Drunk Beginnings (Rick and Morty Fanfiction)

Chapter 1

Author's Note

Yo if you don't have a dad that's legit, just plug in whatever you want to okay? Cool enjoy

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         Muffin crumbs bounced off my maroon sweater with black drawstrings as I hurried out my front door. I was about to leave when my dad grabbed my wrist back inside. 

           "Woah Woah Woah! Where you headed off to so quickly? And without a goodbye hug?" I looked up into my dad's bespectacled eyes. He had a kind waiting smile on his face. 

            "I was just gonna get the pawnshop opened early. I figure maybe some customers want to...pawn early. You know..to beat traffic." I say as straight and true as possible, although I'm not very convincing when my eyes shift to think of an excuse. My dad thinks this over and beams a bright smile, like the rising sun.

             "My little girl becoming a businesswoman already. Proud of you kid. You'll take on New York soon enough." I smile at his praise. "Just watch out for any weird customers alright? You do have the right to refuse service to anyone." He said. I nodded, keeping Rick and Morty in the back of my head. 

              "Yeah, I know. Thanks, dad. I'll be back long before dinner okay? Love you." He said he loved me too and kissed my forehead, brushing my braided hair behind my ear and giving multiple kisses to my right eye. I squinted and pushed him away playfully. "Daaad come on!" I said with a smile. I finally left. I descended my residence steps and headed to the pawnshop. Never had I been more eager for business. I couldn't explain it. It was like the promise of a more exciting business after yesterday's incident as if the event would unlock more and more interesting people to fly through the door of the pawnshop. Rick wasn't the first person I would like to have back at the shop, but there was just something about him that I couldn't explain. Morty too. I had no idea why though. 

         I finished my muffin and took out my key to unlock the shop door, but I hesitated. The street was alive with buses taking children to school and cars carrying groggy patrons to their daily commute, but even through the early morning commotion and the wind breezing through the trees, I could hear a conversation on the inside of the shop. I took my key and unlocked the stubborn spring lock, and gingerly pressed the creaking door open, the bell slowly ringing as I entered. 

        The shop was unnaturally dark as it was still the early hours of the morning. I heard shuffling inside the shop, voices low and grumbling. The voices were close, but far away enough for me to enter the building undetected. I stayed close to the door, reaching into my pocket and flicking out a silver bladed pocket knife. I was prepared to fight for the shop and it's contents no matter how much I hated it. I held my breath and tightened my grip on the blade. I turned on the light and popped from behind a box to see the trespassers. 

            "Woah Woah Rambo, wanna c-*eeeugh*-ool it with the knife?" Said a familiar voice. I was so shocked at the revelation I dropped my knife, the weapon clattering to the floor. 

             "Rick?" I questioned. Morty popped up from behind Rick. "Morty?" I squinted one eye in disbelief. 

              "Hey," Morty said while waving. 

                "What the hell are you guys doing here? It's seven o'clock in the goddamn morning and you're looting my shop!" The realization made me madder. I raised my voice with wide hand gestures. "How did you even get in? The windows have been locked and bolted for years! And they're so caked with dirt and grime they're practically bullet-proof! More importantly, why the hell-" Rick interrupted my tirade.