"Hey, Butthead." Biff appeared out of nowhere. "You think that stupid disguise could get by me? Let's have it out. You and me, right now."

Marty turn away, "No thanks." He began walking away.

"What's the matter?" spewed Biff. "Where're you going? Are you chicken?" Marty froze as Biff continued, "That's it, isn't it. Nothing but a little chicken."

Marty slowly turned and stepped back toward Biff. "NObody," he began in quiet, dangerous fury, "calls me chick--". The door suddenly opened, body-slamming him. Memories of Biff saying things flashed through Marty as he struggled to keep his balance. "Say hello to your grandma for me." "No, I couldn't do that to her. Not again." *

"Before you pulverize me," said Marty. "Suppose someone attacked Lorraine as you did. What would you do?"

"I would pulverize him, as you put it. A hell of a lot more than McFly's left-hand hook. I don't blame him. I'm proud of him, I must say."

Marty was turning indecisive as Biff spoke, and finally decided. "Also, Biff, please be very careful with that sports book. You don't want the law or secret agent men in black after you." Technically, Marty wasn't lying, he told himself, wondering why the heck Biff never attracted such attention before.

"How the hell do you know about that book?" asked Biff.

"I'm supposed to get it away from you. Doc's gonna kill me for letting you keep it -- if you don't kill me first. Just be careful and sparing with betting -- even lose a few bets from time to time. You can still make far more than $300, and far more than enough for a new car."

"You are right. Yes, thank you, I'll be careful." Biff and Marty shook hands and Marty turned and departed.

Marty dashed up the staircase to the rooftop, where Doc was waiting with the DeLorean.

"Did you get the book?" asked Doc.

"Afraid not," answered Marty, steeling himself for Doc's rebuke. Thunder roared from the approaching storm. "Biff caught me, and was all ready to pound me. I think I got through to him about the danger of the book -- definitely more than with you about the Libyans." How would Doc react, with Marty twisting that dagger? Well, he'd find out.

Doc froze. "Very well," said Doc slowly and somberly. "We return to 1985 and assess the consequences."

"And please," Marty said. "Let's return before sunrise, the day you shot in to take us to the future, the morning after I returned at the clock tower. I don't want to be absent from the world that entire day."

"As you wish."

They entered the DeLorean. Doc punched in the destination date and time, and activated the time circuits. They rose, and shot forward, reversing-thrusting to a stop when the sky turned to twilight. Doc landed on the road and switched to the internal combustion engine.

"Are we back?" asked Marty as he glanced around. Behind him was the familiar used and graffiti-covered school building. He recalled Mr. Strickland saying that the school had burned down, and exclaimed, "The school's back!" Marty had never been happier to see the school.

He pulled out the sheet of newspaper. The headline now read, `Local Author Honored'. "Doc! Dad's alive now!"

"Great!" Doc fumbled around for his news sheet. 'Emmett Brown Commended' read the top line. "Mission Accomplished!"

"Um, Doc? I just realized that I'm starving. I can't even remember when I last ate, other than that bottle of Pepsi."

"Excellent idea," replied Doc.

"How about the Burger King next to your house. We could also clean your house while waiting for you to take Jennifer and me to the future." And that's what they did.

They departed, aiming to reach Marty's house a few minutes after the other DeLorean departed for the future. They were driving past a residential entrance advertising, "Hilldale, the Address of Success." Marty glanced down the street entering the fancy expensive neighborhood.

Three sonic booms sounded, followed by an aircraft shooting across the street a couple blocks away. "Shit!" exclaimed Marty. "That plane's gonna crash!"

"Great Scott, that was the DeLorean!" replied Doc, as Marty noted the lack of sounds of a collision. "What's it doing here?" He swerved onto the entrance road to the neighborhood.

Doc pulled over to the side of the road, at the intersection the with the road the flying car had flown along. Marty looked to the right. The other DeLorean had entered the driveway of one of the fancy houses about a block and a half away, and Doc was jabbering with another Marty and Jennifer.

The three of them entered the DeLorean, which rose up, turned around and shot toward them, vanishing in trails of flames directly over them.

"Wow," said Marty. "We actually live here?"

"Let's wait a few minutes," said Doc, "and then go to your house and see what changed."

"Doc," began Marty as they waited. "That made no sense back then. You brought Jennifer along because she saw the DeLorean -- `I couldn't leave her with that information.' Yet you arrived and departed to attract the attention of the entire neighborhood." Marty also wondered what really motivated Doc and him to leave 1985 for 1955, in this situation. It was just too confusing, and Doc's explanation wouldn't help -- even if Doc knew himself. He didn't ask.

Doc turned right and slowly drove, crossing an intersection and stopping car at the curb. "You might want to go to your house and find out what's up. I'll wait here. Don't hurry."

Marty crossed the street, and nervously walked down the sidewalk toward his apparent house. The truck from Biff's Automotive Detailing was still there, as was Dad's BMW. He wondered what he would find this time. Hopefully, this really was his house. Of course it was, he realized. He'd seen himself and Jennifer only a few minutes earlier.

He walked up the walkway and up the steps to the door, and paused before entering this fancy house.

As he walked up the flight of stairs to the living room, he heard Biff -- Biff?! -- call out, "Linda, your friend Greg called."

"Thanks, Daddy-Biff," replied Linda from a distance. "I'll get back to him prompto." Daddy-Biff?! As soon as his head got above the living room floor, he saw Mom cosily sandwiched -- almost squashed, even -- between Dad and Biff on the love-seat. The affection Mom had with both was transparently obvious.

"Marty, weren't you out driving the new car?" asked Dad.

"Oh yes, of course," replied Marty. "I was about to, but something came up. I'll be off now." He turned around, and descended to the front door, wondering not only how Biff came to be part of the family, but what he was supposed to call him. It didn't seem right to call him `Biff'. Maybe eventually, he'd remember.

Marty carefully backed out of the garage and driveway, and turned down the street where Doc waited with the DeLorean.

"Doc!" called out Marty through the open window, as Doc lifted up his door. "Am I needed any more now? I want to take this new truck for a spin."

"No, everything appears fine. If you find anything untoward, you'll find me back in the lab. Oh, and please drive safely, please."

That last sounded a bit strange, coming from Doc. But Marty appreciated the sentiment. "Yeah, of course. I'll be sure to awaken Jennifer as soon as we drop her off at her house -- um, the other we, that is."

Marty drove and turned toward the roadway at the edge of the neighborhood. He turned right, stopping at the red light.

Another big car screeched to a stop next to him. Needles was driving, with several friends. He greeted Marty with, "The Big M! How's it hanging, McFly?"

"Hey, Needles!" replied Marty.

"Nice set of wheels! Let's see what she can do, next green light."

"No thanks."

"What's the matter, chicken?" mocked Needles.

"NObody calls me CHICKen!" Outrage flowed through Marty. "You're on!" Both Marty and Needles gunned their engines, ready to shoot through.

The light turned green. Marty and Needles shot forward, accelerators floored. They approached 60 mph, with Needles half a car ahead. Marty imagined reaching 88 mph, and shooting to another time, when a fancy white car emerged from a cross street just in front of them. Needles swerved to the left, and Marty tried swerving right but skidded and slammed into the Rolls Royce.

Sirens approached.

* I've implied a couple changes earlier in BttF2 -- changes that I omit from this alternate ending. First, when considering the old geezer's warning about a scientist or a boy asking about the almanac, Biff finally concludes that he couldn't do that to Lorraine -- not again.

Second, Marty fails to grab the almanac or knock out Biff just after George decks Biff.