Rick sucked on the mocha milkshake and followed up, disturbingly gleeful, "And what did it smell like Morty? The molted husk?"

"Uh," Morty stammered, "It didn't smell like anything."

"Uh huh!" Rick pumped his head up and down vigorously nodding, "Do you remember it having no odor, or do you not remember smelling it?"

Morty felt blood drain from his face, "I don't remember smelling anything. What's the big deal?"

Rick grinned with his lips deliberately spread wide over his grinning teeth, "So you remembered it was wrinkly, speckled, and had pores where hair came through, but nothing about odor. You were close enough to see pores, yet… nothing!"

"Yeah!" Morty huffed, "I don't remembering smelling anything!"

"Yes, but you don't remember smelling nothing either!"

"That's… what are you…?" Morty floundered.

"You remember fine details back at the hotel, but now that we're at Shoney's and you have no parasites around, you can't recall any odors. Oddly non-specific, wouldn't you say?"

Morty folded his arms, "Okay, fine, I don't remember details. The parasites elaborate on memories I don't actually have."

"All the better to convince yourself they actually happened, right?"

"Yeah, that would make sense."

Rick leaned back and sucked the straw, then smiled, then sucked again.

Morty watched, taking a moment to recognize smug silence for what it was.

"Memories are vague if parasites aren't around, specific if they're with me."

Rick looked right, taking in the decor.

Rick stayed oddly silent and Morty saw the next stage, smug basking in Morty missing the obvious and building to sweet bliss when he';d see Morty feel stupid.

Morty scowled as then dropped his head down, resting his forehead in his hands. The jig was up, he might as well make it obvious he was thinking.

Not much longer afterward, he lifted his head and Rick locked eyes with him, flicking the straw from his mouth with his tongue, his lips coming to rest in a smirk.

Morty closed his eyes slowly, "There was no molting. That never happened and Sleepy Gary wasn't okay."

Rick caught the straw on the point of a canine tooth and flicked at it with his tongue, "So what did happen, Morty?"

Morty furrowed his brow, "We took Uncle Gary home to die in peace at home. We made a vegetable peelings slushy for him. Then some tea. Dad read poetry to him then he came out of the bedroom saying what a good nap he'd had."

"Yawn," Rick said, with no attempt at onomatopoeia, "That's the best they came up with?"

Morty closed his eyes again and scrunched his face up, "Fuck this, Rick. Quit playing. I'm tired of being the fool. What the hell happened, because clearly I don't know and I'm sick of watching you enjoy my being an idiot."

"Is that what you are, Morty?" Rick feigned shock, "An idiot?"

"Whatever word you want to use. My brain is muddled up and reality isn't what I think. I'm wrong about simple things. Important things and when you're wrong about simple things, what other word is there?"

Rick switched to a sidelong glance at his grandson, "There's the beginning of wisdom."

"If you do say so yourself," Morty grumped.

After a lengthy silence demonstrating Morty was done volunteering his ignorance or begging Rick for enlightenment, Rick leaned forward and said in a low voice, "Most of shit parts are true, Morty. They're miserable memories, and you can trust those. Parasites don't let you remember bad memories and they don't seem to tamper much with actual bad stuff that happens. Not even the bad stuff they, themselves do. Remember Muscle Duck restraining me in the garage? They put memories in, I'm not sure whether they take them out. How would you know, after all? That's the problem with fucking parasites. It's why I record all my interactions to dust out all the rainbow vomit those fucks put in my brain after one of our picnics or pool parties."

"So, Sleepy Gary died and this one we have now is a replacement," Morty said tentatively.

Rick smiled, "Idiot is too harsh a word. Half-wit maybe."

Morty grimaced at the concession, "The Sleepy Gary stitched together happy memories that he never died."

Pause.

"But he never did die, he came out of the bedroom and was fine. We didn't find the corpse of the old one."

"Yeah," Rick tapped his cheek, looking up. "That was a nice touch, covering his tracks like that."

"Did the replacement come from you?" Morty asked.

"Duh," Rick rolled his eyes.

"What about the 'short fuse' thing? I thought you were ready for us to all realize how dumb we were and just miss Uncle Gary and feel like fools."

Rick lowered his head and would have looked over his glasses at Morty, if he'd ever worn them, "I said you could keep Sleepy Gary. How else do I keep that sniveling creature away from my daughter? He never should have been a part of her life to begin with and he may pull whatever trick he did the first time and get back with her."

Morty glared at Rick, "You don't like time travel, you say, but you could make sure they never meet. If it's important enough to you. Of course, you won't, because we';re having this conversation."

"Novikov's self-consistency's a bitch," Rick said, going back for another draw on his milkshake.

Morty didn't avert his gaze a micron.

"Oh cheer up, Morty. I wouldn't even try. I don't just keep you around to be a decoy or human shield. Deep down you know that."

Morty folded his arms again and looked to the side, glaring at the floor instead.

"So when the others die, You'll just let them?"

"What your father and that worm clone do isn't my concern, unless it threatens global eradication of life. It hasn't. The whole disaster wraps itself up in a neat little bow within a year. I'm not a religious man, but morons shouldn't play God."

Morty's face fell.

"I lose everybody again," he sighed.

"Hey, I only promised to fix what I broke, and I'm not the one that made them disposable. I just get to say, 'I told you so.'"

"So why did you let me in on this, why not just let me enjoy the rest of their lives while they're still with us."

Rick flicked the straw between his lower and upper teeth with a click. "Better to keep you in the dark? To keep secrets from you?"

Morty slumped in his booth seat.

"It's a terrible secret to keep to yourself," Rick said, "A man's entire family is about to be wiped out. And I wasn't supposed to warn him?

Morty cocked an eyebrow, "You? Worried about my feelings? The Rick I know revels in sentimentality that burns people. Cynicism and schadenfreude are your cocaine."

"This one time, Morty? It wasn't all upside."