Rick and Morty - M. Night Shaym-Aliens!

Song Rating: 7.55/10

Song lyrics:

(Rick is dissecting a rat.)

Rick: T-t-t-this is just sloppy craftsmanship.

Morty: Hey, Rick. Boy, sure is really especially beautiful out there today, huh?

Rick: Oh, yes, Morty. Its almost unbelievable, isnt it?

Morty: Yeah, you know? Theres something about the air. And just the way the sunshine is.

Rick: Oh, sure, buddy. Yeah. Sure. B-brilliant. Very convincing.

Morty: Wh… convincing?

Rick: Oh! Responsive, too! In real time! I love it!

Morty: Uhhokay.

Beth: *robotic* Im going to work. Morty, good morning. Dad, good morning. I am going to work. Goodbye. (Beth drives away.)

Morty: Whats with Mom?

Rick: Oh, whats with Mom? So, youre saying that shes acting weird? How soph—*burp*—isticated. Careful, guys. Youre gonna burn out the CPU with this one.

Morty: Okay, you know what, Rick? Youre acting weird, too.

Rick: Whatever, quote-unquote “Morty.”

Morty: Alright, well Ill see you after school. (Walks into the side of the garage.) Ow! Oof! Ugh! Damn it! Im all right. Im okay.

[Trans. Mortys math cla**]

Mr. Goldenfold: Alright, who can tell me what 5 x 9 is? (Students whisper.) Morty?

Morty: Uh, me?

Mr. Goldenfold: What is 5 x 9?

Morty: Um, you know, its, uh, at least 40.

(Students gasp.)

Mr. Goldenfold: Morty, thats exactly correct! 5 x 9 is at least 40! Come up here.

(Students cheer.)

Jessica: Whoo! Way to go, Morty!

Mr. Goldenfold: Everybody, this is the best student. I want you to be the teacher today. *sits down at a desk* Teach us, Morty!

Rick: *spying from outside* Interesting…

Morty: W-w-w-what do you want me to teach you?

Student: Ooh, ooh! How do you make concentrated dark matter?

Mr. Goldenfold: Oh, thats a good question.

Morty: Concentrated huh?

Mr. Goldenfold: Concentrated dark matter. The fuel for accelerated space travel. Now, do you know how to make it?

Morty: Uhhh…

Jessica: Come on, Morty. Isnt your grandpa, like, a scientist?

Morty: Oh, yeah, but, you know, he told me that I shouldnt go around spouting off about, you know, his science and stuff.

Jessica: I bet youve seen him make concentrated dark matter a lot. You know, if you tell us, Ill be your girlfriend.

Morty: Uh, y-you will?

Mr. Goldenfold: Seems like a rare opportunity, Morty.

Rick: *kicks open the door* Morty, u-uh, come on. Theres a family emergency.

(Rick grabs Morty by one arm. Mr. Goldenfold grabs the other.)

Mr. Goldenfold: Stop right there! If he leaves, Im giving him an F!

Rick: He doesnt care.

Morty: Aw, man! (Rick drags him to the locker room.) Rick, I have to go back! I think I was about to get married! *falls down* Ugh!

Rick: Take a shower with me, Morty.

Morty: What?!

Rick: Listen to me, Morty. Get your clothes off and get in the shower right now. *strips* Y-y-y-you got to trust me, Morty.

Morty: Ugh! Im gonna get an F in cla**, Rick. *strips*

Rick: Morty, thats not cla**. T-t-t-that wasnt your teacher. This isnt your school. This entire world is not the world. Were inside a huge simulation chamber on an alien spaceship.

Morty: Wait a minute. W-what are you talking about?

Rick: Its all fake *burps* Morty, all of it. Nanobotic renderings, a bunch of… crazy, fake nonsense, Morty. I couldnt say so until we got in the shower. They wont monitor us in here.

Morty: Monitor us?! *looks around and tries to cover himself* W-who?!

Rick: Zigerion scammers, Morty. The galaxys most ambitious, least successful con artists. You know, its lucky for us theyre also really uncomfortable with nudity.

Morty: Aw, come on, Rick. If everyones just gonna be insane today, at least let me be insane with Jessica.

Rick: I cant let you do that, Morty.

(Rick grabs Mortys clothes and they begin fighting over them.)

Morty: Give it to me!

Rick: No! You give it to me!

Morty: G-g-give it!

Rick: Morty, come on! Morty!

Morty: No, Rick!

[View of simulated world expands out to reveal theyre in an enormous spacecraft.]

[Trans. Zigerion control room]

(Zigerions groan and look away from the monitors with disgust.)

Zigerion 1: Oh, god, sir! Theyre still naked! Ugh.

Prince Nebulon: Well, check every five quintons and tell me when theyre not!

Zigerion 1: I think we should make Kevin look, sir.

Kevin: What?! No! W-w-why would you even say that?

Stu: Uh, sir, we have a situation over here.

Prince Nebulon: If theres a wiener on that monitor, I swear to god, Stu.

Stu: Something is drawing a lot of processing power. Oh, wait. No wonder. (Jerry appears on a large screen.) Theres another real human in the simulator.

Jerry: Okay, Jerry, big pitch meeting. Make-or-break time. *trims nostril hairs while driving* You can do this.

Prince Nebulon: How did this happen?! Wheres the Abductions Department?

Zigerion 2: Hey, man, Abductions just follows the acquisition order.

Zigerion 3: Dont put this on Acquisitions! We only acquire humans that havent been simulated!

Kevin: Well, Simulations doesnt simulate anybody thats been abducted, so—

Prince Nebulon: Oh, I see! Oh, oh! It was no ones fault. Oh, okay. Im sorry. Well, then, problem solved. Oh, wait no. *shouts* Theres still another human in here! Who is he?

Stu: Ricks son-in-law, Jerry Smith. So far, he hasnt noticed hes in a simulation.

Prince Nebulon: *sighs* Well, cap his sector at 5% processing, keep his settings on auto, and well deal with him later. Rick Sanchez is the target.

[Trans. Jerrys car]

Jerry: *inhales deeply* Gotta relax. Its just a pitch. Gotta relax.

(He turns on the radio.)

Radio: This is earth radio. And now, heres…human music.

(Repetitive rhythmic beeping.)

Jerry: Hmm. Human music. I like it. *rocks head side to side in rhythm with the music*

[Pan out to see Jerrys sector of the simulation, followed by a transition to Rick and Mortys.]

(Rick and Morty pant as they run naked down the street. Rick shoves their clothes into a sewer.)

Morty: Rick!

Rick: Uhp, uhp, uhp! Morty, keep your hands off your ding-dong! Its the only way we can speak freely. Look around you, Morty. Do you really think this world is real? Youd have to be an idiot not to notice all the sloppy details. Look, that guys putting a bun between two hot dogs.

Morty: I dont know, Rick. I mean, Ive seen people do that before.

Rick: Well, look at that old lady. Shes, shes walking a cat on a leash.

Morty: Uh, Mrs. Spencer does that all the time, Rick.

Rick: Look, I-I-I dont wanna hear about Mrs. Spencer, Morty! Shes an idiot! Alright, alright, there. W-what about that, Morty?

(A Poptart walks out of a toaster house and into a toaster car before driving away.)

Morty: Okay, okay, you got me on that one.

Rick: Oh, really, Morty? Are you sure you havent seen that somewhere in real life before?

Morty: No, no. I havent seen that. I mean, why would a Poptart wanna live inside a toaster, Rick? I mean, that would be, like, the scariest place for them to live. You know what I mean?

Rick: Youre missing the point, Morty. Why would he drive a smaller toaster with wheels? I mean, does your car look like a smaller version of your house? No.

Morty: So, why are they doing this? W-what do they want?

Rick: Well, that would be obvious to you, Morty, if youd been paying attention.

(Siren wails. Ambulance drives up to them and the doors open.)

Paramedic: We got the president of the United States in here! We need 10cc of concentrated dark matter, stat, or hell die!

(Rick slams the ambulance doors shut and starts walking off.)

Morty: Concentrated dark matter! They were asking about that in cla**.

Rick: Yeah, its a special fuel I invented to travel through space faster than anybody else. These Zigerions are always trying to scam me out of my secrets, but they made a big mistake this time, Morty. They dragged you into this. Now theyre gonna pay!

Morty: Wait, wha, w-w-what are we gonna do?

Rick: Well scam the scammers, Morty. And were gonna take them for everything theyve got.

[Trans. Ext. Ad agency]

(Trees flicker with a static noise)

Jerry: National Apple Farmers of America…

[Trans. Int. Ad agency]

Jerry: Welcome to our ad agency. Im Jerry Smith. (Audience stares blankly.) Alright. Ill just get to the pitch. Um, simple question, gentlemen, *hoarsely* what are apples? *clears throat* Excuse me. *drinks some water* Ahh. *coughs, clears throat* What are apples? *pulls poster board to the front of the room* Apples are food. And when do we need food? When were hungry. (Audience stares blankly.) With that, I give you your new slogan! (Flips paper to reveal sign saying “Hungry for Apples?” Audience continues staring.) Well, say something! Do you like it?

Mr. Marklevitz: Yes.

Jerry: You do?

All: Yes.

Jerry: So I sold it? I sold the idea?

All: Yes.

Jerry: Oh my god! Thank you!

All: *shaking each others hands* Thank you. Youre welcome.

[Trans. Ext. Ad agency]

(“Baker Street” plays as Jerry slides down a handrail.)

Jerry: Hey! I just sold my first pitch!

Old man: Slow down!

Woman: Lookin good.

Mailman: My man!

(Jerry dials on his cellphone. As he walks, he pa**es the same three people repeatedly.)

Simulation Beth: (at Simulation Smith house) *answers phone* Hello.

Jerry: Guess who just sold the apples campaign.

Simulation Beth: Who just sold the apples campaign?

Jerry: Me! I guess it wasnt a rip-off of got milk? after all. Guess someone was wrong.

Simulation Beth: Yes.

Jerry: Well, all is forgiven, because right now, Ive got an erection the size of an East Coast lighthouse, and Im coming home to share it with my beautiful wife.

Simulation Beth: Okay.

Jerry: Wait, really?

Simulation Beth: Yes.

Jerry: Yes! See you in 10 minutes! *hangs up, shouts* Hey! Im going to make love to my wife!

Woman: Lookin good.

Old man: Slow down!

Mailman: My man! *glitches into a tree*

[Trans. Backstage]

(Rick is decked out in chains and adjusts his clothes to look more disheveled.)

Morty: Aw, geez, Rick. I-I dont know if I like this plan,you know? I mean, crowds, t-t-t-they have a tendency to make me really nervous.

Rick: Morty, relax. Its just a bunch of 1s and 0s out there. Youre gonna be fine. (Lowers Mortys pants slightly and puts a hat on him.) Just follow my lead. (Rick and Morty fist bump.) Yo, deejay, drop that beat.

[Trans. Stage in park]

(Hip-hop beat plays. Crowd cheers.)

Rick: Uh-oh, Morty. This crowd looks too small for one of our famous rap concerts. I dont think we can perform our new song, The Recipe for Concentrated Dark Matter, for a crowd this tiny.

Morty: You got that right, Rick.

(Hordes of people appear from all directions and congregate in the park.)

Rick: Now thats more like it! Morty, here we go. Let me hear everybody say hey-oh! yeah! (Crowd cheers.) All the ladies say, yeah! (Ladies cheer.) Everybody over thirty, do this with your hands! Everybody with a red shirt, jump up and down! (People start glitching.)



[Trans. Smith house]

Jerry: *kisses Beth, who is still in front of the phone* Mm. Mm. Mm. Yeah, dont move. Mm, mm, mm, mm! Mm!

[Trans. Park]

Rick: Yo, everyone whose first name begins with an L who isnt Hispanic, walk in a circle the same number of times as the square root of your age times ten! (Simulation freezes. Rick and Morty jump offstage.) Run, Morty! Before the system reboots!

[Trans. Ext. Smith house.]

Jerry: Yeah! You like that? Now whos unremarkable? You hungry for apples? Are you hungry for apples?!

[Trans. Beth and Jerrys bedroom.]

(Jerry lies in bed beside Beth, who is frozen in place.)

Jerry: Oh, my god. Thats the best s** Ive ever had in my life. Its… its too good. I dont deserve this, Beth. Im a fraud.

[Trans. Rick and Morty running through frozen simulation.]

Morty: Oh, man, Rick! W-w-w-where we running to?

Rick: Out of the simulation, Morty. Normally, the chamber operates like a treadmill, with the virtual world disappearing behind us and being rendered in front of us as we move through it, but while its frozen, Morty, we can get to…the edge. Here we go. *jumps off the edge*

Morty: Holy crap!

Rick: Come on, Morty.

Morty: *jumps off edge*

[Trans. Control room]

Zigerion: Sir, theyre over the edge.

Prince Nebulon: Yes, they are. Just as planned. *evil laughter, others join in* Oh, this is going to be such a mindf**!

[Trans. Corridor in spacecraft]

Rick: Keep your eyes peeled for the central processing room, Morty. Thats how were gonna scam these idiots.

Morty: So, hey, why do these aliens keep coming after you, Rick, if youre so much smarter than them?

Rick: Its an obsession for them at this point. The Zigerions have been trying to outsmart me for years, Morty. Every time they do, Im one step ahead of them. *finds central processing room* Aha! Here we go. *starts collecting chips* Grab as many processors as you can carry, Morty. These guys arent good at much, but theyre really good at making these chips.

Morty: Ive got so many, I can barely hold them all! *holding chips in his shirt* Look at, look at this. Oops. I dropped one.

Rick: Dont worry about it, Morty. Theres plenty of them, you little goofball. (Both laugh and toss chips at each other playfully.) Come here, Morty! Oh, I gotcha!

Morty: Come on, quit it, Rick! Quit it!

Rick: Nothing wrong with just a little bit of horseplay every now and then, little fella.

(They sneak towards the escape pods. Rick throws a chip and distracts the guards while they steal a pod and fly away.)

Morty: Wow. What do you know? Huh. That was easy.

Rick: Totes malotes, dawg.

Morty: Just kind of hard to believe, you know?

Rick: Believe it, Morty. And once again, Im flying away with everything I can carry, and the Zigerions got nothing of mine.

[Trans. Jerrys bosss office]

Jerry: Mr. Marklevitz, do you have a minute to talk?

Mr. Marklevitz: *snaps fingers* Yes.

Jerry: Look, Im a fraud. I mean, lets face it. Hungry for apples is just a rip-off of Got milk? Its almost identical.

Mr. Marklevitz: *snaps fingers* Yes.

Jerry: Okay. I deserve that. Um, I guess Ill just pack up my desk.

Mr. Marklevitz: *snaps fingers* Yes.

Jerry: *crying* Oh my god. Wait. You know what?! No! The milk people dont have a patent on simple rhetorical questions! Y-You— Theres not even a single word in Hungry for Apples thats shared by Got milk? Its a completely different slogan. Its different! And I shouldnt be fired. I should be promoted!

Mr. Marklevitz: *snaps fingers* Yes.

Jerry: Yeah! Wait. Really?

Mr. Marklevitz: *snaps fingers* Yes.

Jerry: Yes! I mean, it may be derivative, but its the most successful campaign to come out of this agency in a long time.

Mr. Marklevitz: *snaps fingers* Yes.

Jerry: I-Im not saying it should win an award for commercials, but it could certainly be nominated for an award for commercials specifically about apples, like an Appley or something.

Mr. Marklevitz: *snaps fingers* Yes.

Jerry: Is there really an award called the Appley for apple-related ad campaigns?

Mr. Marklevitz: *snaps fingers* Yes.

Jerry: Could we nominate me?

Mr. Marklevitz: *snaps fingers* Yes.

Jerry: Holy crap!

(Jerry runs out. Mr. Marklevitz glitches.)

[Trans. Ext. Smith house]

(Rick and Morty get out of the escape pod and head into the garage with the chips.)

Rick: Get in, Morty. Im gonna be able to use these processors to make some real important science stuff. (Keypad beeps.) Huh. I thought I entered the code right. (Keypad beeps.)

(Second level simulation vanishes.)

Prince Nebulon: Well, whats this? W-what could this possibly be? Because it looks like youre inside a simulation…inside a simulation. Youre still on the ship. Game-day bucket go boom!

Cynthia: Sir, the, uh, doctors appointment to examine the discoloration on your butthole flaps was—

Prince Nebulon: Too loud, Cynthia. Too loud and too specific.

Rick: Uhh…

Prince Nebulon: Weve known how to make concentrated dark matter for a long time. But now we also know the code to your fabled safe, Rick Sanchez! All your most valuable secrets will now be ours!

Rick: Uh, yeah, until I get home before you and change the combination, you bunch of idiots!

Prince Nebulon: That is why youre never getting home. Get them!

(Guards try to grab Rick and Morty. Rick pulls down Mortys pants and all the Zigerions back away in disgust.)

Rick: RUN MORTY!

(Morty pulls up his pants. They run through the spacecraft and are chased by Zigerions.)

Morty: Oh my god!

[Trans. Appley Awards]

Jerry: I got to tell you, this morning, I didnt even know this award existed. Now Im holding one. And, um… Look, I want to say that today was the best day of my life But the truth is, its, its more meaningful than that.

Mailman: My man!

Jerry: Yes. Thank you, sir. I am finally complete!

(Everyone glitches into the mailman.)

Mailmen: My my my my man!

(Simulation continues glitching badly.)

Jerry: Aah! What the hell?! (Appley award glitches out of existence.) No.

(Rick and Morty run into the room.)

Rick: Jerry?!

Morty: Dad!

Rick: What are you doing here? W-why are you dressed like a waiter? Screw it. We dont have time. Come on. *starts dragging Jerry with them*

Jerry: *sobbing* No!

(Chase continues. The three make it onto a spaceship.)

Rick: Man up, Jerry! I may need you to work the lasers.

Morty: Oh, man! Theyre hot on our tail, Rick!

Rick: I guess they really do have concentrated dark matter.

Morty: Well, you know how to make it, too, right, Rick?

Rick: Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Uh, check the engine room. We just need cesium, Plutonic quarks, and bottled water.

Morty: Whoa! Its all here, Rick!

Rick: Wow, Morty. Lucky break. Grab that bucket. Okay, two parts Plutonic quarks, one part cesium.

Morty: Okay. Uh-huh. Alright.

Rick: Now empty the water bottle into the bucket and pour it all into the fuel tank so we can get the hell out of here! What are you doing, Morty?! Theres no time!

Morty: *freezes up*

Rick: Oh, no.

(Simulation breaks down...again.)

Jerry: What the…?

Rick: No!

Prince Nebulon: *laughing* Oh my god, Rick. How dumb are you? Youre inside a simulation of a simulation…inside another giant simulation! *laughs harder* W-we never had the recipe for concentrated dark matter. But we do now! We do now, s**a!

Rick: You simulated my grandsons genitalia?! Y-y-you bunch of diabolical sons of b**hes!

Zigerion 1: Kevin fought real hard to supervise that project.

Kevin: You said you werent gonna tell anyone! Im never gonna live this down, am I?

Rick: All right. Okay. All right, great. Wonderful. You win. Can we go home now?

Zigerion 1: I dont know. Can you?

Prince Nebulon: Ha! *fist bumps* Nice. Okay, okay. Show this gullible turd to his shuttle. Im done with him. Oh, wait. Let me get a picture. *snaps a selfie of himself with Rick* Aww. Look at his face. Hes trying to figure out if Hes in a simulation still. Are you, Rick? Are you? *laughs, walks away* Youre not. *walks back* Or are you? (Rick and Jerry leave.) *shouts after them* Oh, a-and, by the way, I dont have discolored butthole flaps. That was part of the simulation.

Cynthia: Oh. Uh, sir, should I cancel that appointment, then?

Prince Nebulon: *loudly* Yeah! Of course you should! *to Cynthia* No, keep it. Move it up, actually, if you can.

[Trans. Shuttle to Earth]

Rick: Hey, Jerry, dont worry about it. So what if the most meaningful day of your life was a simulation operating at minimum capacity?

Jerry: You know what, Rick? Those guys took you for a ride, too. You should try having a little respect for the dummies of the universe, now that youre one of us.

Rick: Maybe youre right, Jerry. Maybe youre right.

[Trans. Zigerion space craft, control room]

(The Zigerions are celebrating their victory with a party.)

Prince Nebulon: All right, everybody. Two parts Plutonic quarks… One part cesium…. A-and listen, Im sorry for shouting earlier. I-I couldnt ask for a better staff. I love you guys, and I love all your families. *readies water bottle* And the final ingredient…

(Zigerion spacecraft explodes.)

[Trans. Shuttle to Earth]

(Jerry looks behind them, shocked.)

Jerry: Whoa! What the hell?! W-what happened back there?

Rick: Why dont you ask the smartest people in the universe, Jerry? Oh, yeah. You cant. They blew up.

(“Baker Street” plays. Rick vocalizes the saxophone part.)

[Trans. Int. Ad agency]

(Jerry pitches “Hungry for Apples” in reality.)

Jerry: So… What do you think?

Mr. Marklevitz: Youre fired.

Jerry: Wha--? But t-this idea was tested in a state-of-the-art simulation.

Mr. Marklevitz: Well, then, it was a terrible simulation. Get out.

(Jerry hangs his head and leaves.)

Mr. Marklevitz: Man, how does a guy like that go home and have s** with his wife?

[Trans. Mortys bedroom]

Rick: Hey, Morty.

Morty: What?

Rick: Hey, little buddy. H-h-how you doing in here right now?

Morty: Aw, geez, Rick. What are you doing, man?

Rick: Y-y-youre a good kid, Morty. Y-youre a real l-little c-character, Morty.

Morty: Oh, boy.

Rick: You know, I had a really rocky road today, M-Morty. Youre my little friend, arent you? We had some good times together, huh, M-Morty? We Youre a real true hero out in the field. Youre a... Youre a real trouper, huh, M-M-Morty?

Morty: Have you been drinking, Rick?

Rick: I really appreciate you, Morty.

Morty: O-okay, cool. A-alright, Rick

Rick: *suddenly aggressive, holds a knife to Mortys throat* You little son of a b**h! Y-y- are you a simulation?! Huh?! Are you a simulation?!

Morty: No! No! No!

Rick: You little son of a b**h!

Morty: *terrified, gasps*

(Rick lowers the knife)

Rick: I-I-Im sorry, Morty. Y-youre a good… Youre a good kid, Morty.

Morty: Geez!

Rick: Y-youre a good… Youre a good kid. *pa**es out*

Morty: Oh my god!

Rick: *snores*

Morty: W-w-what the hell? What a life.

Date of text publication: 17.01.2021 at 15:53