Chapter Text
[INT. BACK ROOM, CLAYTON VIDEO.]
Marty sits alone, elbows on a table, fiddling with his hands as he waits for something, or someone. The space he's in is rather small, and only lit dimly — a clock is TICKING on the wall behind him, right above the door...
…The door OPENS — in comes who Marty was waiting for:
VERNE BROWN-CLAYTON, 20s, a fella who looks just as groovy as he does weird. He wears a blue vest, and an old coonskin cap over shaggy blonde frost tipped hair.
He pulls back a chair to take a seat across from Marty — the legs SCRATCHING against wood.
On his vest, a name-tag reads ‘VERN-O'
...Marty's not gonna call him that, is he?
Verne doesn't look like someone who would be conducting a job interview, but Marty doesn't look like someone you would want at a job interview.
VERNE
Nice to meet you…
(Reaches out hand)
...Again.
Marty’s quick with greeting him, again, taking Verne's hand and shaking it around awkwardly — fire alarm ink spreads.
MARTY
So, uh…
(Lets go)
…Are you the only person who works here?
Verne takes a look at the new purple gunk covering his hand, his mouth growing into a grin out of pure amusement.
VERNE
I guess you can say that, yeah.
Marty nods along, though not entirely sure what the implications of that “I guess” are.
VERNE
Alright, alright, alright…
(You would expect him to pull out a clipboard, but nothing)
...First things first, name?
MARTY
(Shifts uncomfortably)
Marie Baines-McFly…
Verne's head falls — he smirks to himself like the answer he just heard was absolutely ridiculous, and that's true. The name doesn't quite fit Marty's appearance, it doesn't fit him at all.
VERNE
(Holds back a chuckle)
How did you hear about us…
(Tries sounding more professional)
…How did you hear about this opening?
MARTY
Y'know… Around school... I heard about it around school.
VERNE
(Not guessing, he knows)
You want a way out of detention.
Marty tries to speak up and claim something else, only to nod once again, this time in shame. He feels so humiliated—
VERNE
Hey, it's all good, man! Why would I care?
—That makes Marty smile.
VERNE
Do you have any…
(Thinks wording over)
…Do you have any prior work experience that you would consider helpful in this job?
MARTY
I, uh…
Verne can tell Marty's having some struggle, he remains patient throughout.
MARTY
When my older sister… Half-sister… When my half-sister lived here, she, uh… She worked at the salon… If I was ever down there, I would help her sweep up the hair…
VERNE
(Nodding along)
Solid… Solid.
MARTY
...I liked it, I think...
(Points at Verne's hat)
...Is that made out of… Is that made outta real fur?
VERNE
Nope!
Verne puts his hands up in the air. It's all humorously exaggerated, as if Marty’s got a gun pointed at him.
VERNE
Faux! My mom is a strict vegetarian.
MARTY
Okay, that's cool… I don't think I would have a problem with it… It being real... Being real fur, I mean… But my best friend, she loves animals… So I don't wanna, uh...
VERNE
Do you have any other skills you would consider useful?
MARTY
(Takes another moment)
…I don't know.
Verne SLAMS his hand down on the table and stands up — he is ECSTATIC.
VERNE
PERFECT!
IMMEDIATE CUT TO:
[INT. MAIN ROOM, CLAYTON VIDEO.]
The Clash's ‘SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO’ can be heard playing from speakers — BACK ROOM'S DOOR OPENS.
Marty and Verne enter the much larger, but still rather quaint, area.
Marty’s got on a new purple sun visor, with a purple vest under his jacket to match. They could use some decoration, but right now he looks completely satisfied with life.
Him and Verne walk past one of many short shelves lined up with VHS tapes in well loved sleeves — this is the ‘SCIENCE FICTION’ section. Marty can't help trailing off, looking at some titles: ‘Empire Strikes Back,’ ‘Weird Science,’ ‘Donnie Darko.’ WOW, he's gonna have to come back to some of these!
VERNE
Think you can come in tomorrow?
MARTY
Yeah, sure…
VERNE
Don't got detention?
MARTY
…No.
Verne can tell that Marty is, very clearly, lying — it makes them both smile.
MARTY
Do you think, uh…
(Looking up)
…You think I can pick some of the music?
“SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO NOW?”
— Mick Jones.
VERNE
No… Actually…
(Thinks about it more)
…Maybe. We'll talk about it, alright—
UNKNOWN [V.O.]
(Muffled by glass)
HEY, BROWN-CLAYTON!
MUSIC STOPS — Verne whips his head to the source of this voice, Marty does the same.
The expression on Verne's face changes into something rare… Well, rare for him: Tiredness.
VERNE
Oh, God…
[INT. CLAYTON VIDEO, FRONT — SUN IS ABOUT TO SET.]
The voice belongs to BIFF TANNEN… JUNIOR, 20s, a beefy guy with a light brown buzz-cut. Him and Verne seem to know each other.
He's standing in front of a large window pane, trying to get some attention.
[INT. MAIN ROOM, CLAYTON VIDEO.]
VERNE
(Annoyed)
OH, GODD…
Marty looks at Verne. He seems somewhat familiar with Junior, when you live in Hill Valley you have to know a Tannen or two.
MARTY
What's his problem?
VERNE
In general? Who even knows…
He approaches the store's front, almost stomping towards it.
Marty, now alone and sure he'll go unnoticed, takes two tapes, quickly. He slips them into his oversized pockets — the tapes hide perfectly.
[EXT. CLAYTON VIDEO, FRONT.]
ON WINDOW
Marty runs up, needing to catch his breath as he tries to stand still next to Verne.
VERNE
(Muffled)
WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?
Junior pulls out a receipt —
[INT. CLAYTON VIDEO, FRONT.]
— he SLAMS it flat against the glass.
Marty squints so he can read it, but he doesn't see what's supposed to be wrong.
JUNIOR
WHAT THE HELL'D YOU CHARGE ME MORE FOR?
VERNE
YOU'VE BEEN COMPLAINING ABOUT THIS SINCE MY DAD WAS ALIVE…
[EXT. CLAYTON VIDEO, FRONT.]
VERNE
…JUST REWIND THE TAPE!
Junior and Verne continue arguing, close and angry enough for glass to fog up.
A silver Porsche PULLS IN and PARKS — it's a little beat up, the door SWINGS open with little to no force.
Exiting the car is TIFFANY TANNEN, late 30s, Junior's sister and a woman who resembles Tonya Harding. She wears a jacket matching her car in color and dark circles around her eyes, it's unclear if it's make-up or a lack of sleep.
Tiff MARCHES towards Junior — she's furious, almost more annoyed than Verne.
She taps on his shoulder, making him turn around.
Another fight starts, almost immediately —
JUNIOR
What the hell do you want?
— It's really nothing new.
ON WINDOW
Now uninvolved, Verne watches with boredom, while Marty watches with some strange investment.
[INT. CLAYTON VIDEO, FRONT.]
Tiff finds an opportunity to grab Junior's ear and TUG — she's stronger than the puffy jacket makes her appear, or maybe Junior’s just weaker than he looks.
He HOLLERS as she starts to drag him towards her car.
Tiff catches Marty’s gaze through the glass. They know each other, much more than Junior knows Marty, and in a much more positive way than how Verne knows Junior.
She's got a kind of surprised look on her face, like she never expected to see Marty with an actual job. It’s a little nice to see him, and out doing something different.
MARTY
You'd never guess that she's the nicer one...
Tiff PULLS OPEN the passenger door — she lets go of Junior's ear, tossing him in. She SLAMS the door back SHUT, then makes her way back over to the driver's side, still marching.
VERNE
Nicer to you, maybe…
The Porsche DRIVES OFF.
VERNE
…You're not some menace… I bet you rewind…
Marty stuffs his hands into his pockets.
MARTY
(Shuffles around awkwardly)
…I, uhm… I babysit her kid sometimes…
VERNE
Really?
MARTY
Yeah…
VERNE
(Genuinely Curious)
She pay well?
MARTY
It's really the least I can do... She used to give me guitar lessons…
VERNE
Sweet.
MARTY
…Also I don't ask for money, I ask for pot.
Verne looks at Marty, his face now tinges with concern.
VERNE
…Dude.
MARTY
(Looking back)
What? You don't—
VERNE
NO!
MARTY
Huh…
(Goes back to the window)
…That's good.