Having recently reviewed the surveillance footage of the events of the night you went back to 1985, I couldn’t help but be slightly taken aback by your spurious reasoning of only allowing TEN FUCKING MINUTES to SAVE MY GODDAMN LIFE. Ten minutes??? Really. You actually thought that you could get from the Courthouse to Twin Pines Mall (I’m sorry, I mean LONE Pine Mall now–way to run over a tree, fucknut) in ten minutes. What the fuck did you think that could accomplish? What were you going to do? Vanquish the Libyans with your shortness? Yeah, I said it. YOU’RE TINY. Like Ratatouille (2008 reference), but in a puffy vest . Listen, you little feathered-haired leprechaun, any one of these Hill Valley MOUTH-BREATHERS would have had the good sense to go back, oh I don’t know, AT LEAST A DAY to give me time to prepare for the Middle East extremists and their Summer of Love van of fucking DEATH, what with having a device that has mastered the dimension of TIME and all. And I’m INCLUDING Biff in that group. You are goddamn lucky that I have a compulsive disorder when it comes to taping paper back together. Otherwise you’d have been as useless as Einstein with a Vernier caliper. Mark my words, Stuart Little, as SOON as I get this DeLorean up and running again (thanks for turning my car into a fucking lightning rod, BTW) I SWEAR I am going to go back and convince Jennifer to dump your Hobbit ass so you can go on that dumbshit camping trip ALONE with nothing to do but jam your little meerkat penis into that extra sleeping bag in the back of your gaywad new truck. Then I’m going to fuck her into tomorrow…LITERALLY. How long am I going to tap that skinny bitch? “Ten minutes oughta do it!” You vapid douche.
Thanks for watching me get shot twice,
PS – You’re a fucking CHICKEN.