When the Clock Strikes Twelve

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   "Buford Tannen was a notorious gunman whose short temper and a tendency to drool earned him the nickname Mad Dog'," Marty read from an old book.

   "He was quick on the trigger and bragged that he had killed twelve men, not including Indians or Chinamen," Rosie continued.

   "Does it mention me?" Doc asked from across the room.

   "Just a minute," Rosie said, raising her index finger. "However, this claim cannot be substantiated, since precise records were not kept after Tannen shot a newspaper editor who printed an unfavorable story about him in 1984."

   "So that's why we can't find anything," Marty clarified. They stood in the middle of a dark library.

"Look!" Doc exclaimed, bringing a picture closer to the teenagers. "William McFly and family. Your relatives?"

"My great-grandfather's name was William," Marty said, pointing at a man. "That's him."

"Good looking guy," Rosie said. They closed the book to reveal the words A History of Hill Valley.

"McFlys, but no Browns," Doc said solemnly.

"Maybe it was a mistake Doc," Marty said. "Maybe that grave wasn't yours. There could've been another Emmett Brown back in 1885."

"No," Doc said absentmindedly, flipping through papers and books.

"It isn't likely sweetheart," Rosie continued.

"Did you have any relatives here back then?" Marty asked.

"The Browns didn't come to Hill Valley until 1908," he clarified. "Then they were the Von Brauns. My father changed our name during the First World War."

Rosie curiously moved a piece of paper, only to reveal a picture of the Doc. "Guys, look," she said, showing the picture.

"Great Scott!" Doc exclaimed. "It's me! Then it is true. All of it. It is me who goes back there and... and gets shot."

   "It's not gonna happen Doc. After you fix the time circuits and put new tires on the DeLorean, Rosie and I are goin' back to 1885, and we're bringing you home," Marty said.

   "You could get hurt," Doc said.

   "When has fear ever stopped us before?" Rosie said. They brought the DeLorean to an abandoned area of land.

   "Do the clothes fit?" Doc called out.

   "Everything except for the boots, Doc. They're kinda tight!" Marty called out.

   "I think I'm good!" Rosie yelled.

   "Are you sure this stuffs authentic?" Marty called out.

   "Of course! Haven't you ever seen a western?" Doc asked.

The two walked out of separate spaces, and looked at each other. They both made eye contact and Marty shook his head.

   "Yeah we have Doc," Rosie said, embarrassed about her outfit. She took a look at Marty's outfit and began to laugh.

   "Clint Eastwood never wore anything like this," Marty said. "At least Rosie's colors match."

   "This is possibly the ugliest thing I've ever worn," Rosie said, gesturing to her brown dress that stuck out in the back.

   "You look good in anything Rosie," Marty said. She smiled widely and him.

   "Thanks," she said. They noticed Doc begin to run over to them.

   "Clint who?" Doc asked.

   "That's right. You haven't heard of him yet," Marty said, carrying his boots and walking over to the car.

   "Marty you have to wear the boots," Doc said obviously. "You can't wear those futuristic things back in 1885. You shouldn't even be wearing them in 1955!"

   "Alright Doc as soon as I get there I'll put them on," Marty said. "I promise."

   "I'll make sure of it Doc," Rosie clarified.

   "Okay. I think we're about ready! I put gas in the tank. Your future clothes are packed. Just in case, fresh batteries for your walkie talkies. Oh, what about that floating device?"

   "Hoverboard," Marty corrected.

   "Right here," Rosie said, grabbing it in her hands,

   "Oh, right," Doc said.

   "Ya know Doc, it's gonna be a hell of a long walk back o Hill Valley from here," Rosie said, gesturing to her dress.

   "Still the safest plan," Doc said, slamming the trunk door shut. "We can't risk sending you both back into a populated area or to a spot that's geographically unknown. You don't want to crash into some tree that once existed in the past." He began to run. "This is all completely open country, so you'll have plenty of runoff space when you arrive. Remember, where you are going there are no roads. There's a small cave over there which will be a perfect place to hide the time vehicle."

   "Got it," Rosie said, crossing her arms and nodding.

   "Well, the new time circuits control tubes are warmed up?" Doc said. He opened the DeLorean door and sat in t he car, turning on the time circuits. "Time circuits on. I wrote the letter on September 1. We'll send you both back the next day September 2. That's a Wednesday. September 2, 1885, 8:00 a.m. I get shot on Monday the 7th, so you'll have five days to locate me. According to my letter, I'm a blacksmith, so I probably have a shop somewhere."

   "So all we have to do is drive the DeLorean directly towards that screen, accelerating to 88 miles per hour?" Rosie said scientifically, and Marty looked at her impressed. She shrugged her shoulders. "What? I pay attention."

   "Precisely Rosie!" Doc exclaimed.

   "Wait a minute, Doc. "If we drive straight towards the screen, We're gonna crash into those Indians," Marty said.

   "Marty you're not thinking fourth dimensionally," Doc said. "You'll instantly be transported to 1885, and those Indians won't even be there."

   "Right," Marty said, and Rosie shook her head with a small smile.

   "Well- good luck to the both of you. See you in the future," Doc said.

   "You mean the past," Rosie said.

   "Exactly!" Doc exclaimed enthusiastically. Marty and Rosie tossed their stuff into the DeLorean. Marty sat down in the front, pulling the door down.

   "Catch ya later Doc," Rosie said with a confident smile, before sitting in the other seat.

   "Ready?" Marty asked the girl. She nodded.

   "Born ready," she replied. They pulled back towards the exit sign, ready for takeoff.

   "Ready!" Doc exclaimed.

   "Ready!" The two yelled from the car.

   "Set!" Doc said, looking at his watch, holding a gun to the air.

   "Hi-yo, silver," Marty said to himself, holding onto the wheel. Rosie pulled the stick backwards and the engine revved. Doc suddenly shot a bullet into the air, and Marty stepped onto the gas. The car drove forward, and a light surrounded their view.