Rick and Morty

Oh! Um, hey, Rick.

I was wondering if you could help me out

with a bit of a rake situation.

A "rake situation"?

Long story short, I asked Gene if he borrowed my rake,

and he said, "No," like-- like that. Like, too fast.

Like, faster than someone should know they don't have my rake.

I think he has my rake, and I...

I'm not going to murder Gene.

Jerry, thank you for bringing me into The Rake Situation.

I've done all I can. I'm out.

No surprise there.

All that brain, and you just waste it.

H-Hold up.

I-I waste my brain? Yeah, Rick.

Obviously, you were born smarter than me,

but if I had your brain-- If you had my...

I am so sick of this "born smart" shit. Are you gonna kill me?

I was born crying and pissing myself, just like you.

Then I become the smartest man in the universe,

and do I get credit?

No, I get to check my brain privilege.

So we're swapping bodies?

No, that would be "Freaky Friday,"

which is the ceiling of your grasp of consciousness.

The brain is part of the body, Jerry. It's hardware.

I'm gonna put my mind in your brain

and your mind in my brain.

Then we'll see the real definition of "waste," Jerry.

Or, you know, admit genius isn't random

and your failures are your own.

Oh, not doing that.

Thought as much.

Oh furck

Oh, grod.

Wait, no!

Okay. Hold on. Hold on.

Oh-ho-ho, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Alright, Jerry, you can do this.

Whoa!

Garage AI: Medical emergency detected.

There goes my Thursday.

I'm telling you, man, you're making a big mistake here.

Ha! Bigger mistake than being a criminal?

I'm mistake-proof.

Sorry to bother, boss.

I caught this punk selling crystals on our turf--

You big, precious moron.

D-Do you know who the fuck-- This is Morty.

The kid who hangs with Rick Sanchez.

Tried to warn you, man. Rick Sanchez?

Underworld legend?

Chaotic neutral sci-fi guy? Huh?

Christ, he's gonna turn me into a sandwich.

What is this guy, fuckin' new?

Think he was a Dylan rec, boss.

Well, check those fucking references next time.

Whatever this kid wants to do in our territory

is his business.

Fuck. Fuck! Call my wife.

We gotta prep go-bags three through six.

Hey, pal. You good? You whole?

Y-You guys have milkshakes?

We will learn what they are and get you one.

What a turn.

Lucky I'm such a genius your garage can thwart death.

I'm the genius, and it's your garage, idiot.

Hey, what the fuck did you do to my body? Your body?

Jerry, your mind did that to my body using my brain.

Jerry, my mind was in this brain in your body.

Pretty easy to follow.

It shuffled us.

Shuffled you maybe. I'm tracking everything.

Garage? Fix this.

Garage AI: Situation was fixed.

You call this fixed?

This guy thinks he's me.

Let's see you fix it, then, asshole.

I fucking will.

I got my lab right here. Gimme three hours.

Oh, sure, yeah, l-like I'd ever trust you to open my skull.

I'll fix it. I just need to scan for-- Ow!

Like I'd trust your fritzing R2-D2 ass.

You'll just kill me on purpose.

So that's where my paranoia went.

Rick speaking. Who is this?

Rick, it's Chuxly. From Crimetown.

We've met 5 or 10 times.

Listen, small misunderstanding.

one of my guys saw your buddy Morty running an errand

and he brought him in, which I told him not to do

but I've got Morty, and he is fine.

RickBody: Wait, w-what? Aren't you describing kidnapping?

JerryBody: Morty's kidnapped? No, no, no.

Give me that, Jerry. Hello? Hello?

This is Rick Sanchez.

I'm using my son-in- law's vocal cords because I'm amazing.

If you touch my grandson, I'm gonna--

Get-- Get off me. H-H-Hello?

Jerry, stop. You're fucking this up.

You're only calling me Jerry because you're so stupid

you think it's hurtful, which it is.

Tell me where you are.

No, you tell them where they are,

like Liam Neeson. Do not pretend

to explain Liam Neeson to me. Sir.

Hey, Jerry, don't touch me there. Stop it.

We know where you are.

My milkshake is empty! Okay!

That was so embarrassing.

Do you have any clue what a pain it is

to cultivate a mystique?

Yeah, I do. It's my mystique,

and you're just cultivating Jerry's shame.

What is with my hair? Leave it. Don't.

Why do you care about hair, nerd?

Be quiet for a second,

I need to think through all these chunks of moron.

Okay, you stay here. Touch nothing.

I'll get Morty. Ha!

I'm not letting you get Morty killed

and our brains blown out twice.

Car, electrocute Jerry if he gets in the front seat.

Car, engage castration protocol right now.

Car AI: Figure out how to drive me together

or I will have to kill you both.

Ugh! What are we, a 1930s comedy act?

Stop swerving. You're swerving.

Alright, when we get there, let me do the talking.

Yeah, I know, because you look the most like us.

I'm not stupid. Ho-ho! I beg to differ.

Screw you, Half Jerry.

You're a Half Jerry!

Goon: Looks like he's inbound, boss.

Okay, he is in a bad mood,

so we are kissing ass until our lips are ass-colored.

Straighten that pillow.

He might hate crooked pillows. I don't know.

Nice parking job, assdick. You scratched my car.

Rick!

And-- And, uh, Rick's friend.

This is my... assassin.

Deadliest man in the galaxy, and he's gay. Why am I gay?

Gangster: Whoa. Hey. Whoa. Why aren't you? Sorry about that.

Sorry. Sorry.

Well, I got Morty right here,

happy as a milkshake.

And since we interrupted your day,

Morty's got 10,000 croutons.

That's slang for crystals. Morty, show him.

We know what croutons are. Ey! Tsh.

Why is Dad here?

Your Dad's a gay assassin?

So cool and ordinary. Sorry. S-Sorry.

I appreciate you trying to make good,

but you cost me 10 times that much.

It doesn't matter, Rick.

The guy's already kissing your ass.

It's the ass kissers you have to keep in line.

When they sense weakness, they move on you.

What are we, Walter White?

Who cares if a mid-tier crime dork "moves" on us?

Thank you for the crystals. Morty, get in the car.

Actually, Morty, why don't you leave those crystals here

since it's such an insulting amount.

There it is.

Now he's thinking, "Oh, maybe I can kill God."

Yeah, because God doesn't haggle

for 10,000 fucking croutons.

Look, here's the deal.

I'm Rick, that's my son-in-law,

and we're all a little gay.

- Yeah. - It's a spectrum.

Morty, it's me, Rick. Get in the car.

Don't get in the car, Morty.

And put the briefcase down.

Morty, get in the car twice,

once for each five additional briefcases

this asshole owes us.

Stop doing this terrible impression of me!

Look, at this point, we're bad gangsters

if we don't roll the dice.

Everybody, start killing 'em!

What have you two assholes done?

It's okay. It's a nice restaurant.

Whoa. Shit! Crime restaurant!

Oh, my God! Am I really about to die

because you botched a "Freaky Friday"? - Yes. - Yes.

Whoever you are, you're in Rick's body.

Use your implants.

I'm trying. Half my brain is the guy

that still needs your mom to use the electric wine opener.

H-Hang on. I think I got it.

Right, from my Conehead phase.

Awesome fucking movie. Incredible cast.

God damn it.

I'm shooting my way back to the car.

Ugh, way to go.