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© 2001-2019
GrandmasterA

 
Dies ist eine der ersten Versionen des Filmes Zurück in die Zukunft von Robert Zemeckis und Bob Gale vom 11. März 1980. Diese Version unterscheidet sich noch massgeblich von der endgültigen Filmfassung. Sehr interessant...
Wenn Dir die Online-Version zu lang ist, kannst Du Dir das Script auch als PDF downloaden (278 KB)
Zum Darstellen benötigst Du den Acrobat Reader.

Text ins Deutsche übersetzen (Übersetzung per Translation-Roboter! Ungereimtheiten möglich!)

BACK TO THE FUTURE

Screenplay by Robert Zemeckis & Bob Gale

March 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!

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...

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.


Astrokrebs03

Astrokrebs03 (2019)
zuletzt online: 08.11.2010



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