Narrator: It was a dark and gloomy evening, and the noises of the city pervaded the streets. There was hardly a moment's silence. A fourteen year old Rick Sanchez-
Rick: I was *belch* f-fifteen.
Narrator pauses, perturbed.
Narrator: A fifteen year old Rick Sanchez was rigging the radiator of a stolen microwave to an improvised circuit board made from cardboard, chicken wire, and various items stolen from the orphanage kitchen. He was trying to-
Rick: D-d-don't even bother. *belch* The simple-minded dimwits reading this shit won't understand it any-a-anyways.
Morty: Rick, can ya cut it out? They're probably getting annoyed that you keep interrupting. We-we still don't know what the story is even about!
Rick: Shut up, Morty. If he's gonna tell the story at all. He's gonna tell it *hicup* he's gonna tell it the right way. Got it, Morty?
Rick takes another swig from his pocket flask.
Narrator: As I was saying… Rick Sanchez was doing some very intelligent science thing that only he could understand. Once it was completed, he took the device around to the alley behind the orphanage. It was there that he fastened it to the side of the building, ran down the alleyway and pressed the remote button he had fashioned to detonate it. Immediately, the device began to whirr and sputter. Within moments, however, the device exploded, sending sparks raining down on all parts of the alley. "Damnit." Rick cursed. As soon as it began to spark, Rick knew what he had done wrong. It was an error in the math. Instead of-
Rick: Ser-seriously *belch* don't even waste-don't even waste your breath ex-a-explaining.
Morty: Aww Rick, come on! We're never going to get to the end of the story if you keep doing that!
Morty gives Rick a very annoyed look.
Rick: Can we just get this bullshit over with already? I have very important science stuff I could be doing right now, and you chicken-shits are making me sit here, because you want to listen to my origins story. Well fuck you, Morty. Fuck you, Summer. And especially fuck you, mister Narrator. Where the fuck did you even come from anyways? You think you can tell my story better just because your voice is all deep and soothing and shit. Fuck this, I need another drink. Rick out!
Exit Rick with two middle fingers raised above his head.
Narrator: Well that was… uncalled for.
Summer: Can you at least finish the story? I wanna know what happened to Rick as a kid.
Narrator: Rick knew that he had made an error. He quickly gathered the pieces of his makeshift device-
Rick (faintly from the other room): -Transifunneling Microrber. It's called a Transifunneling Microrber.
Narrator: He took the transi-whatever thing, and he went back to his room in the orphanage. Rick set down the pieces of the broken device, and slid a cardboard box out from under the bed. Inside, there was an assortment of tools and random pieces of wiring and mechanisms. He dug around inside until he found what he was looking for. In about twenty minutes, Rick had reassembled the device, but when he returned to the back alley, he heard a scream. Rick looked down the alley, and he saw a young girl being assaulted by a large ruffian in a long coat. Instinctively, Rick pulled out a laser-pistol from his own coat and zapped the assailant. The man dropped to the ground, dead, revealing the most beautiful girl Rick had ever laid eyes upon.
Rick: Okay, that's enough. We're skipping ahead now. We don't need to hear any more about that…
Summer: What? No way! You have to tell us!
Rick: Listen, Summer. I don't mean to burst *belch* burst your bubble or anything, but that is the epitome of a flawed logic. He-he-he doesn't have to do anything. Nothing really matters, remember? Everything is optional, even breathing…. sometimes I wish you kids wouldn't.
Narrator: Rick said to himself, "Woah, it works!" looking at his laser-pistol in awe. He hadn't gotten an opportunity to test it until now. "I mean, I knew it would work. The math checked out on paper, but coooooool!" said Rick, eyeing his pistol with pride. "You saved me!" The girl gasped, wrapping her arms around Rick, still holding the gun. "What is your name?" The girl asked. Rick's complexion was bright pink. He stammered, "Me? Oh, I'm uh, you can call me Ricky."
Morty: Ricky? I didn't know you used to go by "Ricky."
Rick: Trust me, Morty. There's a lot of things you don't know about me. You'll grow outta "Morty" too one day.
Rick takes another long swig from his pocket flask.
Narrator: The girl responded, "Thank you Ricky. My name is Diane."
Summer: Grandpa Rick, is Diane our Grandma?
Rick: Shut up, Summer.
Summer: Is she?
Rick: I said shut up!
Summer: Oh my god, she is!
Narrator: It would be another two years before Rick would cross paths with Diane again-
Rick: D-Don't pretend like meeting her was destiny or some *belch* or some-some bullshit like that. There are plenty of alternate universes where I don't save her... I know. I've been to them. No one exists for a reason. Nothing happens on purpose. Everybody dies.
Narrator: Two years later, a seventeen year old Rick is about to enter an ice cream parlor one evening, when he hears, "Bobby, stop! You're hurting me!" Rick turns around and sees a girl struggling inside the boy's car. "Ugh, seriously?" said Rick. In a few moments, Rick had opened the car door, dragged the boy out, and kicked him in the balls. "What the fuck, man?" the boy cried. "Get lost." Rick replied, holding his laser-pistol against the boy's head. Within minutes, the boy got up and drove off. Then, Rick found himself having ice cream with the same girl he had saved in an alley two years earlier.
Summer: You don't call that destiny?
Rick: No, I call it prob*belch*ability. We lived in the same city for like, for like twenty years. The odds of us meeting more than once was almost certain.
Summer (grinning inspiredly): Ah, destiny!
Rick: You people are idiots.
Narrator: Rick and Diane were eating their ice cream, when Diane asked, "How come I never see you at school?" She was a senior in high school at the time. "I don't go to school." answered Rick. "What do you mean?" Diane inquired further. "I'll tell ya a little something about school, Diane," Rick began, "it's a waste of time… It's just a bunch of people running around, bumping into each other. Guy up front says, 'two plus two,' people in the back say, 'four.' Then the bell rings, and they give you a carton of milk and a piece of paper that says you can go take a dump or something. It's not a place for smart people, Diane. I guess you're entitled to your own opinions on the matter, but that's just how I feel about the whole issue." Rick had finished his ice cream, and he made his way to the door. "Wait," Diane called after him. "Where are you going?" She asked. Rick turned around to her and said, "Where do you think, Diane? I'm going home. I have very important science stuff to do." Diane flipped her hair over her shoulder and asked, "Well, since Bobby left. I still need a ride home." Rick wished that he could say no to her. He didn't have time for this. There were too many things that required his immediate attention. Yet, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. The way she batted her eyes at him. The way she smiled so gently at him. After a long hesitation, Rick finally said, "Fine, where do you live?"
Rick: Morty, I need your help! We gotta go right now, Morty!
Exit Rick and Morty.