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In case you haven’t had a chance to look at any social media yet, let me catch you up to speed. In 1985’s “Back to the Future Part II,” Marty McFly and Doc travel to October 21, 2015 to save his unborn children. That means today is “Back to the Future” Day. But in the real today, there aren’t any flying cars or super hot robot prostitutes or any of that cool, stereotypical future shit. The real today is a world controlled by Apple and overzealous social justice warriors. Here’s what would happen if the movie portrayed a realistic, up-to-date, and politically correct October 21, 2015.
Doc and Marty lurched forward in their seats as the DeLorean screeched to a halt. Two streaks of flames burned on the pavement behind them.
“Aww shucks, doc. It didn’t work!” Marty exclaimed, pointing to a frat house across the street. “Ya see? Frat guys are wearing the same type of clothes as they were in 1985! That one’s even wearing a Ronald Reagan shirt.”
“No, Marty. It definitely worked. Look.”
Doc motioned down the street at a billboard that read: “Abortion is Murder.”
“Abortion is murder!? Golly, Doc. What if you bust your nut in a sloot and knock her up?”
“Ya gotta either wear a condom or pull out, Marty. Or she’s gotta take birth control.”
“Condoms! Gee wiz, Doc. I don’t know if I like the future.”
“It’s a scary place, kid. Now let’s go find your son.”
The zany duo got out of the DeLorean and walked down the sidewalk. They wove through throngs of people who had their heads down, staring at shiny square devices in their hands. Marty nudged Doc with his elbow and pointed to a woman walking in front of him.
“What is THAT?” Marty asked.
“Those, my boy, are what people in 2015 call yoga pants.”
Marty pushed ahead. He was about to tap the woman on the shoulder when Doc grabbed him.
“Hey! What gives, Doc?”
“You can’t just talk to a random woman you see on the street. This is 2015! You have to hope you get matched with her in a dating app, text each other for a while, then meet up and hope you still have a connection face-to-face.”
“I don’t understand a single word you just said.”
They continued to walk down the street while Doc filled in Marty on everything he’d missed the past three decades. Nirvana. AIM messaging. 9/11. Oprah. They made it about two blocks before Doc noticed Marty was missing.
Doc turned around and headed back down the street where he found Marty with his face pressed up against the window of an electronics store, staring at a big screen TV that was playing a music video of Madonna from the 1980s.
“Wow, Doc,” Marty said. “These big flat TVs make it seem like Madonna’s really there in front of me!”
“Yeah yeah yeah, just be happy you’re not looking at a high def video of 2015 Madonna,” Doc said with a shudder. “Now quit dickin’ around, Marty. Let’s go.”
“Sorry, Doc, guess I get a little ADD sometimes.”
Just then, a fat woman with a bowl cut tapped Marty furiously on the shoulder.
“Excuse me! Do you actually have Attention Deficit Disorder??”
“Oh, uuh, no ma’am. It’s just an expression.”
“Just an expre–” the woman was so angered, she stopped speaking mid-sentence to fan herself with her hand. “Attention Deficit Disorder is a serious learning disability that affects millions of Americans. Making light of it is NOT okay.”
The woman stormed off down the street. Doc grabbed Marty by the collar.
“You can’t be saying stuff like that, Marty! This is 2015! People stare at their phones and get offended by things. That’s just the way it is.”
“Well I think 2015 is FUCKING RETARDED!”
Suddenly, the bustle of people around them halted. Everyone looked up from the warm glow of their phones and stared at Doc and Marty.
“You don’t say that!” a voice called out.
“They’re just like you and me!” shouted another.
The crowd of people moved closer, surrounding them. Marty gulped.
“W-w-what do we do now?”
“We run, Marty.”
The pair elbowed through the swarm of offended people and took off. The crowd ran closely behind.
“Jesus, Doc! Isn’t there like a portable hoverboard or a flying car or something we can ride to get away from these people?”
“Hate to break it to ya, kid, but nope!”
Doc and Marty took a quick turn into a dark alleyway. They hugged the brick wall and watched the angry mob run past them.
“Phew. Close one,” Doc breathed.
“2015 sucks, Doc. Everyone gets outraged over the tiniest of things. There are no flying cars. Forget saving my son. Let’s just go back to 1985 so I can enjoy life before everything goes to hell.”
“Your call, Marty. But there is one thing about 2015 that’s pretty awesome.”
Doc pulled out an iPhone, typed a few keys, and handed it to Marty. Marty’s eyes widened.
“You can keep that.”
Doc turned the ignition. The DeLorean responded with a rattle and a sputtering sound.
“We’re outta fuel, Marty. Good thing this baby runs on garbage. You sit tight, I’ll go empty that trash can into the gas tank.”
Doc scooped up the trash bag, slung it over his shoulder, and made his way back to the DeLorean, which was shaking back and forth. Doc tapped on the window.
“Dammit, Marty. Wait ’til we get home before you look at that internet porn I showed you.”
Marty rolled down the window.
“I’m not, Doc. My body just shakes randomly sometimes. Don’t know why.”
“Yeesh, you should probably get that checked out.”
“Nah, I’ll be okay.”.
Image via YouTube