Biff made his way out of the Café quickly. As much as he'd like to bully George again and hang out there, he wouldn't risk having the police arrest him. After several minutes of slow walking, he headed back behind the town theatre and turned right, walking toward his old high school, half a mile from the Square. It wasn't far, but because of his health, it took him over 20 minutes to get there on foot.

Some teachers and administrators were already there, helping to set up for the dance, which would start at 8:00 that night. He remembered he had come there that morning to vandalize the place and had been caught by Strickland.

Sure enough, as Old Biff went around to the front door and paced reminiscently around his old hallway, he heard Young Biff's voice coming from a partially opened door, which read "S.S. Strickland. Discipline." Even though his name was Gerald, he kept that sign up as part of a serious joke.

"Well, Mr. Strickland," Young Biff said, "that detention you put on me before Halloween. I was sleeping in that morning, but I'm awake now. In fact, I ain't even been to bed yet," he said in smart-aleck fashion.

A loud, partially yelling voice erupted. "And you're telling me this now, Mr. Tannen? I should give you a whole month of detention for your constant smart mouth and all your trouble here! You were also late for school three days in a row. Talk about a slacker!"

Right now, both Biffs were a little resentful of the already bald and aged looking 38 year-old Vice Principal. "Sir, I did hit a manure truck with my car, in case you forgot. This guy Terry, who I know, is cleaning it out for me. I can't get here so easy when my car is full of sh*t."

"Watch your language in here, Tannen, " Strickland barked as he tensed up to the point of being able to see the veins on his forehead. "It serves you right, being a hooligan and chasing down that new kid, whatever his name is."

"Yeah, Calvin Klein, and he's gonna pay for this too," the almost 18 year-old said, unashamed.

"You know the rules, any fighting in school, it's an automatic suspension. I should keep you here just for saying that, and the little stunt you were trying to pull this morning. Don't you think you are a little too old to be throwing water balloons at school windows? You better get off these premises before I discipline you. And don't come back until the dance tonight, and even then, you better behave yourself" Opening his office door and halfway pushing Biff out of it, he repeated "Slacker!"

Meanwhile, Old Biff was laughing at the mention of water balloons as he rested. Leaning on some of the lockers, right next to where George had tried to ask Lorraine out the past Monday. Biff knew what to expect when his 60 years younger counterpart came out of Strickland's office. He was still in awe and said something.

"H-hey, Biff. Strickland sure is a jerk, isn't he?"

Young Biff got a little confused. "Uh, yeah he is, but how the hell did you know my name, old man?"

"Well, I used to go to school here and I remember his father."

"Strickland's father," Young Biff questioned, bursting out laughing. "That guy must be even older than you, but you must be losing your marbles. Strickland always tells us his dad and his grandpa were both cops. Now, get outta my way. I'm out of here," he said as he lightly pushed past his older self and quickly walked in the direction of his house.

Biff now realized he'd better be more prepared for his later meeting. Just for fun, he wanted to have a look around the school a little more. It looked nothing like this in 2015. He had gone there on occasion before Griff had a car, to pick him up after school. By than, it had many add-ons, including higher and lower levels. Many classrooms were remodeled or replaced altogether. Aside from the occasional passing glance from a staff member, he got no questions as to whom he was or any trouble. After almost half an hour, he saw an empty upstairs classroom, which was unlocked. He quickly ducked in.

He remembered this very room quite well. A geeky man named Mr. Arky had taught History in here. Though he wasn't really much older than the students – possibly in his mid to late 20s – Biff remembered this guy was dull as dirt as might as well have been 100. Feeling like a 10 year-old prankster, he stumbled over to the chalkboard and wrote the following out in big letters.

Arky is a boring a**h*le. Get a life!

Smiling and satisfied, he shuffled out of the room, taking the chalk and eraser with him, so it would be harder to erase. He made sure not to write Butthead so his younger self wouldn't get in trouble. Figuring he would quit while he was ahead, he carefully and slowly made his way down the stairs, side stepping down while holding the rail with both hands and lightly kicking his cane down with him. He finally tossed the remaining chalk and erasers in a trash can outside the building.

He knew he had to kill time. It was still a couple hours before his counterpart showed up at Terry's. Less than half a mile from his old school, he was back at the theatre. He decided to see "Cattle Queen of the Montana" even though he was never a Ronald Reagan fan.

Nobody he knew worked there, which worked to his advantage. Buying one ticket, he went in, relatively unnoticed. Most townspeople probably assumed he was just an old man they'd never seen before. He didn't assume so-called Calvin Klein went to see this movie during his weeklong stay in the past either. He had to wait almost an hour for it to begin, though. He passed the time by reading more of the almanac, keeping it out of view of passersby obviously.

As the film started, he uncomfortably blended into the crowd of many ages. As it played, he took a different feeling to it than he did in 1955, even if it still wasn't the best movie he'd ever seen. Getting up a few times to go to the bathroom and get drinks and snacks, he never noticed anything unusual. There were a couple girls talking loudly, but he didn't give it a second thought.

When the credits rolled, he got up to leave. It was now 1:15 in the afternoon and knew he'd better get moving. Luckily his destination was only a few hundred feet away. This time, however, he was feeling another in the series of déjà vu attacks today. It was those same two girls giggling and talking throughout the movie.

One of them was behind him and politely said, "Oh, excuse me. Sorry about that," as she walked past him. He gave an "It's okay" kind of wave back. However he followed them out the exit door. He heard one of them say, "Gee, Lorraine, that movie wasn't so good. Shouldn't we head to Ruth's to get your outfit tonight?"

Speaking much more confidently than her friend, Lorraine said, "Oh yeah, Betty. I can't wait for Calvin to pick me up tonight in his uncle's car. I know he'll be nervous, but he's such a cutie, don't you think?"

"He seems like it. I always wonder why he's so anxious when you try to get close to him. Do you think he's ever had a girlfriend before?"

Marty's (or Calvin's) future mom reassured them. "He's enough of a dream to have 5 girlfriends at once. He's brave, strong, and not to mention, cool. He's so nice to have instead of Biff and his friends. Maybe Calvin just doesn't know what to say because he really likes me too. I just want to have a real boyfriend and marry a guy like that. I'm not getting any younger, I'll be 18 years old in 2 weeks, you know.

In the midst of their conversation, they were unaware of the old guy following them. "Hey girls! You know about this Calvin Klein?"

They turned around. Lorraine was the one who answered, a little unsure. "Um, yes I know him. Do you?"

"You could say that. He's a punk and a loser, just like his old man. You should go out with Biff Tannen," he said as he moved closer to his lifelong romantic interest.

"I'll never go out with him. Look, I don't know how you know Biff, but just leave me alone, old man!"

Lorraine and her friend, Betty went into Ruth's Frock Shop, assuming the old man would be gone by the time they left. It would take them awhile to pick out a few outfits, after all. In the meantime, he jaywalked across the street and watched as 24 year-old Terry Smith put the finishing touches on his beloved old '46 Ford.

After a good 20 minutes of walking around the area while waiting, he finally saw his younger self as he approached from the opposite direction. He knocked some little kid's hat off as he happily walked up to his car.

"Looking good, Terry."

"Hey, Biff, she's all fixed up just like new. But I couldn't get her started though," the mechanic said in a friendly way as he walked a few steps forward, from Biff's car to the tow truck ahead of him. "You got some kind of kill switch on this thing?"

Young Biff said with pride, "Nah, you just gotta have the right touch. Nobody can start this car but me." He opened the passenger door and dove backwards into the seat, quickly starting the engine using a hidden series of wires under the dash. Ever since he'd lost his keys a year or so earlier, he had to hotwire it and always remembered how to do it.

Outside, Terry read him the charges. "Okay Biff, the bill comes to 302 dollars and 86 cents."

Biff's attitude changed as he shut the engine back off and jumped out of the car, shutting the door. "300 bucks? 300 bucks for a couple of dents! No, that's b*llsh*t, Terry!"

Unfazed, his somewhat friend corrected him, "No Biff, it was horsesh*t! The whole car was full of it."

In the background, Old Biff watched the actions taking place, laughing to himself.

Terry continued, "I had to pay Old Man Jones 80 bucks to haul it away!" The niceness of his tone was beginning to disappear.

"Old Man Jones? He probably resold it too, now I oughta get something for that."

"You wanna get something for it? We'll go inside, you can call Old Man Jones, if he wants to give you a refund-"

Biff angrily cut him off, "That's 300 bucks!"

Terry tried to calm him down as they walked across the street into the Western Auto Parts store. "Biff, I tried to talk him down."

Biff was too angry. "If I catch the guy who caused this, I'll break his neck!"

Old Biff watched them enter the store as he talked out loud. "The manure. I remember that," he said with a slight laugh.

A few minutes later, after Young Biff came out of the shop and was about to get in his car, he heard giggling coming from up the street. Shutting the door, fixing his shirt collar slightly as he ran up the street and around a parked car to approach Lorraine from behind. Right then, remembering he'd be distracted, Old Biff walked around to the driver's side door. Finding it unlocked, he slowly sat himself down. He set his cane on the ground and got the almanac ready, taking the plastic bag and stuffing it into his shirt pocket. The book was now under the seat on the driver's side. This would be the time to know if his plan would work.