To Mortimer Smith Sr. (of dimension C-137) Planet Flannel looked a lot like certain parts of Earth; the dry ground, the hot, arid atmosphere, the vegetation, even some of the animal life; and it was beginning to bother him. Rick knew this because pubescent human shield kept musing these thoughts in loud nasally bursts that grated against his ears.

"Gee, I-I don't know Rick, this place doesn't look that different from Earth, and I mean, it was named after a type of shirt. Does-doesn't that seem a little strange to you?" the fourteen year old asked scratching the back of his head, and looking around himself periodically with an overwhelming sense of unease, and an all-around ignorance his grandfather found at once pathetically endearing, but also had the urge to beat out of him.

Reaching into his lab coat Rick produced his gleaming sliver flask, the one thing in the universe that could never fail him, and took a swig which burnt pleasantly the whole way down. "Ye-ughh-ah, Morty, and planets with assholes sticking out of the ground and toilet paper tree-ees are perfectly normal."

Morty's expression fell, but only for a moment as the two continued walking along the lone dusty trail they'd parked the ship beside. Then the boy's face lit up, his energy so palpable Rick knew immediately what Morty was thinking before he even spoke. "It almost feels like we're cowboys in the wild, wild west." he started with youthful impetuousness, before the social anxiety got to him. "Y-you know, in a way..."

Rick didn't acknowledge the little outburst, it was better not to reward the bad behavior; instead they just kept walking.

Then Morty did the most Morty thing he could have done; tripped, fell off the path and down a little incline, before standing up gingerly, and whimpering in pain. "Um... Rick..." the teen asked holding his arms outstretched, body lined with tiny barbed spines from the plant he had just scurried out of.

Heaving a sigh the old man turned with a dull expression to stare at his grandson who looked like a scarecrow after a rougher-than-bargained-for one night stand with a steroidal porcupine.

"This, this isn't some sort of you know poisonous space cactus, is it Grandpa Rick?" he asked brows furrowed with concern.

"Don't be stupid Morty, that's just-" the scientist started saying but stopped himself his expression becoming worried. "Morty that's opuntia basilaris!" he shouted suddenly. "Do you know what this means?"

"Wh-what? Am I going to die?" Morty questioned fear creeping into him.

"No Mo-ooor-rty, it means its a cactus," Rick said with bluntness, watching the fourteen year old deflate a bit with relief at his current situation, and disappointment in his elder. "But it also means we're about to be rich, bitch!"


The sun beat down hot and heavy on the pair of wayfaring travellers as they continued up the only trail, and there for, only sign of sentient life this planet had. Rick had doubled his pacing while Morty lagged behind, trying to pull the spines out as they went, punctuating the act with an "ouch" or "oh man this sucks" every time. It was getting to be all Rick could stand when he pulled out his portal gun, and popped a green oval into a nearby rock face. Stepping through he reappeared moments later with a roll of duct tape.

"Gi-give me your arm Morty." he instructed unwinding a legth from the spool.

Morty, who complied despite his unease had just asked why when Rick slapped the tape down and gave a rip. The teen howled in shock and pain. "Knock yourself out." Rick muttered tossing Morty the gleaming roll.

"Gee thanks for the warning Rick!" Morty grumbled looking down at the bright red stripe of skin that ran down his forearm, all the needles were gone alright but so was any arm hair he'd had leaving a bald highway lined with fair toned hair on either side. "Great, what will Jessica think!"

Ignoring him Rick walked on until he came to a shoulder high mound in the red soil, there was a small blue door facing out of it. "Play i-iiigh-t cool." he instructed, running his tongue along the inside of his lower lip before stooping down to knock on the wooden structure.

There was a subtle dragging sound, then appearing behind the door was what looked like lime jello in the spiraled shape of a dog turd.

"May I help you?" Dog Turd asked in a lilting tone, his form quavering like the Earth dessert he reminded them of.

"Ye-ugh-ah, you the home owner?" Rick asked with a type of command, looking passed the blob with disinterest.

"Yes, how can I-" the alien began, but Rick was already pushing by and into his home.

"Y-eeegghh-up, this is a DICK, if I've ever seen one." Rick went on eyeing the space which looked surprisingly like your average home, furniture, TV, mantle place, and a few potted plants.

"A, a what?" the gelatinous creature murmured.

"A DICK: Illegal Misappropriation, Alienation, and Distribution of Indigenous Cacti, and Ke-Eee-lp." Rick replied as though he'd had some practice at this, earning a quizzical glance from Morty.

"Um..." started the home owner. "Wouldn't that mean IM A DICK?"

"Sh-ugh-ure, whatever you say pal, but it also means you're a felon." Rick explained. "And we're going to need the name of your distributor."

"Oh-oh God!" the alien stammered as he shook, a puddle of what everyone hoped was sweat pooling around his base. "Please don't tell my wife, she just wanted a few nice things for the yard is all!"

"Yard?" Morty asked his gaze shifting between them as Rick moved to lean against the wall with the mantle.

"Yeah, M-Morty, this whole planet belongs to this thieving shi-iiIi-t stain, that 'path' was his driveway."

"So..." the boy drug out his dimwitted question. "Does that mean we're breaking and entering?"

"No Morty, we're the police we don't 'break and enter,'" Rick elaborated looping his arm around an expensive looking vase on the mantle. "We enter and if necessary, (like when suspects refuse give us names) we break!" Rick punctuated his sentence by sweeping his arm forward causing the vessel to shatter against the floor in a loud crash, a noxious plum of dust filling the space.

The humans, possessing lungs where the other creature did not began to hack and choke on the fumes immediately. As the room cleared the pair was left rubbing feverishly at red watering eyes. Then it happened; the light, fettering buzz Rick had been working on all morning erupted into a full on high the world shifting and worming like the ripple of water all around him. He was also acutely aware of the taste of his tongue, every hair follicle on his body, and the sound of his own fingernails growing as the rest of his senses blared maddeningly.

"Whoa," Rick murmured. "What the f**k was that?"

"My mother..." Dog Turd half sobbed as he looked at the pile of ash forlornly.

"Rick... Rick... G-grandpa Rick..." Morty whimpered tugging at the old man's sleeve with a trembling hand as he stared across the room at something no one else could see.

"Shh-shh-shh Morty, the grown ups are talking. N-n-now, I-I am going to need the name of your distributor, a-Augh-and the address of the crematorium th-th-this fine work was achieved at." Rick instructed producing a pen and paper from a coat pocket as his head whipped from side to side as he took in everything.

Dog Turd looked about ready to cry, "Why do you need the address of the-"

"Just give me the address!" Rick bellowed menacingly a switch going off somewhere within. Reluctantly the jello did as he was told and wrote down the information leaving Rick to haul his wailing grandson outside as the fourteen year old raved about all the dark things the sand was telling him to do, nails raking down his face as he screamed.

After some struggle, trial and error, and a brief bout of verbal abuse Rick had drug Morty to the ship and gotten him buckled into the passenger seat, where the boy assumed the fetal position and continued his caterwauling in an ever climbing pitch that soon, Rick felt, only canines would be able to hear. Jumping into the driver's seat and kicking the minnie saucer to lift off before he'd shut the door securely, Rick was speeding away enjoying his inebriated state.

"J-j-just calm down Morty, Morty just calm down. I kn-Ooo-ow how to fix this!"

Morty nodded his understanding, glad they'd be going to a hospital and squeezed shut his eyes.

Instead when they landed and he looked around they were on a tiny blue moon. Morty pulled himself up just enough to make out the somber fonted sign above the the building which read, "Spleech and Splog's Crematorium."

"Oh, Rick!" Morty cried sinking back down into the chair as a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. "I-I-I need a doctor!"

His pleas were met with silence as he turned to find he was alone, the opposing door left ajar the flutter of his grandfather's lab coat caught behind the wretch as he ran through the front doors and into the squat facility. Grunting with effort Morty crawled across console and shut it, pressing down on the little nob until it locked with a satisfying "click."

Moments later Rick was back outside arms over loaded with urns, a flock of anrgy mourners and employees chasing after him. Yanking on the door handle the man looked behind him and then in through the window to where Morty was losing his mind.

"O-open the door Morty!" he gritted between his teeth. "Morty open the door!"

"No!"

"Open the damn door you piece of shi-it!"

"No, I-I said I needed a doctor!" Morty whined rolling away.

"Morty!" Rick snapped before his shoulders slumped. "Fine." he said with resignation, forehead pressed against the glass dividing them.

There was a "click."

Leaping in the old man emptied his hands onto the floor by his grandson's feet, but before taking off he paused to hover about twenty feet up, dropped his pants and shook his ass at the bereaved flock that had gathered outside. "Suck my balls!" he called out triumphantly before reassuming his driving and speeding off into the ever night that is space.


"Feeling be-Eeugh-tter Morty?" Rick asked pioleting away from the hospital with an almost bored expression.

Morty nodded, "Thanks Rick. C-can we go home now?" asked the bright eyed and detoxed youth who, regardless of appearances still felt a bit under the weather.

"No can do Morty," came the immediate response. "We-ee-'ve got an 'X-K' to track down," Rick went on glancing at the paper in hand. "In ...aw shit, in the Anthropomorphia system... Great..."

Morty heaved a sigh knowing he wasn't getting out of this anytime soon and gazed out the window wistfully as his grandfather ranted about some up-skirting zebra bitch. It wasn't unusual for him to be carted away like this, so why it bothered him so often was still a bit of a mystery, almost as much so as to why Rick kept bringing him, strategic, mental camouflage aside.

The pair wove through the stars for about an hour before they finally seemed to have found the place it was a rather ordinary looking planet, with three moons and several other celestial neighbors nearby. Navigating through the atmosphere Rick double checked what Dog Turd had penned parking under a street lamp just outside a bar called, "Heads, and Tails."

Walking inside Morty was taken away by all the animals dressed, talking, and acting like humans. Actually, even their anatomy reflected people, he realized, captivated by an extra curvy sparrow who spotted him before running fingers through her plumage seductively. "Oh man!" the teen said with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

"Eyes forward Morty, homo-phelia is illegal on planet, but this bar," Rick rolled his hand in the air looking for the right word. "Caters to the ki-Iii-nk. Trust me Morty, you don't want a lion trying to take a bite o-oouugh-ut of you if you know what I mean!" Looking down at the now horror stricken face of the kid Rick grinned and threw his hands out on either side, "Wubba-lubba-dub-dub!" he laughed in and I-got-you manner before approach the counter.

"Can I help you?" asked a flamboyant, one eared elephant with a grin. Examining the odd pair before him, he reached out with his oversized, meaty fingers and caressed the side of Morty's face. "Mmm-mmm-mm, just wait until I get my trunk on you, or should I say in you!" he gushed playfully.

"See-ee what I mean Morty?" Rick asked, proven right yet again before turning back to the bartender. "I'm lo-Oough-oking for an 'X-K.'"

"Oh," the pachyderm said with a pout seeing as he likely wasn't going to be having any fun tonight. "He's sitting over there."

"Yeah, thanks elephan-goph." Rick waved dismissively as he and Morty who was so close they were nearly standing on one another walked away. The elephant gasp with tears in his eyes touching the stump where his ear should have been.

"Y-you know Grandpa Rick, I-I think I should go wait in the ship." Morty said pensively as he caught more than a half dozen eyes following him.

"You want to walk a dark parking lot on your o-oigh-wn to where we parked?" he asked rhetorically. "Go ahead."

With his idea shot down in such an unappealing way Morty found himself walking closer behind Rick until they stopped before a booth. Across from them sat a figure in a large brown trenchcoat, and a lowered fedora, smoke trailing lazily towards the ceiling from the cigarette held in a purple furred, six fingered hand.

"You X-K?" Rick asked sliding into the other bench.

"Whose asking?" came the gruff voiced reply.

"Either you are or you aren't," Rick sighed with annoyance. "I don't have time to pl-play stupid games. This isn't the forties!"

After taking a long draw the creature looked up revealing a grape hued primate face, and a very devilish grin. "Yeah, I'm X-K, X-K the ape. What do you want old man?"

Rick leveled the "businessman" with a killing glare as Morty finally slunk in beside him. There was something amiss something he couldn't quite pinpoint, but it was bothering him. Rick ran his tongue along the inside of his lower lip as he thought.

"L-l-look, 'X-K' first of all I might be old, but I-I still know when I'm being had, and s-second," he said reaching under the table. "Apes don't have tails."

The violet monkey gave a shrill screech when Rick produced the tip of the furry appendage on his side of the table. "Listen, I'm sorry I am!" X-K said frantically as he sunk down in his seat. "You gotta let go man, do you know what they do to monkies in a place like this!" he whispered urgently eyes bulging.

"D-do you have any idea what they'd do to you in a place like the Galactic Federal prison?" Rick countered with a wicked grin.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" Stammered the stranger losing all of his mystery and noir as the panic set it. "You're cops?" he asked gaze shifting around the room.

"So, X-K tell us where you got the pl-aaugh-ants."

A short while later and Rick and Morty were heading towards the door with a new name and a new address. "S-so how exactly is this going to make rich Grandpa Rick?" Morty asked as they walked passed a horse riding a busty blonde woman with reigns in her mouth. When Rick didn't reply and the boy was able to pry his attention away he tried a new tactic. "Wh-what's to keep X-K from calling this next guy and t-telling him we're coming?"

Rick stopped dead in his tracks, "Y-you know Morty th-that's a very good question." he said filling the boy with pride before turning to a gorilla at a nearby table. "Hey, King Kong, there's a pu-uUr-rple furred ass clown of a monkey calling himself an ape in the corner booth back there." Rick commented, motioning with his thumb back the way they'd come. The gorilla was on his feet at once.

"Oh gee G-grandpa Rick," Morty stammered as they walked outside amid the painful sounds of screams for help. "Th-that was a pretty messed up thing to do!"

"Yup," Rick agreed taking a swig from his flask. "There's just no explaining racism."

Hopping from planet to planet, system to system then, everything seemed to lead from one dead end to another, and one case of food poisoning to the next.

"S-see Morty, what did I tell you Morty, th-that's why you don't eat Blipo Burgers Morty!" went one particularly one sided conversation as Morty threw up in fast-food parking lot.

"Just sh-shut up Rick!" Morty snapped, dry heaving for a minute. "And t-take me home!"

"S-sure thing, j-uUgh-st one more stop." Rick seemed to promise holding up his right hand sincerely. "A-and you can rest on the way."

"Whatever." Morty grumbled stuck with the shit end of the stick, yet again.

The teen had dozed off not long after they resumed their devil-may-care mission and only to wake up just as they were nearing Earth. "We going home already?" Morty asked with relief.

"N-ough-o Morty, I just figured if you want to halt the distribution, you gotta kill the snake, by c-cutting off it's head. I got the location of the head."

"So you're going to find the human whose selling the cactuses?" Morty ventured. "Where e-exactly is this guy?"

"N-New Mexico."

As the ship came in for a landing near a beat up looking camper van, a thin, white, bald man came out to meet them. He had a gas mask hung around his neck and wore only tighty-whities he looked a bit dumbfounded, and kept one hand behind his back.

"You the one selling cacti?" Rick asked bluntly.

"Selling what?" Baldy asked, brow furrowed as he glanced back over his shoulder towards the van.

"Ca-augh-cti, you sell it?" Rick went on. The stranger's mouth hung open for a second as though he were trying to think of what to say before he was gripped by a sudden coughing fit.

"Th-this guys a joke." Rick observed turning away with disgust. "A-alright, we were had Morty, bogus location, I-I lost sight of the end goal. M-my bad Morty."

"Its alright Rick." Morty found himself saying as they walked away. "I-I mean, is-is it even illegal to sell cactuses?"

"No idea." his grandfather confessed. "N-ough-o idea."

"Huh, so you think they just gave us some random information to get rid of us?" Morty asked, always the one to talk out his problems. "Makes you kinda wonder what that guy was doing, you know, o-out in the middle of nowhere, doesn't?"

"Yeah," Rick laughed. "Its hard to imagine that guy as the head of anything, let alone some underground criminal enterprise!" The two laughed heartily as they zoomed off, leaving the bald man to watch with a confused awe, relaxing the arm behind his back, the one that held the gun...


Rick stood on the street corner, the collar of his lab coat popped up against the breeze, hands in his pockets, shades obscuring his eyes. A fidgeting young man with tasseled black hair edged closer and closer until they were standing right next to one another.

"Hey," the kid whispered in a way that was by no means conspicuous. "You got the stuff?"

"D-depends, what 'stuff' you talking about?"

"The stuff!" the kid gritted out. "You know," he said glancing about with suspicion. "The 'mom?'"

Rick grinned reaching into his lab coat and pulling out a small back of ash, "Kid tested," he laughed...