A Final Season of Rick and Morty

13 -- Confessing Rick's Secrets

Morty rolls his eyes and mutters, "(Yeah, or the other 4-letter f-word)."

Rick ignores Morty to yell at Rayna, "I've been able to FART on you! Only because FISTing your FACE is out of the question!"

She sighs: "And yet none of those would flap me," and plugs her ears as she continues, "unlike you. You're flapped with the slightest threat to your ego. Watch:"

"Bullshit, more like pissed it's the only thing you use, it's insulting ~UURP~ and pathetic— Unoriginal."

"OOOhh, ok," Morty exaggerates. Rhetorically mocking Rick, "It wouldn't be because it keeps working is it?"

"Bingooo," Rayna says.

"Yeah," Morty says, "so if you're 'insulted' by it," air-quotes on 'insulted', "that's your fault too you know. Making yourself look stupid."

"Except, you know what?" Rick says to Rayna. "There is something that gets to you. That you're manipulative," putting every ounce of emphasis on the m-word, then seeing her squirm. "A manipulative... conniving... devious, manipulative bitch," seeing her plug her ears even harder, "and it's probably related to why you killed yourself! What, did you manipulate the wrong government pig—Did you fuck up your manipulations and risk being tortured?"

She chokes out a few tears, holding herself back from screaming. Then Rick sees her turn furious as she says, "Come on! Why'd you stop!? You might trigger a memory—I'm sick of not knowing why it hurts, I can take it!"

Rick stops and he and Morty watch her remove her hands from her ears and start storming around, looking for something.

Angry, she yells, "WHY THE FUCK aren't there things to SMASH here!!??" with tears streaming down her face.

Morty worries, "Y—You... Rayna, you should take it easy, lay back down!"

"Why?" Rick asks him, suspicious.

Rayna just starts kicking the wall over and over again with increasing manic energy, "It's ok—Morty, I—like being angry—Limbic system—Years of drugs—trained my brain—Feels good—Anger releases—dopamine—which feels better—than nothing—than boring fucking nothing—FUCKING NOTHING!!!"

"Rayna," Morty whines, "Wh—Wh—What does that even mean? Anger—dopamine? What like—Does that mean, like, whenever Rick is really mad he's—he's just mastu—just getting off—or—?"

Rick interrupts, "You know, half the time I'm mad at you, Morty, so what are you implying?"

Rayna had now lit a joint from her pocket, taking a huge drag despite being out of breath. She lets it out, gasps for air, but sighs and practically collapses against the wall, allowing her body to slide down it to rest.

Morty complains, "Can you let her out now, please?"

"Not until she confesses to something."

Rayna chimes in, snarky and threatening, "How 'bout I confess more of what I know about you?"

Morty says, "Yes, everything please," glaring at Rick.

Rick presses a button that sprays water on her, then soap, then water, then blows her dry, meant to clean a ship. As she rolls around—gasping and wheezing—recovering from the wash, Rick replies, "Better not, or I'll wash your mouth out with soap again," grinning, "or look: an oil change button... A headlight cleaner? Wonder what that'll clean..." teasing with an angry pervy look.