3:30 PM.

After the three-hour meeting (two of which seemed to consist of insults and lame jokes), George had a tired day already. Once he finished his lunch at a nearby Denny's, everything was pretty much normal at work. In fact, by now, it had slowed enough for him to work on some papers that he seemed to be pretty secretive about.

There was a big zombie from Planet Vulcan. He was about 7 feet tall with a skinny exterior. His spaceship landed here on Earth out in the desert, near area 51.

At that instant, he was suddenly interrupted by a knock on his office door. He grabbed the papers, quickly opened up a drawer and shoved them in. Running to the door, he said, "What, who is it?"

A happy-yet-nerdy voice came from the other side. "Oh, don't worry, George it's just me. Hey, there's someone here with me to see you. I think she made an appointment yesterday." As he walked away, he continued, "I think she made an appointment."

"I'm, I'm sorry, Lester I just forgot. There was just something else I was working on that I got into. I'm done with it now. You can send her in."

At the time, George's co-worker and former classmate, Lester, showed her in, before going back to his own office.

"Good afternoon, Mr. McFly. Remember I called yesterday?"

George pretended to know what she meant as he looked down and paced around his desk. "Oh, yeah, about your loan."

The woman was Shirley Peabody, daughter of successful farmer and pine tree grower, Otis. "That's right. I'm going to be moving to the city soon, and I need a home loan of $1,000."

That sounded like a large amount of money to George, even though he had more than that. "Oh, that's a lot."

Shirley inquired, "Oh, is it a problem, sir?"

Even if it were, George would never directly say it. He wouldn't put his foot down with anyone, even if they were wrong. That's why he was glad he wasn't in any authoritive position at work. "No, no, there's no problem at all. I was just commenting on that money. I wish I had that much to spend sometimes."

The mood was lightened a little bit now, so the somewhat younger blonde began to relax, even though she thought this guy was a major geek from all she'd heard. "I know how you feel, George. You don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

"Of course not, now, I don't mind you calling me that."

He was uncomfortable as usual now. He didn't like dealing with problems of any kind, especially with people he didn't know. It didn't help either, that he was a little attracted to Ms. Peabody. To this day, he'd become a nervous wreck easily. Just the fact that she was being remotely friendly on a personal basis was enough. It hadn't changed much through the years, either. When he met Lorraine a few months before he turned 18, it had been the first time he even dated. This quick jump had an effect on him, even at this point in his life.

Shirley smiled and then sighed in bewilderment. George was just sitting at his desk, lost in thought and half laughing to himself. She had to break the ice again. "Hmmmmmm, so George, you worked here long?"

Doing his best, George came back to reality and sputtered, "Uh, sort of, I think. It's about to be 13 years. I started on March 15th, 1973. I don't mind it so much. It's the same as any other job," George himself even knew that he wasn't going to be very good at smalltalk. In an effort to take his mind off it, he went back to business. "I guess your credit history is pretty good," he said, hoping that was the case.

"Oh, never had a bad credit report in my life," she perked, sounding and looking much younger than her 39 years might indicate. "You can check. My husband and I are in the process of moving, and we should be able to pay it back within a few months. He's a struggling musician. 10 years younger than me."

That gave George another thing to discuss. "A Musician? You know, my son Marty is in a rock band with some of his good friends from school."

"That's interesting. Those two would probably get along."

"That's not hard to believe. Marty is very uncertain of playing for an audience, though. He sings and can play guitar fairly good, but he worries not everyone might like it. Or, what if he makes it big and MTV doesn't play him as much as somebody else?"

Sensing that George's personality traits might be carrying over to his seemingly much cooler son, she frowned. "Your son will just have to keep playing, like my man did, and still does." Wanting to get out of there as soon as possible, she now got straight to the point. "Now look, I can give you collateral. Will that be necessary?"

"Collateral, you're asking? No, I don't think so. I trust that your credit is okay. You said you'd pay it back, and that should be alright."

After filling out a few papers, Shirley tried to be as enthusiastic as possible. Shaking his hand, she said, "George, it was nice meeting you. I'll have the money for you soon, thanks for everything."

George managed to mutter an "Okay, goodbye," as she left.

…..

3:45 P.M.

Biff had to come into George's office, just as he was beginning to relax again, opening the door without knocking, as usual. "McFly, my car is in the shop, so I'm takin' yours tonight. Gonna be going out with the guys, I'll drop it off either tonight or tomorrow morning."

George agreed, although with some inner reluctance. "Uh, well, okay Biff, the keys are in the upper-right drawer."

As he opened it, he noticed some random papers with George's writing clearly on them. "What's this stuff here?"

George got worried. He knew he'd never have the confidence to even politely ask Biff to stop, let alone demand it. However, he didn't want anyone, particularly Biff, looking at his Science Fiction stories. That had been a secret interest of his since he was in Junior High. He also knew if anyone was going to make fun of them, it would be Biff.

"What do you even got on here? These ain't my reports, but I know it's your writing."

Squeamishly, he managed a response. "Well, Biff, I was just writing some random thoughts down on paper. It was from some new TV show that Dave was watching the other night. I don't know, I forgot about it until now." He didn't know what Biff would say or if he'd buy it. He had somewhat surprised even himself by making a quick fib comeback like that. He had seen Marty do it so much, though.

"It sounds like a weird show, whatever it is. I kinda wonder about Area 51. Those government buttheads might know about aliens, but if they did, they're not gonna tell us. Not unless someone goes to Washington and gives 'em all a good knuckle sandwich anyway," he said, in typical Biff fashion, not remembering Area 51 was in New Mexico.

Hearing the jangle of keys in his hand, Biff suddenly remembered why he originally came in. "Well, it's Friday night, time for me to get loaded now! If Strickland asks where I am, either say you don't know, or make something up. See you later, McFly."

He said he would. Relieved that he got away with Biff seeing his stories, George stopped to think about how he was going to get home. He obviously wasn't going to walk over eight miles along a partially narrow road. He wasn't sure what time the bus was scheduled to come either. He contemplated asking someone for a ride, but was too afraid they would be busy and/or say no. He still hated rejections like that, so he just as soon not ask. Strangely enough, he had become more independent that way. Although still not sure if Lorraine would be mad, and not wanting to find out, he thought he had no choice but to call home.

…..

Back at the McFly's house, Lorraine had just put the finishing touches on Joey's cake. The kids helped her put the decorations and frosting on, although with some reluctance. She was disappointed that Marty wasn't there to help, but he almost always came home later than he could have. Must be with weird scientist, or that bad influence of a girlfriend, Jennifer, she thought this as she took another sip of Vodka while watching TV in the living room.

Dave was busy in his room. He wanted to relax a little before his part-time evening shift at Burger King started. He had his driver's license, but didn't have a car at the moment, so he loved reading every new issue of Motor Trade. On his bed, half-awake, he started flipping through the pages. Much like his dad, he started laughing out loud for no reason at times. On this occasion, it was when he came across an article about the engine power of an '82 Chevy Caprice.

"Ha ha ha. Caprice has got more than that! Only 100 horsepower, no way, man!"

Linda was occupied as well. This was usually the case, seeing as she lately stayed home most of the time, or went out with some random guy. Right now, she was sitting on the floor fiddling with hair-curlers and simultaneously taking a quiz in Seventeen Magazine, entitled, Are you jealous that your female friend is with the guy you really want? As of now, every single answer was pointing to a Yes. At that exact second, the phone rang. Lost in the quiz, she was startled and loudly called out, "Mom! Dave! Would somebody get the phone, I don't want to!"

Lorraine just said, "I'm busy, honey. David is resting, just get it, okay, please!"

Linda bookmarked the current page and quickly reached up, "Yeah, what," she said, extremely unexcited and almost mad.

"Oh, hey Linda, it's me," George said weakly and quietly.

Already sensing something was up, in a very deadpan manner, she asked, "Well, what's going on now? Where are you dad?"

"At the bank right now. You see what happened is Biff borrowed the car from me just a few minutes ago."

Linda was continuously being astonished at how wimpy he was. She understood why Marty could be so ashamed of him. "Not him again. Why won't that weirdo just take somebody else's car? He should take Lester's or something. He'd tell Biff okay twice in a row."

At that mention, George began to break into his all too common laughing fit. Even he never quite knew why Lester repeated himself a lot. "Ha ha ha, you're right. I think he would maybe do that."

The slight laugh on the other end of the line turned to an embarrassing look of disgust. Desperate to change the subject, she asked, "How did that meeting or whatever it was go this morning?"

At least it went better than it started, in George's mind. "Uh, I suppose it went okay. Strickland talked to all of us about our job performances, and what we're going to get paid. He also talked about our finances and what we should do about it. I forgot all of what it was, by now though. I'll, I just will have to ask him again on Monday. He was kind of angry at all of us this morning."

Linda shrugged. "Dang, that guy is just like his brother from school."

He remembered back to high school, when the ever-ubiquitous Vice Principal would berate him and almost anyone else over small things. He had a constant reminder of that at work every day. "Yeah, they are brothers, so that's why they much act similar to how the other one does."

Seeing that not every conversation between him and his daughter went peachy, yet this one seemed at least okay, George shifted gears and asked what he'd originally wanted to. "Look, I have to ask you about mom. Is she still mad at me over what happened this morning?"

Most of the time, Linda sided with her mom. As everyone else though, she wasn't too crazy about Uncle Joey staying over. She wished her dad could just talk to her normally and not be so afraid of her. "Mom's not mad at you, dad. She just wants Joey to stay at the house. I'm not really in the mood to see him, so I'm just gonna stay in here."

"I suppose I agree with you. I don't have a lot in common with Joey either," George said, then asking for what he had called for in the first place. "Well, since mom isn't mad at me, could you ask if she could pick me up here? As long as she doesn't mind coming out in rush hour traffic."

Suddenly, being sort of glad that was all it was, she somewhat blandly said, "Yeah, I'll go tell her. She ain't gonna be any more mad than this morning though. She already baked Joey that welcoming cake. I'll get mom. I guess I'll just see you when you get home."

Hoping for the best, George simply said, "Okay I'll see you, bye."

Begrudgingly, Linda put the magazine down and went towards the master bedroom. "Mom, that was dad on the phone!"

"What did he want, honey?"

"Biff borrowed his car, and now he needs a ride home. Can you go get him? I can't because I got that speeding ticket and if I get stopped again, that's really gonna suck!"

Dave overheard this and spoke up. "Geez, Biff! That dude is such a loser, and he's coming over here all the time. Can't he just go easy on dad, he's such a prick!"

"Don't talk like that, David. He's not my favorite person in the world either, but he is your father's supervisor. Now, you have to be at work in a couple hours, so why don't you just rest here and I'll go out."