Well, that attitude is exactly why we're out here. You guys wouldn't last two seconds on your own. You're only happy when you're penned in and drսgged up like some kind of chicken or lemur... [sees Summer and Morty using their phone and gaming device] Hey! I told you kids, no phones!
You know, maybe if you two stopped whining and let your old man take the reins, you might actually learn something. [roasts a marshmallow and uses it to make a s'more] Here. Take a bite of this tasty treat.
Oh, you think this s'more makes you special? What, because someone said "good job" to you once when you were ten? [throws it in the fire] That's actually really sad, Dad. Let's be real - you've been high-roading us non-stop, forcing us to do nothing in the middle of fucking nowhere, because it's the only way you're gonna level the playing field, isn't it? Because if you move the bar so low, you might actually seem like you're worth a fuck!
Father or not, he was a lying piece of shit. I don't care who else stuffed your crust, but I'm the guy that showed up. But I mean, if you want, I can still power-wash his guts off the tower and maybe--
I thought I wanted to teach you guys about tents, but really, I just wanted to feel important. I guess sometimes teenagers do know what they're talking about, even if it's mean.
What? You did. I mean, not to cast the first stone, but Beth and Jerry? Pretty terrible parenting on your part. Did you know Summer huffed a K-Zax Array? She basically smoked The Ring - most pilots die after three days. And Morty, the fucking moron, he thought the ship worked like a game controller! What in the Disney Channel fuck is that?! Maybe help him with homework next time! He's clearly crying for help!
How ever can I live with myself? One theory: I was designed by your father to live with myself, which would mean you made a conscious choice to swallow your dreams with cheap wine and dinosaur pasta.
More like dead alert! What else? What else? I wrote some stuff down on my Notes app, let me just find it... Screw it. Beth, if-- if one of you is still alive, you're my real daughter. If you're both alive, don't hurt the other one. She's just a clone; she's not worth it. I'm coming, baby!
Sure, guys. Rick can make secret decoys of the family and place them all around the country, but fuck me if I have questions about the starfish man in the target suit.
What up, you decoy motherfuckers? Come on down to Rick's house of squids, where I'm serving your ass on a platter! I know what you're thinking: "Fuck, a beacon! That's a great idea! He's got home turf, a tacit psychological advantage, and absolutely pendulous balls!" And now you're thinking "shit, that's totally what the Rickest Rick would do! I might actually be fake! I pretended I didn't care if I was, but I totally did! Now the only way to prove I'm real and not him is to ice his expository ass." Yup. So let's do it. Come get some. What? No, Morty, I'm gonna loop it. Why is it–
