It's time to thrash your "Roy" score.
You know, you could stop this killing from happening, Rick! You know, you did a bad thing selling that gun, but you could undo it if you wanted.
Uh-huh, yeah, that's the difference between you and me, Morty.
- I never go back to the carpet store.
- Holy shit! This guy's taking Roy off the grid! This guy doesn't have a social security number for Roy! Hi.
I'm sorry.
I think there was a misunderstanding.
I'm an adult and would like to go home, please.
Well, of course.
Right through that tube.
Unbelievable.
You're doing great.
I know how to crawl in a tube.
Come on.
Oh.
This is harder than it looks.
Whoa! - Marco? - Polo! Marco? Come find me.
Marco? You guys are enjoying this? Don't you feel a little patronized? How so? - Jerry! - Beth.
Oh, come on.
This is ridiculous.
I love you, Jerry.
Aw, Beth.
Who wants to come watch "midnight run" with director's commentary on? - Yeah! - Definitely.
First one there gets to adjust the picture setting! The factory tint setting is always too high! Out of my way.
The tint setting is always too high.
Oh, boy.
Here I go killing again.
Aah! Aah! Arh! Aah! Aah! You have arrived at Krombopulos Michael.
Your destination is below.
We're all out of off-white Persian.
Oh, man! W-w-what have I done?! - Drop the gun.
- You don't understand! - This guy was gonna kill someone! - I guess that makes two of us.
Aah! What are you doing, Morty? This is a galactic federation outpost! Look, I don't have time to tell you my entire backstory, but grandpa and government don't get along.
He saved my life.
- What? - Huh?! Whoa! Are you Krombopulos Michael's target? W-what's your name? My kind has no use for names.
I communicate through what you call "Jessica's feet" no, "telepathy".
Oh, good job, Morty.
Y-you killed my best customer, but you saved a mind-reading fart.
I like this name fart.
Morty, would you kindly release me by pulling that lever to the left of my cell? I am in great pain.
Morty, don't do it.
Morty Morty, you idiot.
Oh, crap.
Let's get you out of here! We can't get him out of here.
He's gaseous.
He's not gonna make it through a portal, Morty.
Well, then, I guess we're all getting in the car.
- Right, uh - Fart.
- No! Just just get in the car! - Morty, come on.
I want to go back to Blips and Chitz.
I don't want to deal with this.
Rick, you've been clear on the fact that you don't want to help, so just go away.
More are coming.
Screw this.
I'm out.
Whoa! Come on, come on! Get out of the vehicle made of garbage or we will open fire! Um, um, um, um! Open fire! Aah! Stupid-ass, fart-saving, carpet-store mother[bleep].
Move! Wait, did you [bleep] with my seat settings? More are coming.
Rick! Yeah, yeah.
Your geldon convertor is pretty dinged up.
That's because my grandson drives like a male Obravadian.
Yeah, I said it some stereotypes are based in fact.
Actually, it's because of years of neglect.
You really need to respect your gears, Rick.
To you, they're just wheels with teeth, but in my culture, wars have been fought-- So I've heard.
Just fix it.
I don't think the gromflamites can track us now, but it looks like we're gonna be here for a while.
Or, you know, if you still have that gun K.
Michael dropped, we could finish the job and go home.
- You do understand I'm telepathic, right? - I'm being polite.
Rick, we're taking him back where he belongs.
Oh, yeah? Where's that? Are you going on a quest to find he who smelt it? I came here accidentally through a wormhole located in what you call "Get out of my head, fart.
I know you're in here.
La-la-la-la".
No, in what you call the Promethean Nebula.
Oh, great.
Just a hop, skip, and an 800-light-year jump.
You know, you can leave anytime you want, Rick.
Whatever you want to do, you little punk-ass little bitch.
Thank you, Morty.
You are not like other carbon-based life-forms.
You put the value of all life above your own.
It's how things should be.
It's how they could be.
I could not agree more.
The worlds can be one together Cosmos without hatred Stars like diamonds in your eyes The ground can be space Space, space, space, space With feet marching towards a peaceful sky All the moon men want things their way But we make sure they see the sun Goodbye, moon men You say goodbye, moon men Goodbye Shut the [bleep] up about moon men! This isn't a musical number.
This is a [bleep] operation.
We got to be cool and [bleep] lay low.
Duck, duck, birdie? That's very funny! Here comes another funny.
Oh, this place is great.
I almost wish I could stay longer than one day.
You just might.
W-what do you mean? These are the Jerrys whose Ricks and Mortys never came back.
They live here now.
Uh.
No gear-turnings as of yet in the curious case of these unidentified humanoid fugitives, reportedly at large somewhere within the gear system.
Son of a Why were the gromflamites holding you prisoner? What the [bleep] is so valuable about you? I am no more valuable than life itself.
However, I am able to alter the composition of atoms, like this.
That was oxygen.
I added 71 protons to it.
Terrific.
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