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Morty:
Nuh uh!
Summer:
Yeah huh!
Rick:
Actually, sorry Summer, I gotta back the M bomb on this one. I remember the conversation. We told Morty to replace all the bank's money with cookies, your job was to put the mattress under Mr. Benson.
Morty:
Boom! In your face Summer! You really dropped the ball, man.
Summer:
Shut up Morty, you vindictive little turd!
Morty:
You shut up you big... female asshole!
Summer:
I didn't!
Morty:
You didn't what?
Morty:
What's yours?
Morty:
You shut up!
Rick:
Whoa whoa wh-what the hell hell hell hell hell?
All Ricks:
Oh God, oh no, what did you guys just do?
Summer 1:
What do you mean?
All Summers:
Wait, what am I saying?
Rick:
Were either of you guys uncertain about anything just now?
All Mortys:
Oh man... I don't feel good.
Morty 1:
Am I me? I think so.
Morty 2:
A-am I talking right now?
All Mortys:
Wait, who said that?
All Ricks:
Alright both of you, just don't move, don't speak, don't think. I have to check something.
Summer 1:
What should we do Morty?
Morty 1:
Let's see if he needs help.
Morty 2:
What do you mean you're gonna help him.
Summer 1:
Ugh, I can help too.
All Summers:
What's happening Grampa?
All Ricks:
Shut up! Oh crap are you kidding me? Two dots? This never needs to be more than one dot. The two of you made us uncertain!
Morty 1:
What do you mean?
Morty 2:
What? In English?
Summer 1:
What? English please?
All Ricks:
Our time is fractured. You two somehow created a feedback loop of uncertainty that's split our reality into two equally possible impossiblities. W-we're exactly like a man capable of sustaining a platonic friendship with an attractive female co-worker. We're entirely hypothetical.
All Mortys:
But I thought there were infinite timelines.
All Ricks:
We're not on any timeline, dummy. Look.
All Mortys:
Oh, my God!