December 17, 1969; UC Hill Valley; canon doom
They're both done with exams, and it's actually snowing; Cosmo would be a lot less impressed by this if he were already back in Ohio, but when you're just north of San Francisco, it's something worthy of note. In any case, Marty decided it was high time to break out that list of bank numbers. They've been at it since early this afternoon, and it's well past dark now. They're probably the only people in the building.
Marty reads off some numbers for a transfer; Cosmo punches them in, and then asks what he probably should have in the first place. "What did we just do?"
"The Republican Party just made a generous donation to the Black Panthers."
"Far out." And a better place for that 25 grand anyway. The Republicans won't miss it, in the long run.
"Right on."
"Who's next?"
"Let's see..." Marty flips through the list for a few seconds, then stops. "Ooh, Richard Nixon's personal checking account is in here."
"Oh, this is a challenge. Marty, we have to find somebody truly worthy to give his money to. How about..." Cosmo thinks on it for a second, then throws out the most outrageous group that leaps to mind. "The National Association to Legalize Marijuana?"
"Perfect!"
"Now, how much should he give?"
"He's a generous man. I'd say... all he's got."
Cosmo sets up the transfer, and tries not to let his nerves get the better of him - but try as he might, he's still not entirely sold on this. "Marty... are you sure we won't get into trouble for this?"
"Cosmo." Marty comes up, claps him on the shoulder, and watches the transfer in progress. "Trust me."
He does relax a little once that's done - enough that within a few minutes, he's settled into one of their favorite theory games. "Posit: The phone company has too much money."
"Ooh, good one."
"Consequence?"
"Uh, they're corrupt," Marty says, after a few moments - not the most original answer ever, but better than some. "Result?"
That one's easy. "The system perpetuates itself at the expense of the people. Conclusion?"
"Ma Bell needs to donate some money."
"We're going to change the world, Marty."
"I just wish we could get course credit for this." Marty grabs one of the Chinese takeout boxes scattered atop the computers, and sighs when he finds it empty. "You got this. Want some food?"
Cosmo pulls a quarter out of his pocket, and turns around. "Loser goes." (He slips it up his sleeve without making a show of the fact; it's a trick he's counting on Marty still not knowing. The last thing he wants to do is drive somewhere in this weather, at least in a part of the country that's not prepared for snow sticking to the ground, and since the dining hall's closed that's their option.)
"I never lose." Marty taps Cosmo's left fist, and Cosmo grins as he reveals the lack of quarter.
"Pepperoni pizza, please. Shaken, not stirred."
"Power to the people, Cos."
"Power to the people, Marty."
Once Marty's out the door, Cosmo smiles, and lets the quarter drop back into his (right, so Marty would've been wrong anyway) hand. "One cannot trust anybody these days."
Getting a transfer set up takes a little bit longer, when you don't have someone to read off the account numbers to you; it absorbs enough of Cosmo's attention that he doesn't notice something's off until he finishes, and then the slightest flicker of light catches his attention. Red, blue, red, blue... shit.
Maybe it's just his imagination. It has been a while since lunch, after all. And sure enough, when he looks out the window, he doesn't see any police cars.
But he does see Marty, looking up at the window like he's waiting for something. And then the door to the lab opens, and Marty runs for it, and Cosmo can only wish he wasn't as fucked as he surely is.