A Final Season of Rick and Morty

20 -- The Boy Who Lived

"I'm a first Morty."

And Rick's blood stops.

Morty asks, "W—W—What does he—"

Rick looks back and forth between President Morty and 1-03. "That's impossible..."

"Certainly not in infinity," President Morty replies. And his following words cause him to grow increasingly furious, "Funny, even though every Rick fathered their first Morty from birth to become a genius," then shapes his hand like a gun and places it against his head, "I was the only one stupid enough to miss his own brain..." pretending to fire his gun-shaped hand towards his right eye, then taking his eye out to reveal cybernetics, "...yet still smart enough to capture Ricks," and he slams a button by the door.

A waiter-Morty carrying a water pitcher and drinking glasses comes in and pours some for President Morty. Before grabbing it, President Morty merely holds his hand over the glass as he continues speaking, "Even funnier how some of you feel responsible for the one true choice we ever made on our own." He places his hand on the glass and looks at the waiter Morty. "Oh, you remind me... Two choices of our own." As he stares directly at the waiter, he downs the water like a shot of liquor, breaks the glass on the wall, and uses all his rage for Ricks to stab the glass into the waiter's head over and over again.

As Morty stands horrified, President Morty catches his breath and wipes the blood from his hand. "The trick is to actually have a few waiters you don't kill so no one suspects that's their only purpose. Because Mortys killing Mortys... Well... " he pulls out a gun by its barrel, "Rather than have a flashback, why not a reenactment. Any Morty can repeat history, if given a reason," and he places the gun into Morty's hands.

Rick looks to Morty, deeply concerned for him; in a way, expecting emotional torture by proxy.

Morty trembles, "What?—Why? None of this makes any sense! Why are you doing this?!"

"Because I have to," President Morty scowls. "I'm not well. And neither are either of you. I need this therapy to practice on Rick and Mortys, to help me cope with being replaced only months after I left my Rick, to cope with killing the second Morty, to realize that anger is as meaningless and wasted as every Morty, so I don't try to kill myself again, so I can save Mortys—and Ricks—from what is destined to repeat to an exponential degree."

1-03 stood behind President Morty, bored, rolling his eyes and waving his hand for President Morty to hurry the fuck up.

In hearing the word 'practice,' Rick begins to feel the weight of defeat, knowing they'll be there for quite some time, suffering regardless of what awaits them. But Morty looks back and forth between the two of them, then asks, "W—Why'd you leave?"

President Morty answers, "Ricks are assholes, aren't they? Every first Morty reached their limit of abuse. This was before Ricks erased memories."

"Well..." Morty says, "Then I want to help you, to save Mortys, and Ricks, to help you with your practice."

"Morty, there's drains in the floor," Rick berates. "What do you think they're for, because when this prick starts his 'therapy', I know they're not for our tears, dreams, souls, my vomit, or the figurative cum of this self-righteous self-appointed ther-rapist jerking himself off with his own words."

"Shut up!" Morty shouts. He looks to President Morty, "What do I have to do? This is a fake gun right? Do I get to shoot him whenever he's a jerk—Can it be a stun gun? What are we reenacting? What kind of practice?"

"You saw the type," President Morty says. "The fortress of tortured Mortys was an incredible practice exercise for me. Emotionally brutal, but it eventually became easy to construct. Killing Ricks however, I needed that Rick you saw with me—cybernetically controlled—" revealing the wires behind his eye for a moment, "—because for some reason I still can't kill Ricks with my own hands."