Doc: Brace yourself, Marty. When this baby hits 88 miles per hour… You’re going to see some serious shit.
Police: Doctor Emmett Brown; stop the vehicle. We have reason to believe you have stolen nuclear materials on board.
Doc: Holy shit, Marty! Get in!
Marty: Woah, Doc. What’s going on?
Doc: Come on, just get it. That’s it. Let’s get out of here.
Police: Pull the vehicle over, or we will be forced to open fire.
Marty: Doc, what’s going on? Stop!
Doc: We can make it, boy. We can make it to 88.
Marty: They’re blocking us in! Pull the fucking car over, what’s wrong with you?
Police: I repeat: Pull over or we are authorised to use deadly means.
Doc: Here we go. We can make it.
Marty: Doc! We’re going to crash into them! Fuck! Stop the fucking car; what are you, fucking insane!?
Police: Open fire, men!
Doc: Marty! Wake up!
Marty: W-w-what…? Where…? A-are we d-dead?
Doc: No. We’re in 1955.
Marty: Oh my god… You’re kidding. You must be.
Doc: Yeah, sorry. We’re in prison. We didn’t make it. Also you lost a leg.
Marty: … I… I what…?
Doc: Heavy, right?