A Final Season of Rick and Morty

0 -- Two Gods and President Morty

In an empty black space, Rick turns to the reader, unamused and holding his flask. "We haven't bleeped anything, because fuck you. Since when does anyone want words bleeped!? Are you—You're offended!? Don't you watch the show? ~URRP~ Go cry while the rest of us enjoy ourselves." He starts walking off screen, "Alright. Opening credits. Season 3 just ended," but trips over a happy little elephant. "WHY THE HELL IS THIS EVEN HERE?! This is a blank promo space, it doesn't even exist!!"

* * *

"Well I didn't exactly stay up late to raid human laboratories," Morty complains to Rick as they wall down halls.

"Yeah," Summer agrees, shooting a trashcan out of boredom.

Morty continues, "I mean Summer giving the Pompinipples some Tide Pods couldn't have killed them in every reality. They're not that stupid."

"Never underestimate stupidity Morty," Rick says. "And Summer's not that smart. Every one of their realities already invented Tide Pods and wiped themselves out. I just sold the leftovers to Tide to thin out the crowd at Walmart. They have the best underwear and it's not exactly safe for your mom to wash mine—Uh, well uh..." he trails off embarrassed.

Morty asks, "Then what about—"

"Why should I have to explain anything?" Rick barks. "Clearly supply-runs on Earth are a last resort," jabbing an elevator button over and over and fucking over again. "You never know what booger-picking prick is going to have their phone out and catch your face in their ninth selfie that day. Then bam, FBI burst in asking where their deadly specimens went and how all their security camera feeds got changed to porn. It's just ungrateful."

They find a door labeled DNA and start to walk in as Morty replies, "Well then—"

Rick sticks his finger on the DNA sign as he enters, "Nah ah ah," he hushes. "Do Not Answer," he jokes.

Summer groans, "Well can we at least get our DNA tested here, or something illegal? Becky's AncestryDNA says she's related to Genghis Khan, and everyone liked her post."

"(Dumb)," Morty mutters. "(Everyone's related to him.)"

Rick says, "Exactly. The only valuable thing anyone learns from Ancestry DNA is you still have an identity crisis."

"Not if you did it," Summer says. "Yours are better, right?" she teases.

Rick rolls his eyes at himself, trying not to want to prove her wrong, "...You're not going to feel any more sense of belonging by wearing African beads, or knowing that everyone who could have accepted you is dead. Just pick a sports team and use 'we,' like the rest of the idiots. Don't bring me into this."

As Rick starts sifting through supplies and tosses a few into a portal, Morty chimes in, "I still think it would be cool."

"Yeah," Summer says. "It'd be cool to be part black."

Morty gets disturbed, "What—No, Summer. I just meant it'd be cool to see we're not all different from each other—I—I mean we're already not, but, but visually w—"

Rick face palms, "Morty. No one's great-grandpa married his slaves. It would basically show you how many of your ancestors are rap—"

A portal opens. Another Rick pops out and starts grabbin' shit.

"Hey!" Rick protests.

"Jesus!" the other Rick says, startled. But he doesn't stop pocketing supplies.