I was going over some old Microsoft Word files I have in my archives. I wrote a poem a few years ago based on the point of view of the Libyans who caused all that trouble for Marty in the original ”Back to the Future.” Now, I realize joking about terrorists is still somewhat taboo, but I’m not going to give them the satisfaction of my not mocking them. See what you think. It’s incomplete and anything in brackets was meant to be added later.
The Libyan Connection
In the dank and putrid motel room,
the Libyans planned their night.
“We will get the man who ripped us off
and cared not of our plight!”
They plotted their plan
and picked the man
who’d drive the van real nice.
His name was Brent,
of Libyan descent,
though his name would make you think twice.
Their proposal was set.
Fate would be met.
The doctor would die for his crime.
Brent’s driving was flawless,
albeit lawless.
He could turn that van on a dime.
He needed no license.
He had Mike Tyson’s.
Though Brent parts his hair on the side.
But that didn’t matter.
The doctor would splatter
and Brent would enjoy the ride.
A light shower fell.
You could hardly tell,
though the streets were wet and glossy.
It would not make a difference,
nor be a hindrance,
to the mission of this Libyan posse.
They loaded their gear.
Asif sat in the rear
to make ready their terrorist toys.
Azeem would ride
in the passenger side.
Machine guns were his weapon of choice.
What could cause such reprisal,
hatred… despisal?
These guys were super-pissed.
The truth be told,
they’d been left out in the cold
by a silver-haired, mad scientist.
He promised a bomb
that he’d build with aplomb.
The explosion would wake the dead.
The Libyans agreed, this bomb they would need.
”Money is no object,” they said.
There was only one catch.
The doc needed a batch
of Plutonium 438.
Pulling the doctor aside,
Azeem then replied,
”We get you the stuff. You just wait.”
The Doc went straight to building
a bomb capable of yielding
fire and brimstone and hell.
”When you set this off,
no one will scoff,
your message will be clear as a bell.”
Rubbing their hands
the Libyans began to make plans
to put their expensive bomb to use.
Little did they know
that only weeks ago
the Doc planned a well thought-out ruse.
He traveled one day
to a local video arcade
that sold old pinball games that had died.
They thought he was nuts
to buy pinball machine guts.
They figured his brain was fried.
[discovery of the fake bomb]
[doc disappears]
[give the date for night of the first time travel experiments]
[transition back to the libyans rolling out]
The motel desk clerk
was asleep, not alert,
as the van drove into the street.
Asif, still in back,
prepared to attack
by gently massaging his feet.
To Brent and Azeem
this really did seem
a strange way to clear one’s thoughts.
Brent thought it cool
to relax by the pool,
though he’d still listen for distant gunshots.
[they pass a sports car on the street by the theatre]
[they approach the mall, driving around it in circles]
[they spot the lights on the doc’s truck and begin heading for it]
[the shoot (use movie for info) and chase ensues]
[they come alongside the Delorean]
[Rocket launcher guy, guy sticking his head out of the sunroof, etc]
[Delorean vanishes]
[Van hits Fotomat booth and crashes]
[Libyans take a cab home, disgusted, with plans for revenge in the future]
Yeah, I know it needs work. I think I may have started writing that ten years ago. Perhaps it should stay incomplete, eh?
