Don't Come Back For Me

*Taunting*

        A few weeks have gone by since the unintentional sleepover. When Rick had finally woken up, your poor little donger was so sore. Of course you told him what had happened, and of course he laughed. You did too, because, well let's face it, it was still funny as hell.

       You had taken a break from adventures for the time being, just taking a while to relax. You'd been building things together often, mostly destructive objects that could potentially take over the world. Rick had shown you his underground lab at one point, and you learned about Tiny Rick when you saw the dusty tubes caked in dried blood and preservative fluid and couldn't help but ask what the actual fuck had happened.

       But now you were on your way to God knows where, doing Satan knows what, and probably grabbing Gabriel knows whatever. Rick had decided to let you pilot, occasionally reaching over to adjust your steering. His hand would lay over yours and help you get a feel for the steering. Eventually, you got it, and were piloting like a pro. Rick gave you several compliments, and had begun to instruct you on how to properly land. Of course it was a little shaky, but he said it was much better than what Morty had done. On more than one occasion, he'd had to call an intergalactic towing agency and explain that his grandson had been driving because he was too drunk. A very, very believable tale.

       "Alright, eugh kid," he led you to a large building, "I don't care how you be-behave, but eugh under no circumstances do you let these-these assholes take you away. You kick ass if they try."

       As you walked, nodding in understanding, you found yourself surrounded by countless Rick's and Morty's. There were other individuals there, as well, but the duo seemed to be the most popular. There were multiple stalls with Morty insurance, weird looking plushies, coupons for free replacement Morty's, and so many more things. It was dedicated to the pair. Rick rolled his eyes and continued ushering you along, his hand on the small of your back as he pushed you in the direction he needed you to go in.

       After fifteen minutes of silent wandering, you found yourself in a large room, standing in front of multiple Rick's with important-looking clothes. "Swag," you shot finger guns at them, shoving your hands in your pockets with a bored expression a moment after.

       "What is your business here, 137?" The man to the far right from you growled out. You gaped, "Dude, you look like that Barbie thing from the Rugrats. You know, Cynthia? Dude, you let a toddler style your hair or something?" Rick let out a loud bark of laughter from behind you as the man scowled down at you. "Cranky mofo, that's fo sho." You cackled again, feeling your lab coat fall around you as you placed your hands on your knees and leaned forwards. Rick had let you bring glitter, something that made you especially happy, though he'd said that 'if you use it on me, I will kick your scrawny ass, princess'.

       Sure, it was nice that he finally noticed your real placement in this world, and that he was below you, but you really wanted to use it on him again. However, now that you were surrounded by what looked like douchier versions of him, you wanted to set up a glitter bomb and run.
Actually, you'd already brought one. Straightening yourself, you patted an inside pocket, feeling the device sitting near where the confetti bomb had been. "Always prepared," you mumbled, grinning slyly.

       "Who are you?" The Rick to your far left spoke up. You glanced over and absolutely lost your shit, stomping your foot and breaking out into a fit of laughter. "You look like... Jesus, you think that's cool? Is that what it is? You look like a cloud shat on your head or something. What the fuck is that? Did you throw your toupee in the dryer or something?"

       You threw your head back and high fived yourself, Rick losing his shit behind you.

       "Alright, hold on. Really," you wiped your eye, "who do you let style your hair? That's gold. I wanna meet this person, they're great. You," you pointed to the Rick to the right of the center, "look like somebody took Marge Simpson's hair, rolled it down, and pinned it to your head. You," you pointed to the Rick on the left if the man, "look like you belong in some Lord of The Rings shit. You just look like an idiot, and you look like my dad after I came out with my fairy wand." You pointed at the last two, losing your shit and laughing uncontrollably. All the Rick's before you scowled, grumbling amongst themselves.