The DeLorean cut through the storm like a silver blade, lightning crackling in the night sky.
Inside, Marty braced himself, déjà vu overwhelming him. He knew this time and place.
The music on the radio, the air buzzing with anticipation, the town alive with prom energy... it was November 12th, 1955.
The very night he had already lived through, when George McFly had finally stood up to Biff and kissed Lorraine at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance.
But this time, Marty wasn't here to fall in love or secure his own existence.
He was here to stop a crime that hadn't yet happened... the moment Old Biff delivered the sports almanac to his younger self.
Doc parked the DeLorean in the hills above town, binoculars in hand.
Below them, Hill Valley shimmered in its mid-century charm... movie theaters glowing, streetlamps humming, couples strolling in their Sunday best.
It was surreal, almost comforting, until Doc reminded him. "We can't interfere with the events you've already lived through. Your other self is down there somewhere, playing out everything that happened the first time. If the two of you meet, it could be catastrophic."
Marty nodded nervously.
Great. So not only does he have to stop Biff, he's got to dodge his own self while he's at it.
-------------
They tracked Biff's movements carefully. Old Biff had returned earlier that afternoon, slipping the almanac into the hands of his younger self... the brash teenage bully Marty knew all too well.
Now that 1955 Biff held the book, every sports score for the next fifty years was his for the taking.
Marty's mission was clear... get that book back before Biff could use it.
He tailed Biff through the streets, ducking behind cars, trash cans, and storefronts. Biff strutted with his usual arrogance, the almanac tucked in his pocket.
Marty clenched his fists every time he saw him... memories of humiliation, bullying, and pain flooding back. But he had to focus.
This wasn't about revenge. It was about the future.
The chase carried him into the high school, where the Enchantment Under the Sea dance was in full swing.
Music floated through the air, saxophones and guitars mingling with the laughter of teenagers.
Marty slipped through the crowd, careful to avoid glimpses of himself onstage, where his other self was about to play "Johnny B. Goode."
The surreal overlap of memories made his head spin.
Biff, meanwhile, had tucked the almanac into his jacket and was swaggering toward the exit. Marty had one chance.
He grabbed a janitor's bucket and "accidentally" knocked it into Biff's path.
Water sloshed across the floor, and as Biff slipped, Marty lunged for the book.
But Biff was faster than he looked. He shoved Marty back, snarling, "What the hell do you think you're doing, McFly?"
Panic surged.
'He thinks I'm the other me.' Marty realized. 'He doesn't know there are two of us here.'
Biff stormed outside, still clutching the book. Marty chased him into the parking lot, where Biff climbed into his beloved '46 Ford.
Tires screeched as he peeled away. Marty, breathless, sprinted after him.
Up on the rooftop, Doc had seen everything.
He swooped low in the DeLorean, opening the gull-wing door. Marty jumped in, and together they gave chase.
The pursuit raged through the streets of 1955 Hill Valley. Doc's flying DeLorean hovered overhead while Marty clung to the roof of Biff's speeding car, struggling to pry open the door.
Wind roared in his ears, headlights streaked across the pavement, and adrenaline pumped like fire through his veins.
Inside the car, Biff fought like a cornered animal, swerving wildly to throw Marty off.
The almanac slid across the dashboard, tauntingly close. With one desperate lunge, Marty snatched it... only to realize too late it wasn't the almanac at all, but a girly magazine that Biff had hidden in the same cover.
"Looking for this?" Biff roared, waving the real almanac triumphantly before slamming Marty back against the windshield.
The car careened through the town, smashing into trash cans and scattering pedestrians.
Marty barely clung on, arms burning, as Biff swerved toward a tunnel.
The Ford roared into the darkness, headlights carving tunnels of shadow. Marty used the moment to climb onto the hood, inching toward the book.
Biff snarled and jerked the wheel, slamming Marty into the side rail.
Sparks flew.
Marty's grip slipped... until suddenly he was yanked upward.
Doc, leaning out of the hovering DeLorean, had caught him with a rope. They soared upward, leaving Biff howling below.
But Marty wasn't giving up. He dove back down, landing on the Ford's trunk. Using the rope, he swung himself into the back seat, grappling with Biff once more.
The almanac tumbled loose, sliding under the seat. Marty seized it, clutching the precious book to his chest.
Biff, enraged, tried one last desperate move. He floored the gas, roaring out of the tunnel... only to slam directly into a manure truck.
The vehicle burst open, dumping its foul load across Biff and his prized car.
Marty stumbled free, gasping, the almanac finally in his hands.
Triumph surged through him as he sprinted back to Doc.
"I've got it! I've got the almanac!" He shouted, waving the book.
Doc's eyes widened in relief. "Excellent! Now all we must do is destroy it... and restore the timeline!"
They retreated to the school rooftop, where Doc prepared to burn the book.
But before he could, lightning split the sky.
The storm had reached its peak...the same storm that had once sent the first DeLorean hurtling back to 1985.
Marty froze as he watched his other self race across the town square below, climbing into the time machine with 1955 Doc Brown.
It really was surreal... watching himself escape the past even as he fought to protect the future.
Doc raised his voice over the thunder. "Quickly, Marty! The almanac... burn it!"
Marty held the book high, struck a match, and touched the flame to its pages.
The fire caught quickly, curling the paper into ash. As it disintegrated, Marty's pocket buzzed.
He pulled out a newspaper clipping from the alternate 1985... one showing his father's murder and Biff's rise to power.
Before his eyes, the text shimmered and changed, replaced with headlines of George McFly alive and well.
The future was restored.
Marty exhaled in relief, laughing shakily. "We did it, Doc. We actually did it!"
But their victory was short-lived.
A violent gust ripped across the rooftop, and Marty turned just in time to see a bolt of lightning strike the DeLorean.
Sparks erupted. The machine spun wildly, engulfed in fire, and then... vanished.
Marty stumbled back, horrified. "Doc! Doc, where'd you go?!"
The storm raged on, but the rooftop was empty. The DeLorean was gone.
As Marty stood in stunned silence, headlights pierced the rain. A Western Union courier stepped out, soaked but determined, holding an envelope.
"You Marty McFly?" the man asked.
"Y-Yeah," Marty stammered.
"This letter's for you. Been instructed to deliver it exactly at this location, at this date and time. Been holding onto it for… seventy years."
Hands shaking, Marty opened the letter.
The handwriting was unmistakable... Doc's.
His words explained everything... he had been thrown back to 1885.
Marty's heart pounded. He looked out into the storm, the words echoing in his mind.
1885. The Old West. Doc's trapped in the past that's even older than normal. The very Old West.
There was no time to waste.
He stuffed the letter into his jacket, eyes blazing with determination. "Doc… I'm coming to get you."
And so Marty raced into the night—toward another time, another adventure, and the next chapter of their impossible journey.
But just as the audience expected to be in a journey to the past... that annoying thing just had to streak, pop up and say...
To Be Continued...