rick sanchez x reader

Get Schwiftyyy

"The view here is the same as yours, Jim. A giant head has entered Earth's gravity, triggering climate change and natural disasters we thought were impossible for at least another eight years." The anchorman informed us.

"Let's not make this political, Terry. Do we know what this giant head wants?" Jim said from the studio. The Giant Head clears its throat, creating a large wind blast, knocking people and cars over.

"SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT." The winds outside pick up with its speech.

"Jim, you heard," The tv statics before continuing, "said, 'Show me what you got'."

"SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT. I WANT TO SEE WHAT YOU GOT." The lamp post falls over and Terry rushes out of the way. Rick turns off the TV, gets up off the couch.

"Oh boy. Time to go." Rick says.

"Uhh, where?" Rick puts on sunglasses.

"The Pentagon. I mean, not THE Pentagon." Rick belches. "The lame one, here on Earth." I mock him before heading into the garage. In the ship we leave the garage and meet Jerry, Summer and Beth. 

"Dad, what do you know about this?" Beth asks over the rushing wind.

"Morty, Y/N and I are going to look into it. You guys hold tight." Beth nods and we fly off. Parking outside, Rick grabs his portal gun and walks through.

"Why didn't we just teleport in the first place, damn." I huff. Walking through guns are immediately pointed at us.

"I hate to shatter your ego, but this isn't the first time I have had a gun pointed at me." I cross my arms at one of the boys.

"Stay back! This watch turns people into snakes!" Rick commands, the guards stop and look at the General for approval. He nods at them, and the guards aim. Rick fires a laser at the guards and they disappear, leaving only snakes.

"Stand down. Everybody stand down! I'm the leader of these people and I'm unarmed. There's no need for any more snake-makery." The president says.

"My name is Rick Sanchez. This here's my grandson Morty." Rick drinks from his flask. "And my girl, Y/N." I melt a little inside when that processed in my brain.

"Hi, Morty and Y/N." The people at the table drone.

"Hey." I rub the back of my neck and Morty awkwardly waves.

"I've seen enough of the galaxy to know that what we've got here is a Cromulon from the Cygnus-5 Expanse. So you can forget about nukes, and you can forget about math." Rick points to viewscreen showing the floating head. "This head won't go away until Earth shows them it's got a hit song."

"You mean like Vivaldi?" Some intern asks over the whispers.

"No, Frasier. A live performance of a newly-written, catchy, original song. The Cromulon feed on the talent and showmanship of less-evolved lifeforms." I say, nearing Rick's side.

"All right, all right. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez. Change of plan, people. Get me Pharrell, Randy Newman, Billy Corgan, and The-Dream." No one responds. "The-Dream? He wrote 'Umbrella' and 'Single Ladies'? You people haven't heard of The-Dream?"

"You're gonna wanna put them on that giant speaker system at your sonic testing facility at Area 51." Rick says, tucking his sunglasses in his shirt.

"How do you know about that?" The General growls.

"For God's sake, Nathan, the man turns people into snakes. He can use Google Maps." I chuckle at the President but someone with a phone stops me.

"Sir! Pharrell, Newman, Corgan, and that Dream guy. They're all dead."