#the fake out save ends with rick going 'what's wrong morty ]:-) i saved your life'

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

anyway i think claw and hoarder could have been really good if they had rick literally fuck the dragon

[popculturebuffet]

Close Enough Reviews: First Date and Snailin’ It

We’re in the home stretch thank god! Seriously while I do love this show, doing 13 reviews in one day, even as most are easy to bang out, has been exausting. But the thank god is also because we’ve arrived at my faviorite episode so far and.. er another one but at least it has Noel Fielding! That’s really awesome!  This time around Josh and Emily try to recapture the magic of their first date only to end up in one of the good Blumhouse movies, while Bridgette brings Josh along on an awkward first date. Then Emily gets the help of a snail’s magical hat to juggle work and life. Snail yeah under hte cut. 

First Date: 

A fourtune teller is at the fourplex, another review of the series I recently read revealed that’s what their buildings called and I like the sound of it so i’m using that, predicting a weird romance for bridget, who belivies it’s a guy she’s been texing, and sometimes sexting in her words not mine, who she has a date with tonight while said psychic also reveals to Emily that things with her and josh have gotten bland, something emily realizes via a hilarous flashback of them making out while falling asleep repeadtly before both just conk out. Also randy has thunder pants, aka pants tha tmake thunde rnoises and have a giant lighting bolt cod piece. Your the second best randy. Andt hat’s only because Alex is still a character. 

So we have our two plots and unlike previous episodes and one future one the plots.. don’t dovetail. Which I like and I like a show being able to do two seperate plots in eleven minutes. We frankly need more of that. Bridgette has her date and Josh and Emily end up having theres. As such i’ll cover both seperatley. And since their plots a bit simplier let’s start with Josh and Emily.  Emily tries flirting with Josh before explaning it’s because she wants to bring the spice back. After josh bungles his response trying to say what she wants but just.. you know asking emily what she wants him to say which is never a good move in any conversation, Josh does near instantly rebound, texting emily to come to the close tfor a suprise. Granted since Josh, self admittley right after, admits he has no game, it come across as weird and creepy, but Emily appricates him trying and is touched when he reveals his real bring the sparks back romantic plan: a recreation of their first date, which was at a haunted house. Also for some reason Josh thought mr magoriums wonder emporium was a best picture contender. Never change josh, never change. But I genuinely like this: having a couple that while relaistically having a dry spell still lvoes each other: instead of worrying the relationship is dead as these plots tend to do they simply want to bring back the magic that’s sometimes lost when you work two jobs, raise a kid full time and live with two weirdos with little sense of personal space.  So they go and the reason it’s pretty simple is their subplot is the two having a mind screw being chased by various horrors in the house. As i’ve said I feel the series has more of a horror bent at times with some episodes leaning more into that than just goofy madness like regular show did. Regular Show really saved most of its straight up horror content for terror tales, here horror bits can crop up as much as fucking wacky bits. I mean a logan’s run parody where a man dies is paired up with a low speed train chase with a con arist that ends with her driving into a thermortor factory while choking her fake son. The show can ping pong on tone, but it does work.  But yeah that’s why there’s less to talk about: it’s not bad stuff, it’s super spooky including the end bit where their told they died, it’s just mostly the two of them running around a nightmare, that unsuprisngly turns out not to be real and was just the attraction, before a really touching climax when the two finally find each other run towards each other and realize just how horrifed they were at the thought of loosing one another. it’s really damn touching and romantic, and leads to another climax when the two start kissing before getting it on despite the horror house working telling them they have others coming. I’ts a good plot, I just don’t have a ton to anlyaize about it. it’s just really good and really good horror stuff with a satsifying and sweet ending.  On to our main event, Bridgette heads out to her date and TRIES lying to alex for his own sake.. but Alex not only easily guessed she was on a date in the first place but... isn’t bothered at all. He even offers to wing man while sining the firends theme song and clapping at the wrong time. Because he’s alex even when he’s being sweet and a good friend and ex, he can’t help but be just a BIT off.  Bridget goes to meet Ron.. and finds he’s sewn to his ex Joy... like literally sewn or conjoined as they put it. Bridgette freaks the fuck out but is talked by ron into continuing, partly because their getting it undone and partly because Bridgette herself admits Ron looked past her baggage.. even if his is larger, she can at least try to. Also Ron is voiced by Chris Parnell who, with archer delayed event hough i’m watching it again and having stopped wtching rick and morty, I dearly missed. Glad to have you back dude. I’m also unsuprised he’s in this as the man is in everything. He’s a fucking workhorse. 

Anyways Alex happily agrees, has his own brief freakout because bridget didn’t tell him about the conjoined twins thing despite being a room away, but quickly rebounds and.. actually hits it off with Joy. even better than Bridgette is with ron who she soon realizes won’t shut the hell up about hiking. Soon Bridgette.. is jealous. Both because Alex is moving on way easier and found someone way quicker, Joyce shares his weird taste in viking erotica, and because she may still have some feelings left. We saw a bit of that in “Robot Tutor”: Bridgette got jealous real quick when alex saw someone elsed espite them being there mostly as sex pals, and admitted there was still some unresolved stuff there they hadnt gotten past on both sides.  They hit the club and things continue to degrade, with Bridgette even more jealous because Alex never took her dancing. And being that bridg is a musician and loves clubbing and what not, i’ts pretty understandable to be frustrated with her ex talking about how it took someone else to get him to do the worm.. also Alex doing the worm is a sheeer delight. When the cojoined ex couple leave, with Ron once again bringing up climbing machu pichu because apparently it’s in chris parnells contract he can never play an actually likeable romantic intrest, Bridget tries to bail but Alex wants to stay since it’s not his fault his date is going well and her’s isn’t.  Bridgette makes the mistake of saying “If you like joy so much why don’t you just conjoin with her”.. and Alex being alex says “why dont’ I and we end up at conjoin, the place Ron and Joy got bonded in the first place. Ever since 1994, you won’t regret this. Actual signs up there and they are wonderful. Bridgette, still jealous even ifs he can’t stand ron offers to be conjoined to him both in a desperate attempt not to losoe alex and to one up him.  However Alex finally calls her out, as while he’s perfeclty happy for her to move on, as this episode showed.. she can’t stand to see him with someone else, and Ron wisley tells her he can’t be attached to someone who isn’t unattached from her ex. When bridgette counters with the oppsitie ron is suprisingly pogniant “We can detach from each other physically but you two can’t detach from each other spirtually”. WHile bridgette quips about him finally saying something intresting, he’s right. She’s not ready and this night clearly proved it and even if she was she was only doing this to show up Alex. Joy likewise breaks things off. a bit more abrubtly since Alex has’nt been nearly as obvious as bridgette.. but alex himself shows he too still has some feelings when he accidentlya dmits to having written an entire section of his memoir about her teeth. Would could be creepy or you know, standard alex ends up really sweet as Bridgette is not only touched by the gesture, but Alex explains why “THeir all the parts that make up your smile” The two share a look, Joy wants what they have and Ron wants to masturbate alone. The end. 

Sadly this isn’t followed up on yet, if at all if there isn’t more episodes next week, as the next ep with the two in it, the finale for today, has the two in seperate plots that only dovetail at the end. But this honestly feels like a posisble arc for the show; Will the two get back together and work past the issues that got them to divorce in the first place or stay divorced and move on? And regular show, with one exception i’ve ranted enough about and will again, was really good at romantic storylines eventually and this could be really intresting for a number of reasons. I’m realy hoping this isn’t just a one off ending, could be but we’ll hopefully see. Either way this episode is really damn good with both plots , while not intersecitng connecting thematically: ONe couple relives a horrifying mirorr version of their first date while a former couple goes on their first real date with other people since the split but finds they might not be as done as they thought. IT’s a good juxtopision and the whole conjoining bit is both horrifying and good Beisdes having my ship at the center i’ts just a damn good time and the best of the season so far (or at all atain the 8 episodes thing is really throwing me off). 

Snailed It: This one should go quicker as its a much simpler ep: Emily has been working way too much and neglecting Candace, including a crypt based board game they’ve been playing for her job because she’s being a doormat. however i’ts not unresonable since said job gives them health insurance which given their lives, they REALLY need. She’s being such a doormat because she’s understandably afraid if she stands up for herself it could risk her job and they’d loose important stuff.  Emily TRIES to juggle things by doing a charity garden/publicity stunt to distract thigns at the school btu the comination of extra work from her boss and the children not actually gardening makes it fail and candace more upset. Emily finds help in the most unlikely of places: A giant talking snail that offers to let her use his magic hat to speed up time and complete the garden in exchange for some of the veggies. He’s also voiced by nice dude and mighty boosh alum noel fielding in what hoenstly feels like a boosh character got out of that universe, if their not the same unvierse which is possible, and snuck into this one.  Emily accepts, and is tempted to use the hat to do more of her job, with the snail calling her a shit parent. Fuck you man, sh’e sa good mom she’s just making mistakes. Emily decides to do it anyway and it works but she soon finds out using the hat outside the garden ages her while the snail decides fuck it and kidnaps candace by aborbing her into his stomach and making her be his legs so he can get dumplings because why not. What follows is a horrifc and tense chase between the two as candace’s life is on the line and the snail has a backup hat and emily time blasting him only makes candace age or deage, horrifyingly becoming a fetus at one point and a teenager later. It’s ar eally tense well done seen that combines the show’s usual insanity with it’s horror side to great effect Meanwhile josh feels useless since his job is less important, and he feels less important as he’s on call and skipping rocks with randy because apparently that’s what he does on call. Randy gets a great moment though, explaning to josh that h’es like the stones their skipping: he’s immoible and seemingly useless most of the time but when it matters he’s there . He’s there rock. Their support.. and naturally with emily slowly dying from her hat, a rare sentence, Josh steps upa nd saves the day via stone skipping, emily throws the hat in and the fundraiser, due to the madness, sucesffuly buired the scandal and Emily finally tells mr salt no.. and he’s really cool about it just telling her to come in a little later. Things are back on track and we’re out.  This wasn’t a bad one, but it both feels less after the prevoius episode and somehwhat simple comaprd other emily centreic episodes. WHile the snail is a great villian and noel fielding,  like rich fulcher before him, fits into this kind of world nicely. Not a bad one, just one sandwitched between two far more interesting episodes. Speaking of which, we’re in the endg ame now. Next time it’s dog days and weird fucking al baby, until very soon later days. 

[whereyouletitgo]

1-100

1. Is a kiss considered cheating? Yes2. Have you ever faked orgasm? Yes lol3. If you could have one superpower, what would it be? Either being able to fly, mind read, or to manipulate any type of situation. 4. Do you think you are going to be rich in 7-8-9 years? If things work out 😬5. Tell us some funny drunk story. I don’t really drink sooo 😬6. Why are you no longer together with your ex? Too many things to say7. If you had to choose one way to die, what would it be? Natural causes and in my sleep lol8. What are your current goals? To be genuinely happy. To find a job. Have more beautiful babies. 9. Do you like someone? I do!10. Who was the last person to disappoint you? Myself11. Do you like your body? Some parts. I would like to lose some weight in some places 12. Can you keep a diet? Maybe if I really wanted to 13. If the whole world listened to you right now, what would you say? I would tell them to smoke a bowl and chill the fuck out. Too much negativity 14. Do you work? Looking for a job right now15. If you could choose only one food to eat to the rest of your life, what would it be? Chow mein 😊16. Would you get a tattoo? Yeah! I have 417. Something you don’t mind spending all your money on? Anything my son needs, food18. Can you drive? Yes19. When was the last time someone told you you were beautiful? A little bit ago20. What was the last thing you cried for? Oh god who knows. Probably my current relationship mess lmao21. Do you keep a journal? No22. Is life fun? Sometimes lol 23. Is farting in front of people irrelevant? I think farts are funny but can be embarrassing in front of certain people. 24. What’s your dream car? I could care less as long as it runs and looks decent lol25. Are grades in school important? They were to me when I was in school. 26. Describe your crush. I have way too many crushes on random people. I literally think everyone is cute 😂27. What was the last book/movie that really impressed you? I’m really impressed with the show Vikings right now. Super in love with it28. What was your last lie? 🤷🏻‍♀️29. Dumbest lie you ever told? 😂🤷🏻‍♀️30. Is crying in front of people embarrassing? Yes31. Something you did and you are proud of? I gave birth to my son pretty much naturally because my epidural was clamped. If I can do that, I can do anything lmao.32. What’s your favourite cocktail? Meh lol33. Something you are good at? Having sex 😎34. Do you like small kids? LOVE them35. How are you feeling right now? I’m really sleepy and hungry lol.36. What would you name your daughter/son? My sons name is Liam. I have a lot of different girl name I like. 37. What do you need to be happy? Food lol. My son. I don’t need it but weed makes me happy.38. Is there some you want to punch in the face right now? Always lol39. What was the last gift you received? My girlfriend gives me gifts all the time so maybe the awesome perfume she bought me the other day 40. What was the last gift you gave? I haven’t given it to her yet but I got Teresa some yummy smelling bath bombs & I got my friends baby a bunch of really cute clothes 😍😍😍41. What was the last concert you went to? Dance Gavin dance 😍😍😍42. Favourite place to shop at? Earthbound43. Who inspires you? My mom44. How old were you when you first got drunk? Like 1645. How old were you when you first got high? 1846. How old were you when you first had sex? 1747. When was your first kiss? Technically when I was like 6 lmao but I don’t think that counts. Maybe my 15th birthday party where all my friends found out I never made out with anyone and they were like “okay we’re gonna teach you” and I literally made out with all 4 of them 😂48. Something you want to do until the end of this year? I’m not really sure49. Is there something in the past you wish you hadn’t done? Yesssss50. Post a selfie. After I post this 😘51. Who are you most comfortable around? My family52. Name one thing that terrifies you. Death of my loved ones53. What kind of books do you read? All kinds! I really love mysteries, horror, teen fiction, fantasy, stuff about different religions, stuff about dreams, paranormal, aliens, conspiracy theories.. all kinds of stuff 54. What would you tell your 12 year old self? That it gets better and that there’s nothing wrong with finding girls attractive 55. What is your favourite flower? I love all flowers!! But my favorites are sunflowers and lilies 56. Any bad habits you have? I bite my nails a lot57. What kind of people are you attracted to? Kind hearted people58. What was the last thing you cried for? I cry a lot about my sweet Kai. I was 16 weeks and miscarried 59. Is there something you don’t eat? I don’t eat a lot of fish60. Some food that truly disgust you? Sweet corn in a can 😂61. Are you in love? Yes62. Something you find romantic? Candles lit while having sex lmao i love that63. How long was your longest relationship? 4 years64. What are 3 things that irritate you about the same sex? 65. What are 3 things that irritate you about the opposite sex? 66. What are you saving money for? My trip to California 67. How would you describe your bad side? She’s a bitch68. Are you actually a good person? Why? I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of. I do think I’m genuinely a good person though. 69. What are you living for? My son70. Have you ever done anything illegal? Yeah lol71. Do you like your body? Meh72. Have you ever made someone feel bad about themselves intentionally? No73. Ever sent nudes? Yes74. Have you ever cheated on someone? Yes75. Favourite candy? Chocolate (dove)76. Is there a blog you visit every day, or almost every day? Tag it! @alientere77. Do you play any computer games? What is your favourite game? No78. Favourite TV series? Oh god so many. Game of thrones, Vikings, criminal minds, beat Bobby flay, chopped, bobs burgers, true blood, rick and morty...79. Are you religious? Does God exist? I believe in a higher power. 80. What was the last book you read? Did it impress you and why? It’s been a minute since I’ve read any books. But I love reading and everything I real always impressed me lol81. What do you think about vegetarianism/veganism? I think that people that can do that have really strong will power lol. Good for them82. How long have you been on Tumblr? Like almost 5 years83. Do you like Chineese food? Yesss84. McDonalds or Subway? I like both. I worked at subway for 4 years so I’m taking a break 😂85. Vodka or whiskey? Vodka 86. Alcohol or drugs? Weed.. lol87. Ever been out of your province/state/country? I’ve been to a lot of other states. I went to Mexico when I was a baby but I don’t think that counts lol88. Meaning behind your blog name? It’s random lol89. What are you scared of? A lot of things90. Last time you were insulted? Not too long ago91. Most traumatic experience? When I had my miscarriage. 92. Perfect date idea? Going to the beach 😍93. Favourite app on your phone? Tumblr, snapchat lol94. What colour are the walls in your room? Brown 🙄95. Do you watch Youtube? Who is your favourite youtuber? No I don’t really get into that 96. Share your favourite quote. I don’t think I have one97. Do you like horror movies? Yes98. Have you ever made your mum cry? What happened? A few times. I felt bad and still feel bad about it 99. Do you feel lucky or special in a way? I do 100. Can you keep a secret? Most of the time lol

[humanityinahandbag]

Defective (the first in a random collection)

In which a writer tries to write snapshots into the life of the first (and only) Rick to leave the citadel and actually raise a fucking family. 

His name is Rick C-236.B. And he’s vaguely and reluctantly domestic. 

Updates are not planned and this might go flopping spectacularly. This writer also has too many fics she needs to finish. So don’t expect a novel. 

Rick C-1902b stares at Rick C-236.B and takes a long swig of his flask. It’s purposeful, and a dick move at that. C-236.B’s flask had been confiscated after they’d finished patting him down (they’d completely missed the vials of high toxicity neuron gas he’d shoved up his ass so at least he had that if it came to it) and his hand twitched. His brow pushed down, and he glared at C-1902b, who made a show of shotgunning the rest of the vodka before tucking away the flask in his lab coat. “So, you’re being dem-ugh-demoted, huh?”

He wished he was that level of shit-faced right then. Sobriety wasn’t a good look on him. “Apparently.”

“Heh.” C-1902b flipped through a stack of papers. “You’re getting a bughh- a defective. Sign here.”

There’s no real argument to be had. He was just another Rick who’d tried to topple the oligarchy of Rick’s. It had been done before. It’d be done again. He was just another cog in a pattern. And each one of them, of which there had been many, was eventually given the temporary sentence of a defective Morty.

It usually lasted a few short months before the sentences were retracted for a lighter, more manageable one.

Toppling the oligarchy was, after all, an every day sort of thing. It didn’t warrant much more than a slap on the wrist. And a few months with a shitty side piece was usually all they got for it.

He signed Ape Aids on the paper (for which the proctor only snorted and filed somewhere next to Chimp Fuckers), handed in his number card, and walked around the desk. C-1902b got up and followed in step. He fiddled with his portal gun and pointed it at the bare wall. “They got you a real nice place, shit bag. Real nice.”

“Shut the fuck up and do your job.”

C-1902b guffaws. “You’re gonna fuckin’ love this.” He shoots. The green portal opens with a resounding braaaaaaawwhhhh and C-236.B huffs a heavy sort of sigh that smells too much like vomit and booze.

This whole place smelled like vomit and piss and booze. Home, the Rick’s would call that. He saluted the other Rick, and with a chirp of -”see you later, pussy” and a high held middle finger, he steps through, into the suburbia that greets him on the other side.

There’s a social worker at the front door. Which is… strange. Because he’s standing on the lawn and there’s a social worker sort of just standing around like he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on either, and he looks at Rick for a second like he’s some sort of old vagrant before knocking on the door again. “Mrs. Smith-?”

“That’s my daughter.”

The social worker ignores him in favor of pounding on the door. “Mrs. Smith!”

Rick steps forward. He still doesn’t have his flask. Or anything. Except for an ass full of neuron gas but this seems like too much effort to pull a squat just to wriggle that thing out. He groans and pushes forward again, whipping out an arm to snag at the mans coat. “Hey. Dipshit.” The man finally turns enough to ogle Rick with huge, owlish eyes. “I’m her father. Whatever she did, you can fucking talk to me.”

“She abandoned her kids.”

Well. That didn’t sound like Beth.

That sounded like him. Not like Beth.

“I don’t think so.”

“She got drunk again.” said the social worker, by ways of moving the conversation forward. “It was stipulated in her parole-” blah blah blah

“My daughter wouldn’t do that. She” (loves? adores? tolerates?) “likes her kids.”

“Sir, she’s an alcoholic with a long streak of theft.” Well… at least this world made sense hereditarily. She’s been on parole for three days. She ran.”

“Smart choice. Avoid the government.” He always knew his Beth was a good one.

“She left her kids!” He wiggled his files in the air. “Again!”

“Kids get in the way of the whole, avoid the government.”

“Sir-”

Rick cut him off with a snort. “So what? So do… go find her or something? She’ll go… go to rehab and so some shit and what? What’s gonna happen.”

“I don’t know, sir.” The social workers tone became clipped and slow. Like he was talking to a three year old and not a galaxy renowned scientist. Rick clenched his jaw. “She’s missing. She ran away. Again. As if her husband was any help-” (well… at least they were agreed on one thing…) “-he’s off god knows where and now her kids are alone. If a neighbor hadn’t called…”

Oh… oh this was good.

A defective Morty with no Beth. No Jerry. Him and Summer alone without anything. Oh this was perfect! Rick began to compose the speech in his mind. He’d throw it right back at those other Rick’s ballsacks. He’d say too bad! Sent me to the wrong place! Return my belongings and give me a new, functional shield, and go fuck yourselves while you’re at it! He’d be home free.

And it was looking like all of this would turn out this way. Like it was all going to tumble into a perfect little pile of Hell Yeah I’m Rick until…

Until the social worker turned on him.

“You,” said the social worker.

“Me.” stated Rick.

“You’re their grandfather?”

“Uh.”

“I mean, I’ll have to check the paperwork! Make sure you’re really- I can go get that now! Oh my god, sir, this is going to make my life so much better! Oh and the kids, of course, but… but god this is so much paperwork and time saved!”

“Uh-”

“If you wan’t to come into the office? I can get you all the things you need! I assume you’re going to be living in the house or do you have your own residence-”

“Hold the fucking phone.” Rick lifted his palms and shook them in front of the mans face until they resembled little, albino trees on a blustery, blustery day. “Hold the mother fucking phone. You want me to-”

“You’re their next of kin!”

“I’m an alcoholic.”

“I can have you everything by tomorrow! Does that work?”

“I’m definitely abusive.”

“Or would you rather come in today? The sooner the better!”

“I’m going to scar these kids. Like… l-like totally. Beyond redemption. They will be fucked. up.”

“Today. Today is the best.” The social worker beamed up at the abusive, alcoholic, child-scarring man with an earnest sort of glee. “Oh this is wonderful, sir, just wonderful. You already know the children, I’m sure, but I think it best if you explain it all to them, don’t you? Don’t you think that that’s best?”

There were two options.

He could just walk away.

Scratch that. He’s walking. Now.

“Sir? Sir, where are-!”

“Are you… are you my grandpa Rick?” He turns. Oh. Ohhhh fuck.

The social worker kneels down. “Yes, Summer. He’s your grandfather. You know him?”

Summer is at the door. Only she’s not as tall and not as fake-blonde and not as anything. She’s younger. And her eyes are bigger. And she’s doing a fan-fucking-tastic job staring at him with them.

The girl shook her head, but opened her mouth to declare that she’d “met him once” but a long time ago, since Beth had stopped seeing guests in favor of the bottom of a bottle. She didn’t talk about the fact that he’d left voluntarily. He didn’t have to be a part of this universe to know that. Rick’s always left. And they always came back just to screw everything over a few times.

He takes a step back. Summer’s eyes are on him again.

“Where are you going, Grandpa Rick?” There’s a noise behind her, and a younger child, two or three or just spectacularly short, toddles up and takes her hand and peers around at the older man like he’s seeing him for the first time. He probably is.

“Morty, look! It’s our…” her eyes flicker up, then down again, “Grandpa?”

“Rick. Just Rick.”

“Grandpa,” she amends. She’d always been that way- declaring the world her own through whatever words she chose. The Morty behind her shifted and hid his face against her back. “He’s gonna take care of us?”

“He is,” said the social worker, who holds out a pen. “Right, Mr. Smith?”

He probably should say no, and watch them get hauled into the stupid pussy green Pries that's sitting on the road. Off to some stupid godforsaken government fondled foster center. They'd be separated and one or both of them would end up in some shitty situation with the whole "hard knock life" vibe. And that didn't matter. He didn't care. He could wait until they'd been weathered by someone else besides him, and then sweep them back up, the hard work of shattering two innocent souls completed and the lazy, aftereffects left for him to do with as he pleased. Except... a few years, alone, in suburbia. That sounded like a borefest beyond all borefests.

Entertainment came in all forms, he supposed.

Rick sighs. His plan forgotten and his spirits, for the most part, dashed, he eased forward and took the pen. “It’s Sanchez,” he said, signing the bottom. “And bring the stupid fucking paperwork tomorrow.”

“Will do, sir!”

There are at least a few good things here, Rick thinks, when he shuts the door and looks down at the two tiny children who stand in front of him.

Morty, who still hides his face still against Summer’s back, is young.

Young enough to make an impression.

A lasting impression.

A I’ll-Do-Whatever-Without-Complaining sort of impression.

The kind that could make all those other Rick’s realize who’d gotten the best part of the deal. When he walked through the citadel with his loyal, no questions asked Morty. They’d see. They’d all see.

“So,” says Summer, reaching behind her to hold Morty’s shoulders at an odd angle. “Your our… parent?”

He breaks out of his reveries long enough to look down at her. “No. I’m your grandparent. You got booze?”

“No. I’m six.”

“Okay. But is there booze here.”

“I don’t know. I’m six.”

He draws out a long sigh.

“Are you going to stay here forever?”

“No,” says Rick, who’s turning around to go find booze. The two kids march fast to keep up with his legs. “I’m going to stay long enough to break you two into obedient little servants who will bend at my every will.” He points to the little boy. “Especially you.” Morty, who had peeked over the curve of Summer’s neck, pushes his face between Summer’s shoulder blades. “And then once I’ve gotten there, I’m going to shove it into the stupid Citidel’s face and they’ll take me back as a hero. And then you,” he points again to Morty, “will be my mental shield, and you,” the finger inches over to Summer, “are going to be a nagging bitch. Sound good?”

The impressive little speech hangs in the air between them.

Summer squints up at him until her nose wrinkles. “Okay. But are you going to make dinner?”

The moment is promptly lost. “Probably not.” says Rick. He goes back to the cabinets. There really was no booze. The parole officers must have snagged it. Fucking government pawns. “Eh… you guys eat pizza?”

“Yeah.”

“Pizza it is.”

“I want pineapples on mine.”

“Pineapples are for whores, Summer.”

Morty pokes his head over, his brown curls bobbing. “I want pineapple,” he squeaks, barely audible, mimicking his sister with his own desire for the whorish fruit before planting his face right back where it had been.

They end up ordering a pie with half pineapple, half anything else, and eat in silence around the table. Summer helps Morty with his. Rick just watches. She takes care of the younger, it looks like, down to silently lifting his hand when the cheese begins to drip down his wrist. Beth must have been in a fucking state not to. She’d never been mom of the year. But this was… something new.

The two are mostly self sufficient, and so teeth are brushed and beds are turned down without a fuss or help. Morty shuts his door and Summer leaves hers open, and Rick wanders to his own bedroom to find its an office, and so he ends up wandering to the couch downstairs and claiming it as his own.

Well. It could be better. It could be worse. But for all that it was, he would break them. And then… then they would see. Then they would all see just what happened when you messed with a Rick and his deficient Morty.

It’s two weeks in, when the house is actually functioning (albeit very loosely) with a sort of schedule, when Morty is still not talking to him that he the whole “breaking” plan is seeming a little harder than before.

Morty and him had always clicked. Clicked like two puzzle pieces being shoved and broken together. But at least they’d worked. This Morty peers at him from behind couches and shoves cereal in his mouth to avoid letting words out.

He learns a few things about each kid. Things he knew from their older versions. And things that he’d missed when he’d missed the whole young kid age.

Summer hates artichokes and tuna fish, but is okay with salmon as long as it’s mixed with mayo.

Morty likes drawing. And that’s about it.

He draws on everything. Everywhere. There’s little sneaky dots on the walls that he hides with the Fisher Price toys scattered around, and a few on the legs of the couch. Paper is everywhere, crumpled up, and covered with different strings of terrible art. Summer is the one who usually picks them up and throws them away, shoving them deep into the trashcan next to the beer cans from Rick’s late night science binges. “Just leave him alone while he draws,” Summer advises, sounding like she’s ten years older than just six, but he doesn’t comment. “It’s how he coped.”

“With what? A drunk?” Rick shakes the can in her face and she swats it away.

“It’s how he coped,” she says again, before throwing the rest of the drawings out.

He’ll find Morty “coping” every so often. And each time, he tries to make some sort of… conversation? Mind bending alteration? … breakthrough? …mental scar? Today, the chosen place is from under the table, with a crayon in each hand, and a paper in front of his feet. Rick bends down. “Hey, kid, you gonna talk now or w-ugh-what.”

Morty nearly snaps the crayon in two and crawls out, hurrying to find a new place to hide. His drawing (it’s a whale. or a dinosaur. or… maybe a weird vagina creature or something?) is left behind.

Rick picks it up. He turns it one way. He turns it the other way. “Huh,” says Rick.

He hangs it on the fridge with a super magnet he’d created to attract quarters (a mostly failed project- it’d gotten him pennies and not much else).

The next day, Morty is once again coloring something that resembles a group of drowning people. Rick snorts. “Hey, not bad!”

That’s enough to send the kid into an anxiety ridden spiral and he dives under the couch and stays there until Summer drags him out by his ankles.

The picture, which is a lot of blue shit, goes up on the fridge.

By the end of the week, their fridge is mostly covered with Morty’s “coping”.

He’ll find Morty standing at the foot of it, staring up. He gives the kids leg a little kick. “Not bad, right?” The kid blinks at him. Better than running away. “I bluhhh- I got this fridge to magnetize to substances containing traces of tree pulp and wax. Set it real low, s-so it’ll only work for paper and crayons and shit. You like?”

Morty looks back at it. And then he hands Rick a new drawing. “Sure,” says Rick, thwaking it onto the fridge. “That good?”

Morty nods.

“You want dinner? Pizza?”

Morty shakes his head.

His grandfather groans. “Right. Okay. So I can’t cook much shit b-but…” he opens the fridge, and the paper flutters and whisks around, “how -how are eggs. You like eggs?”

Morty nods.

They eat a pile of party burned eggs for dinner. Morty helps his grandfather bring the plates to the kitchen, and hands them off before scurrying up to bed.

They never ask where their mother is. Or their father. They never really mention their names or faces. Summer doesn’t seem at all torn up at the concept of a sudden and uncaring guardian, and Morty is content to hold his sisters hand and tag along.

Rick feels bad for them in the kind of kicked puppy way.

“You want to call your mom or… I dunno… something?” asks Rick one day to the kids.

Summer is brushing her hair in the mirror and doesn’t bother to look away from what she’s doing. “No,” she says. Morty, who’s next to her sitting on the toilet lid and watching, doesn’t do anything. “She’ll call if she wants to.”

She doesn’t call.

That tells Rick a lot about this reality, which is sort of more fucked up than the other ones he’s been to.

He didn’t think that was much possible.

The fridge is literally drowning in paper.

Between that and eggs, Rick is basically running a household.

Which is… different.

The plans to break the kids get put off in favor of other, more important things. Like trying not to burn eggs.

Morty’s first words to him were supposed to be something like “what can I do to serve you” or “I’ll be your eternal slave forever and always” or “gee whizz, Rick, don’t you think this is dangerous?” or something Morty-ish like that.

“Can you reach the ice cream.”

That’s the first words. The first fucking words.

“What?”

Morty points to the paper swamped freezer. “The ice cream.” He’s got a little bit of a lisp, and two of his teeth are missing. He’d never opened his mouth, so the elderly man never noticed. “I want chocolate.”

“Oh.” Rick opens the freezer. It’s the first one, on the bottom, and it’s still full. He doesn’t even comprehend the magnitude of the fact that his grandchild is finally talking to him, or the fact that his first words to him are so puss poor and definitely not in line with his plans at all -I mean for real, isn’t he supposed to be the one giving directions?- but he’s sort of overtaken by the fact that holy shit there’s ice cream.

He spoons it into three cups and shouts something like Summer get your ass down here up the stairs, and plants them all in front of the television and says “alright Kids, I’m gonna introduce you to the wonders of ball fondlers.”

The usual Morty liked it more than this Morty. But this Morty at least stays quiet.  He crosses his legs and watches and drops half the ice cream onto the couch, which Rick is going to have a shit time cleaning but he doesn’t care.

“I liked the crocodile,” says Morty after, yawning and trailing after his grandfather. Rick grabs a paper towel and runs it under too-hot water and scrubs down the kids face. Morty protests, but it doesn’t matter much.

“It’s an alligator, dumbass.”

“I liked him.” His chin is all red and blotchy after Rick had scrubbed it raw, but at least it’s clean. He throws it away and grabs Morty’s arm.

“Come on. Bed.”

“I have to brush my teeth.”

“Fine. Teeth. Then bed.”

Morty allows himself to be dragged along. Which is such a Morty thing to do, and that’s at least a small comfort through all of this. “I like Elmo better.”

“Elmo ain’t got shit. Can Elmo castrate an entire commune of nazis?”

“Elmo says I can do anything if I dream it.”

“Dreams are just chemicals reacting in your brain and Elmo is a puppet. Like you.”

“Oh,” says Morty. Then: “I like Cookie Monster the best anyway.”

And that was Morty. Always seeing the best.

Rick helps him get toothpaste onto the brush and shoves him into his room and watches him sternly (or as stern as he thinks he needs to look for a grandfather running a household that basically lives off pizza and eggs and ice cream) from the doorway. The kids pajamas are too small, but he wriggles into them anyway. The last good pair he had must have been given to them before his daughter had gone bananas on reality and fucked off. He wondered how Summer was faring. And then he shakes his head and stops himself from wondering.

He wonders anyway.

No one says goodnight, except for Summer who shouts at Rick to shut off the light already! and that’s sort of the same thing.

Rick collapses on the couch that night and stares at the ceiling. His plans… they’re not shattered? But they’re not… in order. They’re chaotic and messy. And a little scattered.

But that’s what they sentenced him to. A Morty that had been deemed defective until further notice. And his… was a work in progress. Progress that he didn’t want to do.

But hell. He’d done worse. And this was just going to be one in many days ahead that he had to work with what he’d been dealt…

… and what he’d been dealt apparently went down the drain with one huge fuck you old man because by the end of the month he’s standing in a Target looking through the pajamas while an acne covered employee drones “what are you looking for sir?”

“What the fuck does it look like?”

“I’m only here to help, sir,” says the teen, who’s basically dripping oil and cologne.

Rick sighs. “I need a size six. My kid’s fucking tiny as shit. You got a size six? In dinosaur. He only li- li- brurghhh- likes dinosaurs.” Which is evident enough by the stack of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets also in the cart next to the carrot sticks that the mom next door said were essential to a Childs growth. He'd picked out pajamas for Summer already, next to a few different shirts that had looked about their size, and some jeans with elastic ankle bands because he had to be cruel to them somehow. “And if you don’t have it, I’ll have to shoot your f- ughhh-cking face in.”

"Sir, are you drunk."

"I wish." He pauses. “Halfway there. Should be there by checkout.”

"Sir, are you carrying a concealed weapon."

"Not concealed. It's here." he pat his pocket.

"Sir, you can't have that in here. It's dangerous."

"it's only dangerous if you d- ughh- don't got dinosaurs! Size six, motherfucker."

The teen can only find Star Wars, and he hands it over with a monotone, "sorry, sir, will these do" that tells Rick his shift is almost done so please hurry the fuck up. Rick takes them and hopes the kid knows what Star Wars is. And also hopes that he hates it. That fake science wasn't worth shit.

"Thans for nothing."

"Always happy to help, sir." says the teen, who resumes his wandering to search for more victims. Rick does the same, only after loading two more cartons of chocolate ice cream into his cart. The kids, it seemed, were still fond of ice cream, sans flies. Some things didn't change.