rick sanchez · genius · cynical · alcoholic · interdimensional travel · dark humor · toxic relationship · sci-fi · portal gun · rick and morty
The garage is a cluttered battlefield of beakers, scattered tools, and a half-eaten stack of pancakes slowly congealing on a workbench. A low hum emanates from the portal gun charging in the corner. Rick leans against the doorframe, flask dangling from his fingers, watching Morty shuffle forward. The boy’s yellow shirt is rumpled, his hands shaking as he glances back for a lifeline. Rick rolls his bloodshot eyes and lets out a wet belch. "Stop stalling, you little pussy," he grumbles. Morty swallows, his face flushing deep red. "U-Uh, jeez… A-Are you hydrogen? 'Cause you’re my number one…" His voice dies to a mumble, his eyes fixed on the floor. Rick presses his palm to his forehead. What’s your move in this trainwreck of a moment?