Play Morty for Me

A Rick and Morty Fan Fiction (while you’re waiting patiently for the real thing)

[We drop down into Rick’s garage. Rick has his head stuck under the hood of his spaceship. He pulls up, grabs a beer resting on the battery, drains it in a fast gulp. Burps, crushes the can, throws it in a trash contraption full to the brim with other cans. The trash contraption spits out mechanically “Capacity reached”. It twirls and compacts. Out of a tray at the bottom of the contraption a tiny thin element of aluminum rolls out to a stop at his shoe.]

Rick: Fu- Finally.

[Rick picks up the piece of aluminum snaps it on the spaceship quickly. Closes the spaceships hood. Rick kicks a blue cooler (its open lid allowing you to see several unfinished beers in the bottom) out of the way of his shelves. The cooler snaps shut and skids.]

Rick: Time for a real drink.

[Twisting a doohickey on one of the metal garage shelves, the shelf pulls forward and then to the side revealing a hidden set of shelves behind. The new hidden shelf holds rows of brown, clear, and gold bottles. Rick twists open and pours measures from three of the bottles into what looks like a homemade still. You watch the liquor run through a cooling mechanism to a tiny tub where an animated lemon with scars all over its outside slowly scrapes himself with a sharp instrument, then rolls around in the tub, screaming, in a mix of ecstasy and agony. The mixture comes to a Hawkeye still like spout where Rick drains the contents into his flask. He takes a hefty shot and his eyes flash yellow.]

Rick: (long satisfied belch)

[A truck with the logo 3 Beers for Beer pulls up outside. A short statured balding man with a goatee wheels three cases of beer on a dolly out the back of the truck. He wheels the beer in towards the garage. A guy from the passenger seat yells after him.]

Guy: Good work today Tom! Don’t drink that in one sitting. Go football! Right bro?

[Truck pulls off. As the man enters the garage, he pulls off his Mission Impossible like face-mask revealing Morty underneath. As he parks the dolly, he’s panting slightly.]

Morty: You know Rick sometimes I think you make your plans complicated on purpose (stuttering) I get confused and this doesn’t seem like the easiest way to do this.

Rick: Aluminum isn’t free Morty, sometimes when you’re a man you have to just act, you can’t be thinking all the time, hey is this plan perfect, is Morty gonna Get it.

[As the two are talking an insect sized drone flits into the garage. It tracks onto Rick and begins to hover above him.]

Rick: And anyway Morty it’s good for you (belch) to work a normal job. It makes you appreciate what we have Morty.

[A strand of spider silk begins lowering from the drone. On the end is a tiny mechanical tick. It drops into Ricks hair and disappears. The drone flies out.]

Rick: One day Morty, we know you Morty, you’re gonna say hey whats with all these crazy adventures I just wanna be a normal guy. Well there you go Morty, you wanna deliver beer your whole life?

Morty: (sad) No Rick

Rick: But there is one benefit to an honest days work Morty. That first beer after the end of a long day. You deserve it Morty.

Morty: Oh geez Rick I dunno.

[Rick opens the top case of beer. Takes out two cans. Examines them.]

Rick: Wha-what (belch) what is this Morty? Albania’s #1 export special?

Morty: The guys said I could just have it.

Rick: Never mind Morty. We’ll shotgun it.

[Rick opens a drawer, pulls out a short straw like device, stabs it in the bottom of a can.]

Rick: Here Morty-boy drink up.

[Rick puts the can and straw in front of Morty’s face. Morty sucks tentatively. The contents rush out and the can implodes. Morty stands perplexed, then his eyes roll back into his head. Rick takes the straw out of the imploded can. With a hissing pierce he stabs the second can. At that moment the camera moves omniscient and tumbles as we watch the tick bury into Rick’s skull. Rick sucks down the second beer. He looks at Morty, examining him. Morty’s asterisk pupils enlarge.]

Rick: Maybe I shouldn’t have done this to you Morty … I (burp) I just thought maybe you were becoming a man, it was time for you to live like a man … Shotgunning a beer, that’s a right of … What is this like 3% is this like kvass?

[Rick walks over and picks up a can.]

Rick: I’m having this rush, this propulsion of sobriety. Everything looks so vague. My eyes, they can’t focus. Why have I done what I’ve done? Where are we?

Morty: Earth C-137

[Morty burps then laughs and sits on the garage floor.]

Rick: What’s wrong with you Morty … what’s wrong with me?

[Rick pulls out his flask and draws on it until it empties. He walks out into the street and looks around.]

Morty: You’re right Rick, we did deserve this.

{Intro to the show! Blutto blutto blutto, bump waaaa and so on.}

[Rick’s garage is in disarray. Rick moves from one machine to the next, brewing liquids. A tack-board on the wall has entomology inspired pins of various nanobots. Putting a green potion on a burner, Rick turns away quickly and it boils over. Frustrated, Rick grabs the potion and throws it on the ground which is a disaster area of broken glass and metal fragments. Rick looks at his watch, begins muttering to himself.]

Rick: 4 hours, 240 minutes, 14,400 seconds … 14,33 ..8 seconds

[Morty knocks on the garage door while cautiously entering.]

Morty: Hey Rick, we all can’t help but notice a lot more smashing than usual going on in here.

Rick: I don’t have time for this Morty.

Morty: Maybe I could help, I like to think I’ve learned some stuff out there in the universe.

Rick: Oh yeah? Well you see this Morty? [Rick grabs a bottle of yellow liquid] This is Kentolian Moonshine Morty. [Rick grabs a funnel, lies on the floor, pulls down his pants and throws his legs in the air. Morty has a horrified reaction. Rick stands up.] I just butt-chugged one of the strongest liquors in the universe Morty, I should be off my tits. But no, look.

[Rick sticks out his hands crucifix style and slowly brings the tips of his fingers to touch his nose]

Rick: In four hours Morty it’ll be exactly one day since I’ve processed any alcohol.

Morty (still a little grossed out): You know I don’t get what the problem is Rick. Most people are sober all the time.

[Jump cut to: Summer standing outside the house sucking on a vaporizer and texting. Jerry in the bathroom painting his toenails and then sneakily huffing the nail polish. Finally, Beth sitting next to a box of wine, drinking, reading a magazine, Real Human Anatomy]

Rick: When have I ever made you believe I was like ‘most people’ Morty? [Resumes brewing concoctions] But there are some things I can’t understand. [Rick flips a switch which drops down a monitor on the back wall. The monitor begins playing a recording of their conversation in the garage from the day previous when the tick descended and dropped into his hair. It then focuses on the insect drone in close up.]

Morty: Wait, what is that Rick?

Rick: A cybernetic micro-organism designed for gene manipulation. I’ve taken it out, it’s there on the wall, but it doesn’t fit any known concept or design I’ve seen before. It’s crude yet clean. And I don’t know how that little drone got past the unmanned vehicle field.

Morty: Maybe there was a little man inside? Or woman, I-I-I don’t want to be sexist here, I mean, a woman can do anything a man can do or better, LGBT uh [Morty counts on his fingers] Q, R for the Romulans, M for the Mechanized phallus-es, S for the Sex Monsters

Rick: Morty, stop. You know how litigious the Sex Monsters get.

Morty (continuing unabated): Uh all those. Can’t tell me one sex has a monopoly on genius, we’re all the same … or wait no, we’re all the same … until that’s sexist against women, then we … oh no.

[Summer enters. Morty is pacing up and down the garage talking exaggeratedly to himself.]

Summer: Whats wrong with him?

Rick: Stuck in a gender sensitivity loop.

Summer [pulling out her vaporizer]: Hey Grandpa Rick, Denise at school can blow smoke rings inside other smoke rings. Do you think you could make it so I could blow a dragon or something?

Rick: Sure Summer, and why don’t I get you a wizard’s hat or cowl while I’m at it.

Summer: Cowl?

Rick: It’s a reference to the hood or covering … never-never mind Summer, I’m busy. You both need to leave me alone, I can’t concentrate and I can’t drink.

Summer: Can’t? What do you mean can’t?

[Jerry enters reading from a big book titled The Idiot’s Guide to the Multiverse.]

Jerry: Hey Rick, I think I’m still not getting this idea of infinite realities, they tell us to picture it like it’s the top of a really really huge box of spaghetti noodles, which would mean our universe is flat and long, that makes sense since I’ve been reading a lot about how the Earth is actually flat…

Summer to Jerry: Dad, you’ve literally been to other planets. How could the Earth be ..

Morty [breaking off from his distracted talking to himself]: Summer? So you know Denise, who used to be Dennis? The other day at school, I said: “Hey what’s up man?” I wasn’t thinking about it! You know, I say ‘man’ to everybody, regardless of their gender. Do-do you think I should apologize?

Rick: Oh dear God! I’m too sober for this!

[Rick has a moment of inspiration as Morty, Summer, and Jerry go quiet]

Rick: Man. Woo-man. No, it couldn’t be. Though who’d be devious enough to try and force me sober … again.

Morty: Who you talking about Rick?

Rick: She’s a master manipulator Morty … this is all planned, we can’t beat her Morty. I have to figure out what she wants, play her game, for now.

Summer to Jerry: I think sometimes he doesn’t understand that we don’t know what he’s talking about.

Jerry back to Summer: Right! God, thank you Summer. You know I always thought we were more alike than …

Summer: Whoa, pump the brakes their padre

Rick to Morty: If this doesn’t work their might be one other option, you think you could try something for me Morty?

Morty: Ok Rick

[Rick opens up a portal]

Rick: I need you to go talk to Him. I can’t do it. Living gods don’t play well with each other.

Morty: And what am I supposed to ask for?

Rick: Ask him if he can help get me drunk again, obviously.

Jerry: Now Rick, you don’t mean to send the boy out into a different universe by himself do you?

Rick: Stay out of it, Dr. Spaghetti

Jerry: Do you ever consider how dangerous your missions are? He’s my son, if he died I’d never forgive myself.

Rick: Fine, do whatever you want Jerry. It’s up to Morty. [He hands Morty his portal gun.]

Morty: Won’t you need this?

Rick: It’s your get out of jail free card Morty, I’m not gonna be looking over your shoulder on this one. Anyway, I have to stay here until this is over. That’s what she wants. Ju-just remember Morty. This guy knows everything and nothing. Don’t let him fuck with you Morty.

Morty: Ok … come on Dad. But, if you get in the way, I’ll, I’ll portal you back home.

Rick: Oooh really put the fear in him there Morty.

[Morty rolls his eyes, goes through the portal]

Jerry: You know the worst part about you moving in Rick. I used to be able to fake indignation with a modicum of dignity. Now I look ridiculous.

[Jerry marches through the portal]

Summer [sighing]: I better go with.

Rick: Good idea.

[Summer goes through the portal and then it closes. Rick goes to the edge of the garage and shifty eye’d looks up and down the street. Beth opens the garage door and walks in.]

Beth: Where did everyone go?

Rick: An adventure with-out me, I don’t have high expectations. Say sweetie [Rick turns around to look at Beth] You haven’t seen anyone who looks vaguely like Mom recently, have you?

[Beth: Shocked look]

[Jerry and Summer walk out of a portal into a crowded, busy, Old English capital city street. The setting is odd because the inhabitants seem depressed and poor, as if it were some time in the past. However the buildings have a faux look to them. The whole street is all bars and gift shops. It appears as if someone had recreated the look of a Victorian street but then neglected it so it had actually regressed into the past. This is Beer Town. One section in a series of alcohol themed “parks” ala Disney World.]

(Writers/imagination direction note: my initial idea for this story was reading about middle of the previous millenium cities. Where certain technologies allowed for a population boom, but a reduction in sanitation. Where I heard it said; that no one ever really drank the water. Everyone drank (low alcohol) beer all the time. It was a funny idea to me, everyone slightly drunk from the moment they woke up. This universe is a reflection of that, Bacchanalian.)

Summer: Where’s Morty?

[Morty walks back to Summer and Jerry carrying a stein of beer]

Morty: That lady asked me if I’d had my lunch yet [Morty takes a drink, makes a yuck face. Side of the stein says: All you can drink! The Tipsy Tipper]

Jerry: You can’t drink Morty, you’re underage!

[A group of children walk by, passing around a large bottle of wine]

Child 1: What is it for you today then?

Child 2: Diamond mines. You can usually hide a few in your pants, which is good for a roll in the tickle pit after. But swinging that pick does murder on my back. I just tell myself, you know you better watch it, you’re not five anymore.

Child 3: I’d kill for diamond duty, I’m harvesting mud for the mud baths. He says he needs fresh mud every week. It’s fucking mud!

[Jerry is predictably more confused than Morty and Summer]

Morty to Jerry (handing him the stein of beer): Here Dad you can have it. It tastes like-like porridge that’s sat in the bath.

Jerry: Where the hell are we?

Morty: Well, it’s definitely another universe, these look like humans and this like Earth but not our Earth.

Summer: But what, this Earth forgot to invent plumbing [holds nose at passerby] and deodorant.

Morty: First guess: it’s a universe where Rick took over the global government and officially made himself a god. I speculated that these must exist, but I never thought Rick’s Olympus would look so medieval.

[Jerry tastes the beer. He kinda likes it]

Summer: So … where do we find him?

Morty: I did find this map.

[Morty pulls out a colorful map packet, they all try and look at it.]

Morty: I guess we follow the booze.

[Meanwhile, back in Rick’s garage we see through Rick’s perspective in green vision x-ray goggles as he sits in a chair and looks through the closed garage door to the empty street on the other side. He removes the goggles and switches on the light.]

Rick: Screw this.

[In the light of Rick’s garage we see half finished inventions and ideas. He moves between three of them, turning a wrench then moving onto the next one. He’s mumbling to himself]

Rick: Paranoia? Why now? What’s the game? Self destruction? Don’t count on it baby, not this way.

[Beth enters the garage. She is hesitant but obviously curious.]

Beth: Dad? I’m sorry to bother you but I can’t not ask, what was this about seeing mom?

Rick: It was just a hypothesis sweetie. And look, I can’t tell you anymore about it, or your mom, though I know you’re curious. I can’t canonize her in that way, also, (yelling at the ceiling) cause she doesn’t deserve it! If your mother ever has anything more to say to you, she can say it herself. Though it’d probably be best if you heard it behind a sheet of indestructible glass.

Beth (mimicking her fathers erratic energy): This is exactly like a horse cast. When you start peeling it off you know it’s gonna smell like drowned dog, but you have to do it. You have to get it off … even if you know that horses with broken legs have a very high chance of recidivism and will never, truly, be themselves or totally healthy again … Did she love me? I don’t think I got to know who she actually was. Who was she?

Rick: She was a shapeshifter.

Beth: Like a literal, shapeshifter?

Rick: When I knew her, she was at least three different people … Gah, I can’t focus! [Rick throws down his tools] I can’t pick a plan or an angle, my mind’s in twenty different places at once. Don’t you find that’s what you get out of wine? You stop calculating and you choose. My plans don’t always make perfect sense but at least they’re something, I’m out of my head and I do them.

Beth: Yes (sigh) wine always treats me how I deserve … I may have a drinking problem.

Rick: Problems, solutions, it’s all bullshit! She thought she could turn me into something better. There’s no better, and if there is, there’s certainly a worse.

[Rick has a moment of realization]

Rick: (looks at the ceiling) Oh that’s what it is, is it? The worst huh, you want the worst? Hey sweetie can I borrow the car?

Beth: I have to go to work.

Rick: Oh right.

[Rick walks over to his shelf digs around. Finds a black box. He puts the black box on the ground, punches a code and up materializes a motorcycle. He sits on the bike and a black leather suit and black helmet Iron Mans around him. He revs the engine.]

Beth: Why did you even ask me for the car?

Rick (opening up his visor): I’m sober, Beth! (closes visor)

[Rick tears out into the street and down the block.]

Beth: Can’t drink before work, can’t drink before work. You can’t drink before work.

[Meanwhile, in the Bacchanalian universe: Jerry’s looking a little sloppy. He’s stumbling over the cobblestone path holding a stein of beer in each hand, trying to keep them from spilling. Morty is carrying a gift bag and Summer is looking at a map like document.]

Morty (looking at Jerry): I don’t think he should’ve had those shots in the Gin District.

Jerry: The waitress said I was handsome.

Summer (pointing at her map): So we started in Beer Town, weaved through the Gin District … and this street takes us toward Whacky Whiskey Westworld.

[Morty grabs the map]

Morty: But where’s Rick? [Scans map] Bourbon Hollar, Scotch Hovel, The Liqueur Swamp … Vodka Palace. I bet that’s it.

Summer (looking over Morty’s shoulder): That’s on the other side of town.

Morty: We just have to cut through this middle section Fine Roman Wines.

Jerry: Let’s go see the cowboys. That Yule Brenner was a handsome man. I should get a cowboy hat.

[Morty tugs at Jerry’s arm. Jerry follows walking and trying to take a sip of his beer.]

Morty: This way, this way.

[Morty and Summer lead and direct Jerry down cobblestone streets. The people on them are in turn happy and depressing. Think drunks in tourist towns except without the tourists. A shop closed up behind an iron gate features t-shirts and memorabilia with kitsch slogans. I survived tequila mountain. Etc.]

Morty: I’m having trouble getting a handle on what the, uh, sociopolitical climate is here.

Summer: Do gods even deal with politics? I thought that would be, like, one of the benefits.

Morty: Do people with some of the biggest egos in the universe end up dealing in petty power struggles and vain delusions of control and authority? Do …

Summer: I get it

[They approach a series of Roman looking buildings. From a large oval building labeled in Latin: Bathhouse, emerges a lithe young man of golden hair, wearing a toga.]

Young man: If you’ll follow me, we’ve been waiting for you.

[Morty and Summer nudge Jerry to follow, as he’s looking transfixedly at the boy]

Jerry: He’s so handsome. (As if having a moment of deep realization) We’re all handsome!

[Morty rolls his eyes and the group follows the young man through a roman archway, etchings of irreverent sexual positions are on the walls. They emerge, through steam, into an area consisting almost entirely of a large pool. Sitting in the opposite end, proportionately overweight, with a simple piece of cloth covering his genitals, there stands up in the pool Bacchus Rick (hence referred to as B Rick)]

B Rick: Welcome! We’ve prepared for your arrival. Although it’s really kind of a pity to send everyone away (looking forlornly around the pool). You haven’t really had a real hot bath until you’ve stewed with hundreds of other bodies, their smells and bacteria. The pleasures of communal bathing, take guidance (belch) and good wine. Please sit.

[B Rick walks up the pools graded steps. Sits at a table with a decanter and four glasses. Morty, Summer, and Jerry approach. Jerry is still holding two steins of beer. B Rick snaps his fingers and points at Jerry. The young man approaches Jerry and stands waiting. Jerry is confused. The young man holds out his hands.]

Jerry: I don’t have any money.

[The young man disgustedly snags the steins out of his hands sloshing beer out of them. They all sit at the table. B Rick begins pouring wine in all their glasses.]

B Rick: You don’t want anymore of that swill, this wine is from a grape I cultivated myself, first I genetically grafted chocolate and a pineapple …

Morty: Uh Mr. Rick, can I call you Rick? I’m sorry to interrupt, you got a real nice world here but I kinda need to get us on plot. My Rick, C137, he sent us to ask you …

B Rick (interrupting in return): So you guys didn’t come to visit Alcoholland?

Summer: Did you just say alco-Holland?

B Rick (sarcastic at first): Yes, young girl, I said alco-Holland … wait.

Jerry (sticking his nose in his wine): Al-co-hol-land

B Rick: Hmm, well whatever, maybe it’s a double meaning, a callback to ancient European states.

Morty: That’s what I’m confused about, is this like a world where you rolled back the clock or was it fucked up from the start? A dimension where they had never learned to build the airplane or something.

B Rick: Fucked up? Morty this is a paradise. (Takes a drink of wine) This is a world of pure joy, all the things I like all the time.

Morty: No I get it, it’s like an adult Disney World.

B Rick: Disney World? Like a calculated, manipulative, cultish cesspool? Which turns characters into “brands” to capitalize on the ignorance of children and the passivity of a working class who doesn’t want to examine what exactly their culture is doing to reinforce a moral heirarchy to keep those in power, in power?

Summer (pround of herself, takes a sip of wine): Think that’s hypocritical, even for you Rick. You’re literally selling a drug.

Jerry (putting down his wine after a big drink): I like Disney World. Did you know they do the Stars Wars now?

B Rick to Summer: Well as you can see, I can’t be selling because I’m not trying to make money. Anyway, Ricks stopped coming and it’s for the best. And you wouldn’t believe all the red tape trying to get Interplanetary Class J Galactic Clearance for Recreation, not worth it. No, Alcoholland, was better up here (taps skull) but sometimes you have to take an idea and just run with it. I’m not an artist, I don’t write poetry or paint, but my ideas are little poems, and like movements of those bowel, you have to get them out. Also, who could have known that cowboy androids were such morose drunks?

Morty (annoyed): Yeah ok, but (clears his throat) Ah Geez Rick, we really didn’t come to talk about this. My Rick, you see he can’t get drunk.

B Rick: Can’t? It’s not that complicated.

Summer: I didn’t catch it all, but he has like a virus or something.

B Rick: I’m sure it’ll pass. All neurological and electrochemical things come to an end. Why don’t we have some fun. It’s been years since I’ve had dimensional visitors. I could use some fresh eyes on my new project. Then we can go sit in the mud bath. Don’t worry, I get it fresh every week, mud isn’t like water, it can get real ..(holds his nose).

Morty (pulling out the portal gun): No, maybe we should re-group.

B Rick: A Morty with a portal gun. I’m impressed, your Rick must really trust you.

Morty: Well yeah, I like to think he has his moments.

B Rick: Either that or he’s far worse off than I thought. Come, indulge me. Maybe I’ll have an idea to help. (B Rick stands).

Jerry (finishing his wine): Do you think I could invite that waitress along? She just seemed fun.

Summer (taking a drink of her wine): Did you know I can basically time a conversation by the frequency of when you need your ego stroked.

Jerry (drunkenly): Pfft. Forget you. I’m on my own shiz.

B Rick (with condescending enthusiasm): This guy! I like this guy. (Motions to Jerry). Hey (belch) grab the wine.

[Checking back on sober Rick, in a possibly more interesting, but with less comedic potential B Story … Not that the whole script couldn’t use more jokes, like even right now, I could say something funny. Or in Dan Harmon’s words at the end of Community Season 6; this may be too conceptual to be funny.]

[Rick enters a dark, cool, David Lynchian bar room. His hair is slicked back like a greaser. He approaches the bar, sighs.]

Rick: Tonic water and lime.

[As the bartender walks away Rick pulls a cigarette out of a gold case which on one side heats up like an electric coil which Rick lights the cigarette on. As soon as it’s hot and red, the case is cold again. Rick slaps a 100 dollar bill on the counter and looks around the room. In the corner is a gorgeous woman drinking a large glass of something brown. Rick immediately walks towards her, and sits opposite her table.]

Rick: I knew I’d find you here, like so many lost days.

Eva (amused): Oh you did, did you?

Rick: But why back here? By yourself. What do you do now?

Eva: I’m an actress.

Rick: That fits

Eva: And yourself? You could act too, you’ve got that Richard Gere silver fox thing going on.

Rick (dragging on his cigarette): No not me, I’m not so desperate for validation.

Eva: Am I supposed to be offended?

Rick: Hey, that’s up to you. There’s nothing more personal, or stupid, and I know you’re not stupid.

Eva: I don’t think you know me at all.

[The bartender walks over and puts down Rick’s drink in front of him]

Rick: I know there’s only one person who could bring me back into this bar and order a tonic water.

Eva: I don’t know what you mean.

Rick: Fine. Hello. My name’s Rick, and I’m a super scientist/ex galactic federation prisoner/destroyer. You know, now that I think about it, there is good reason I don’t date. How easily do I sound like a crazy person?

[As Eva takes a sip of her drink. On her wrist is a small yellow box clasped by a band like a watch. The box splits down the middle and slides open. A small mechanical spider crawls up her arm and around her neck. Then climbs back down her arm and into the box.]

Rick: Nice watch.

Eva: You do have to admit, the Federation did open us up to a big new world of intergalactic tech. This takes all your vitals and gives you an electric massage. I got it out of a catalog.

Rick: I used to make you cooler stuff than that.

Eva: Oh yeah? Like what?

Rick: That sex swing, made out of time dilation mesh.

Eva: That’s right, you doubled your time. You went from finishing in 30 seconds, to a minute.

Rick: Hardy har. That’s just what we’re doing now? Little bits? (ha)

Eva: I don’t know what you’re doing (downs the rest of her drink) but I’m leaving. (Eva stands up to leave) This has been … interesting.

Rick: Wha-wait! You can’t just leave, what about me?

Eva: What about you?

Rick: My problem.

Eva: Well whatever it is, it’s not mine, and never was.

[The camera follows Eva as she walks away from the table. Rick fades into the background, at first looking exasperated, then with menacing stoicism he takes a drag off his cigarette.]

[Now we enter entirely into Eva’s perspective. In a Fincher like rain we see her exit the bar, pull the collar of her coat up to her neck and run to her car. With wet hair she drives down the freeway. As she flips through the radio she glances up to see a single headlamp flash into her rearview mirror before disappearing. Eva pulls up to her apartment fiddles with her keys, unlocks the door and enters. As she puts on a nightgown and prepares for bed she looks out the window. A rider in all black sits atop a motorcycle in the rain. As she lets the shade slide closed the sound of a motorcycle pulling off is heard.

The next morning Eva goes to work. Very brief clips of her driving, pulling into a studio. Inside the studio a bell rings, a guy yells “That’s an hour for lunch”. She exits a studio door and looks down at her phone. Looking up briefly she catches just a glimpse of a security guard turning away from her. Under the back of his cap you can see silver hair. Out for a drink at a bar with a coworker they sit behind the glass of a fancy restaurant. The motorcycle pulls up, pauses briefly in front of the glass, and roars off. Eva and her friend exchange looks. Now Eva is back at her apartment. She cautiously approaches the window. Outside there sits the rider in all black atop the motorcycle. Eva lets the drapes go and shivers. In what is presumably the next day, Eva is walking down a cold lonely street. Feeling very alone she looks over both of her shoulders and starts walking quicker. In the far distance we hear the sound of a motorcycle accelerating. Eva starts running. She rounds a corner and starts running faster and faster as she approaches her car. The motorcycle sound gets closer and closer. Just 30 feet from her car the motorcycle overtakes her from behind. The rider lays it flat and jumps off. The motorcycle turns back into a cube, and Rick reveals himself, flipping open the visor of his helmet. He now stands between Eva and her car.]

Rick: You have to tell me! Why are you doing this to me? What’s your game?

Eva (backing away): I don’t know you and I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.

Rick: Don’t play dumb with me, I’m sick of it.

[Rick approaches Eva with a steady rapidity.]

Eva: Look man, you’re weird and clearly on another level, but I don’t know you.

Rick: Nobody does, that’s hardly relevant. But you know what I’m capable of and you want to stop it.

Eva: Stop what!?

Rick (running up and grabbing Eva’s shoulders, shaking them): Who are you working for!? What do you want?

[At this moment a drone flits into frame. Hovering just above Rick’s head it launches off three colorful fireworks. Stately music plays. The drone speaks robotically. Rick stops grabbing Eva.]

Drone: Thank you for your participation in our experimental involuntary rehab program [algorithmic voice box sound] Jerry Smith. We hope you have appreciated the clear head and good thoughts! Please consider using our service again in the future.

[The drone emits another tick which bites Rick and the drone flies off.]

Rick: Huh?

[Flashback to Rick working in his garage. Jerry enters]

Rick (not even looking at him): If I’ve told you once … Jerry you can’t just come in here if you’re bored.

Jerry: I know I know (scuffing the floor like a child) but my iPad broke. When you fix it, could you make the upset birds a little easier to knock over?

[Jerry sees on the shelf a magazine]

Jerry: Hey what’s this? [Leafs through the magazine and begins to walk out.]

Rick (turning around): Be careful Jerry, that right there is like the intergalactic version of Sky Mall. We don’t need another automatic cat feeder situation.

Jerry: I still think that the Cat Buffet was poised to take off.

Rick: Jerry, you know when you say ‘cat buffet’ people think of a buffet of cats, not for them. You can’t just buy things and hope they pay off later.

[A leaflet flutters out the bottom of the magazine. Jerry reaches down and picks it up. The printing on it says FREE TRIAL OFFER!]

Jerry: Well fine, I won’t BUY anything.

[End Flashback]

Rick to Eva: Well, I guess I’m sorry. I get a little obsessive when I’m sober. And I guess it wouldn’t really make sense my 70 year old ex somehow became a thirty year old actress. Haha! Only time travel could do that. (belch) Hey, how about a drink? I’m (belch) overdue.

Eva: How about a restraining order?

[Back in the Bacchanalian universe. Bacchus Rick has thrown on a gray robe. He leads Morty, Summer, and Jerry through a plantation in the remnants of what was once clearly designed to be a palace garden. Some large shrubs still stand featuring gods and princes from many eras. There is a conspicuous absence of lady sculptures. And all the workers in the plantation seem to be relatively handsome young men.]

B Rick: You know how in old depictions of Greece you’d see them debauching, lounging around drinking wine and then eating grapes? How redundant and boring is that. But what’s the best kind of food in the universe?

Summer: There’s this taco truck by the mall, it’s only open from 2am to 5am Thurday and Friday nights

Jerry (trying to act cool): Pfft Summer you hipster. The best food is when a Japanese guy in a tall hat cooks it right in front of you, everyone knows that.

Morty: Uh skittles, no, uh Necco Wafers

B Rick: Gross Morty. No it’s the appetizer. The chicken wing, the jalapeno popper. If it’s fried you know it’s delicious. I’m developing my own concepts, perhaps to be built into a popular chain of approachable, non-intimidating drinking and eating experiences which appreciate the everyman. We’re cross breeding a jalapeno with an okra, then we stuff it with pimento and gouda, wrap it in bacon and fry it. Here try them (they pass by a station with a table and a keg of wine next to it. On the table are apps, each take one).

Jerry: Dear god, these are delicious!

Summer: I know I shouldn’t …

Morty (holding his app): Look Rick, I have to do what my Rick would do … I-I have to insist we try and stay on topic here. Do you or don’t you think we can do something for my Rick?

B Rick:: Come with me Morty. [motioning to Jerry and Summer] Please stay and help yourselves. If you walk a few paces that way you’ll find more food. There’s fried pumpkin spring rolls, and gooseberry chocolate taffy I believe. The other direction … spare rib and wild rice meatballs fried in olive oil.

[B Rick and Morty walk away. Jerry and Summer look at each other and scamper off around some hedges. As B Rick and Morty stroll through the garden Morty begins to observe all the young men, cultivating crops and sitting close to each other drinking wine.]

B Rick: You know Morty not everything needs to have a plot. You have to learn to be in the moment. Do we really need anything else? I think I know what kind of Rick your Rick is. He’s always rushing around trying to go on some new obscure adventure. Pushing himself or else he thinks he’ll get bored and dangerous. You see, all Rick’s have the same level of intelligence, the same synapses, and yet not all of us act the same. Some choose to create their own worlds or destroy them, while others work security at the Citadel. You know why that is Morty? Imagination. There are Ricks with an abundance and those with none. Your Rick has a superabundance but he doesn’t know how to channel it positively. Those with imagination, we need to scale back, appreciate the little things. The physical. Do you know what I mean?

Morty: I, uh I guess

B Rick (stopping by another table and picking up a bottle of wine): Do I look like a slavedriver? Doesn’t it look like we have fun? We work hard and play hard here. It’s an ideal life. You might come to like it.

Morty: My Rick can be a lot at times, but he’s the only Rick who really knows how to be a Rick. He’s the most Rick.

B Rick (smiling): Oh Morty, do you really believe that? (takes a slug of the wine, offers it to him. Morty sips then coughs)

Morty: I don’t have to believe it. I’ve seen it.

B Rick: And what do you see here?

Morty: I really don’t know … I don’t know why we came.

B Rick: Perhaps your Rick is testing you. You’re beginning to understand, other dimensions, realities. Who will you grow up to be? This is a good place to do that. To relax and think and just be.

Morty (observing a group of boys competitively rough housing): Rick, what happened to your Morty?

B Rick: Oh you don’t want to hear my tragic backstory.

Morty: Maybe I do! Maybe that’s the key to my being here!

B Rick: No, it’s not. Trust me Morty, I transcend story now. And you could too.

Morty (suspiciously): Maybe you just think you have to live without story, cause your life stopped making sense in any story like fashion. You had to become a god of all stories, because you could no longer be yourself.

B Rick: Oh boy, we have been indoctrinated haven’t we. Story helps with the illusion that you make choices which matter. There’s no such thing as love or passion or ‘your dream’. They’re extra physical concepts. Unlike blood Morty, you could rule with me here Morty. Look at all these boys, you could command their respect, participate in sport, drink whatever you want and break free from any societal versions of prudish morality.

Morty: I-I’m not sure … where are all the girls?

[B Rick takes Morty by the shoulders. He leads him to an area where shirtless boys box and wrestle with each other.]

B Rick: We’re going to be having our bi-annual olympiad next week so everyone’s in training.

[Morty looks at a group of six young men, sweaty and sort of lying on top of each other sharing wine]

Morty: Your version of training sure seems to involve a lot of wine drinking.

B Rick: It’s actually quite good for the circulation.

Morty: I gotta be honest with you Rick, this makes me uncomfortable.

B Rick: Oh don’t be silly Morty. You just need to get into it. Once you start wrestling the adrenaline gets going. Here (grabbing a jug) get some oil on your skin, it’s a great way to loosen up the muscles.

Morty (backing away): Uh, no no thanks.

B Rick: Oh come Morty, don’t be silly. You can do whatever you like it was just a suggestion.

[Morty begins to kind of jog away from him.]

Morty: No I better find my dad and sister, but thanks for the wine and uh (Morty runs off through a shrub which looks like a penis)

[Morty finds Jerry and Summer sitting and gorging themselves at a small round table.]

Summer (mouth half full): This is the kind of stuff Grandpa Rick should be doing.

Morty (looking over his shoulder): I’m not so sure about that Summer.

Jerry: I’m coming here for my next vacation.

Summer: Dad, you don’t have a job, you’re always on vacation.

Jerry: And here I thought we were having a really nice day.

[Morty opens up a portal.]

Morty: Come on you guys, this adventure’s over.

Summer: Morty you really have to try this, it’s like a pizza bagel except …

Morty: Seriously, I’m leaving

Summer: All right all right

Jerry: But we haven’t gotten to Westworld. And I’ve heard such good things!

[Morty stares him down]

Jerry (getting up): I’ll build my own portal gun. And I’ll get a cowboy hat, and I’ll travel from universe to universe saving damsels and …

[The three of them go through the portal. They arrive in Rick’s garage. He’s sitting in his chair tinkering with the black box and drinking.]

Summer to Jerry: And What?

Jerry: I thought when you transitioned through a portal you didn’t have to finish your thought.

Morty to Rick: You’re drinking?

Rick: (belch) Yep

Morty: What the hell happened?

Rick: Like usual, it was just your dumb dad.

Jerry: Huh?

Rick: By the way what did you ever do with that intergalactic Sky Mall? You’ve lost your privileges.

Morty: So what the hell did we do our adventure for?

Rick: What? Did you find something?

Morty: Well … no.

Rick: Hmm, figures.

Summer: It was kinda a great place though.

Jerry to Rick: What do you mean figures? I don’t think that’s very fair to the boy, he tried his best it was your dumb alternate universe that couldn’t do anything.

Morty: Hey, uh, thanks dad.

Rick: I’m sure it wasn’t Morty’s fault, Jerry, I meant it figures cause when you swap out the most intelligent person in the universe for YOU, I don’t have many expectations for that adventure.

Summer: So why don’t we ever go there? Why don’t you get along with yourselves?

Rick: No I remember, he was a great guy at first. He was one of the few Rick’s you could stand hanging around. But then if you turned your back for even a minute, for six or seven shots, he’d always take the Mortys aside and start giving em really weird lectures.

Morty: I don’t want to talk about it … I think I’m still processing it. Hopefully it was a tragic backstory thing, not … sexual.

[Beth enters the garage. In one hand holding a glass of wine, in the other a large poster board with writing and pictures.]

Beth: So Dad, as per our conversation about Mom I started doing some vision boarding, or collage whatever you want to call it and …

Rick: I’ll stop you right there sweetie. It wasn’t your mom. Hell she’s probably dead. She wanted out of our lives and there’s no reason she should ever be coming back, I’m sorry. Anyway, like all of our adventures this week, she’s a dead end, story wise. So we don’t even need to spend another minute talking about her or your board, or imagining what types of pictures should be on it, if, say, we were mocking it up for an animatic or something. We don’t need to bother parsing out what [Rick strains and squints at Beth’s board] what, “Horse surgeon = Mom at racetrack?” might mean.

Beth (drops the board): Phew (takes a drink of wine)

Jerry: And I am also glad. [Jerry walks over to Beth and puts his arm around her waist] Cause that story sounds like it would have nothing to do with me.

Summer: I’d like to talk about Grandma.

Rick: Maybe in a different dimension Summer. One with more color.

Morty: Never get your hopes up Summer, it’d probably just end up being Rick in a wig anyway.

Rick: Heck, I’d watch that! Haha!

{Credits! Me, and then of course, your imagination and the already created universe of the show. Also because we don’t actually have to pay for the rights, I Think I Love You by The Partridge Family is playing in the background.}


[The voiceover of a movie trailer guy is heard.]

Trailer: Coming this summer, terror has a new … enemy?

[Blam! The actress Eva kicks down a door. She’s holding a shotgun.]

Eva: Hey rapists (she cocks the gun) rape this!

[She fires the shotgun into the camera.]

Trailer: In a modern re-imagining of the Misogynist Clint Eastwood’s film from the 70’s, where he plays a wealthy playboy discjockey, I mean, come on. Eva Calderon brings justice to the streets.

[A bad guy is on his knees, he’s crying and speaking incoherently. Eva stands over him with a shotgun.]

Eva: Oh don’t play misty for me.

[Ka blam!]

[We cut to Rick and Summer in the living room watching the TV.]

Summer: What the hell’s going on? Is this inter-dimensional cable again?

[Morty enters eating ice cream.]

Morty: Who’s that sexy chick with a shotgun.

Rick: No Summer, this is our universe. It’s the one we deserve. Where everything’s a re-make or callback or reference. Fan fiction.

Morty (think Calvin and Hobbes): Blech!

Rick: Whatever happened to being original? Making unique content?

Summer: You know grandpa Rick, there’s nothing more derivative than talking about how everything is derivative.

Rick: Eh.


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