"...this pickle doesn't care about your children. And I'm not gonna take their dreams. I'm gonna take their parents."
Pickle Rick: You should know those men killed themselves.
Agency Director: And how is that?
Pickle Rick: They didn't (burps) let me out.
"By the way, you might notice that in spite of your numerous distinctive features, I never gave you a name like Scar or Stripe or Goliath. That's because, to me, you aren't special. You were special to rats. Now they're dead. I guess it was me you should have impressed."
"And"? What more do you want tacked on to this? I turned myself into a pickle, and 9/11 was an inside job?"
"He died doing what he loved, being a dumb fucking rat."
"Jaguar: I never bullshit, Pickle Man. This can only end with one of us dead, and I have never died.
Pickle Rick: Yeah, there's lots I wouldn't do to see my daughter, but killing you gets me to her quicker than your derivative bullshit."
"Jaguar: Pickle Man, it's too late for me to tell my daughter I love her, but not for you.
Pickle Rick: Oh, well, uh, she knows. I mean, we don't really buy into that kind of crap, to the extent that love is an expression of familiarity over time, my access to infinite timelines precludes the necessity of attachment. In fact, I even abandoned one of my infinite daughters in an alternate version of earth that was taken over by mutants."
