Marty: Too bad I didn't bring my camera.
There is a flash of light, and we see the PHOTOGRAPHER taking pictures of people beside the clock. Marty and Doc look at each other. Cut to in front of the clock a few seconds later.
Photographer: Ready, gentlemen?
Doc: (to Marty) The only problem is we'll never be able to show it to anybody.
Marty: Smile, Doc.
The picture is taken. We cut to the dance. There is a band there, who have a surprising resemblance to ZZTop! :-)
Band Member: Yee Har!
Music: Doubleback (Instrumental Version) by ZZTop
As the music begins, Doc and Marty again step back into the background of the festival.
Doc: What great music!
Marty: Yeah, it's got a beat and you can dance to it!
In the background the COLT GUN SALESMAN can be seen.
Colt Gun Salesman: Step right up, gentlemen, and test your mettle with the latest products from Colonel Samuel Colt's patent firearms of Hartford, Connecticut. Take this model for example.
As Marty turns to watch the gun demonstration, Doc wonders off.
Colt Gun Salesman: (continued) The new, improved and refined Colt Peacemaker. Available to you tonight for the low, low price of $12.
Doc spots Clara and smiles at her. She walks over to him.
Doc: Good evening.
Clara: Evening.
Doc: You look very - nice.
Clara: Thank you.
Doc looks at the festival for a few moments - he's very nervous - before turning back to Clara.
Doc: Would you like...uh...would you care to, uh...
Clara: I'd love to.
Doc and Clara start to dance. Cut to Marty, still watching the demonstration. The Colt Gun Salesman turns to Marty.
Colt Gun Salesman: Young man, want to give it a try?
Marty: No, no, thanks.
Marty turns to where Doc was standing earlier.
Marty: Hey Doc, this...
Of course, he notices Doc isn't there. He looks for his friend and spots him on the dance floor with Clara.
Colt Gun Salesman: (to Marty) Son! Sonny boy!
Oblivious to the Colt Gun Salesman, Marty carries on watching the dance.
Marty: The Doc can dance?!
Colt Gun Salesman: Son! Son! Son!
The Colt Gun Salesman nudges Marty's shoulder with the gun, and Marty turns around.
Colt Gun Salesman: Hey! I just told you that even a baby can handle this weapon. Surely you're not afraid to try something that a baby can do.
Marty: Hey, I'm not afraid of anything.
Colt Gun Salesman: Well then, step right up like a man.
He hands Marty a gun. Marty stands in front of an Old West Diorama - this is where he must shoot. It looks very similar to the Wild Gunman game Marty played (will play?) in the Cafe 80's in 2015.
Colt Gun Salesman: Now, what you do is just ease that hammer back there and squeeze off a round.
Marty points it to the diorama but shaking his head, the Colt Gun Salesman guides Marty's hand into position.
Colt Gun Salesman: No, no, no, right on out there and be real smooth. That's how you do it.
Marty shoots - and misses. Big time. The Colt Gun Salesman starts laughing.
Marty: Hey listen, can I try that again?
Colt Gun Salesman: Sure, go ahead.
The Colt Gun Salesman laughs again. Marty aims the gun, shoots - and hits a direct shot. He repeats this again a few more times. Everyone is amazed.
Colt Gun Salesman: Hey, just tell me one thing. Where'd you learn to shoot like that?
Marty: (seriously) 7 Eleven.
Cut to the entrance of the festival. Buford Tannen and his gang arrive on their horses.
Gang Member 1: Buford, you sure that blacksmith is gonna be at this here shindig?
Buford: Sure he's here. (darkly) Everybody's here tonight.
The DEPUTY MARSHALL arrives to check the visitors.
Deputy Marshall: You gentlemen are gonna have to check your firearms if you want to join in on the festivities.
Buford: (laughing) And who's gonna make us, tender-foot...you?
Marshall Strickland: (o.s) I am.
Buford (and the audience) turn to see MARSHALL STRICKLAND holding a rifle to Buford's shoulder. You guessed it, he's the grandfather of our very own Mr Strickland from 1955 and 1985.
Buford: Marshall Strickland. I didn't know you was back in town.
Marshall Strickland: If you can't read the sign, Tannen, I presume you can read this.
He means the rifle. Buford turns to him.
Buford: Pretty tough hombre when you're pointing a scattergun at a man's back.
Marshall Strickland: Just like you, Tannen, I take every advantage I can get. Now are you gonna check your irons?
Buford knows when he's beat, and backs down.
Buford: I was joking with your deputy. Of course I'm going to check my iron. We all were, weren't we boys?
They all give up their guns.
Deputy Marshall: Yeah. Right.
But Marshall Strickland obviously knows Buford a bit better than he wants to, because:
Marshall Strickland: Tannen - your knife, too.
Angry, Buford takes out the knife he's hidden in his boot. He throws it onto a nearby table as if it were a dart. He then turns to Marshall Strickland.
Buford: (being a bit of a smart ass) Smile, Marshall. After all, this is a party.
Marshall Strickland: The only party I'll be smiling at is the one that sees you at the end of a rope.
Buford and Marshall Strickland glare at each other before the Marshall lowers his gun. Buford and his gang are allowed in.
Deputy Marshall: Have fun!
A young boy is now seen next to Marshall Strickland. He's the Marshall's SON - the future father of Mr Strickland.
Marshall Strickland: That's how you handle them son, never give them an inch. Maintain discipline at all times. Remember that word. Discipline.
Son: I will, Pa.
Cut to the dance. At the table, Marty is eating some pie when Seamus, Maggie and William walk
