Chapter 3
Wednesday, October 21st
12: 02 P. M.
Doc wandered over to the Café 80s, his stomach growling loudly. He had spent a busy morning exploring Hill Valley and equipping himself. The entire town had taken a turn for the better, with cleaner and quieter streets and less pollution. He had bought himself an appropriately futuristic outfit - a gold jacket, a red shirt with white Chinese symbols, yellow cushioned pants, green calf socks, and a pair of 'hiking sneakers'. Everything was outfitted with small computers, so he didn't have to worry about adjusting anything. He had also purchased a binocular card and a sleep-inducing alpha rhythm generator, E-Z Sleep by brand. He was sure both objects would find their uses in his world.
Pausing at the entrance to the restaurant, he did a double take as he gazed inside. The large windows gracing the front allowed you to see the interior in all its glory. The place was filled with 80s memorabilia. A set of TVs behind the counter displayed menu choices, as well as old 80s TV shows. Doc easily recognized 2 of his favorites, "Taxi" and "Family Ties". By the counter there were 2 exercise bikes with attached headsets. Wanting a closer look at the side walls, Doc walked in.
He was even more amazed then he had been before. The right wall had a line-up of yellow signs, with messages like "Baby on Board" and "Dead wife in trunk". Doc stared at them uncomprehending for a few moments before noticing another sign next to them: "Circa 1988." "Great Scott," he breathed. "I'm seeing memorabilia from the future."
He ran his eye along the walls, eagerly taking it all in. Masks of famous 80s people and some vintage guitars hung against the sign wall, while an arcade was pressed up against the back of a booth behind him. Doc nearly laughed aloud when he saw the sign above the Pac-Man machine: "Priceless Artifact! DO NOT TOUCH!"
Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him. "Welcome to the Cafe 80s," a warm falsetto said. Doc spun around to see a robot running along track on the ceiling. The speaker was a computer-generated Michael Jackson on a video screen, with a tray for carrying food and accepting money underneath. "Our special today is grilled sushi, with hot sauce, peppers, and your choice of meats, chicken, be-be-beef or pork."
Before Doc had time to digest that, another one of the robots rolled up, this one with the Max Headroom-like face of Arnold Schwarzenegger. "No. My circuitry says the best deal is the Ultimate Retro lunch - burgers, fries, and a milkshake all straight out of the 50s."
"Don't be bad," Michael argued. "The sushi is better."
"My mission is to terminate this great food."
As if the scientist wasn't hampered enough, a new vidwaiter joined this, a female this time. Doc recognized her as Madonna. "Now wait! Everyone knows the best deal is on 'La Isle Bonita'! A tropical all you can eat! Justify my love!"
All 3 vidwaiters began babbling at once, arguing with each other and trying to convince Doc their food choice was the best. The scientist finally snapped. "QUIET!"
The robots moved back, actually showing surprise. "Sir?"
"If this is how you think waiters treated their customers back in the 80s, you're dead wrong," Doc snapped. "The Terminator wins. I liked what I heard there." He turned to the Arnie bot. "I'll have a bacon cheeseburger, fries with no ketchup, and a chocolate milkshake."
"Mission accepted." The vidwaiters left him in peace. Shaking his head, Doc collapsed onto a stool and started watching "Taxi". "You'd think they were getting paid by the customer," he quipped to no one in particular.
Doc's peace only lasted a few minutes. As he accepted his food from Arnie, somebody burst into the cafe. Doc turned to see a teenager who was the spitting image of a teen Biff Tannen! At least, if Biff had ever lived in the future. His clothes were dark and tough-looking, complete with a spiky cap and horned boots. Electronic noises accompanied his every move. His face seemed to be set into a permanent scowl. Yup, he was a tried and true Tannen.
'Biff' glared around. "Anybody seen that low-res McFly?" he demanded. His voice was higher than Biff's making him sound permanently stressed. Everyone shook their heads in the negative. "If he comes in, tell him I want to see him." He went back outside, slamming the door.
Doc blinked. "McFly?" he whispered. What did Marty - or his family - have to do with that kid?
He soon got an answer as the door opened again. "Pepsi Perfect," called a strangely familiar yet strangely unfamiliar voice. Doc turned again to see another teenager, this one the spitting image of Marty! He stared as the kid approached the counter beside him. It had to be Marty's son, no doubt about that. But there was something - off about him. His clothes were wrinkled and mussed, and one sleeve of his auto-fit jacket dangled over his hand. His hair, darker than Marty's, stuck out in all directions under his color-changing baseball cap. And, most disturbing of all, his voice reminded the scientist more of George, the young geeky version.
'Marty', receiving and opening his Pepsi, noticed Doc staring at him. "What?" he asked nervously. "Do I know you?"
Doc shook himself out of his trance. "You look like someone I know," he replied, surprised the Marty clone didn't recognize him. 'Marty' just shrugged and went back to his soda, smiling at the pretty girl beside him. Doc slowly started on his own food, keeping an eye on the teen. This was starting to look like all too much like Marty's first day in 1955, as his friend had described it to him.
The Biff clone reentered the cafe, this time trailed by a gang of 3. All of them looked just as nasty as their leader. His eyes found 'Marty' immediately. "Hey McFly!"
'Marty' spun around. For a moment, pure terror flitted across his face. Then he managed a weak, nervous grin. "Griff. Guys," he greeted the group. He pulled up his sagging sleeve and tried to look causal. "How's it goin'?"
Griff and his gang slowly approached the teen with menacing looks. Doc kept a careful watch on the scene. "McFly!"
"Yeah?"
"McFly!!"
"What?" Poor 'Marty' seemed to be growing more frightened by the second.
Griff pointed downward. "Your shoe's unvelked." When 'Marty' looked down to check it out, the bully promptly slugged him. The force of the blow spun the kid completely around. He landed with a moan on the counter. The gang behind Griff laughed uproariously. When Griff yanked 'Marty' back to face him, the kid was also chuckling pathetically. "Heh heh, good one."
Doc started to get up, starting to see red, but the women 'Marty' had been admiring earlier stopped him. "Don't," she said, looking nervous. "That McFly can never get it straight. And trust me, you don't want Griff mad at ya. Especially not when you're an Windows 3.1 like yourself."
Doc gave her an odd look, but sat down again, eyes still fixed on the scene. Griff was getting down to business. "So, McFly, have you made a decision about tonight's - opportunity?"
"Say no, kid," Doc thought, shaking his head. "This kid's a Tannen, and that's just begging for trouble. Say no."
"I dunno, Griff," 'Marty' whined. Yup - definitely had George's personality. "It seems kinda dangerous and all, you know."
"Only C+, but still a no," Doc thought worriedly. "I should say something." He opened his mouth, but the woman shushed him, shaking her head.
A female gang member, with a red tattoo on her eye and sharp, nail-extending rings, made her way up to 'Marty'. "What's wrong, McFly?" she purred, running a sharp edge along his face. 'Marty' gulped. "You got no scroat?!" She nearly jammed her nails into his nether region. As it was, he was thrown back against the counter. Doc winced as McFly let out a cry.
Griff pulled 'Marty' back once again. "So what's it gonna be, McFly? Are you in - or out?"
"I dunno," 'Marty' sniveled. "I think I should discuss it with my father."
"YOUR FATHER?!" the whole gang yelled as one. "Your father is the biggest loser in Hill Valley! Wrong answer, McFly!" Griff picked up 'Marty' bodily and tossed him behind the counter. The teen smacked into the TVs before collapsing into a lump.
Doc lost his temper. "That does it!" He got to his feet, shaking with rage. The woman tried to stop him again, but saw his eyes and left him alone.
Griff didn't notice him at first. He pointed a fat finger at the 2 cyclists who had paused to watch the scene. "Keep pedaling, you two!" he ordered, and they promptly obeyed. He looked back at his gang. "What a low bandwidth," he mocked, while they nodded vigorously. "Everybody knows his dad is the most low-res lo-bo in the town. In the state!" He reached over the counter to pull McFly back up.
Only to be stopped by Doc's hand. He looked up into the scientist's scowling face. "Leave him alone."
Griff just laughed. "Who are you, bojo? His back-up disk?"
Doc didn't even wonder about the slang. "Leave him alone. Anyone who looks like Biff Tannen is a horrible genetic mutation. And apparently you have the brains to match."
Griff's face darkened. "Lay off my Gramps," he growled. "At least he wasn't a loser like Marty McFly Senior! That bojo is the worst loser in the state."
"Marty's not a loser," Doc growled back. This was met with a howl of laughter from the entire gang. Doc lost all self-control. Marty was his best friend, and the scientist owed it to him to protect his good name. Enraged, he took a wild swing at Griff's head.
Griff caught his clenched fist and forced it down painfully. "All right, punching isn't the best option," Doc decided, gritting his teeth. His arm felt like it was going to break. He looked for another line of attack.
He found one. It was playing dirty, but Doc didn't give a shit. He kicked Griff right in the groin. The bully went the color of cooked cod and fell over. His gang advanced towards Doc, who trained his 'death stare' on them. A few minutes of that, and they decided to help their fallen leader outside instead.
As he watched them drag Griff off, Doc started to feel ashamed. He wasn't one to overreact like that, but seeing that bully beat up on Marty's kid. . . . Coupled with leftover adrenalin from his encounter with the Libyans, it had turned into an explosive combination. Ignoring the impressed stares from the other customers, he climbed over the counter to attend to the Marty clone.
The kid was completely out of it, Doc noted with no surprise. He gently sat him up, wondering how to revive him. It finally registered in his head that Griff had called his Marty "Marty McFly Senior". So that meant that the teen before him was - "Junior," he whispered. He gently patted Marty Junior's face. "Junior. . . . Marty Junior, wake up."
Marty Junior came to with a moan. "Okay, Griff, I'll do it," he mumbled.
"Griff's gone, Junior. I made him go away."
Marty Junior's eyes opened slowly. He blinked, then looked at Doc fuzzily. "You're the guy from the counter. . . ."
"Don't you recognize me, Marty Junior? Your father's friend?" Doc prompted, still confused by that.
Marty Junior shook his head slowly. "You look sorta familiar, but you can't be the same guy."
Doc decided not to press the issue. Junior had sustained a rather nasty blow to the head. He helped the teen back over to the right side of the counter, staying with him until he looked a bit more steady. "Thanks, but I think I'm okay," Marty Junior said, rubbing his head. Doc still kept a watch on him as he finished his lunch. He did seem to be recovering quickly, but did that mean he was used to being thrown around by Griff?
He finished his lunch and waved Arnie back over. "How much?" he asked, pulling out a wad of bills.
Arnie looked puzzled. "Standard SkyNet procedure is to use your thumb," he explained, looking at a pad set into the counter.
Doc had heard this many times before, and simply employed his standard excuse by this point. "Bad credit rating. I have to pay cash."
Arnie accepted this. "The total is $154 and 32 cents. Please insert the bills and coins into the appropriate slots."
Doc was rather pleased. This lunch was one of the cheaper things he had bought so far. He had expected it to be horribly expensive, like the rest of his things. It had cost him several thousand dollars to outfit himself for the future. Hoping his hover conversion wouldn't be too expensive, he feed the bills and coins into the machine. The payment machine beeped. "Please deposit $10 more as a handling charge."
"That's more normal," Doc thought, giving it another bill. He dropped the empty dishes on Arnie's tray. "Thank you. Return soon or be terminated." The vidwaiter rolled off. Doc made a final check on Marty Junior, then headed back out onto the streets of Hill Valley. It suddenly hit him how tired he was. He hadn't been getting much sleep lately, what with all his excitement over the time machine. "Maybe I should find a motel and refresh myself. . . ."
His eyes found the RevitaClinic. He wasn't sure what to make of it yet. It looked like a combination hospital/trendy health spa. Still, he was getting on years. What could it hurt to take a poke around? Maybe they offered something where he could catch a quick nap. And better yet, according to the electronic banner under their name, they were having a special: "First Time Customers 50% Discount". "What the hell," he figured and went in.
The inside of the clinic seemed built for comfort. Pleasant, soothing colors decorated the walls and floor. Soft padded benches lined the walls, a few people relaxing on them. Doc somehow forced his eyes away. The room he was in was circular in design, with a desk right in the center. The scientist wasn't too surprised to see a few CGIs manning the desks as well as 2 humans. He walked up and coughed gently to get someone's attention.
A man with a goatee noticed him. "Hey, welcome to RevitaClinic," he said, leaning on the desk. "How are you today, sir?"
"Very tired," Doc admitted. "I'm a first-time customer, so I'd like to take advantage of your offer."
"Sure, that's why we have it. Do you want a full treatment or specialized attention? The full treatment's best the first time."
"Then I'll take that." He pulled out his cash. "How much?"
"With the discount and the handling surcharge. . . ." The clerk pulled out a mini-computer. "$10,000 even. Bills in that slot."
Doc slid them in and did a few mental calculations. He still had about .79 million left. That should be enough for the hover conversion. "Do I have to wait for anyone?"
The clerk checked. "No, we have someone free in the BC room. First door on your left, Mr.-?"
"Dr. Michael Lloyd. Visiting Hill Valley for the first time."
"Ah. Well, enjoy your refresher, Dr. Lloyd. I certainly did."
Doc paused as he headed for the door. "Excuse me for saying this, but you don't really need to have one. You look very good."
"Especially for 50," the guy grinned. Doc's eyes bulged. He had guessed the clerk at 35, tops! "Have fun!" Doc looked at him a minute longer, then nodded and headed through the door.
A doctor and 2 nurses were there, chatting. They broke off as Doc entered. "Oh, hello. Are you here for a complete?" Doc nodded as he heard a beeper go off in the doctor's pocket. "Just a moment. Oh, you must be Dr. Lloyd. I'm Dr. Richards, and this is Tyna and Michelle." The 2 nurses smiled. "I see this is your first time at one of these places. Let me assure you there is nothing to worry about from this procedure. We're fully trained professionals. Now, if you would take off your coat, shirt, and pants and lie down on this table. . . ."
Doc followed his instructions, looking around at the strange machines on either side. "What exactly does this procedure entail?" he asked, lying down. The metal wasn't cold, thankfully.
"Freshening your blood, removing wrinkles, replacing worn out organs, that sort of thing," Tyna said, pricking his left arm with a needle. It beeped and displayed something on a readout. "Type AB+, huh? We don't get many of those. Don't worry, we've got plenty of it fresh." She pressed a button on both machines, and they began to hum softly.
Doc started to get nervous. "Er - what did you mean by that comment, Tyna?"
"This is your first time. We're exchanging your old blood for some newer stuff." Doc went pale, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. "Don't worry, it's perfectly safe. We've done it thousands of times. And all the bloods been strengthened immunity-wise, so there's no danger from infection." Before Doc could protest, she had inserted the tubes into his arms.
Michelle came around his head, holding a headband with wires and lights on it. She gently fitted it over his forehead. "Now what's this for?"
"To ensure you're out for the entire operation. It also suppresses bad dreams. If you get too agitated, it'll blank you out for a little bit."
"Ah." "Interesting. I might want to check this technology out in case I ever want to work on my mind-reader again."
After ensuring everything was set up correctly, Dr. Richards produced a sleep-inducer from his pocket. Doc couldn't help but smile. "I just bought one of those. Now I get to see first-hand how it works."
Dr. Richards chuckled. "Pleasant dreams, Dr. Lloyd," he said, activating it. 2 prongs flipped out from the main body and strobed a light pattern into Doc's eyes. The scientist's mind went blank. Moments later, he was sound asleep.