If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits 88 miles per hour, you’re gonna see some serious s***.
The way I see it, if you’re going to build a time machine into a car, why not do it with some style?
The time traveling is just too dangerous. Better that I devote myself to study the other great mystery of the universe: women.
Roads? Where we’re going, we don’t need roads.[Marty McFly: Hey, Doc, we better back up. We don’t have enough road to get up to 88.]
Marty, he’s in a ’46 Ford. We’re in a DeLorean. He’d rip through us like we were tin foil.[Marty McFly: Let’s land on him. We’ll cripple his car.]