[Marty had no idea he was in for a punch to the gut when checking out the video on a bored whim, but that’s homesickness for you. And it never lets up as he goes from mild curiosity to rapt attention to anxious excitement in the span of half a minute, his mind constantly drawing parallels between doctors and latching onto the hope of finding an escape from this place.]

Doctor Bishop? [Doc. Can’t call him Doc. God, and his voice cracked already. He swallows and reaches back to rub at his neck, wondering if anyone else called the guy yet.]

Hey, uh, if you’re still looking for an assistant… I've worked with a scientist back home on all kinds of inventions. His… inventions. [The distinction's important to make, even if he worries it'll hurt his chances of being chosen as an assistant. He just doesn't have Doc's brains and can't even try to fake it.]

I’d come over after school and help him with moving stuff around and handing him tools. [He shrugs a shoulder.] I guess I’m… pretty good at making eggs [--and adding milk to cereal because there’s no chance of that exploding or is there--], and I love music, definitely. I, I played lead guitar with my band. We're called the Pinheads. [He's rambling a bit, isn't he? He cracks a lopsided, hopeful grin. And then he clears his throat a little after a beat and his smile falls because he needs this distraction and doesn't want to blow his shot at this.]

So, what do you say? Can we work something out?