and walked down the hall. Marty stopped halfway to the study, 
suddenly noticing several display cases hanging on the hallway wall. In 
one there was a pair of boxing gloves with a plaque: McFly-Liston 
Fight, Madison Square Garden, 1966. In the case next to that was a 
silver boxing champion's belt with George M. McFly, World Middleweight 
Champion, 1963. In the last one was a framed magazine ad with a picture 
of George McFly holding a weird device with the words: The Champ gives 
tooth decay the One-Two Punch with Son-O-Dent ultra sonic tooth care 
system, by E. Brown Enterprises, under the photo.

Marty was surprised and a little shocked on all that had happened since 
he had left. 

George McFly looked up from his desk as Marty entered his study. 

GEORGE
Welcome home, son! 

His voice sounded a little different to Marty's ears. More confident 
and forceful, not nearly as meek, like it had been before. 

GEORGE
The Professor told us what happened with the experiment -- that there 
might be some side effects... lapses of memory.

Marty edged closer to the desk to get a better look at this new George 
McFly. He, like the Professor, seemed different -- for the better, but 
still different. Dad didn't seem to notice his scrutiny. He continued 
talking.

GEORGE
Your mom's got one heckuva dinner planned tonight! She's been pushing 
buttons all day!

Marty nodded as if he understood, and as he did so, he noticed a 
familiar looking figure outside the window. His eyes narrowed and Marty 
realized it was Biff, wearing a security guard uniform and in a chaise 
lounge, appearing to be asleep. Marty's father followed his gaze and 
opened the window.

GEORGE
Hey, Biff! What are you doing, sleeping on the job? A security guard's 
supposed to be alert!

Biff smiled and sat up. 

BIFF
Yes, sir, Mr. McFly!

GEORGE
What am I paying you fifty cents an hour for? 

BIFF
I'm sorry, Champ, (getting to his feet) It won't happen again, sir.

He began to walk around the yard.

George closed the window and sat back down at his desk. Marty watched 
as he attached a suction cup that was connected by wire to something 
that looked like a pen on his forehead. He waved the pen over a blank 
check and with a few electronic beeps, handwriting appeared on the 
paper, spelling out, Pay to the order of the Coca Cola Company.

MARTY
What are you doing, Dad? 

Marty watched, eyes wide in amazement.

His father glanced up, puzzled. 

GEORGE
What's it look like I'm doing, son? I'm paying the fuel bill. It's over 
$2.00 this month -- we really oughta try to cut down.

Marty continued to watch his father. George looked a little concerned.

GEORGE
What's wrong, son? You act like you've never seen a Write-O-Matic 
before.

Marty pulled out his Bic pen from his pocket and looked at it, shaking 
his head.

GEORGE
Say, what have you got there? (noticing the pen for the first time) An 
antique pen? Let me see that! He took it from Marty and examined it 
carefully. I haven't seen one of these in....well, this is strange. How 
do you fill it with ink?

Marty's father flashed him a strange look, which made Marty feel 
slightly uneasy. He looked like he wanted to say something, but before 
he did, someone knocked on the door. A second later, Eileen came into 
the room.

EILEEN
Marty, there's someone here to see you.

Suzy Parker came into the room. She was wearing some strange clothes, 
with her hair styled in a different, unusual way, but Marty didn't 
care. 

MARTY
Suzy!

SUZY
Hi, Marty!

MARTY
What did you do to your hair?

SUZY
What did you do to yours?

Marty and Suzy both laughed as Professor Brown slipped into the room. 

GEORGE
Hey, how's my favorite girl?

She smiled.

SUZY
Fine, Mr. McFly.

GEORGE
Why don't you two get out of here -- I'm sure you can find something 
better to do than watch me pay bills! 

Suzy looked at her boyfriend critically.

SUZY
Marty, you'd better change your clothes. You can't go to Mambo Class 
looking like that.

Marty stared at her blankly.

MARTY
Mambo class? You mean people still do the Mambo?

Suzy shrugged. 

SUZY
Sure. Everybody does the Mambo!

Marty thought about that for a moment, wondering something important. 

MARTY
Don't tell me you've never heard of rock'n roll...

Suzy now directed a blank look at him.

SUZY
Rock and what?

PROFESSOR EMMETT BROWN
I've never heard of it either.

Marty gave a big grin.

MARTY
Well maybe it's time you did!

He took Suzy's hand and the two of them left the room, Eileen and 
Professor Brown following.    

George McFly was left alone in his study, sitting at his desk. 
Something about the conversation earlier with his son was gnawing at 
him. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out his hydraulic scrapbook. 
After he plugged it in, the pneumatic cylinders began to turn the pages 
automatically. It stopped at a certain page and George looked at the 
newspaper clipping he had saved in there, way back thirty years ago.

Police Quell Near Riot At School Dance, the headlined said. It was that 
old Springtime in Paris dance the article was talking about. Beneath 
the headline was a somewhat grainy photograph of the young man on stage 
who had played that strange music. As George looked closer, he saw that 
the young man in the picture bore a striking resemblance to his son.
George shook his head slowly.

GEORGE
Nah. Couldn't be....

FADE TO BLACK

THE END



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