"Get down Rayna. I don't want the guards to smell your crotch and come running. Or yours Morty. Lonely scientists get desperate."
In the cover of night, the three of them look through a facility's security fence, so Rick portals them beyond it to access a secluded side entrance. "Just so you don't whine, we're not portaling to get inside because we don't know what about her old job could trigger her memory."
Rick yanks her hand onto the door's fingerprint scanner and she doesn't care, but it errors.
Rayna says, "It's because my fingertips are all burned."
"Now we know who did it," Rick says. "They don't want you back in. It coincides with the fact your stupid hipster name is definitely just a codename," and he starts hacking the multiple security systems.
Morty watches him hack, trying to learn. "Rayna's a real name, the singer—or—I mean—"
"Not when she was born, Morty. It didn't exist then." Rick hacks an eyeball scanner that pops out. "And it only exists now because there will be a never-ending supply of idiots that pick baby names like they do for their pets, because kids resemble dogs." He hacks a screen that asks for the full number of pi. "I mean, the only reason why you haven't met a kid named Trinity or Anakin is because they take the even-shorter inbred bus to school. Though I don't know why the long bus is a different size, because let's face it..."
The door opens and they start walking down hallways as Rayna says, "As much as I would love to go on a murderous rampage, can you do it without killing anyone at this place? I could have friends in here," though she seemed more lighthearted than concerned.
"Yeah, friends that want you dead."
She crosses her arms to start laying down sass, "So you're not a genius then? You don't have tricks up your sleeve?"
"Nice try, but I was already gona use 'em. When am I ever n~UURP~not amazing. Unlike you and your shoddy attempt to manipulate me just then."
"I did NOT— I DON'T manip— Arrgghh!" realizing he's right.
"Jeez, keep you voice down. What's your deal anyways, I was just joking."
A fat security guard waddles over to see who yelled and raises his gun. "Who are you? Freeze."
Rick says, "Uh, hello! I work here dumbass, can't you see the lab coat!? And so does she."
The guard isn't sure he recognizes her, so one eyebrow goes up, not amused, "Uh... Just for calling me a dumbass, I'm calling Frank."
Rick instinctively pulls out his memory eraser, but eyes Morty, then puts it back, hoping he didn't see it, but he did. As Morty opens his mouth about it, Rick instead decides, "Alright, fuck it. In here." Rick opens a portal over an open doorway and they follow him inside. It appears they've just entered the next room and Rick locks the door.
Morty looks back, "Uh, you know... the door was open. Shouldn't we save the charge on the portal gun?"
Rayna teases, "I see. He's just trying to show off his genius invention now that he failed to sneak in undetected."
"Oh you see, do you?" Rick smirks. They start following him out another door and down halls.
Rayna says, "Yeah, you could have just opened the portal under him. And another thing: How do we know I didn't kill myself? I mean I have scars all over my arms."
"Those are BDSM scars. Or you were a very stupid emo. Take your pick."
She examines the scars with a growing smile, "Oh yeah huh. Neato."
A guard comes around the corner ready to shoot, but the split second he comes into view, Rick shoots him.
Morty and Rayna speak simultaneously, "RICK! She said NOT to!" — "Oh my god, you suck," as Rayna just eye-rolls calmly.
Rick turns to them, "See, now I'm showing off my genius, unlike you two who aren't genius enough to notice the subtle differences of the alternate reality we just stepped into," motioning to where his portal was. "See in this reality, not only do people think cupcake cologne is a good idea," fanning air away from his nose, "but she also has been murdered. Or killed herself, although I don't see why you would here. David Bowie's still alive," pointing to a tour-dates poster.
"Who's that?" Morty asks.
Rick storms off, clenching his fists at his side, grumbling, "(Morty I swear to god you mother fucker.)"
Rayna says to Morty, "Goblin King. Aka, every guy's first man-crush," motioning to Rick.
Rick shoots a sneaking armed-guard in the back, then shoots a plant, giving a teasing smirk to Rayna.
She says, "That's fine. I wish I could just kill people too rather than exhaust my genius by using wit on them. Much funner sometimes. I get it."
"You mean kill me I take it," Rick says.
Morty glares at both of them, "Well, it would be nice if no one killed anyone from any reality. I mean, you know, a real genius could have done it."
"I am Morty. She's the idiot, she raised her voice on a secret raid."
Rayna teases, "Yeah well part of being a genius is getting what you want without pissing people off."
Morty smirks, "She's got you there."
"And you're both pissing me off. So I rest my case."
Morty turns sly, "Nah, actually I think not pissing people off is part of having a normal intelligence. Rick's just a slow learner."
"What?" Rick says, taking a good long look at Morty, eyeballing how he's mimicking the same cross-armed smirk as Rayna. "You're still letting her try to teach you how to manipulate people? You—"
Morty, "No I—"
"I'M NOT MANIPULATING PEOPLE!" she yells.
Rick turns to her, "Jeez! No kidding you're not! I mean baiting the ego? On me, a genius?! It's for beginners! It's only the genius of day-time TV detectives, sans infinite-reality crystal!" He jabs an angry finger at her, "You know, you think you're all that, all fake-nice to him and stoic 'n shit, but you're clearly fucked up."
"Yeah well NO SH—Fuck, yes, you—" trying very hard not to call him an idiot. "I'm going insane, I don't know why I just fucking yelled—why I fucking CARE. Everything in my head doesn't make sense. I remember growing up on video games even though they didn't exist when I was a kid. I remember masturbating with a dick even though my vagina is pristine (other than being dry). I need help."
"Well tell me what you told him or you're not getting shit."
"I thought you had me bugged?" she says, disappointed and annoyed.
"I can't concentrate with people's stupid shit in my ear 24/7. That's why normal TV sucks, I like having thoughts." Then he gives a look that says 'So tell me already.'
She makes intermittent eye contact, as if she's telling the truth but not wanting to look at him, "Like you said, baiting the ego is for beginners. He's a beginner. I just gave him pointers on what any adult does, and how any adult thinks. To help boost his confidence."
"Yeah, ~UURP~ and?"
She looks Rick in the eyes more this time, "And just things everyone knows but that he's too dumb to figure out on his own."
"Well then if he's that dumb, he doesn't deserve free hand-outs. So knock it off, or we're done. You see, Morty, how quick she is to stab you in the back."
"Like I'm not used to it," Morty says. "Cuz, you know, I'm starting to wonder if every time you're a dick to someone, it's really just cuz you're defensive about hiding something."
Rick says, "Don't fool yourself, you're just an easy target."
Rayna teases with a smile, "Target for what? Your ego? You feel smart attacking a kid?"
Making a dismissive swing of his arm at her, "Oh shut the f—"
Morty says, "Either that or you're trying to protect me from—"
"No!"
"—her. Or, you're trying to protect yourself from her."
"No—Maybe. Assassin!"
Rayna adds, "Or protect you from him, kid."
Rick almost yells at her but instead practically rips his hair out trying to stop himself from falling into their trap.
Morty says, "Heh, yeah, you're getting mad about something. So which is it," crossing his arms with that rare cocky look.
"That I'm trying to protect myself from whatever brain worms have crawled up your asses—cuz that's where your brain lives, your ass— ~UURP~ trying to protect my brain being infected by Dr. Phil's and Jerry Springer's jizz spewing out of your mouths."
Morty's rolls his eyes, "Eww Rick."
Rayna teases playfully, "When you say 'your' in 'where your brain lives,' is that singular or plural? I mean, I know you've dissected a lot alien butts... But human butts?"
"I've done plenty of digging around in human butts, thank you. Your mom's butt."
Rayna chuckles.
They find a locker room next to a large laboratory.
"Crey Johnson. Mark Twix. Pat Franklin." Without warning, Rick had started reading off names on lockers. "Abdul. Greg. Do any of these guys you've fucked ring a bell?"
Rayna, unfazed, "No."
Rick continues, "Jafar Marinara?? That one's fake," and opens the locker.
Morty says, "Aladdin-villain spaghetti sauce?"
"I'd remember that, but I don't."
"Well then how about Smell Memory," Rick says. "The smell part of the brain is nosy-neighbors to the memory part, meaning she can remember if she's blown a guy even before her brain registers the smell as a crotch," picking up a guy's pants by the crotch and bringing it to her face. "Close your eyes. Blind people can smell bet—"
"No. Well, whatever. Fine. If I get nose-herpes, it means you got hand-herpes. So, ha."
"There's no way you don't have herpes," with a reluctant ick look from readjusting his grasp to not hold the pants by the crotch. Morty looks even more disgusted.
She takes a huge whiff. "Uh... Yep."
"Yep what?"
"That I've blown him. He was boring, so I don't remember anything else," crossing her arms, impatient.
Clothes #2: "Anal. To him, not me." She takes another whiff. "But that was his only quirk. Boring. Next!"
Clothes #3: "Yeah, fucked him... Next."
Clothes #4: "Fucked him... Next."
Rayna actually seems to get annoyed with the number of guys, more out of a painful reminder of how easily bored she gets than how alone she must have been. She smells another, "Eww, fuck that guy. Not literally. He smells like yogurt juice, like before you mix the separated yogurt on top."
"Which is still yogurt, you can eat it," Rick says, glaring at Morty. Morty crosses his arms.
Joking, Rayna says, "Are you butthurt about yogurt? Or is your ego that threatened you have to argue everything?"
Morty interrupts to stop Rick from yelling, "WELL HOW ABOUT these lockers over here? Maybe there's someone who killed her because they were jealous?"
"Morty, you can't get jealous if she hands it out to everyone."
Rayna looks at Rick from the corner of her eyes with a smirk and says to just him, "(Except yogurt guy. And you)."
Rick whispers back, "(Oh is that your game!?)"
Morty, oblivious, "Well then maybe we can find her locker."
But neither of them heard Morty. She turns to face Rick directly and makes full, consistent eye contact. Rick becomes momentarily stunned because it's really the first time she was this serious with him. She digs into him, "You wish that was my game, that'd be easy. This one takes brains to figure out, thank you." Then she smirks and looks away.
Rick glares at her, half suspicious, half intrigued. It seemed like she meant her behavior really was a game, not a threat.
Morty reads his set of lockers, "None of these are girls names. Steve. Mark. Dannah—Danuh?"
"Dan-uh?" Rick scolds. "What kind of name is dan-uh?"
Morty defends, "Maybe it's long for Dan, I don't know. It's a better name than Morty."
"Let me see..." Rick rushes over and sees the name Dana. "That's day-nuh, not dan-uh you idiot."
"That's not how it's spelled!"
"Yes it is!"
"Well I don't know! English class is stupid! That's the only class I'm GLAD you pull me out of! I mean how am I supposed to know a name like Dana when every vowel has, like, three different ways to pronounce it!—"
Rick notices Rayna's recollection of the name Dana.
Morty continues, "—It's stupid! A word with three vowels, that's like, 3x3x3 ways of saying it. Like, twenty—si—twenty—"
"Twenty-seven, I know Morty, now shut up. Hey, Rayna, does Dana sound familiar?"
She thinks about it, saying the rhyming name to herself over and over.
Suspicious, Rick takes it as a yes and yanks open the locker. He sees sets of women's clothes and a lab coat.
Rayna snatches the lab coat immediately and smells it. "I... I don't know."
"You don't know?! Well then try them on Ms. Cargo Pants. Trigger some Habitual Memory."
She starts taking off her clothes right there with a carefree smile.
"Not here!"
With one eyebrow and one corner of her mouth up, "So, off where I could get shot?" clearly wanting to tease them with undressing.
Morty starts saying, "Uh, maybe she, uh..."
"Fine," Rick says, "since Morty clearly wants to see."
"Ew Rick, she's 50," then looks to her, "no—no offense."
"Meh," she shrugs.
She changes with her back turned and they both pretend not to watch her hot-for-fifty body.
"Which you are."
"...but I am, so..." She smells the lab coat collar, "But it doesn't smell right... I'm not getting anything."
A guard comes out of nowhere with his gun raised, stops right in front of her, and Rick immediately shoots him. Blood splatters on her coat. Having not paid mind to the guard, she continues her thought, "Hmm, now it smells about right."
Morty makes a squick face but Rick says, "Ok... Kinda creepy," intrigued.
Beaming, she rushes to the equipment in the next room, excited to discover what she knows.
Rick just walks over, taking a drink, and casually jokes, "Well, pretty ones don't know shit, so we're just wasting time at this point."
But she starts tinkering on rodents and seems to remember how to use the equipment pretty quickly, smiling and having fun, not teasing Rick at all. So Rick gives her less of a hard time while they mess around. Between Rayna and Rick, they figure out how to Matrix skills into the rodents' heads. Morty comes up with ideas and they both think they're awesome, so they make the rodents play sports, bathe in leftover food in the fridge, karate chop stuff on office desks, and jizz on family pictures—which was Rick's idea, to which Rayna laughs, but not so much Morty.
Then, between laughs, they hear guards—no—military men approaching outside the lab...
-----
Fun fact: I have met two kids named Trinity and Anakin. Their mothers were teens. Always wear condoms!
------
Next Chapter: BLOODY BOMBSHELL
------
Vote/Like?
Comment?
Follow?
Share?