Jesus Christ. Why is my phone ringing? It's the middle of the night.

Without opening my eyes all the way, I lean over and grab my phone, and promptly disconnect it from the slow trickle-charge, which is the only way to charge it at all anymore. After charging for hours, it's managed to get all the way to 10%. Yay. Once the charger port goes, and I have no doubt that it will, someday very soon, I'm going to be SOL for days, if not weeks.

I was hoping for Mindy, but instead, of course, I get Doc.

"Yea?" I answer, groggily.

"Are you asleep?!" Doc sounds kind of like he's in manic and panic mode, so I reply,

"No, did you need something?" Of course I'm asleep. It's two in the morning. Normal people are not awake at two in the morning, and if they are, they're not calling their lab assistants up to pester them. What the fuck, man.

"Didn't you read my email?" Doc demanded.

"No… I'm sorry, I never saw it. What's it say?" Odds are very good that he never actually sent said email. He's absent-minded like that.

"I need you out here at Twin Pines Mall, Mark. To film my experiment!"

"Uh, okay. Sure, Doc. I'll head over there in a minute."

"Good. Thanks, Mark."

"Oh, hey. Doc?"

"What?"

"Do you have something there to film it with? My phone is fucked."

Doc sighs.

"Stop by the lab on your way here, then. Pick up my old iPhone. We can use that."

"Sure thing, Doc. See you in fifteen." The line was already dead. Doc's not the best with social skills.

I finally arrive at Twin Pines, on foot. I didn't dare borrow the car. It looks like Doc's brought out his flatbed trailer, which is unusual. And speaking of cars.

Huh. Is that an old Delorean?

"Mark!" Doc greets me enthusiastically. "Put this on!" He thrusts a yellow radiation suit at me. Wait. A radiation suit? What the fucking fuck? But I've been a lab assistant long enough that I know not to ask questions. I throw it on, over my clothes.

"Should I start filming?" I ask. It's a rhetorical question, since I already did start filming.

"You look like a reject from a Devo song!" Doc laughs, as he finishes putting on his own suit. "I guess I do, too!" He chuckles, at his little joke that I did not get. He does that a lot.

"Uh, Doc?" I gesture to the car. "Is that a real Delorean?" The DMC logo is plainly visible in front, check; a stainless-steel body, check; gull-wing doors, check; underneath all that equipment is, indeed, a genuine Delorean-12 model. I've never seen one in person before.

"I wanted to use a Bricklin!" Doc nodded towards the car, "But I couldn't find one that was still in one piece! This one gets better gas mileage, anyway." He's clearly said something hilarious (to him) again, as he laughs. Weirdo.

"What is all this," I gestured to the wicked-looking modifications along the quarter-panels of the Delorean, "is this a…" I start backing away from it, without thinking. "Is that…" Oh my fucking god.

"Yes! It's an RTG! No moving parts! Just the thing for generating long-term power! Are you filming this?"

"Doc. Are you telling me," I can barely choke out the words, "you put a big box of plutonium," I paused for a moment, "into a Delorean?"

Well, I'm not sure it's science, but it's definitely got a certain flair. You have to give him credit for that, at least.

"It's perfectly safe! Perfectly safe!"

I feel like an idiot for pointing this out, but I can't help myself, "Doc. Plutonium? That's illegal."

Doc shrugs. "Maybe it's illegal right here, right now. But in other places? Other times?" He trails off.

He's a goddamn felony, looking for a place to happen, that's what.

"Okay." I'm speechless for a minute, at the sheer lunacy of what he's done, here, but whatever. Moving right along. "So, um, yeah. You've got an RTG powering the um… that's not the main engine, right? What is that? It's leading to-what's that tank?"

"Excellent question! That's a special lead-lined receptacle for the hydrazine!" He's all cheery, with a 'no fucks given' expression on his face, as he reveals the presence of fucking, amazingly dangerous, unstable, corrosive, fucking rocket fuel, oh my God. He's a maniac. And this is so cool, I could die right now. And honestly, it seems like a very real possibility.

"Hydrazine? You're fucking around with hydrazine? How fast is this thing going to go, anyway? You planning on blasting that thing off to Mars?"

"Oh, Mark!" He's laughing again, doubled-over. "It's not to make it go fast! It's to generate the necessary power for this!" He opens up one of the gull-wing doors and gestures to a Y-shaped device along the struts of the roll-cage that I can't even begin to imagine the purpose of.

"Wait. Wait. Doc. Where did you get this stuff?"

Doc motions for me to pause the recording, so I do.

"I got the formula for hydrazine by Googling for it! And the RTG is a Soviet one, that the CNSA got a hold of! They'll never miss it, they have a hundred of them!" Doc looks at me, obviously seeking approval. I tap the iPhone to get it recording again.

"That's amazing, Doc." He grins widely at the praise. "So, are we doing a full demonstration of the experiment tonight, or what? Talk me through it!" This is the craziest thing I've ever seen in my life. And I've had access to YouTube since I could walk, practically.

"You bet we are! Let's get started. Let me get Rover." Doc whistles for Rover, who trots over to us trustingly, from his spot in the truck's cab.

"Your dog? What's Rover going to do?"

Doc is securing Rover in the driver's seat of the DeLorean. I could point out to him that a human seat belt is useless on a dog's anatomy, but it's not like the dog's going anywhere, right? Dogs can't drive.

And, maybe I spoke too soon. Doc whips out a radio-control system from the space behind the seat. He pats Rover on the head, and closes the gull-wing door. Rover looks at us through the uselessly tiny partition of the gull window, as the car slams into reverse. How on earth could you ever go to a drive-thru with that thing?

Rover better hope he has good insurance, because Doc clearly thinks we're filming The Fast & The Furious tonight, here. He's burnout revving the engine, which just for the record, is clearly not stock. For one thing, whatever it is has a supercharger. For another, that engine sounds way too smooth to be anything other than a V8, and Delorean never made one. So, yeah. Heavily modified. Right on, Doc.

I'm keeping the camera focused on the car, on the far side of the parking lot from us. The rear tires are smoking, sending up plumes, as I'm watching the gauges on Doc's radio controller. When it hits 60, he pops it and lets it come roaring straight at us.

"Wait til you see what happens when it hits 88!" Doc chortled in excitement, as the speeding car closed the distance, very rapidly. I keep the camera trained right on it. I can see poor Rover in the front seat, it's getting so close. Doc seems content to just stand right there in its path.

Have fun with that, man.

But I'm not getting run over tonight, thanks, and when the car is a few seconds away, I start quickly backing off to my right.

Then, there's three flashes of white light, and what sounds like a sonic boom, as the Delorean disappears, leaving only two trails of fire.