Disenchantment || Marty Mcfly X Reader

Part 19: A Distant Relative

Hello, yes. My exams are over and I'm pretty sure I failed the one about my own language so hey, let's continue the fic!

The fact that neither of the two Biffs fainted pissed me off. That plot hole kept me up for hours when I first watched the films just to try and make it make sense. So I'm changing their entire interaction. I'm sorry if that's not okay with you. :/

Future Biff will be henceforth referred to as "Old Man." :)

Next Update: Next week
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(I'm not a hundred perfent sure I edited this but I'll be re-editing the whole book after film 3 anyways :/)

Marty frowned, watching you walk up to the kids who were staring at your arm in awe.

He just wanted you to stay close so he could keep an eye on you.

But, you were just too nice.

He wasn't complaining. That was one of the things he loved about you. You could be broke and still spare a couple of dollars for a homeless person.

He just wished you'd spare something for yourself too.

With a heavy sigh, Marty looked ahead and rushed after Biff.

He followed him into town, hiding behind the cars parked along the front of the shops. Biff walked confidently crossing the street to retrieve his car from a man in a hat. "Looking good, Terry," He greeted.

The man turned around to acknowledge him. "Hey, Biff. She's all fixed up just like new," Terry told him before going to his truck to take out a notebook. "But I-I couldn't get her started. You got some kind of kill switch on this thing?" He asked.

Biff shook his head. "No, you just gotta have the right touch..." He began to climb into the vehicle. "Nobody can start this car but me."

Terry used a pen to point out what he'd recorded in his ledger. "Yeah the bill comes at 302 dollars and 57 cents-"

"Three hundred bucks?!" Biff objected, hopping out of the car and slamming the door shut. "Three hundred bucks for a couple of dents? No, hey, that's bullshit, Terry!"

Terry fumed and pointed the pen at the young man's face. "No, Biff, it was horse shit! The whole car was full of it! We had to pay Old Man Jones 80 bucks to haul it away.!"

"Old Man Jones probably resold it too!" Biff argued. "Now I ought to 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-"

"It's three hundred bucks, Terry! If I catch the guy that caused this, I'll break his neck!" 

The two men continued to argue on their way into the shop across the street, fully unaware of the seventeen-year-old hopping under a swampy-green sheet in the back of Biff's car.

Biff came back out a minute later, followed by an upset looking Terry still yelling at him. "Four cans for a three hundred dollar job?" Biff complained.

"I can't even have lunch in the shop! This makes me nauseous!" Terry cut in.

"I should get a whole case of oil out of you for a three hundred buck job!" Biff yelled back, grabbing the cans from Terry and dropping them one by one in the back, hitting Marty in the crotch with a thud. 

Their arguing carried on, overlapping each other and harshly pointing at the other's face.

"This is the last time I do you a favour! Last time!" Terry stormed away.