DISCLAIMER: In case you haven't figured it out yet, I don't own "Rick and Morty".

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Expect things to get worse before they get better.

The Blips and Chitz arcade-Rick's favorite place to zone out, unwind from a long and arduous day-was unusually busy this time of night. It was a school night even in other dimensions, but the place was filled with horny aliens of different size and shape everywhere, mouths drooling hungrily at the opposite sex with lovelust in their eyes.

To be young and horny again, Rick thought: a thought that was easily dismissed with a snort and a dignified strut towards his favorite virtual reality game. It was a game simply called "Roy", and Rick was more than delighted to see that it had recently come out with a highly popular "Roy 2". In the game, you were fully immersed in the consciousness of a young boy named Roy. You lived as Roy: slept as Roy, ate as Roy, laughed and cried as Roy. You graduated with ease from kindergarten, then elementary, then high school, then college; you met the love of your life, got married, had lovely children, and acquired a well-paying job. Unfortunately the job Roy had was always the manager of a carpet store (unless you were creative like Rick and decided to forgo mainstream education, marriage, kids, and said job, and take Roy "off the grid", as one impressed alien had said.

The game was not without challenge: Roy would typically come down with some kind of cancer beyond the player's control. When Rick played as Roy he discovered the cure for cancer and instantly became a world-renowned hero; after enjoying fifteen minutes of fame, he would then slip back into complete anonymity with ease. There would be no telling what challenges would come from "Roy 2"; he hadn't read the reviews yet and was jumping at the bit to play: especially after the kind of week he was having.

He was NOT going to think about that stupid fight he'd had with his grandson or his royally messed up life. He was going to play "Roy 2", dammit-and he was going to play it NOW!

Of course, when he arrived, there was already a large and lumpy creature oozing with sweat and drool sitting comfortably in his seat. Rules of the game were you weren't EVER supposed to interrupt someone when in the throes of playing Roy; it could prove as highly traumatizing, as you forgot entirely about your own identity while playing, and it took some time to snap out of Roy's reality and jump back into your own. Rick never had any problems with slipping in and out of realities so it was never an issue for him. He had also never had any problems breaking the rules, so he quickly pushed the "EMERGENCY EJECT" button on the "Roy 2" arcade machine. Immediately the machine began to rattle and shake, and even nearly short-circuited, and the next thing that any curious onlookers knew, the slimy, pudgy and rainbow-colored alien had been knocked from the chair to the floor, the virtual reality helmet knocked completely off of his head.

"AHHHHH!" screamed the alien, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull as he writhed about on the floor shrieking and foaming at the mouth, "I'm TOO YOUNG TO DIE! I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIIIIIE!"

"Somebody call 911!" one of the other aliens watching shouted with horror as several gasps of panic and distress filtered loudly through the crowd. As everyone nearby gathered around to try and help the screaming alien, Rick slid easily into the Roy 2 seat and placed the virtual reality helmet on top of his head, locking him into the game.

Roy 2 began much as Roy 1….except Roy 2 was Roy Jr., who now only had one parent: his mother, and had to look after his other siblings, while keeping things running consistently at the carpet store. Rick quickly ditched the carpet store leaving one of his other siblings-a boy Morty's age, a bit past fifteen-involved, and went for a wild excursion in the Amazon. He was not expecting the snake to pop of nowhere and sink into his ankle, oozing poisonous venom into his veins:

POW!

The hungry cobra suddenly disappeared and Rick was tossed instantly back into the real world of Blips and Chitz, saved from certain death by the fist of an angry looking alien that had the head of a giraffe and the body of a baboon, sending him spiraling out and onto the floor. "What the hell gives you the right?!" shouted the enraged alien, as Rick, momentarily dizzied from the reality switch, glowered vengefully back up at his attacker. "You have NO RIGHT to force someone off like that!" shouted the alien as he towered over Rick.

"Ah. You've seen me play and wish you had the guts to do what I do, right? Bet you always stayed at the carpet store to your death," Rick sneered as he held his throbbing temple where the alien's fist had connected with his flesh, "you probably turned into one of those uber-pathetic Roys who wound up killing themselves out of boredom, overwhelmed by your pathetic excuse of a lame-ass life, am I right?"

A slimy gob of spit slingshot through the air and hit Rick square in the face. "Go fuck yourself," the alien seethed, and yelled, "Hey we got a bully over here! Thinks he's better than everyone else! How about we teach this bully a lesson?"

"Go to hell," Rick rasped as he struggled to get up from the floor. His whole body suddenly ached, which wasn't typical for him; he was a strong motherfucker, and he wasn't going to let some whiny ass alien tell him what to do.

"Bullies aren't allowed at Blips," shouted another alien that looked like a turtle with fins and a dragon's tail.

"Yeah bully! Get the hell out of our clubhouse!" shouted another.

"It's a free universe, assholes," Rick snapped as he finally got to his feet. His vision blurred and he staggered, only momentarily before he regained his composure. "The guy was doing a shit job playing Roy anyway; he was just wasting power."

"Bully!" came a shout from behind him as he turned towards the exit door.

"Get him!" screamed another, and suddenly the pounding of footsteps over carpet sent Rick into full-on escape mode as he charged for the exit, nearly blacking out from exhuastion as he finally reached the doors and-

his foot was pulled from beneath him as he was dragged backwards:

And all at once, much too fast for him to react, they were on top of him: kicking him in the side, pounding him in the face, yelling and screaming obscenities. The room was a whitish spinning blur and so was everyone in it, and Rick felt his consciousness quickly fading, and soon there was nothing but darkness closing in.