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Believe me, Marty, you’re better off not having to worry about all the aggravation and headaches of playing at that dance. Get your meat hooks off of me. My insurance, it’s your car, your insurance should pay for it. Hey, I wanna know who’s gonna pay for this? I spilled beer all over it when that car smashed into me. Who’s gonna pay my cleaning bill? Well, safe and sound, now, n good old 1955. Don’t tell me. Uh, you want me to buy a subscription to the Saturday Evening Post?
Tab? I can’t give you a tab unless you order something. What, well you mean like a date? How’s your head? Ho, you mean you’re gonna touch her on her- Let’s put him in there.
Oh, thank you, thank you. Okay now, we run some industrial strength electrical cable from the top of the clocktower down to spreading it over the street between two lamp posts. Meanwhile, we out-fitted the vehicle with this big pole and hook which runs directly into the flux-capacitor. At the calculated moment, you start off from down the street driving toward the cable execrating to eighty-eight miles per hour. According to the flyer, at !0:04 pm lightning will strike the clocktower sending one point twenty-one gigawatts into the flux-capacitor, sending you back to 1985. Alright now, watch this. You wind up the car and release it, I’ll simulate the lightening. Ready, set, release. Huhh. That’s George McFly? Hello. What did you say? Yet.