The end of the countdown was drowned out by urgent knocking and the rest of the family yelling at once.
"Rick! Let us in! I have a right to know if there's some kind of alien mutant sci-fi bacteria in my garage again!"
"Grandpa Rick! You good in there? Your flashing cube things said we were all fine, sooo…"
"Dad! What's going on? Should I be worried? Is the President going to show up in a few minutes with a bunch of guys in hazmat suits, or whatever the interplanetary version of that is?"
"Rick! Come on! L-let us in! What's wrong? If nothing's wrong and this is a joke, it's not funny, and you're an asshole. But if something is wrong, it sounds bad, and like maybe you need help. So let us in!"
"Shit, shit, shit!" Rick muttered, pushing the cubes and the computer displaying the test results aside. He cleared his throat and said more loudly, "Alright, alright! It's not locked, and since when the fuck do any of you knock?! You can come in, just maybe stay back. Don't get too *COUGH!* close."
The others all looked at each other hesitantly for a second, then Morty opened the door.
"Dad? Are you alright? We uhh, heard your alarms going off, and it sounded like the last one said you have some kind of infection. Is this something we should be concerned about? Those alarms sounded awfully…intense." Beth said worriedly, taking a few tentative steps forward.
"Yeah, sorry about that. It's a system I implemented a while back but never f-finished. It's supposed to detect any type of viral or bacterial pathogen. From any planet, satellite, etc, in any reality. *Sniff!* And ranging in severity from 'You may not even realize you have anything' to 'By the time you realize you have something, you're already dead.'" Rick started to explain, keeping his back turned to the others. Unfortunately, at that worst possible point in the explanation, he started coughing badly again. The looks on everyone's faces became more concerned. Jerry clung to his golf club tightly, now practically hugging it instead of getting ready to swing it.
"R-Rick?..." Morty said timidly, moving a little closer to his grandpa. Beth pulled him back by the collar of his pajama top.
"Sorry again. I know, the timing of that couldn't have been any worse. Or more clichéd. What I was trying to say was, this system is supposed to automatically differentiate between what's trivial and what's serious. But it's unfinished, and there's clearly some wires to uncross. So what happened was a high-level response to a low-level *ACHOO!* threat." Rick continued, his voice lower and more gravelly than usual.
"So what is it exactly? Because no offense Grandpa, but you sound like shit. And I'm guessing the reason you're not looking at us is that you look worse than you sound." Summer said. Spotting a box of tissues on a shelf, she tossed it to Rick. It bounced off his shoulder and landed next to him on the floor.
"Dammit, Summer! It's too early for you to be this perceptive! Ugh. Also, thanks." Rick grumbled, eagerly grabbing the box.
He blew his nose loudly, then, still not bothering to get up, turned to face the family and continued, "I know, I know. Between the scare the alarms gave us all, and the fact I am clearly not doing great at the moment, me telling you everything is fine is not likely to inspire a lot of *Cough!* confidence. But rest assured, we're dealing with a nuisance, not a crisis."
"Rick, you're still kinda talking in circles and not actually answering any questions. You keep saying, 'This isn't serious.' and "This is nothing to worry about.' But what is 'this', exactly?" Morty questioned.
"*SIGH!* Fine. It's, it's… a virus that originates in the Gloppydrop system. It causes the individual suffering from it to experience symptoms of r-random illnesses, cycling through them like you're on the universe's worst game show. It's had millennia to evolve and adapt more diseases into its fucked up little database, so there's no telling what's going to happen next." Despite how calm Rick was about that explanation, everyone else's expressions quickly turned to varying degrees of horror.
"I'm sorry, but how the hell is that considered a low-level threat?! You have some transforming alien virus that can incorporate any illness, both known and unknown to man! Sure, right now it seems to just be giving you a terrible cold. But what happens if it morphs into space AIDS, or bubonic plague, or some kind of…turning inside out disease?!" Jerry panicked, dropping his golf club.
"Now honey, calm down and let Rick finish explaining. Maybe this really isn't as dire as it sounds." Beth said gently, wrapping an arm around Jerry's shoulders. She then turned back to Rick and sternly switched to, "Seriously, Dad, what the fuck?! I am very worried about you right now, but I'm also pissed because it's sounding more and more like those alarms were, in fact, justified."
"No, you don't get it. This is a mimicking disease. You feel like you have whatever thing it imitates, but you don't actually have that thing. So you can't die from it, even if you have the shitty luck of landing on all the worst spaces of its Wheel of Misfortune. And it l-leaves no lasting effects once you've recovered. So that's why, while it has the potential to be incredibly painful, it's not actually dangerous. Does that make sense now? It better, because I can't dumb it down more than that." Rick explained. Jerry still looked confused and more concerned than the others, but everyone else was visibly less worried now.
"I…guess so. Can we do anything to help?" Beth asked.
"Not really, sweetie. *Cough!* *Cough!* There's no cure, and symptom management changes fast since, you know, the symptoms this virus tricks you into thinking you have do. But it goes without saying I should have something for whatever it throws at me." Rick answered.
"Ok, so if I'm following this and you're not bullshitting us, we don't have to worry about this thing actually killing us, but what does happen if one of us catches it from you, Rick?" Jerry asked.
"*SNIFF!* For fuck's sake, Jerry, weren't you paying any attention?! If you catch it, it'll be the same for you as it is for me – you'll be varying degrees of miserable for 3-10 days, then be perfectly fine. But it's probably a moot point, anyway. Infection with Gloppydropian Mimicking Disease is rare in humans to begin with, and, umm… there's never actually been a recorded case of human-to-human transmission. So before anyone asks again, no you're not in danger, and yes, the alarm was completely unnecessary." Rick explained, growing more irritated by the second. Morty and Summer exchanged a look. Something didn't make sense.
"So, I guess this bug must have a pretty long incubation period, huh? I mean, Gloppydrop? When was the last time we were anywhere near that system?" Morty commented, walking over to Rick. Summer followed, Beth not stopping either of them this time.
"God dammit, Morty, do you not understand what "originates from' means?! The stupid virus comes from Gloppydrop originally, but it's spread across the universe. I could have picked it up practically anywhere." Rick replied crossly.
"Yeah, but you haven't exactly been off-planet much lately. It's been at least a few weeks again, hasn't it? And if this is so rare in humans, it's probably not something you caught going to the corner bar with Dad and Gene." Summer pointed out.
"Christ, what is with all these questions?! Yes, children, Mimicking Disease does happen to have an extended incubation period. I most likely contracted it months ago. That being *COUGH!* said, Earth's not as boring a planet as it used to be these days. Which is cool and all, but one downside is shit like this making its way here. So, while it's unlikely I got it locally, can't rule that out, either. *Achoo!* Are we finally done talking about this?! We've established there's no emergency, and everyone's managed to annoy me more than my illness is. You're all gonna go about your day anywhere but here and let me deal with this now, right?" Rick snapped. There were a few seconds of silence, followed by the rest of the family all yelling at the same time again.
They mostly drowned each other out, but then Summer's voice cut through the noise, saying, "Your detection system must be more broken than you think, Grandpa. I mean, apparently, you've had this alien virus inside of you for a significant amount of time, and it didn't clue you in until you were already hacking up a lung? You do see how that would be an issue if this were something serious, right?"
Rick glared at her, but didn't say anything, prompting Summer to continue, "Also, it was hard to tell with the alarms, but I'm sure I heard it say something about the virus's origin being Earth. Which is a weird thing to say about Gloppydropian Mimicking Disease, don't you think?" She gave her grandfather a challenging look, daring him to argue with her. Everyone else was quiet, eyes locked on the two of them.
"What the hell, Summer? It's stupid early, I'm sick, and do you think anyone's more pissed off by, or aware of, just how broken the stupid detection system is?! Why are you being such a bitch to me?" Rick yelled. Or rather, tried to yell – his throat hurt and he was losing his voice a little.
"Both of you calm down. Dad, don't call Summer a bitch. She's right, and you need to fix that system, like, the second you're feeling better. I can help if you want. Summer, being right doesn't mean you can be a bitch to your grandfather, especially right now." Beth scolded the two of them. Neither Rick nor Summer said anything, as they were now locked in a staring contest. Rick lost when he sneezed again.
"Ugh, I am so over this horseshit already!" he complained, grabbing a handful of tissues and muttering more profanity under his breath.
"Yeah, I bet. It's a good thing you have this crazy transforming disease that should switch things up and give you a whole new set of symptoms… ooh, any minute now, according to this article I found." Summer replied, tapping away at her phone and triumphantly showing Rick the screen.
"Are you seriously *Sniff!* fact-checking me now?! What is your deal today?"
"Yeah, Summer. Don't you think maybe you're being a little harsh? Rick's not feeling well, and…" Morty tried to interject.
"Morty, shush. You can go back to kissing Grandpa's ass after I prove my point."
Rick, meanwhile, had pulled a small notebook out of his pocket, and was now furiously scribbling something in it.
When he finished, he threw the notebook, and his car keys, to/at Summer, saying, "Listen up, I just decided something. Even though the risk of any of you getting infected is low, we're not gonna *Cough!* chance it. For your safety and my sanity, everyone's getting the hell out of my garage now. Sum-Sum! Congratulations! Since you're being so smart and helpful this morning, you get to leave first and go the farthest away. Here's a list of shit I need you to get and places I need you to go."
"What?! Grandpa Rick, you can't be serious. You're gonna send me into space, just because I called your bluff about…" Summer started to object. A large, semi-clear purple bubble engulfed her and hovered her outside to Rick's car.
"Sorry, Summer, can't *Cough!* *COUGH!* hear you. We'll talk when you get back in a day or two! Car, autopilot to Space Walmart. The, the good one, just past Neptune. Do not, under any circumstances, go to the one on Venus, understand?" Rick instructed.
"If you've seen one Space Walmart, you've seen them all, but sure. Whatever you say, Rick." the car agreed sarcastically, flying off with a furious Summer.
"Dad, I'm not trying to second guess you, but are you sure that was necessary?" Beth questioned.
"Beth, sweetie, you should, uhhh, go to work. You're the breadwinner of the house – can't risk you getting *SNIFF!* sick. So yeah. G-go to work." was what she got in response.
"Dad, I don't work for another 5 hours, and I'm in my pajamas, and…" Beth started to object. Her protests were cut off by a large bubble, like the one that had carried Summer off, transporting her out to her car.
"Not cool! You being sick does not make this acceptable behavior!" she yelled as the bubble deposited her in the car, then vanished. Beth looked at the house and thought about trying to go back in, but quickly decided against it.
"Why fight it? There's extra scrubs at work, and it's not like I particularly want to deal with all this." she sighed, driving off.
Back in the garage, Rick was saying, "Dammit, Jerry. You still don't have a job I can send you to to get you out of my hair, huh?"
"Really, Rick? That's all you've got? You are off your game today if you expect that old chestnut to hurt me." Jerry scoffed, picking up his golf club again.
"*COUGH!* I don't have the energy to try and hurt you, Jerry. I just need you to be one less headache for me to deal with. Should've had Summer drop you off at the Jerryboree. It's even on the way! Damn, I really can't think straight right now." Rick griped, rubbing his temples and coughing more. Morty and Jerry were both watching him closely.
"If it helps, I'm, umm, not allowed there at the moment anyway, Rick. For now, I'm only suspended and not banned, but there's this investigation pending, and well…" a slightly embarrassed Jerry informed him.
"Really, Jerry? Was it at least worth it?"
"That's the worst part! No, not at all! It was one quick kiss and a handshake! A limp handshake at that!" Jerry pouted.
"Eww! Dad, why? Why is the whole family like this?! Actually, no. I don't wanna know!" Morty wailed, shaking his head and covering his ears.
Ignoring his son, Jerry continued, "And now I don't know if that me said something because he has regrets, or blames me for how pathetic it was, or if it was some random other me who saw and complained because he was jealous, or judging us, or maybe just a tattletale… It keeps me up at night!"
Rick nodded and said, "Yeah, been there. Shit sucks. You have my sympathies, Jer. Hmmm. I'm out of ideas for what to do with you, so just go be stupid upstairs, okay? Or go spend the day with Gene, or… I don't care. Just *Achoo!* go."
Jerry studied his father-in-law sympathetically. Summer was right – Rick looked bad. His hair was messier than usual, his nose was running, and his eyes were bloodshot. Still sitting on the garage floor, he was starting to shiver, and seemed exhausted.
"Fine, I'm going. But not because you told me to. I have an idea to make you feel better, Rick. I just have a little research to do first." he said smugly as he strode out of the garage, clearly proud of whatever idea he'd just come up with.
"Okay, so we're gonna have to deal with whatever that's about later, too. Cool." Morty sighed, at the same time Rick said, "That's great, Jerry. Can't wait. I'm sure you're gonna win a Nobel Prize or something."
And then it was just the two of them left in the garage.