So I decided to write for a bit. Like legit I'm that board

Prologue

--_--_--_--_--_--_--_--_-

Cornered and frightened, Regina struggles to get her portal gun working while backing into the wall of the dead end alleyway. "Shit shit shit" she mutters as the portal gun tries to turn on. "Fucking battery. Turn on you stupid shit!" Finally resorting to hitting it the portal gun is activated with a final hit. Relief flows Regina as she selects her destination and creates a portal. Relief turns to a numbing feeling to her left when she looks down to find her left leg bleeding profusely. "No" she whispers as she falls down. Cradling her leg she looks towarss the entrance and sees the person that had been chasing her since her last trip to the citadel. "Ah fucking hell." Are her final words.

"On today's news another rick killed by the Szechuan Slasher. D-76c, w-w *urpp* what are the specifics?"

"Well, D-76b, The famous author of the Morty Pocket Guides, Novelist Rick has been found dead in-in his pent house app-artment this Saturday at 9:05am by his a his cleaning lady. His body was on his desk mutilated and smother with Szechuan Sauce."

"Jesus christ this is the 4th death by the heads of this douche bag."

"Uh yeah we know that already."

"But I mean jeez this guys been- he's been- he's been on a role with killing these ricks. The first one he killed was that Reggie chick. Then Der Kock-"

"Koch"

"Yeah guy with a terrible name was in- found with half his remains in the grinder. The Szechuan Slasher made a bunch of sausages out of the guy."

"I think the worst was what happened to that Weird guy. Weird Rick was found head first in a public toilet. When physician rick and nurse rick started doing the autopsy they found he swallowed some shit and Szechuan sauce."

"So he didn't drown? He chocked on his own shit and some McDonalds sauce?"

"Y-yeah its pretty- it was pretty fucking disgusting."

"Well until authorities find the suspect we will continue our mandatory curfews and screenings"

"This is D-76c and D-76b giving you a good fuck you for tonight."

Turning off the motel television, a mysterious figure looks back at the wall behind the set.

A wall of every rick that's been killed and soon to be killed. Setting it's eyes on the next victim. It says, "Time to dance, Ricky Urine." --