November 11th, 1955.

9:00 PM

Hill Valley, California.

The sonic booms sounded hundreds of feet above Clayton Ravine, near Marty's future neighborhood of Hilldale, where Biff originally stole the time machine. Biff thought that if it was Friday night, people could still be up and hear this.

He however remembered how desolate this area was. There was some light traffic and the occasional Friday night cruisers, but nothing compared to 1985 or 2015, where it was a built-up, suburban area with heavy traffic. He considered hiding the car out here, near the ravine. He realized though, the blessing of it being a ghost town out here could also be the downfall. How would he get from here into town?

He tipped the sports car back up into the night sky, hoping and pretty sure there wouldn't be a low flying airplane out. He went east, towards the center of town and where the Lone Pine Mall would be built in 1971. There were plenty of farmhouses out there where he could hide the car.

If I did it back in that Western Hill Valley, I won't have a problem in 1955, he thought.

He wanted to have an aerial look at his hometown he remembered from 60 years ago, but didn't dare get low enough for the car to be seen. That wouldn't be good. After about 10 minutes, after passing over town, he reached the Peabody farm, now called Twin Pines Ranch. Otis would change it to Lone Pine in 1957, when he gave up trying to replace the tree that he claimed some space zombie bastard had ran over.

Old Biff knew not to risk having him see the time machine. In this time, that would be twice in under a week. He started to wonder if the space zombie Peabody was always ranting about could've been Marty on a trip to 1955. He recalled how similar that Calvin Klein guy he knew for a week looked compared to George & Lorraine's second son in 1985. Klein had disappeared after only a week in town, leaving a very angry Biff behind, and Marty & Doc were talking about a time machine like it was a casual thing back in 2015. Calvin Klein hung out with Doc from 1955 as well. The pieces were beginning to fit.

Those thoughts would have to go on hold for now though. Hovering above the sparse Route 395 heading east very slowly. After passing Peabody's farm, going this direction would lead straight out into the hills and away from civilization. He knew about abandoned farmhouses out here, but anyone's memory could get cloudy after this many years.

A little under two miles from the farm, and about four from downtown Hill Valley, he saw the perfect place. It was an unlocked barn covered in hay and whatever other elements had come its way since it was let go, probably sometime earlier in the century.

Landing the car behind it (just in case anyone drove by), he went to make sure it would be safe to park in for a day or so, and the dang thing wouldn't cave in on the car or anything else like that. Hobbling over to the neglected swinging door, he bashed off the rusted and flimsy lock with his cane pretty easily. Hoping for the best, he slowly undid the door. Just like on the outside, there were a few bales of hay inside as well, and a few ancient looking tools, such as a pick and shovel.

I can use these as a weapon, he thought. If anyone should find him in here, like Doc or Marty, even though that was unlikely, he still liked the idea.

Just than, he found that he still had his gun with him from the almost too friendly salesman, Billy Bob. He thought that would be a better thing to keep on him, just in case anything went wrong. Going back over to the car, he drove it in the old-fashioned way.  He also took the most important feature of all, the plastic bag with the future sports almanac in it. Imagine if he went through all the trouble to steal the time machine and track down his younger self only to discover he'd forgotten the book in the car. Talk about what a wasted trip that would be!

He had to get moving and wanted to make it into town soon. He knew exactly where and when to find his younger self the next day, so he couldn't risk being late for that. He slowly crossed the road so he would be on the same side as those heading for Hill Valley.

Even at this late hour, there were quite a few people out driving on the mini thoroughfare. Before long, a man driving a turquoise '48 Thunderbird screeched to a halt to pick the old man up.

"I didn't even see you standing there until it was too late. If you're going into town, get in the passenger seat."

Biff recognized the man and begrudgingly took his place in the front seat. Of everyone who could've stopped for him, why did it have to be Samuel Baines, Lorraine's father? The 45 year-old man, who looked and seemed much older, hastily pulled into traffic.

Biff improvised. "Yes, that's right. I was just coming into town and my car ran out of gas a little while back there." He hoped this guy wouldn't grill him about it like he tended to do with people.

"Well, why were you going out if you didn't have a full tank? Excuse me for saying, sir, but only an idiot would do that!"

Yep, this was clearly the guy he remembered back in the day. Biff was already angry at a guy who was, by now, long dead. "If I noticed it runnin' down, you don't think I'd leave it that way, would you?"

Changing the subject, he asked, "So where are you headed, Mr. Baines?

"What do you think? I'm not a kid anymore; I'm going home on a Friday night. I just came from the Indian casino up in the hills." Softening up a little, Baines continued, "Listen pal, I don't mean to come off this way, but I've just been under some stress. My daughter Lorraine is going to a school dance tomorrow. Now I know she's 18 in a couple of weeks, she's not a little girl anymore, so that would be okay with me, but this kid named Calvin Klein who calls himself Marty is going with her. Whatever his name is, he's a moron."

Biff instantly knew who that was. "I know that punk, Klein," he said, almost as angry as his current 1955 self would've said it. "His whole family too, they're all losers, especially his old man!"

Lightening up a little, Sam told his passenger about the mysterious young man. "I met him when he was in the house for awhile last week. I can't tell you how jumpy he was. He was watching Jackie Gleason with us at the dinner table and claimed he'd seen one of the new episodes. He said something about John F. Kennedy, whoever the hell that is."

As they passed the to-be built Lyon Estates and got closer to town, Old Biff could now never deny that Calvin Klein and Marty McFly were the same person. It sure cleared up a lot. Sam looked straight ahead and continued, in a deadpan manner, "Do you know what's worse?"

Biff asked, "No? What cold be worse than the future town loser going out with your daughter?"

"My wife, Stella, thinks he's a nice boy and a good date for Lorraine because he claims to be in the Coast Guard. She thinks he's a little strange, but I go too hard on him. What is it with wives sometimes," he echoed the sentiment of many men of the time.

Biff was positive that Mr. Baines would never catch on to who he really was. It's not like the old grump knows I've time traveled here! In fact, nobody knows about time travel.

With this in mind, he said something about his younger self. "Do you know who Lorraine should've gone to the dance with? Biff Tannen! I know he's a butthead sometimes, but he's a cooler kid than Mc, err, Klein is. The least that broad could do is give Biff a chance in his life instead of blowing him off," a certain sadness and anger emitted in the last sentence.

Sam was inquiring to this. "What concern do you have about Tannen, mister, what's your name?"

He decided to use the same nickname. "Thomas."

"Listen Mr. Thomas, I think Tannen is even worse. Klein is just a bouncy idiot, but Biff Tannen is a real troublemaker. He and his friends used to throw eggs at my car windows when he was younger. Now he causes all kind of trouble around town, he's probably going to end up in jail someday." He suddenly came out of his position and turned toward the old man in an almost threatening way, "Tell me again why you suggest my daughter date a hooligan like that! I don't care how old she is, she could date Tannen when they are 40, and I'll still disown her. I don't stand for that in my family!"

Biff really did regret the way he used to be, to some extent. When George punched him (or, from a matter of present time, would punch him) it made him mad and lonely, but it made him look at his life differently. He still didn't like Sam Baines being such a jerk and saying these things about a guy he didn't even know, not to mention speaking that way about his own kids.

"Hey, hey Biff is a wild and mean kid sometimes," his own voice suddenly rose as he gripped his cane tighter. "But, you ain't gonna judge him on a few pranks. In fact, after today, he might even be richer than you could imagine. Rich enough to be a legend."

Sam Baines was taken aback that an old man was defending an obnoxious, sometimes dangerous person, and a 17 year-old, no less. "Oh, yeah? Who the hell are you, his grandpa?"

Inside, he had to laugh at that, but knew he had to make a cover up. "No, but let's just say I know of him pretty well," slight sarcasm coming through.

The balding middle-aged father decided to let it go as they were entering the Courthouse Square. "I'm sorry about that. Now, where was it you wanted to go?"

He remembered a certain hotel that was very inexpensive. "Well, just the Bluebird Motel would be okay. At least until I can find a place to stay."

Sam didn't quite know what he meant by that, but agreed to it, as he made another turn and approached the Inn. Slowing the car to a stop within eyesight of the Courthouse, h let Biff out. "Very well. Here we are, Mr. Thomas, it's nice to meet you, and have a nice stay here."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Biff half barked as he shut the door and slowly went inside with his few possessions of the time: The concealed almanac, the technically 70 year-old stolen money and a handgun.

Satisfied with his actions as of yet, Biff slowly walked into the small front desk area of the motel. It appeared to be empty inside, but there were faint noises of a radio in the background. He said his famous catchphrase, "Hello, hello! Anybody home?" Within seconds, a middle-aged man popped out from the back room, looking fairly cheerful.

"Oh, hi there sir. I'm sorry about that, me and the boys were just listenin' to a Marx Brothers radio show." Fixing his shirt, he sat down and continued, "So, what can I get you for tonight?"

"Well, how much is one room, it's all I need," he said rather abruptly.

One room? Oh, it's not much. In fact, it's the place most travelers on a budget come. Eight dollars on the T. We take cash. Just sign your name here," the man continued.

No, not again.

Biff wanted to go five minutes without having to use a name. Now, he'd have to come up with a first name too, and he couldn't use his own. Hey, how many guys named Biff were really around anyway? I can't use that anymore, even if I do use Thomas. Since that's my middle name, they might have more reason to think I'm my own relative! Buttheads!

He banged the bottom of his cane into the ground with disgust and confusion. In order to stall time, he took the guy up on the first thing he said. "You like the Marx Brothers? I can remember they were big when I was a kid."

"Oh, they're very witty. Many people like their television sets now. I have one, but I ain't about to give the radio up for pictures neither." Slowing down, he got a confused look on his face. "Wait a minute, you just said they were big when you were a kid. But, it, they, their hey day was just m-m-maybe 15 years ago," he stuttered.

Just proof that I've gotta be careful having normal conversation while time traveling. Why did I discover that too late? Now I've got two problems to fix, instead of one.

Brainstorming, he said, "I said that just because it seems that long ago. I would've liked them than too. It's just that my name is Groucho, just like one of them. Groucho Thomas. I thought that was real funny too." He tried to laugh at his own pre-assembled lie.

"Well I can imagine why, Mr. Thomas!" Biff knew he'd again won. After Biff paid 8 stolen dollars for the room, the motel employee lit up. "By Lordie, this is antique money. It looks brand new as well; it says 1874 here. I'm keepin' this as a collector's item. I bet you had this stuff since you was a young'in."

"Just some old bills laying around. Keep it for yourself if you want."

Old Biff liked his niceness, as it was a change to guys like Mr. Baines, but he was wishing the man would shut up before Biff died of old age. Reaching into a compartment, the man handed him a little key attached to a plastic thing with the room number on it. "Now, you're in room 42, have a nice stay. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

He mumbled a half-hearted "Yeah" to himself as he trudged along to his room.

It was a cold November night, as the old man could see his frosty breath in front of him. Knowing how chatty and curious that guy was, Biff wondered how he'd react if he'd seen the DeLorean, a flying one at that!

Opening up his room with an old-fashioned key, instead of the electronic cards widely used in the not-so-distant future, he looked around the sparse settings. There was a single Queen-sized bed, a nightstand with a light, a small radio, and, of course, a bathroom. He wanted something to keep his attention, and that was hard without a TV. There weren't any magazines or books here either. As much as he liked the time period from his own memories, he had to admit it was somewhat boring compared to 60 years ahead.

Setting his gun carefully in the nightstand drawer, he took the toted almanac out of the already wrinkling plastic bag. He wondered how much of this he'd remember. It had been 15 years since the last game was played, and the print was fairly small, allowing them to cram all that information into a maybe 150-200 paged paperback.

Florida beat the Marlins in '97. They got that one right I watched that game.

He knew he would deliver it to his younger self tomorrow afternoon, when he picked his manure-filled car from his former friend, Terry, one of the town mechanics. He wondered what exactly his other self would say to him. He had seen what other people had to say about the 60 years older version of 1955 Biff. He even saw his own criminal ancestor face to face, and with a little cover story, managed to get along with him.

Even in comparison, it all was nothing. While he clearly remembered himself, he was sure his younger self wouldn't know who he was. However, what truly made him nervous was exactly how 17 year-old Biff would react to 77 year-old Biff. What if he told the old man to just get lost and wouldn't even listen to himself (literally)?

Hey, who better to know me than, well, me, he said to himself. Still reeling from all he'd made himself do, with it not even done yet, he drifted off to sleep fully clothed, much like one Marty McFly would often do.

Before too long, he began dreaming. However, this was unlike any other dream the old man had before. All he saw was what looked to be a much busier version of his hometown. There weren't yet any flying cars or futuristic technology, but he knew it was sometime past the 80s, just from the way some of the kids were dressing. It was a scary place, yet he himself had no idea what was going on. He felt relieved momentarily when he spotted the woman who had been his slightly obsessive romantic interest since he was in Elementary School: Lorraine Baines.

It didn't quite look like the pretty Lorraine he'd known who was married to George McFly and played tennis. She was attractive, but looked more around-the-block with drugs and alcohol. He sensed he was seeing this world through his own eyes. At this moment, a possibly 55 or 60 year-old version of Lorraine turned around with venomous anger, heading straight for him, she screamed, "You bastard, I should've done this a long time ago, you worthless piece of!"

Her voice was cut off by the sheer force of her shooting with a large handgun into his face. The only sound in the world was that of the trigger being pulled at point blank range.

Biff awoke in more fright than he'd almost ever been in before, gasping like he had been shot for real. Quickly checking around the room, he saw his own gun was right where he'd left it no less than a couple hours ago. He loudly shouted, "Anybody here with me?"

Needless to say, there was no answer. Biff must've thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him because of time travel. He opted for a little distraction. Because there was no TV, he opted for the next best thing, the bedside radio.

There wouldn't be any music, and probably not much news, sports or anything else, but anything was better than the eerie silence. There was no FM radio, so he only had one setting to scan for stations. After coming up with mostly static and other 'Dead' noises, he finally located a droning, boring sounding man's voice. It sounded like one of those old infomercials he remembered making fun of.

Oh well, at least this dork is better than nothing, the time traveler thought out loud.

After about half an hour, Biff decided to try once again for some sleep. He tossed and turned, hoping this dream was a one-time occurrence. After about half the night in peaceful sleep, the dreams were back.

It was the exact same as before, where a 50something Lorraine shoots him at close range. This time, knowing what would happen, he tried scrambling out of the way, fighting, or anything to avoid getting shot. Whenever he would try, he'd be paralyzed with fear and literally couldn't move, thereby allowing him to witness his own shooting, and probable death.

Just as he was about to scream, something else interrupted his thoughts, a loud buzzing noise. Could it be the fire alarm? Waking up even more scared than before and sweating, he located the sound to his right. The phone was ringing!

Accidentally knocking the receiver over, he picked it back up again, "What! Who the hell is this?"

"Oh, it's the hotel, Mr. Thomas." This wasn't the same guy from last night, but a somewhat younger man. "Sorry if I got you up at a bad time, but you wanted a wake-up call at 6 o'clock this morning."

In everything that went on, it's not surprising that he forgot. "Oh, I did. Good, thanks a lot, I'll be out in an hour or something."

Hanging up the phone, Biff wanted to take a minute to decipher that dream. Why was Lorraine involved in them? More importantly, why did it revolve around his death? He thought if time travel was messing with his mind, either Marty or Doc Brown would be the central characters. They were the ones involved with him finding it out anyway.

The possibilities were endless. After spending the next hour showering and having a snack, he got going before this plan really would backfire.