Welcome to 1985, or, 1955, or wait, it’s uh...the future, so that means it’s 2015. Wait, that can’t be right. That's in the past. Isn't it? No, that's 1885. Never mind, none of that matters anyway. Time, space, that’s all relative. What matters is that you are standing in the parking lot of the Hill Valley Courthouse and something that has a flux capacitor will soon be barreling toward you at an unheard speed of 88 miles per hour. Whatever happens after that point is pure speculation at this point, Marty.
As you’re standing there with your VHS shoulder mount video camera, or your hoverboard, or your Sports Almanac, or your cowboy boots depending on which dimension of the space-time continuum you decided to land in, you look down and you see a small sheet of paper on the ground. On the sheet you see a few random numbers scattered.
You turn the piece of paper over and also see the following message on the back: