him in like that?
- He's such a strange young man.
- Aye, but I've just got a feeling about him.
Looking after him is the right thing to do.
That's important.
MARTY: Hey, buddy.
Look how the baby takes to him.
Little Will never takes to strangers.
It's almost as if he's connected to us.
MARTY: Hey, Will.
So you're my great-grandfather.
The first McFly born in America.
[Sound of trickling]
And you peed on me.
[Marty panting]
[Whistling]
[Dramatic instrumental music]
[Chickens clucking]
MAN 1: Give us some soap.
MAN 2: Here you go.
[Piano music plays]
[Heavy thudding]
[Horse snorts]
[Donkey braying]
[Gun fires]
Take a look and see
what just breezed in the door.
I didn't know the circus was in town.
Must have got that shirt off a dead Chinese.
[Men laughing]
[Spits]
What will it be, stranger?
I'll have...
MARTY: Ice water.
OLD MAN: Ice water?
[Men laughing]
BARMAN: Water?
You want water, you better dunk your head
in the horse trough out there.
In here, we pour whiskey.
- Excuse me.
- For what?
MARTY: I'm trying to find a blacksmith.
TANNEN: Hey, McFly!
Thought I told you never to come in...
You ain't Seamus McFly.
You look like him, though,
especially with that dog-ugly hat.
[All laughing]
You kin to that hay barber?
- What's your name, dude?
- Marty...
Eastwood.
Clint Eastwood.
[Laughing]
- What kind of stupid name is that?
- He's the runt of the litter.
Boys, would you look-see
at these pearly whites?
I ain't seen teeth that straight
that weren't store-bought.
Take a gander at them moccasins.
What kind of skins is them?
THUG 1: What's that writing mean?
THUG 2: "Nike"? Is that Indian talk?
[Laughing]
Bartender, I'm looking for that no-good,
cheating blacksmith.
- You seen him?
- No, sir, Mr. Tannen. I have not.
Tannen.
You're Mad Dog Tannen.
TANNEN: "Mad Dog"?
I hate that name.
I hate it, you hear?
Nobody calls me "Mad Dog"!
Especially not some duded-up,
egg-sucking gutter trash.
Dance! Come on!
TANNEN: Come on, runt!
You can dance better than that!
Shit.
[Marty whoops]
[Grunts]
- You better run, squirrel.
- Get him!
[Dramatic instrumental music]
[Women shrieking]
[Marty shouts]
[Marty screaming]
[Thugs whooping gleefully]
TANNEN: We got ourselves a new courthouse.
It's high time we had a hanging!
[Cheering]
[Marty grunting]
[Gagging]
[Thugs cheering]
THUG 1: Look at him sway.
TANNEN:
Yeah, haven't had a hanging in a long time!
DOC: I shoot the fleas off a dog's back
at 500 yards, Tannen...
...and it's pointed at your head!
TANNEN: You owe me money, blacksmith.
DOC: How do you figure?
My horse threw a shoe.
You done the shoeing,
so that makes you responsible.
Since you never paid me for the job,
I'd say that makes us even.
Wrong!
I was on my horse when it happened,
and I got throwed off!
That caused me to bust a perfectly
good bottle of fine Kentucky redeye.
The way I figure it, blacksmith,
you owe me $5 for the whiskey...
...and $75 for the horse!
That's the $80.
If your horse threw a shoe,
bring him back and I'll reshoe him.
I shot that horse!
- That's your problem, Tannen.
- Wrong. That's yours.
From now on,
you better be looking behind you when you walk.
Because one day you're gonna get
a bullet in your back.
Doc!
Marty, I gave you explicit instructions
not to come here...
... but to go directly back to 1985.
I know, but I had to come.
It's good to see you, Marty.
DOC: You've got to do something
about those clothes.
- Dressed like that, you're liable to get shot.
- Or hanged.
DOC: What idiot dressed you in that outfit?
You did.
DOC: "Shot in the back by Buford Tannen
over a matter of $80"?
"September 7"?
That's this Monday!
Now I wish I'd paid him off.
Who's this "beloved Clara"?
I don't know anyone named Clara.
I don't know, Doc.
I thought maybe she was a