Datasets:
jmaczan
/
rick-and-morty-script

Dataset card Data Studio Files Community
1
text
stringlengths
0
1.11k
Well, my daughter is about five away, and I've got about eight to live.
Pickle Rick:
Oh, well, uh, she knows. I mean, we don't really buy into that kind of crap, to the extent that love is an expression of familiarity over time, my access to infinite timelines precludes the necessity of attachment. In fact, I even abandoned one of my infinite daughters in an alternate version of earth that was taken over by mutants.
Pickle Rick:
Huh? Uh, no. No, nope, sorry about that. Nope, just me. Yeesh!
Beth:
I am afraid that my kids will get expelled.
Dr. Wong:
Good. Summer, you go.
Summer:
I am mad that I can't huff enamel without people assuming it's because my family sucks. I hope to be seen one day as someone that just likes getting high.
Dr. Wong:
Good job. Morty, do you have an "I" statement?
Morty:
I am sad that I peed. I'm sad that I peed in class instead of a toilet.
Dr. Wong:
Look at this family go. You guys are pros. What do you guys think about doing this once a week?
Pickle Rick:
Ugh.
Dr. Wong:
You must be Rick.
Pickle Rick:
Mm-hmm.
Dr. Wong:
I've heard a lot about you today. Your family is crazy about you. Your daughter holds you in very high regard. You're a lucky fella.
Pickle Rick:
Yeah, thank you. Uh, sweetie, you don't still happen to have that syringe in your purse?
Beth:
Dad I would like you to tell me what's in the syringe.
Pickle Rick:
It's a serum that I need to, uh, to stay alive. I have had a rough day. And, uh, I've sustained a lot of damage. I'm pretty close to death, which the serum will prevent.
Dr. Wong:
By changing you from a pickle to a human.
Pickle Rick:
Yes.
Dr. Wong:
Rick, why did you lie to your daughter?
Pickle Rick:
So I wouldn't have to come here.
Dr. Wong:
Why didn't you want to come here?
Pickle Rick:
Because I don't respect therapy, because I'm a scientist. Because I invent, transform, create, and destroy for a living, and when I don't like something about the world, I change it. And I don't think going to a rented office in a strip mall to listen to some agent of averageness explain which words mean which feelings has ever helped anyone do anything. I think it's helped a lot of people get comfortable and stop panicking, which is a state of mind we value in the animals we eat, but not something I want for myself. I'm not a cow. I'm a pickle. When I feel like it. So...you asked.
Dr. Wong:
Rick, the only connection between your unquestionable intelligence and the sickness destroying your family is that everyone in your family, you included, use intelligence to justify sickness. You seem to alternate between viewing your own mind as an unstoppable force and as an inescapable curse. And I think it's because the only truly unapproachable concept for you is that it's your mind within your control. You chose to come here, you chose to talk -to belittle my vocation- just as you chose to become a pickle. You are the master of your universe, and yet you are dripping with rat blood and feces. Your enormous mind literally vegetating by your own hand. I have no doubt that you would be bored senseless by therapy, the same way I'm bored when I brush my teeth and wipe my ass. Because the thing about repairing, maintaining, and cleaning is it's not an adventure. There's no way to do it so wrong you might die. It's just work. And the bottom line is, some people are okay going to work, and some pee well, some people would rather die. Each of us gets to choose.
Pickle Rick:
I, um I'm sorry I lied to get out of the thing. I, I shouldn't lie to you.
Beth:
Oh, it's fine. I mean, thank you, and, yeah, you shouldn't. But I hope you know that's not what that session was supposed to be.
Pickle Rick:
Oh, no, I mean, I know it was Morty peeing his pants and Summer snorting glue or whatever...
Beth:
She huffed enamel, and we never even talked about it.
Pickle Rick:
Well, there was so much more at stake. I mean, that shrink, what a monologuist.
Summer:
Are we gonna go back?
Pickle Rick:
Sweetie, could I get Get that syringe now?
Beth:
Oh, my God, yes! Dad, it's in my purse. Oh, I'm sorry. You must be in agony.
Pickle Rick:
Eh.
Pickle Rick:
Jesus. Jesus Christ. Therapists, man.
Beth:
Weird breed.