Marty, you’re acting like you haven’t seen me in a week. It’s uh, the other end of town, a block past Maple. I think it’s terrible. Girls chasing boys. When I was your age I never chased a boy, or called a boy, or sat in a parked car with a boy. Let’s put him in there. Einstein, hey Einstein, where’s the Doc, boy, huh? Doc
What a nightmare. Well, Marty, I’m almost eighteen-years-old, it’s not like I’ve never parked before. C’mon man, let’s do something that really cooks. Uh, no, no, no, no. What are you looking at, butt-head? Oh, uh, hey you, get your damn hands off her. Do you really think I oughta swear?
Wow, ah Red, you look great. Everything looks great. 1:24, I still got time. Oh my god. No, no not again, c’mon, c’mon. Hey. Libyans. Marty, such a nice name. I’m sure that in 1985, plutonium is available at every corner drug store, but in 1955, it’s a little hard to come by. Marty, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’re stuck here. Precisely. What, well you mean like a date?
Ah. Whoa. Shut your filthy mouth, I’m not that kind of girl. George, buddy. remember that girl I introduced you to, Lorraine. What are you writing? Right check, Doc. Because, you might regret it later in life.
