Mortynight Run

[Open Ext. Rick's Ship in Outer Space]

(Morty drives, Rick sits in the passenger seat, and Jerry is in the back.)

Rick: Learning to fly this thing, Morty, it's gonna be really liberating. Y-Y-You’re gonna be free to go on all kinds of errands for me.

Morty: Cool.

Rick: *points out the window* See that planet right there? Don’t fly too close to that planet. Someone’ll come out and try to wash your windshield. (Rick’s phone rings.) Hold on. *picks up* Yup. Yeah, I have it. Where do you wanna meet? Alright, cool. *hangs up* Alright Morty, lesson’s over. We got some business to attend to a few lightminutes south of here.

Jerry: Oh, you still use ‘south’ in space?

Rick: *startled* WHOA! Jesus, Jerry, what the hell are you doing here?!

Jerry: What are you talking about? We agreed a boy’s father should be present when he’s learning to drive.

Rick: I guess I remember that. *rubs forehead* Wow. And you’ve just been back there this whole time? Amazing. Well we don’t have time to take him to Earth, Morty. Head for 3124-917.

Jerry: *chuckles* Cool! Looks like I’m comin’ along for an adventure!

Rick: Yep.

[Trans. Empty space]

Morty: This is where we’re going?

Rick: Nope. (An asteroid-like mass materializes before them.) This is. You can park in a handicapped spot, Morty. Anything with less than eight limbs is considered disabled here.

(Morty parks clumsily.)

[Trans. Int. Jerryboree]

(Human Music plays in the lobby as Rick signs Jerry in.)

Jerry-Sitter: Well look at this fella. *pinches Jerry’s cheek* Aren’t you handsome?

Jerry: Thank you! I’m Jerry. *extends hand*

Jerry-Sitter: *as if speaking to a child* Oh, I know you are. Did you come here in a spaceship?

(She guides Jerry through a set of doors.)

Jerry: I’m travelling with my son and father-in-law. Uh, wait, are they coming?

Jerry-Sitter: Oh, they’ll be back soon.

Jerry: What?

(A set of sliding doors open, revealing a room full of Jerrys from different dimensions.)

Pajama Jerry: I don’t know how this works!

Underpants Jerry: Help me!

Jerry: What the hell?

Pajama Jerry: I know, right?

Tuxedo Jerry: *enters room* Oh, what the hell?

Jerry: I know, right?

[Trans. Jerryboree Lobby]

Morty: *looking at a pamphlet* Jerryboree? You created a daycare for my dad?

Rick: You kidding? I wish I had this idea. Well… I did have this idea, but I wish I was the version of me that owned it. That guy’s rich.

Receptionist: Don’t forget to check the reason for your drop-off.

Rick: *checks off “Stowaway” and “Annoying me”* Trust me Morty, I’ve heard stories from other Ricks. Jerrys don’t tend to last five minutes off of Earth. This is a totally unregistered cross-temporal asteroid. Here they can romp and play with other Jerrys. It couldn’t be safer.

(As they walk out, Rick hands Morty a ticket.)

Rick: Hey Morty, hang onto this. That number’s your dad. If you lose it, we’re not gonna be able to get him back.

[Intro sequence]

[Trans. Parking garage]

(Morty parks the ship clumsily, damaging nearby vehicles.)

Rick: Okay, wait here.

Morty: I wanna come with.

Rick: Don’t come with. It’s boring, it’s *burps* business stuff.

Morty: What kinda business do you do in a garage? You know, this seems a little shady.

Rick: Right, like nothing shady ever happened in a fully furnished office? You ever hear about Wall Street Morty? Y-You know what those guys do in th—in their fancy board rooms? They take their balls, and they dip ‘em in cocaine, and they wipe ‘em all over each other. You know, Grandpa goes around, and he does his business in public because Grandpa isn’t shady.

(Krombopulos Michael knocks on Rick’s window.)

Rick: Ah, crap. *rolls down window* Hey, what’s up?

Krombopulos Michael: Hey, Rick! Haha! Here you go, three thousand Flurbos! D’you have the weapon?

Rick: Can… Can we please…? This is my grandson, Morty.

Krombopulos Michael: Well hi Morty! I’m Krombopulos Michael! I’m an assassin. I buy guns from your grandpa.

Rick: Ugh. *passes Krombopulos Michael a case containing the antimatter gun* Here, now go away.

Krombopulos Michael: *examines weapon* Ooh, yeah, this looks deadly. So this shoots antimatter? My target can’t be killed with regular matter. Nice to meet you, Morty! Listen, if you ever need anybody murdered, *passes Morty his card* please give me a call. I’m very discrete—

Rick: Y-Y-Y-You’re gonna give him your card?!

Krombopulos Michael: I have no code of ethics, I will kill anyone, anywhere! Children, animals, old people, doesn’t matter. I just love killin’!

(Krombopulos Michael leaves.)

Morty: …You sell weapons to killers for money?

Rick: Ugh… You’ve got what the intergalactic call a very planetary mindset, Morty. It’s more complicated out here! These are Flurbos. Do you understand what two humans can accomplish with three thousand of these?

Morty: Uh, what?

Rick: An entire afternoon at Blips and Chiiiitz!

[Trans. Blips and Chitz]

Rick: Aw, this place is the best. It’s got beer, games, prizes, and you can never tell what time it is.

Morty: You sold a gun to a murderer so you could play video games?

Rick: Yeah, sure, if you spend all day shuffling words around you can make anything sound bad, Morty. *puts a helmet on Morty’s head* Here, check this out.

(Morty’s eyes roll back into his head.)

[Trans. Roy’s room]

Roy: Ah!

(Roy wakes up, frightened and panting.)

Roy’s mother: Roy, what’s wrong?

Roy: I…had a nightmare. I was with an old man… He put a helmet on me.

Roy’s mother: It’s just a fever. Get some sleep, I don’t want you missing school on Monday. *walks out of the room and switches off the lights*

[Trans. Roy’s school]

Teacher: I want you kids to look around you today and think about your future. (Roy looks outside and sees kids playing with a football. He smiles.) Now is the time in your life when anything is possible.

[Trans. Football game]

(Roy is now older, and a football player.)

Announcer: Spiraling perfectly, it’s gonna be caught by Roy Parsons! Roy Parsons is at the 20! (Roy makes eye contact with a girl in the stands.) Now he’s at the 10! Nothing can stop Roy the Rocket! Touchdown!

[Trans. Roy’s kitchen]

(Roy is older, now married to the girl from the football game with a young son. They’re eating dinner.)

Roy’s wife: I just think it’s time to get realistic. Have you talked to my father about the carpet store? Roy?

[Trans. Carpet store]

(Roy now works at the carpet store. He gets a call from his doctor.)

[Trans. Doctor’s office]

Doctor: Had we caught it sooner… Well, hindsight is 20-20, Roy. What’s important is that we move quickly.

[Trans. Hospital room]

(Roy is battling cancer. His wife, older, sits with him.)

Roy: I’m not…ready to die…

Roy’s wife: *takes his hand* You’re not going to.

[Trans. Roy’s house]

(Roy survived surgery. His wife wheelchairs him into the house, where friends and relatives applaud his entry. A streamer reads “CANCER CAN’T BEAT THE ROCKET”)

[Trans. Carpet store]

(Roy is older still, now greying and wearing glasses.)

Customer: Hey, thanks for the carpet, Roy.

(Roy shakes his hand, then sits and looks fondly at a trophy that reads “World’s Greatest Dad.”)

Voice: *shouting from off screen* Hey Roy, you pull those Persian off-white shags for the clearance sale?

(Roy gets up and steps onto a short ladder to retrieve the rugs. He loses his balance.)

Roy: Whoa. Sh-shit! Shit!

(He hits the ground and dies. Text reads “GAME OVER”.)

[Trans. Blips and Chitz]

(Morty regains consciousness and removes the helmet, frightened and confused.)

Morty: Whoa! What the hell?! Wha—Where am I?! What the hell?!

Rick: Fifty-five years. Not bad, Morty. You kinda wasted your thirties though with that whole birdwatching phase.

Morty: *looks around, grips his head* W… Where’s my wife?

Rick: Morty. You were just playing a game. It’s called Roy. Snap out of it, come on. *hands him his tickets*

Morty: I’m Morty… You’re Rick… Hey, you sold a gun to a guy that kills people!

Rick: Lookit this. You beat cancer and then you went back to work at the carpet store? Boo.

(Rick sits in the seat to play Roy.)

Morty: Don’t dodge the issue, Rick! Selling a gun to a hitman is the same as pulling the trigger!

Rick: It’s also the same as doing nothing. If Krombopulos Michael wants someone dead, there’s not a lot anybody can do to stop him. That’s why he does it for a living? Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to thrash your Roy score. *puts on the helmet*

Morty: You could stop this killing from happening, Rick! You know, y-you did a bad thing selling that gun, but you could undo it if you wanted!

Rick: Uh-huh, yeah, that’s the difference between you and me, Morty. I never go back to the carpet store.

Alien: *passing by, sees Rick playing Roy* Holy shit! This guy’s taking Roy off the grid! (Other alien patrons gasp and congregate around Rick.) This guy doesn’t have a social security number for Roy!

(Morty looks at Krombopulos Michael’s business card, which shows his location, and walks away.)

[Trans. Jerryboree]

(Jerry approaches the Jerrysitter from earlier.)

Jerry: Hi, I’m sorry, I think there was a misunderstanding. I’m an adult and would like to go home, please.

Jerry-Sitter: Well of course! Right through that tube. *points to a tube in the wall*

Jerry: *muttering to self* Unbelievable. *approaches the tube and starts climbing in*

Jerry-Sitter: You’re doing great!

Jerry: *indignantly* I know how to crawl in a tube. *to himself, while crawling* Ugh… Come on… This is harder than it looks… (Suddenly the tube transitions into a slide.) Whoooooaaaa!

(Jerry lands in a ballpit in an area designed similarly to the Smith house. Other Jerrys are in the ballpit playing Marco Polo.)

Pink-shirt Jerry: Marco? (Jerrys laugh.) Marco?

Other Jerry: Come find me.

Pink-shirt Jerry: Marco? (Jerrys laugh again.)

(Our Jerry seems disturbed.)

Jerry: You guys are enjoying this? Don’t you feel a little… patronized?

Pink-shirt Jerry: How so?

(Someone dressed in a large Beth costume approaches the ballpit.)

Daycare Beth: Jerry!

Other Jerry: Beeeth.

Jerry: Oh, come on, this is ridiculous!

Daycare Beth: I love you, Jerry!

Jerry: Aw… Beth…

Daycare Beth: Who wants to come watch Midnight Run with director’s commentary on?

Jerrys: Oh! Yes! Definitely!

Daycare Beth: First one there gets to adjust the picture settings!

(Jerrys become more excited.)

Jerry: The factory tint setting is always too high! *climbs out of the ballpit and hurries after “Beth” with the other Jerrys*

Other Jerry: Out of my way!

Another Jerry: The factory tint setting is always too high!

[Timeskip]

(Daycare Beth sits on a couch with a Jerry on each side of her and dozens of other Jerrys surrounding them, watching Midnight Run.)

[Trans. Government outpost]

(Krombopulos Michael prepares to carry out the hit. He holds up a heart shaped locket with a picture of a presumed romantic partner in it, kisses the locket, and puts it away.)

Krombopulos Michael: Oh boy, here I go killin’ again!

(Krombopulos Michael sneaks through the building, killing several Gromflomite guards along the way before arriving in the chamber his target is kept. His target appears to be a strange, gaseous being. Krombopulos Michael draws his weapon, but before he can shoot, Morty crashes Rick’s ship through the ceiling, crushing him.)

Ship: You have arrived at Krombopulos Michael. Your destination is below.

Morty: *dazed* All out of off-white Persians… *gets out of the ship and realizes he killed Krombopulos Michael* Oh man, wha-wh-wh-what have I done?! *picks up KM’s arm and the antimatter gun*

Gromflomite: (pointing a gun at Morty) Drop the gun!

Morty: You don’t understand! This guy was gonna kill someone!

Gromflomite: I guess that makes two of us. *fires up his weapon*

(A portal forms through the guard, bisecting him down the middle, and Rick walks out of it.)

Rick: What are you doing Morty?! This is a Galactic Federation outpost! Look, I don’t have time to tell you my entire backstory, but Grandpa and government don’t get along!

Fart: You saved my life!

(Rick and Morty both turn to face the gaseous being.)

Rick: What?

Morty: Huh?! Are you Krombopulos Michael’s target? W-Wwwwhat’s your name?

Fart: My kind has no use for names. I communicate through what you call “Jessica’s feet.” No, “telepathy.”

Rick: Oh, good job, Morty. Y-Y-Y-You killed my best customer but you saved a mind-reading fart!

Fart: I like this name, ‘Fart.’ Morty, would you kindly release me by pulling that lever to the left of my cell? I am in great pain.

Rick: Morty, don’t do it. (Morty walks toward the lever.) Morty… (Morty glances at Rick before pulling the lever. Alarms start to sound as Fart escapes his cell.) Morty, you idiot!

Morty: Oh crap, let’s get you outta here!

Rick: We can’t get him outta here. He’s gaseous. He’s not gonna make it through a portal, Morty.

Morty: *stomps past Rick* Well then I guess we’re all getting in the car! Right, uh…

Fart: Fart.

Morty: No! Jus-j-j-just get in the car!

(Fart floats into the car and Morty sits in the driver’s seat.)

Rick: Morty, come on, I-I wanna go back to Blips and Chitz. I don’t wanna deal with this!

Morty: Y-You’ve been clear on the fact that you don’t wanna help, so just go away!

Fart: More are coming.

(Rick starts walking off.)

Rick: Screw this. I’m out.

(Rick forms a portal and leaves through it. Morty tries to start the car as a Gromflomite approaches, but it stalls.)

Morty: Oooh…! Come on, come on!

Gromflomite: Get out of the vehicle made of garbage or we will open fire!

Morty: *still trying to start the car* Oh no no no!

Gromflomite: Open fire!

(A portal appears directly above the guards and water pours out of it, flooding the room. Another portal appears on the floor, and the water and Gromflomites are sucked into it. A third portal then appears and Rick emerges through it, walking up to the car.)

Rick: Stupid-ass fart-saving carpet-store motherfucker! *shoves Morty out of the driver’s seat and takes the wheel* Move!

(Fart moves to the backseat as Morty takes the passenger seat.)

Rick: Wait, did you fuck with my seat settings?

(Morty buckles up and Rick begins adjusting the seat settings.)

Fart: More are coming.

(More Gromflomites storm into the room. Rick continues adjusting the seat.)

Morty: Rick!

Rick: Yeah, yeah. (He crashes the car into the Gromflomites before flying away from the outpost.)

[Trans. Gear World, Int. Gearhead’s shop/residence]

(Rick, Morty, and Fart wait while Gearhead works on the car. Morty and Fart are watching Gazorpazorpfield.)

Gearhead: Your geldon convertor is pretty dinged up.

Rick: That’s ‘cause my grandson drives like a male Obavradian. Yeah, I said it. Some stereotypes are based in fact.

Gearhead: Actually, it’s because of years of neglect. You really need to respect your gears, Rick. To you, they’re just wheels with teeth, but in my culture, wars have been fought, entire—

Rick: *interrupts him* So I’ve heard. Just fix it. *to Morty* I don’t think the Gromflomites can track us now, but it looks like we’re gonna be here for awhile. *lowers voice* Or, ya know, if you still have that gun K. Michael dropped, we can finish the job and go home.

Fart: You do understand I’m telepathic, right?

Rick: I’m being polite.

Morty: Rick, we’re taking him back where he belongs!

Rick: Yeah, where’s that? Are you going on a quest to find he who smelt it?

Fart: I came here accidentally through a wormhole located in what you call “get out of my head, Fart, I know you’re in here, la la la la—” No, in what you call the Promethean Nebula.

Rick: Oh great, just a hop, skip, and an 800 lightyear jump!

Morty: You know, you can leave any time you want, Rick.

Rick: *walks away, muttering* Whatever you wanna do you little punk-ass little bitch…

Fart: Thank you, Morty. You are not like other carbon-based life forms. You put the value of all life above your own.

Morty: That’s how things should be. It’s how they could be.

Fart: I could not agree more.

(Fart envelops Morty as “Goodbye Moonmen” begins.)

Fart: (singing over a montage formed from Morty’s imagination) The world can be one together / Cosmos without hatred / Stars like diamonds in your eyes. / The ground can be space (space, space, space, space) / With feet marching toward a peaceful sky. / All the moonmen want things their way / But we make sure they see the sun. / Goodbye, moonmen / You say goodbye, moonmen. / Goodby—

Rick: *holding a golf club* Shut the fuck up about moonmen! This isn’t a musical number. This is a fucking operation, we gotta be cool and fucking lay low!

[Trans. Jerryboree]

(A roomful of Jerrys on computers forward each other joke emails.)

Random Jerry: *opens email and laughs* Duck, duck, birdie? (All Jerrys open emails and laugh.) Very funny!

Jerry: Here comes another funny…

Other Jerry: Hahaha! Oh, this place is great.

Jerry: I almost wish I could stay longer than one day.

Other Jerry: *suddenly serious* You just might.

Jerry: W-What do you mean?

[Trans. Room of Forgotten Jerrys]

(The other Jerry from before leads our Jerry inside.)

Other Jerry: These are the Jerrys whose Ricks and Mortys never came back. (Forgotten Jerrys stand, sit, and lie around the room, generally looking despondent.) …They live here now.

Jerry: Uuuum…

[Trans. Gearhead’s place]

(Gearhead continues working on the car while the others watch Ball Fondlers. The show is cut off by Breaking News.)

Gear Anchor: No gear turnings as of yet in the curious case of these unidentified humanoid fugitives (An image of Rick and Morty in the car as Rick was adjusting the seat settings appears onscreen.) reportedly at large somewhere within the Gear System.

Rick: Son of a… *approaches Fart* Why were the Gromflomites holding you prisoner? What the fuck is so valuable about you?

Fart: I am no more valuable than life itself. However, I am able to alter the composition of atoms, like this. (An electric fuzz seems to go through the gaseous cloud and a lump of gold materializes, dropping to the ground beneath him.) That was oxygen. I added seventy-one protons to it.

Rick: *picks up the gold* Ah, terrific. The fart that pooped gold. No wonder every cop in the system is lookin’ for us! *pockets gold* Any species that gets a hold of this thing is gonna use it to take over the galaxy. Do you know how inconvenient that’s gonna be to my work?

(Sirens sound outside. Rick rushes to the window and sees police in flying vehicles have surrounded the place.)

Rick: Somebody dropped the dime on us. Gearhead… *turns around*

Gearhead: *pointing a gun at Rick* I’m sorry, Rick. The reward on your head is too high. And like you always say, you gotta look out for Number One.

Rick: Number One is me, asshole! You’re supposed to be my friend!

Gearhead: Friend? Do you even know my real name? It’s Revolio Clockberg Junior. I belong to an entire species of gear people. Calling me ‘Gearhead’ is like calling a Chinese person ‘Asia-face.’

(Rick notices a nearby box of twigs, marked with a warning. He throws them at Gearhead and they get caught in his mouth, causing him to drop the gun.)

Gearhead: No, not twigs!

(Rick kicks Gearhead in the crotch, removes his gear-testicles, pulls two gears out of his mouth, and shoves the gear-testicles in their place while Gearhead moans in pain, clutching his mouth and groin.)

Rick: Two things I wanna make clear to everybody in this room. Never betray me, and it’s time to go.

(Rick, Morty, and Fart get in the car and fly out through a window. Two gear police enter.)

Gear Policeman #1: Nobody move!

(Gearhead waves his hands, trying to communicate. The officers see how he’s been disfigured.)

Gear Policeman #2: Oh my god.

Gear Policeman #1: Are those…?

(Both vomit oil and metal.)

[Trans. Ext. Gear World]

(Rick leads police on a flying chase, shooting and driving at the same time. Numerous police cars crash, killing officers and civilians.)

Rick: Hey Morty, remember when you said selling a gun was as bad as pulling the trigger? How do you feel about all these people getting killed because of your choices?

Morty: I did the right thing, Rick!

Rick: Tell that to Gearhead’s gearsticles.

Morty: You did that!

Rick: Wrong! I’d be playin’ Roy right now. At a certain point, my hands are tied, Morty.

(Both don expressions of surprise as helicopters appear in front of them. Rick quickly steers the craft away and the chase continues.)

[Trans. Forgotten Jerrys room]

Jerry: *playing poker with other Jerrys, sighs* I can’t believe Rick did this. This is the eighth to the last straw.

Bearded Jerry: Ante up.

Jerry: You know what? *throws down cards* Screw it! I have a better gamble for your guys. * leans forward* I say we escape.

(Other Jerrys stare at him for several seconds.)

Bearded Jerry: If you want to leave, you can just go out the front door.

Tank-top Jerry: You think we’re kept here against our will? That would be illegal.

Jerry: But… If you can leave, then why are you still here?

Buzzcut Jerry: Same reason as you. *looks to other Jerrys for confirmation* …We’re Jerrys.

(Jerry stands in disgust.)

[Trans. Jerryboree lobby]

(Jerry is marching out.)

Jerry: I’m leaving.

Jerry-Sitter: Okay then, that was always allowed.

[Trans. Gearworld]

(The chase is still on. Rick stops his vehicle, and Gromflomite ships pass him, giving him a chance to shoot them. He drives off again and pulls out a gun.)

Rick: Morty, take the wheel!

(Rick and Morty clumsily swap seats.)

Morty: Whoa, whoa!

Rick: Whoa!

(Rick climbs into his seat as Morty buckles up.)

Rick: Geez, dammit, Morty! Who taught you to fly this thing?! *laughs* Haha, I’m kidding, I know that’s on me.

Morty: Um, Rick!

(An enormous craft lowers down before them. At this point, the car is surrounded.)

Rick: Shit. Well, I guess this is it.

Fart: Morty, crack the window.

(Morty open the window and Fart flies out, entering a gear policecar and entering the officer’s mind.)

Fart: I wonder why Greg is always so critical of my girlfriend.

Officer: Well… He’d probably like to have me to himself, that’s how friends are.

Fart: Or does he want her to himself?

(Fart induces an image in the officer’s mind of Greg having sex with his girlfriend. “Goodbye Moonmen” begins again.)

Fart: The world can be one together / Cosmos without hatred / Stars like diamonds in your eyes.

Officer: * anguished* My life is a fucking joke.

(He crashes his cruiser, setting off a chain of destruction of police and government vehicles as Fart continues singing. Rick and Morty look on from the car, shocked.)

Fart: Goodbye, moonmen. / You say, goodbye, moonmen.

(The destruction beings to kill civilians of Gearworld.)

Fart: Goodbye, moonmen… (Fart floats back in through the window and the song ends.) Alright, let’s proceed.

Rick: Damn. Can’t blame that on the dog. …Talk about silent but deadly. I-I’ve seen some nerve gas but ga- th-this gas got some nerve! Haha, you know what I’m sayin’?

Morty: *not amused* Are you done?

Rick: I’ll let you know, Morty. Gone with the wind, am I right? If you don’t like that one, Morty, an alt on that one could be, like…if I said Gasablanca! …Alright, I’m done. (Morty starts driving.) Let’s get to the Promethean Nebula, so my grandson can finish savin’ a life!

[Trans. Cross-temporal asteroid, customs]

(Jerry walks through a set of sliding doors and gets in line, intent on finding a way back home. He approaches the window.)

Garblovian: Ga-ga blahg blahg?

Jerry: Um… Earth, please?

(The alien stamps a ticket and passes it to Jerry.)

Jerry: Um… Is this… Do I pay?

Garblovian: Agah blahg-blah! (Jibberish continues as Jerry rushes away. Other aliens heckle him.)

Jerry: Sorry!

[Trans. Ext. Cross-temporal asteroid]

(Jerry passes a homeless alien holding a sign that says “WHY LIE? WILL USE GLEMS FOR GLOOBIES!” He then spots a creature that appears somewhat like a small hairless dog.)

Jerry: Hmm. Hmm… *hesitantly makes to pet the creature, but its face suddenly splays out in a tentacle formation* Agh! *runs away*

(Jerry runs into an alleyway where he’s met by a shirtless Garblovian, holding out a cup.)

Garblovian: Agah blahg blahg?

Jerry: I don’t…

Garblovian: * angrily* Agah blahg!

Jerry: What do you want?

Garblovian: *holds out cup* Agah blahg blah—

(The alien suddenly explodes into bluish goo. Some of it gets on Jerry.)

Jerry: Oh! * looks at self and begins panicking* Ahahaaaahhhhh….

(Two smaller Garblovians run up to Jerry, jabbering and holding out cups. Jerry runs away, and one drinks some of the bluish goo from its cup.)

Jerry: *wiping goo off himself* Uhhh… Huhhh…. (Stumbles upon two fleshy alien creatures mid-coitus.) Oooh! *runs away*

(Jerry now sits on a lone bench under a streetlight, looking around the alien world in obvious fear and flinching at strange noises.)

[Trans. Int. Jerryboree]

(Jerry walks back inside, hanging his head. The Jerry-Sitter smiles cheerfully. He approaches some of the same Jerrys from before. They’re trying to set up a television.)

Tank-top Jerry: Hey, are you the one that left?

Jerry: *single nod*

Tank-top Jerry: I get it. It’s… uh… a hassle out there.

Jerry: * suddenly less forlorn* Right? Who needs that?

Other Jerrys: * to one another* Right? Not me.

Paul: Oh-ho, not us!

Jerry: Uh… Who are you?

Paul: Oh, excuse me. Paul Fleishman. *shakes Jerry’s hand* Infinite timelines! In some of them Beth remarries.

Jerry: …Geez…

Paul: Don’t worry. I treat Beth very well, and I do not overstep my bounds with Morty. Every kid needs a dad, but there’s no replacing you. Hey, you wanna give us a hand with this? *gestures to the TV* We’re trying to figure out how to get the sound coming through the stereo instead of the TV. I-I-I don’t—It’s very difficult.

Jerry: Oh. Uh, well, is there an Aux input?

Tank-top Jerry: I tried that, but there’s two different colors.

(Pans out to show several clusters of Jerrys also working on identical television sets.)

Various Jerrys: Uh… There’s two different colors.

[Trans. Promethean Nebula]

(Dinosaur-like creatures eat plant matter in what appears to be a vast jungle. Rick’s ship flies into view. Rick is now behind the wheel.)

Fart: The wormhole is seventy of what you call ‘meters’ what you call ‘north’ of what you call ‘here.’

Rick: Fine. Morty, take your fart to his hole and say your goodbyes. I’m gonna find some fuel and take a biiiig fat Morty. (Morty gets out of the car.) That’s my new word for ‘shit’ because of today’s events.

(Morty and Fart head north, soon finding the wormhole.)

Fart: Here it is. This should take me back to my kind.

Morty: I’m gonna miss you, um, Fart. I’m really sorry your name became Fart.

Fart: I will be back soon, Morty.

Morty: * excited* Really?

Fart: After I return to the others with this location, we will be back for your cleansing.

Morty: Um… Cleansing…?

Fart: Carbon-based life is a threat to all higher life. To us, you are what you would call a disease. Wherever we discover you, we cure it. You said yourself that life must be protected even through sacrifice. (Morty, shocked and saddened, begins to tear up.) You haven’t changed your mind about that. I can sense your thoughts. Morty.

Morty: *wipes his eyes* Um… Before you go… Could you sing a… C-Could you sing for me again?

Fart: Yes, Morty. *approaches him as “Goodbye Moonmen” begins, again set to a sequence formed from Morty’s imagination* Cosmos without hatred / Blinding stars of cosmic light / Quasars shine through endless night / And everything is one in the beauty / And now we say goodby—

(The song is interrupted as Morty shoots Fart with the antimatter gun.)

Fart: Morty… Why… Why?

(Morty shoots him several more times until he completely vanishes, then drops the gun, crying.)

Morty: Goodbye.

(Rick is loading something into the ship as Morty returns.)

Rick: So did you guys make out a little bit? Is he gonna send you a postcard? (Morty wordlessly enters the car.) Man, that guy hit the lottery when he crossed paths with you.

[Trans. Open space]

Rick: Morty, I know I picked on your core beliefs and decision making a lot today, but I am glad you insisted on gettin’ that fart home. You know, at least all the death and destruction wasn’t for nothin’, you know? *notices Morty’s detached, almost anguished expression* You miss your fart friend, huh? Well I’ve got a little surprise for you, buddy. While you were gone I found another wormhole with millions of beings just like him on the other side and they’re all coming to visit.

Morty: *panicking* What?! Rick! No, you can’t!

Rick: Too late, Morty. The hole’s opening.

Morty: No, no, Rick! You don’t understand!

(Rick farts.)

Rick: Th-there’s a lot more where that came from too.

[Trans. Jerryboree]

(Our Rick and Morty enter the lobby, which is filled with Ricks, Mortys, and Jerrys.)

Rick: Hey. * taps another Rick’s arm* Hey bro. How many people was your Roy responsible for killing today?

Other Rick: None, we chilled at Blips and Chitz all day, ain’t that right homie?

Other Morty: Darn right bro! Roy rules!

Other Rick: Haha!

(The other Rick and Morty leave with their Jerry.)

Rick: *glares at Morty* Must be nice… Hey, Morty, there’s our Jerry.

(The Jerry-sitter guides a Jerry toward them. He and Morty hug.)

Jerry: Mm, I missed you. Hey, Rick.

Rick: Glad you’re safe Jerry. What do you say we go home?

Jerry: I’d like that.

Another Rick: *holding a ticket* Hey, wait, do you have 5126?

Rick: Uh, I’m not sure. Morty.

(Morty pulls a ticket out of his pocket.)

Other Rick: Uh, that’s a Blips and Chitz ticket.

Morty: What?!

Rick: Way to go, Morty. Eh, whatever.

(The Ricks exchange Jerrys. Both Jerrys look uncertain and nervous.)

Jerrys: Uh… W-wait, what?

Ricks: Alright, come on, Jerry.

[End credits]

[Trans. Alien planet]

(Various species of aliens are walking down the street when they stop and listen to an announcer’s voice.)

Announcer: Are you tired of the same daily droll? Well, get on over to Blips and Chitz! (As he describes things, they appear on screen.) We got, uh… one game! We got a whole bunch of games here! Uh, we got chabos and flobos and you can shoot things! Get on over here and play the games! Use your Flurbos to get tickets! Roy 2 just got here! G-Get over here at Ch… Chips and Chitz!

Rick: It’s the coolest place in the world! Hahahaha, I g- I get to be in a commercial!

[END]