Look, I'm not paying 70 smidgens
for a broken defraculator.
That is multiphase quantum resonator.
- Well, does it defraculate? - Fuck no.
Then — then — then it's a broken defraculator.
Like you would even know dick about fraculation!
Your planet just got cellphones,
and the coverage still sucks!
Yeah, yeah, and your species eat sulfur.
So, let's say 60 smidgens.
I tell you what — I'll do you a favor.
I'll throw in a fart.
Hey, uh, Rick, um, you think
maybe I could get something from this place,
like a souvenir, like, just to have —
like, something cool, you know?
Not here, Morty. We'll stop somewhere else.
Because, you know, there's always another pawn shop.
Oh, okay. I just, um —
you know, I thought that robot over there
looked pretty cool, you know?
Oh, it looks cool, huh? That's why you want it?
Yeah! You know, I mean...
it's different from the stuff on Earth,
and, you know, you take me to all these crazy places
across the galaxy,
and, you know, I don't reality have anything to —
to remember all those trips by.
It'd be kind of cool, like a souvenir.
You know, like, what if you passed away
or died or something?
I wouldn't even have anything to remember
all the cool stuff we did, you know?
Okay. 60 for the resonator,
and my grandson wants the sex robot.
So, we're just going to pretend this isn't happening?
I'm not saying that's a bad idea — just asking.
Rick, why would you let Morty
bring that thing into our house?
I don't know. What do you want from me?
He thi— he thou— he thought it looked cool.
You know what I mean?
Whew!
Ahh. Ail right.
Back to — back to — b-back upstairs.
Well, I'm intervening.
Intervening with puberty?
You'll turn him into Ralph Fiennes in "Red Dragon."
He's at that age. Let's just be proud of him.
Jesus. Did I reality set the bar that low?
Um, Rick, could you come with me, please —
q-quickly?
Okay, now if we hear squeaking, we intervene.
Where's the sex robot, Morty?
That is Gwendolyn — I-l mean, the robot!
She started beeping, transformed and tried to fly away!
Strange — that's usually the man's job.
You know what I'm talking about, Morty?
Wubba-lubba-dub-dub!
Morty!
That's my catchphrase, remember?
Remember — remember how I — how I cemented that catchphrase?
All right. All right, seriously, though,
let me grab this thing.
Come on, you... rascal.
- Okay, unacceptable! Oh. - What is going on?
All right. Uh-oh.
"Uh-oh"? What is that?
Hmm. I think Morty's robot was designed
for more than long weekends.
Genetic compiler, incubation chamber.
Yep. This here's some kind of baby maker,
and that there's half Morty, half —
who — who knows wh-what?
It's my bad, guys. I'll — I'll take care of it.
- Grandpa Rick, no, no! - Whoa, whoa, whoa!
What do you think you're doing?
Hey, listen — you guys quarantined the house
when Summer brought olives back from Mexico.
I mean, this thing could grow to the size of Delaware.
I mean, it might eat brains and exhale space AIDS.
We gotta be careful.
I lost the chance to be careful, Rick.
I'm a father now!
You know, it's time for me to be responsible.
Isn't that right... - Don't name it.
- ... Morty Jr.? - Oh, crap. He named it.
Well, Dad, it's a living thing, and it's half human.
And it was born on American soil, which entitles it to —
Jerry, majoring in Civics was your mistake.
Don't punish us for it.
Fine.
I'm gonna take this thing to my workshop and investigate.
Do not let that thing out of your sight.
It looks harmless now, but it could grow dangerous.
Like The insane Clown Posse.
Yeah. Good one, Jerry.
2003 just catted. It wants its easy target back.
Ohh. He's like a little me!
Y-You don't think he'll turn into a monster... do you?
They always do.
Hey, uh, 1995 called!
They want their "certain year called
wanting its 'blank' back" formula back!
Why, Jerry? Why expend the effort?
Life is effort, and I'll stop when I die!
- Out. - Whatcha doin'?
Well, I can't solve the problem my way,
thanks to your family's primitive biological hang-ups.
Gross. I might have just touched one of Morty's loads.
But maybe I can find suitable parents for Morty Jr.
On this robot's home world, which is...
Gazorpazorp in the Andromeda system.
Scoot, Summer. - Don't you need a new companion
now that Morty's in the family way?
I don't do adventures with chicks, Summer.
Oh, right — because there's something about having a wiener
that would make me better at walking through a hole?
- Aaaaaaaaaaaaah! - Oh, crap.
Grandpa Rick! Ugh!
Help! Help! Aah! Aah!
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
- Grandpa Rick! - Still think it's a good idea
to go through holes without a wiener?
- I want to go home. - Yeah, no duh.
Ugh!
Great. Now I have to take over a whole planet
because of your stupid boobs.
- You're doing great, Morty. - Really? You think?
I mean, I'm not doing much of anything.
What do I do if it cries?
Then you put it down and let it cry itself out.
Yeah, right. We tried that technique on Summer,
and she's gonna end up stripping, isn't she?
Yes, she is.
She's gonna strip for attention
because she was denied it.
Stop filling it with your own insecurity.
You're gonna turn it into Morty —
uh, mm — more — more — more — more of you.
Well, we can't all be raised like reptiles
by a mentality ill scientist.
What the — aah! Aah!
Listen to me. I am not rewarding this behavior.
Knock it off, both of you!
G-Give me him! Give me my baby!
You're both nuts!
I'm gonna raise Morty Jr. myself!
? Where's your hands? There's your hands?
? And that's how we play handy hands?
Oh, you are going to ruin that kid, Morty.
At least we can agree on that.
Thanks, Dum-Dum.
I said, "Thanks, Dum-Dum." Go get more.
Summer, put your burqa on!
That burqa is a human-rights violation,
and I spent a lot on this top.
Look, I'm trying to repair a p-portal gun
with a bunch of sex-doll parts,
and I have to do it one-handed
to keep these Belushis from carting you off.
The least you could do is be ashamed of your gender.
Ugh. What's the deal with this place?
Why is it such a sausage planet,
and how did such backward idiots invent robots?
Obviously, at some point,
the Gazorpians became so evolved
that they replaced females with birthing machines.
The resultant lack of distraction and hen-pecking
allowed them to focus entirety on war,
so they bombed themselves back to the stone age,
and now they just fight with each other over fake pussy
with sticks and rocks all day long.
You think it's efficient to get rid of women?
You ever see a line for the men's room?
Are you hear— do you li— do you hear me, Summer?
Droppin' loads.
Droppin' loads! Droppin' loads.
The plot thickens.
Uh, you might want to cover your eyes, Summer.
Yeah, like it was my dream to watch.
Yeah, baby!
Summer, grab — grab hold.
Yeah, baby!
Aaaah!
Grandpa Rick, where are we going?
Well, obviously, Summer,
it appears the lower tier of this society
is being manipulated through sex and advanced technology
by a hidden ruling class. Sound familiar?
Ticketmaster.
Oh, there — there we go, Summer.
Hey — hey, brother. Hey, bro.
Nice racket you got going on here.
Listen, I'm Rick Sanchez from Earth dimension C-137.
Don't mean you any harm. Coming in peace.
It's all cool in the, uh — "good in the neighborhood"
is what I was trying to come — is what I meant.
Oh, I get it —
the old behind-every-great-man Amazon twist.
Silence!
- Your slave is ill-mannered. - My slave?
We assume you are from a more primitive word,
where men are still permitted to be servants.
If he is a rogue male, tell us now and we will kill him.
He's my slave. He's my slave.
He's definitely my slave.
Ugh! Ohh! Oh-ho-ho!
Oh, boy.
What's the opposite of "wubba-lubba-dub-dubs"?
Am I right, ladies and gentlemen?
Are you guys kidding me?
Oh, Morty Jr.!
You're gonna be a special Little guy, aren't you?
You — oh, yeah. You're my special little guy.
Ohh.
Ohh! Ha ha!
Da.
What was that, Morty Jr.?
Were you gonna say, "Dada"? Say, "Dada."
Death!
"Dada."
Domination!
Um... "Dada"?
Destruction. Domination.
Nice.
The spider in sector "*C'is still alive.
Plan your route accordingly and expect delays.
We're not telling you what to do.
We're just sharing how we feel.
And now weather— is anyone else cold,
or is it just me?
I am Mar-sha, ruler of Gazorpazorp.
I am here if you need to talk.
- What is this place? - Paradise.
We built it during the great passive-aggression,
when the females separated from the males
due to their increasingly destructive behavior.
I am here if you need to talk.
From here, we dispense mechanical surrogates
to maintain our population.
Fertilized surrogates are returned here to our nursery.
The females are placed into educational programs
where they can discover a service to our paradise
that fulfills them most.
Males...
they get to play outside.
That was just a baby.
And within a day, he'll be an adult male Gazorpian —
one of the most aggressively violent creatures
in the universe.
Wait a minute — we're here because a male Gazorpian
was born on our planet.
You speak when you're spoken to, ding-a-ling!
It's true, though — one of your babies was born on Earth.
Are you the ruler of this Earth?
- How did you know? - The quality of your top.
- Do you love it? - I love it.
I'm here if you need to talk.
If the Gazorpian is male, your Earth is in grave danger.
We will give you passage back home
so it can be terminated.
But first, mojitos.
We don't have time for mojitos.
- You are insulting them. - I don't care, Summer!
This place is the worst! I want to go home!
Well, it reality doesn't matter what you want,
because this is a sane place where women rule.
Yeah. You know what I have to say about that?
I cannot believe my ears!
Whoo, boy! Who let the frogs out, huh?
Grandpa!
- Grandpa? - That sounds patriarchal!
It means "father of father."
Then this one is not your slave,
and your Earth is yet another planet dominated by men.
It's not dominated by us, okay?
On Earth, men and women are equals.
Equals? We make 70%% of your salary for the same job!
- Seize them! - Whoa!
Was this really the time to make that point, Summer?
This is for you, Daddy.
Oh, man!
Um, okay. Listen to me, Morty Jr.
I've got to tell you something very important, okay?
Killing is bad — bad!
You're silly, Daddy.
No, Morty Jr. I'm being serious, okay?
You need to put your energy into something else.
I mean, what about dancing?
Would you like to learn how to dance?
I'd like to dance — on the graves of my enemies.
Ohh! No, Morty Jr.!
Daddy, can I go outside?
No! Absolutely not!
But that's where all the people and the animals are.
Yeah, but you can't go out there because the —
the air is poisonous for you!
You will die — you'll die instantly
if you ever leave this house!
You hear me? - For real?
For real times a million, buddy.
So, let's just stay inside,
and, you know, let's try dancing, right?
Look at me. Yay! Look. We're gonna dance.
Come on. Join — dance with me here.
We love to dance. - Why do we love to dance?
'Cause I said so!
Nice.
So, what are you in for?
Because I got — I got a big,
you know, penis between my legs.
What — what — what are you in for?
The worst crime a female can commit.
Veronica Ann Bennett,
I find you guilty of having bad bangs.
You ever notice the ones with bad bangs
always have three names?
You are hereby sentenced to the silent treatment!
Pfft! This is gonna be cake.
No! Jackie!
Rick and Summer of Earth,
for the crimes of treason against womankind
and for creating the sound of which we do not speak
because it does not exist, you are hereby sentenced to —
What, what, what — a night on the couch?
- ... death. - Ooh, gerp.
I hate you so much right now.
This will be the first instance
of capital punishment in our society
in 500 years due to our awesomeness,
so we are forced to improvise.
We placed a large boulder on that ledge.
Holy shit! Y-Y-You're gonna crush us with a boulder?
No! Stop interrupting!
The boulder falls onto a lever
that will launch... knives.
What?
Just give me a gun. I'll kill myself.
Stop interrupting!
The knives will —
Fine! You were right the first time, okay?
The boulder crushes you.
I just didn't want to admit you were right. Happy?
No, just ignore them. Ignore them.
Such an asshole.
Look, I'm sorry, Summer.
I feel bad that I let you drag us into this.
I wish I could have been a better Grandpa to you,
and, you know, for what it's worth,
that is a really nice, cute top that you're wearing there.
Top. My top!
My top — the same top you complimented earlier!
Look — look at the tag. Read it.
It says, "Marc Jacobs."
Marc? Jacob? These are names of the penis.
Yes. An Earth man made this top.
Maybe on your planet,
separation of the genders is the right thing to do,
but on Earth, a certain percentage of our males
are born gay,
which is why my clothes are better than all of yours.
A man made something fashionable?
It's true, and sometimes the truth hurts,
but it must be accepted.
Like if I told you that you're using
the wrong color foundation for your skin
and it ends at your neck,
making you look like a party clown.
Okay, ouch. Noted. But the fact remains...
if you impose Gazorpazorp's laws on Earth,
you're no better than the men
whose farts shall remain unspoken.
And if you think my top is cute,
you cannot execute.
Very well. Give the Earth people a spacecraft
so they may head back to their weird planet,
where women are kind of equal but not really.
Good job, Summer, and thanks, girls.
You know, you girls are really something,
I'll tell you that.
You know when we first go there, I was like —
Give them a ship now.
Morty Jr.! Smoking?
That is not okay!
What are you gonna do — ground me?
I can't go outside anyway!
So what? You could do things inside!
You could play guitar. You could masturbate.
I don't want to masturbate. I want to conquer the planet!
Oh, here we go again! You know, who do you think...
is gonna love you if you conquer the planet, Morty Jr.?
Love — that's all you care about!
What about weapons?
What about domination of the enemy?
All right, that's it — no more History Channel!
This TV is for cartoons and video games only!
I hate video games! You take that back!
Give it to me!
Ugh!
I-I-l didn't mean — I didn't mean that.
I didn't mean to do that. I'm sorry.
I can't take this anymore! I'd rather breathe poison...
than live another minute with you!
No! No, no, no! Stop!
My life has been a lie!
God is dead! The government's lame!
Thanksgiving is about killing Indians!
Jesus wasn't born on Christmas!
They moved the date! It was a pagan holiday!
- Oh, Dad! - Yes, Morty?
My son is gonna take over the planet,
and I am too young to drive!
Can you help me get him back?
I suppose, Morty. I suppose.
But first, a deep sip from a very tall glass
of "I told you so."
Oh, my god! Please, Dad! Come on!
? Runnin' wild, runnin' hot,
burnin' inside?
? With the youth in the blood and the age and the heat
and the fire in your pants, open wide?
? You're gonna run from the damn cold,
but you can't run from your youth?
Dad, there he is!
Oh, god. Hey, stop that!
Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Dad!
Morty Jr., no! It's me! It's Dad.
It's okay!
Put the car down, Morty Jr.
No! No! ? Wh-Where's your hands?
? Where's your hands?
My car!
? And that's how we play handy hands?
Out of the — out of the way, Morty!
- No! - Morty!
That's one of the most violently aggressive
creatures in the universe!
- Ow! - He's my son!
And if you hurt him, you'll have to kill me, Rick!
Dad, I'm so confused!
I know, Morty Jr. I'm sorry.
I ended up lying to you and yelling at you
just like my parents did to me.
You know, parents are just kids having kids.
One minute, you like how a shiny robot looks.
The next minute, you're in a fist fight
with your alien son.
I'm an alien?
We all have bad impulses, bad thoughts.
We just have to learn to channel them
into something constructive.
But I want to murder everyone I see.
Well, you know, I mean, maybe there's a job out there
for people that feel that way.
Actuality, there is.
Hi. I'm Brad Anderson, creator of
the nationality syndicated comic strip "Marmaduke."
You should consider being a creative.
I'm haunted by uncontrollable thoughts
of mutilation and sexual assault
on a near daily basis.
But, you know, I channel it all into my work.
- Oh. Wow. - Huh.
I never got that impression from reading "Marmaduke."
Well, did you get the impression
I was trying to make you laugh?
Tell me that wasn't Brad Anderson.
Aw, see? You hear that, Morty Jr.?
Maybe you could try being a creative of some kind.
Maybe! I always have sort of wanted
to see my face on the back of a novel.
I mean, what I reality want to do is slit people's throats,
but beyond that...
I know you can do it, son.
I think it's time I get a place of my own.
I promise I'll call you every day I need money
or a place to do laundry.
Aaaaaaah!
So, I assume this novel your son writes
is gonna pay for my rear axle?
Isn't it interesting, Summer,
that after all that stuff we just did,
nothing really mattered and there was no point to it?
Kind of makes you wonder, huh — about nothing?
Are you sure it doesn't make you re-evaluate
your policy about taking girls on adventures?
No. I'd say, given what we've been through,
that I was right the whole time
and any epiphanies about gender politics were
a projection of your feminine insecurity.
But, hey, why don't you have a pink spaceship?
Go ride around and have a jolly old time.
Maybe that'll shut you up. - Dad? Summer?
Where were you guys this whole time?
On Gazorpazorp. Where were you?
I was reading a newspaper.
Oh, that's interesting, Beth. You know, it's funny.
I-I-l heard about a little bit of news myself.
Take a look. T-Take a listen.
Wubba-lubba-dub-dubs!
This this world
Still got a — it's still got a chance!
Yeah! Ha ha!
See you — see you guys next week!
See everybody next week.
Mortimer Smith, Jr.,
New York Times bestselling author,
your book is about innocence, the definition of it,
and, inevitably, its impossibility.
Is it autobiographical?
Certainly.
I mean, all writing is, in my opinion.
But my, uh —
My father kept me locked in the house
until I was a teenager.
And there was violence
and, uh, threats of poison gas —
but also dancing.
But you persevered and created this masterpiece
from your suffering.
Smith Jr.'s mind-bending novel, "My Horrible Father,"
in every store and on everyone's mind.
Pick it up. We'll be right back.
It's a thankless job, Morty.
You did the best you could.
I hope he's eating enough.
Did you get any of that?
It's a good-a show!