"Wait, wait, I got a good one, I got a good one."
Rick turned his green mesh optic over to the Space sphere, who was orbiting too close for his liking. He narrowed his eye plates a little. The clear message to buzz off sailed right over Space sphere's head and he took a simulated deep breath, apparently setting up for something really good.
"Knock, knock," he said brightly, top handle lifting expectantly.
Oh sweet baby Jesus, Rick thought, emitting a sound similar to a frustrated sigh.
"I know who's there. Space. Like the last four FRIGGAN' times," he got more riled up the more he tried to keep himself calm.
The Space sphere's optic widened in surprise and shock, "How did you know!"
Rick stared at the yellow core with a blank expression. Space was just as horrifically annoying in space as he had been in the goddamn reject box. The energetic sphere rolled a little bit in thought before focusing back on Rick.
"Rick, Rick, hey, hey, hey, Rick… Rick… hey, hey hey, hey, Rick, hey Rick—"
"WHAT?"
"Your turn," Space mumbled a bit quieter.
The handle dropped over the top of Rick's optic in disbelief, "Knock. Knock," he deadpanned.
"Who's there!" Space answered excitedly.
"Shut the HELL UP!" Rick roared.
Space paused, processing this for a moment, "Shut the hell up, who?"
The eye plates on Rick's spherical body could not reach back any further behind his optic in a tense rage. He eventually deflated with a huff sound and glanced over at their other companion. He idly wondered if the blue-eyed mope machine would help him commit ritual suicide.