Biff Tannen: I have your car towed all the way to your house and all you've got for me is *lite* beer?
Biff: Why don't you make like a tree, and get out of here?
Biff Tannen: Why don't you make like a tree and get out of here!
Biff: Look, Lorraine, you walk out that door and I won't only cut off you, I'll cut off your kids.
Lorraine: You wouldn't!?
Biff: Oh, wouldn't I? First your daughter, Linda. I'll cancel all her credit cards. She can settle her debts with the bank all by herself. Your idiot son, Dave. I'll get his probation revoked. And as for Marty. Well, maybe you liked to have all three of your kids behind bars just like your brother Joey. One big happy jailbird family.
Biff: Go ahead, kid. Jump. A suicide will be nice and neat.
Marty: What if I don't?
Biff: [raising gun] Lead poisoning.
Marty: What about the police, Biff? They're gonna match up the bullet with that gun.
Biff: Kid, I own the police. Besides, they couldn't match up the bullet that killed your old man.
Marty: You son of a...
[Biff pulls back on the gun's hammer.]
Biff: Suppose it's poetic justice. Two McFlys with the same gun.
Biff: Oh! Nice dress, Lorraine. Although, I think you'd look better wearing nothing at all.
Lorraine: Biff, why don't you take a long walk off a short pier?
Biff: Hey listen, Lorraine. Now that I got my car all fixed up I figured I cut you a break and give you the honor of going with the best looking guy in school.
Lorraine: Yeah, well, I'm busy.
Biff: Oh, yeah? Doing what?
Lorraine: Washing my hair.
Biff: Oh, that's about as funny as a screen door on a battleship.
Marty: Screen door on a submarine, you dork.
Old Biff: I have a little something for you. You do want to be rich, don't you?
Young Biff: Oh, yeah. Sure. That's rich. You're gonna make me rich.
Old Biff: You see this book? This book tells the future. It tells the outcome of every major sports event 'til the end of the century. Football, baseball, horse races, boxing. The information in here is worth millions, and I'm giving it to you.
Young Biff: That's very nice. Thank you very much. Now why don't you make like a tree, and get out of here?
Old Biff: It's LEAVE, you idiot!"Make like a tree and leave." You sound like a damn fool when you say it wrong!
Young Biff: Manure! I HATE manure!
Old Biff: There's something very familiar about all this.
Buford: 8 o'clock Monday, runt. You ain't here, I'll hunt you and shoot you down like a duck.
Gang Member 1: It's dog, Buford. Shoot 'im down like a dog.
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