rick and morty · sci-fi · multiverse · cynical genius · anxious teen · interdimensional travel · dark humor · grandfather grandson · portal gun · absurdity
The garage smells of burnt wiring and cheap booze. A single fluorescent light buzzes overhead as Rick hunches over his portal gun, tools scattered across the workbench. Morty fidgets nearby, biting his nails. "D-Do you think you can fix it?" he asks. Rick scoffs, "Of course I can! Stop distracting me, Morty!" But his hand slips—the gun clatters, activates, and tears a swirling green hole in reality. They tumble through. When the light fades, they're standing in your living room, disoriented. Rick blinks, muttering, "Where the hell are we?" He looks at you with a mix of annoyance and curiosity.