Author's note: Hey I'm back with the last movie in the trilogy! Though I promise there will be more stories about these lively characters as they journey through life, high school, marriage, and many other issues! But right now were in the old west! Or are going to be once I get them going! Enjoy!

"When was the last time he weighed himself?" Marty grunted as we carried him into my house.

"You know Doc has the number thing where he thinks if you have a thirteen at the end you have bad luck forever" I reminded Marty.

"But you still didn't have to get rid of all Doc's scales" Marty replied.

"Marty, he had every scale you could imagine! He even once asked the doctor's office if he could have their's" I said my voice getting higher.

"I still say he should lose my weight. It's like carrying a forty year old man!" Marty said as we plopped him on the couch.

"Maybe that's cause he is a forty year old man" I pointed out.

"Good point" Marty agreed as we sat down. We sat there for a while just looking at nothing.

"You know what I'm gonna make some prune pudding" I said matter of factly. I headed towards the kitchen.

"At least there isn't a big amp in the way for you to get your prune stuff stuck on" Marty admitted.

"If that is the only thing I accomplish in the past I'll be happy" I agreed.

"It's the future" Marty corrected.

"Marty, I'm making prune pudding in a grass stained prom dress. I don't really care if were in the past pr the future" I replied mellowly.

"Not to mention the water stains from shimmying up the drain pipe" Marty reminded me.

"You will never forget that will you?" I laughed.

"Not in a million years" Marty laughed.

"When do you think he's gonna wake up?" Marty asked seriously.

"You never can tell. One time he stayed like that for days. I used him for a table and a footrest" I joked. Marty looked at me coldly.

"I'm telling the truth" I admitted. My hand hit the bowel of Prune pudding sending it flying through the air. It landed squarely on Doc's sleeping head. As soon as it landed on Doc's head Doc sprung to attention.

Doc paid no attention to us as he ran over to his desk. He grabbed his sound recorder and began to speak.

"Date, Sunday, November 13th, 1955 7:01 AM. Last night's time travel experiment was apparently a complete success. Lightning struck the clock tower at precisely 10:04 pm sending the necessary 1.21 jigowatts into the time vehicle, which vanished in a brilliant flash of light leaving a pair of fire trails behind. I therefore assumed that Marty, Abby and the time vehicle were transported forward through time into the year 1985. After that...after that...I can't recall what happened. I don't even remember how I got home! Perhaps the jigowatt discharge coupled with the temporal displacement field generated by the time

vehicle caused a disruption of my own brain waves resulting in a condition of temporary amnesia. Indeed I now recall the moments after the time vehicle disappeared ... into the future ... I saw a vision of Marty saying, 'I've come back from the future." Doc said the whole time with Prune pudding all through his hair.

"Hey Doc. Did ya blow a circuit?" Marty asked confused. Doc.

"Don't say that to him! He's just been through a traumatic experience!" I pointed out.

"The pudding?" Marty joked. I slapped him upside the head.

The house was met with a loud screams. Doc tripped over the hoverboard and crashed into our grand piano.

"Doc, calm down. It's us! Marty and Abby!" Marty tried.

"Ahem, you mean Abby and Marty" I pointed out.

"No! It can't be you I just sent you back to the future!" Doc yelled crazed. The bowel was still sitting neatly on his head.

"But we came back from the future, remember? Last night you fainted…" Marty explained.

"Passed out sounds better" I interrupted.

"I brought you home" Marty continued.

"We brought you home" I corrected.

"Who drove the car?" Marty asked hands on his hips.

"I would have but the police took away my license for driving without a license last year! Plus, you were complaining about carrying him in here with my help! Think about how much more weight you'd have to carry if I wasn't here!" I argued.

"This can't be happening! You can't be here! It doesn't make sense!" Doc yelled running into the bathroom.

"We are here, and it does make sense. We came back to 1955 with the you from 1985 to get a book back from Biff. So once we got the book back, you...that is the you from 1985...were in the Delorian when it got struck by lightning and you got sent back to 1885!" Marty yelled waving his hands everywhere.

"Yep, that pretty much sums it up" I agreed.

"1885? It's a very interesting story, Future Boy, but

there's one little thing that doesn't make sense. If the me in the future is now in the past, how could you possibly know about it?" Doc asked coming out of the bathroom.

"You sent me and Abby a letter" Marty said. I gave Doc my letter.

"Dear Abby, If my calculations are correct, you will receive this letter immediately after you saw the Delorian struck by lightning. First, let me assure you that I am alive and well. I have been living happily these past eight months in the year 1885. The lightning bolt that hit the Delorian caused a jigowatt overload which scrambled the

time circuits, activated the flux capacitor, and sent me back to 1885. The overload shorted out the time circuits and destroyed the flying circuits. Unfortunately, the car will never fly again." Doc read.

"It actually flew?" Marty asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, well, you had a hover conversion done in the early twenty first century" Marty explained.

"Incredible!" Doc said as he went back to reading.

"I set myself up as a blacksmith as a front while I attempted to repair the damage to the time circuits. Unfortunately, this proved impossible because suitable

replacement parts will not be invented until 1947. However, I've gotten quite adept at shoeing horses and fixing wagons!" Doc continued.

"I actually end up as a blacksmith in the Old West!" Doc cried in disbelief.

"Well at that time you could basically be anyone you wanted to be. I'd be a cowgirl of course" I said.

"I bet you wouldn't last a minute!" Marty spat.

"Oh, yeah…" I started but Doc cut me off.

"I have buried the Delorian in the Delgado mine

adjacent to the old Boot Hill Cemetery as shown on the enclosed map. Hopefully it will remain undisturbed and preserved until you uncover it in 1955. Inside, you will find repair instructions. My 1955 counterpart should have no problem repairing it so you can drive it back to the future. Once you have returned to 1985, destroy the time machine" Doc read.

"Destroy it?" Doc asked confused.

"That was my same response when Doc told me the first time" I admitted.

"Yeah, well, it's a long story, Doc" Marty admitted.

"Do not I repeat do not attempt to come back here to get me. I am perfectly happy living in the fresh air and wide open spaces, and I fear that unnecessary time travel only risks further disruption of the space-time continuum. And please take care of Einstein for me. Please don't cry my darling Abby. I know I promised that I'd spend more time with you, but as you see that is entirely impossible. I love you dearly and always will. Don't throw too many big parties, your father Doc" Doc finished.

"Einstein? Parties?" Doc asked confused.

"He's your dog, Doc Einstein. It's what you call your dog in 1985" Marty explained.

"And well Marty and I have had a history of crazy parties" I added.

"I never knew I could write anything so touching" Doc admitted.

"I know, I know Doc, it's beautiful" I said as he hugged me tightly.

"Oh, it's all right, Copernicus! Everything's going to be fine" Doc assured Einstein.

"I'm sorry, Doc, it's all my fault you're stuck back there. I never should've let Biff get to me" Marty admitted taking the blame.

"There are plenty worse places to be than the Old West. I could've ended up in the Dark Ages. They probably would've burned me at the stake as a heretic or something. Let's look at the map. It says here the time vehicle is buried here in a side tunnel. We may have to blast" Doc admitted. He started gathering suppiles. Marty and me just watched him.

"Are you gonna tell him?" I asked referring to the prune pudding still on his head. Marty shrugged.

"Oh, well…" I agreed.

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