Part One (633 KB) - Whoa is (Not)

They wandered around the house, then went down the driveway and wandered around the street.
Eventually, their wanders took them to the Hill Valley town square, where they looked up in appreciation
at the clock tower above the court house.
“That is one outstanding clock,” Bill said.
“Yeah,” Ted said. “I wonder why it’s not moving.”
His question was answered a second later when a middle-aged woman eagerly shoved a donation can
into their faces and nearly took Ted’s eye out.
“Save the Clocktower!” she exclaimed with a little too much enthusiasm, rattling the can with vigour and
possibly murderous intent. “Thirty years ago, lightning struck that clock tower, and it hasn’t run since!”
she recited for the umpteenth time, excited at finally getting to see two newcomers who didn’t avoid her
like everyone else did. “We at the Hill Valley Preservation Society...”
“How would giving money help to save that clock, dude” Ted asked Bill in a whisper. “It’s been
wrecked for thirty years.”
“Perhaps they intend to purchase a new one,” Bill said, somewhat doubtfully.
“But that won’t be saving it,” Ted replied. “If they were going to get a new one, she would have said,
‘Replace the Clocktower’.”
“Good observation, Ted.”
They looked thoughtfully at the donation can.
The clock tower woman was not used to this. Most of the time, people just threw in a coin or two into
the donation can to get her to leave.
“Oh, forget it,” she muttered, and left to terrorise some other poor unsuspecting individuals.
The two teens stared after her, confused. They soon gave up trying to figure her out, and settled for
trudging despondently around the Hill Valley pond and musing about their lack of future as was
represented by their inability to play guitar.
**
19 th December 1985, Thursday
Hill Valley, California
“Okay,” Marty said, the tension evident in his voice as he paced around the other three members of his
band. “This is it. We’ve practised hard, so let’s just try not to lose too badly today.”
“What happened to ‘If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything’” J.J. asked. “Oh, and the
earmuff thing didn’t work. I tried distributing some to the judges just now but they didn’t fall for it.”
Steve snorted. “That’s because they were fluffy and pink.”
“Yeah, well, that’s all the store had,” J.J. retorted. “All the other colours had been sold out. And sit
down, Marty. You’re making me dizzy.”
Marty continued feeling stressed and walking in circles around them when two young teenagers entered
into the area, eyes searching the floor for something. J.J. nudged Nick. “The Disaster Area lackeys are
here,” he muttered.
Marty looked up at the newcomers. “Yeah What d’you want”
“Ivan said he dropped one of his drumsticks back here somewhere, and that he’d most appreciate it if
we went to look for it,” Bill said.
Ted squatted down and picked up the wooden stick lying on the floor. “It’s here, dude,” he called out to
his friend.
“Oh.” Bill smiled at Marty, then left with Ted.