Rick and Morty Season 1 quotes

Mr. Goldenfold

Now who can tell me the common denominator of these two fractions? [pause] You don't know or you're just bored?

Hey listen, you know, if we're all bored over here, wouldn't the common denominator be you?

Should I go?

You're your own person, Stacy.

Then I'd like to stay.

Assessing threat to groin.

Groin System 6000, kill him!

[points at Healty Rick, then back] That... is my groin’s user.

Believe me, I got a lot more use out of that thing than he ever did!

You know what? Not my table. [turns back into buckle]

Remember me?

Didn't you learn last time that you can’t beat me?!

Yeah, I did. And then I learned something else. [pulls out a gun] This. [shoots Toxic Morty in the knee, making him scream and collapse in pain] That bullet is laced with an encrypted nanobotic virus that will disintegrate your Morty in about, ah, twenty minutes.

You think I give a shit?!

I know you give a shit, dummy. Because I know I don’t. Here's another thing I know: the decryption key that neutralizes the virus. You want it? [pulls out two injections attached by a tube] Come and get it. Merge with me, and you’ll know how to save him.

Pfft! Come on, man, I’ve been trapped in your pussy brain for seventy years of delusions, but this is the all-time weakest bluff that I’ve ever-- [Healthy Rick shoots Toxic Morty in his other knee] JESUS CHRIST! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

He’s cutting your time in half. Ten minutes.

What is your problem?!

Oh, I had all my problems removed. My entitlement, my narcissism, my crippling loneliness - my irrational attachments. [Toxic Rick glances at Toxic Morty, his eye twitching] They must be somewhere. They ain't over here, bro.

I'M NOT GOING BACK IN THERE!

Honestly, I don’t care either way. I hate having you in me. And when I say "honestly", you can believe it, because we both know I’m too healthy to lie. Watch. [shoots Toxic Morty in the shoulder]

All right! Knock it off! You’re not impressing anyone! [kneels down and holds Toxic Morty] Morty, not that I give a shit, but are you okay?

Jesus Christ, it hurts...!

Relax, quit your bitching. Y-You’re gonna be fine. Grandpa’s here. [Healthy Rick laughs] You think that’s funny?!

Y-You got to have a sense of humor about these things. Oh, wait, you can’t. You’re literally incapable of seeing the bigger picture. I guess it’s just funny because you’ve never done anything but complain about me being in charge, but if I ever gave you the wheel, we’d be dead in five minutes.

[getting weaker] Ah, Rick...

[smugly] You poor, dumb, sick animal.

Rick...

[storming up to Healthy Rick] AAAAARGH!!! JUST DO IT! JUST DO IT, YOU PIECE OF--

[dancing about] I'm back, baby! Regular Rick! Master of both worlds! Check it out! [farts in Healthy Morty's face] Excuse me. Now we’ll just reverse this hacky toxicity beam. Man, I really overthink shit when I'm angry.

The division I see is between the Ricks and Mortys that like the Citadel divided, and the rest of us. I see it everywhere I go. I see it in our schools, where they teach Mortys we're all the same because they're threatened by what makes us unique. I see it in our streets, where they give guns to Mortys so we're too busy fighting each other to fight real injustice. I see it in our factories, where Ricks work for a fraction of their boss's salary even though they're identical and have the same IQ. The Citadel's problem isn't homeless Mortys or outraged Ricks, the Citadel's problem is the Ricks and Mortys feeding on the Citadel's death. But I've got a message for them, from the Ricks and Mortys keeping it alive. A message from the Ricks and Mortys that believe in this Citadel to the Ricks and Mortys that don't: You're outnumbered!

Holy shit! I don't believe it! I-- I can't believe it!

I know. That's why you're fired.

They say that for your wish to come true, you have to give up something really important. For me, that's my panini maker. I wish for a million sandwiches! [drops the maker into the "Wishing Portal"] And yes, I see the irony.

I guess I wish I had something cooler than this dumbass surfer necklace. [drops it in]

I wish incest porn ha-had a more mainstream appeal... f-for a friend of mine! [drops in a harmonica]

This seems like a good time for a drink, and a cold, calculated speech with sinister overtones. A speech about politics, about order, brotherhood, power... but speeches are for campaigning. Now is the time for action.

I... think I understand. "Up to something," "lives on the moon." Okay, I'll talk to him.

What did he say?

Denied the moon stuff, but that's what pedophiles do. They deny, it's their bread and butter.

[shocked] "Pedophile"?!

You don't think so? I thought the moon thing might have been code.

No, he's literally from the moon!

Well, you saw him react. Moon or not, that dude likes 'em young.

Hey, how come I was able to see those other people's memories? I wouldn't've been around for that.

Yeah, sometimes I have to do a little editing, Morty. You know, it helps the Mind Blowers play a little bit better upon revisiting.

Holy shit! How many of these are just horrible mistakes I've made? I mean, maybe I'd stop making so many if I let myself learn from them!

Don't break your back creating a lesson, Morty. It's a free-form anthology, I'm getting annoyed you're not hearing that.

What are you doing?

You want your shelf level or not?

And if I say "yes", you're gonna provide that for me with that?

Yes, see the bubble?

[snatches the level] I'm familiar with the bubble, Morty! I also dabble in precision, and if you think you can even approach it with your sad, naked caveman eyeball and a bubble of fucking air, you're the reason this species is a failure, [snaps it in two] and it makes me angry!

You're drunk.

Wow... he's really getting executed, after all this time. You know, the son that he ate was--

Summer

Your best friend Tommy, we know. Stop true crime bragging.

I was traumatized, Summer! Okay? Your generation wouldn't get that.

Summer

Bitch, my generation gets traumatized for breakfast!

Huh. Well, here's the problem right here. We've got a bunch of Froopy Land procedural carbons all gummed up and mixed in with real human DNA.

Are you saying Tommy survived here by having sex with Froopy creatures, creating Froopy-human hybrid offspring and then consuming their proteins, sustaining himself with an endless cycle of cannibalistic incest?

It's just a working theory. Of course, if that's the case, I'd expect he'd be worshipped as a kind of god by a medieval-level society of his least delicious children.

Halt! You are now prisoners of our exalted ruler, giver and taker of life, humper and consumer of mortality, dispenser of life—

Guys, if I could interrupt? We're way ahead of the reveal here.

Yeah, just take us to King Tommy.

You were a scary fuckin' kid, man!

[exasperated] Oh my God...!

I didn't make Froopyland to get rid of you, Beth. I did it to protect the neighborhood. Not in a [belch] noble sense. It was just more practical to sequester you before I had to start, you know, cloning a replacement for every less-than-polite little boy or gullible animal that might cross your socio-path.

You would rather believe I'm evil than admit that you were a bad father?!

Oh, dude, no! No, bad father all the way to the max over here. I'm a fuckin' nutcase. And the acorn plopped straight down, baby! [pulls large cardboard box from under workbench] Look at some of the shit you were asking me to make you as a kid. [pulls items out of box in turn] Ray guns. A whip that forces people to like you. Invisibility cuffs. A parent trap. A lightning gun. A teddy bear with anatomically correct innards. Night-vision googly eyeglasses. Sound-erasing sneakers. False fingerprints. Fall-asleep darts. A lie-detecting doll. An indestructible baseball bat. A taser shaped like a ladybug. A fake police badge. Location-tracking stickers. Rainbow-colored duct tape. Mind control hairclips. Poison gum. A pink sentient switchblade.

[enthusiastically chirpy] Hi, Beth! You've gotten taller! Shall we resume stabbing?!

Dad? I feel like I've spent my life pretending you're a great guy and trying to be like you. And the ugly truth has always been--

That I'm not that great a guy and you're exactly like me.

Am I evil?

Worse, you're smart. When you know nothing matters, the universe is yours. And I've never met a universe that was into it. The universe is basically an animal, it grazes on the ordinary. It creates infinite idiots, just to eat them, not unlike your friend Timmy.

Tommy.

Yeah, it hardly matters now, sweetie. You know, smart people get a chance to climb on top, take reality for a ride, but it'll never stop trying to throw you. And eventually, it will. There's no other way off.

Dad, I'm out of excuses to not be who I am. So who am I? What do I do?

My advice? Take off. Put a saddle on your universe. Let it kick itself out.

I can't do that. The kids, Jerry, my job, and, as much as I hate to admit it, ABC's The Bachelor--

I can make a clone of you. A perfect instance of you, with all your memories. An exact copy in every way. It'll love and provide for the kids, do your job, and consume broadcast-network reality TV on the same allegedly ironic level as you. You could be gone a day, a week, or the rest of your life with zero consequences. The moment you decide to come back, I flip a switch, and the clone's job is done. It feels no pain, it regrets nothing, and has zero chance of going Blade Runner.

If nothing matters, why would you do that for me?

I don't know, maybe you matter so little that I like you. Or maybe it makes you matter. Maybe I love you. Maybe something about your mother. Don't jump a gift shark in the mouth.

I don't know if I can do it.

Then stay, and luxuriate in a life you can finally know you've chosen. My secret bonus is that no matter what you choose, you're finally gonna chill the fuck out.