Rick and Morty (2013–…): Season 5, Episode 4 - Rickdependence Spray - full transcript

Mom! We're gonna miss the movie!

No, we're not.
Okay, but we've been here for hours.

I don't want to hang out
at the stupid horse hospital.

The stupid horse hospital
puts dinner on your table.

It wouldn't kill you to take an interest.

What's this thing?

In the middle of the room
with the hole in the end?

That's a breeding mount.
The nurses use it to collect.

Reproductive material.

Okay, let's go see this
latest piece of Marvel shit

you kids are jizzing over.
Yeah. About time.



So, does your hospital ever need, like,
afterschool volunteers?

Wow. Who are you
and where did you put my son?

Ha! No, no. Seriously.
I'm very interested in your work.

Morty, you dirty little doggy.

Come on!

Hey, Rick.
Oh, hey, kiddo. How's your Saturday?

You know, super chill. What you doing?
Eh, nothing adventurous.

You know that race of Underground
Dwelling Cannibal Horse People

that we're always fighting?
Yeah, the CHUDs. What about them?

Well, don't tell anybody,

but I'm working on a bioweapon
to use against them,

so I got this barrel of horse semen
from your mom's hospital

and I'm just gonna, you know,
subject it to some otherworldly forces.

Guess I should test it, make sure it's--



Make sure it's what?
Horse semen, obviously.

But it says it is right on the barrel!
You're not being very scientific, Morty.

Measure twice, cut once. Especially with semen.

Did you even ask Mom if you could have this?

Morty, if I wanted to steal horse semen, I'd--

Yes, I asked her. What is at stake for you here?

Why don't you trust labels?
All right! Fine! I won't test it!

God damn. Your generation really
picks random hills to die on.

Don't get close. I'm running an inhuman
amount of power through this semen.

Should be safe, though,
since the semen itself is,

you know, also inhuman. Here we go.

What happened?
The sperm, Morty!

They're super monster sperm now!
I blame myself.

Unless there was something
about the sperm I didn't know.

Are you saying that to mess with me?

What? Mess with you how?
Like, trying to get me to say something?

Morty, I have no idea what you're talking about!

For real?
Yes!

Okay. Good. Then. Then it's your fault!

What the hell is going on?
Sweetheart, can you give me a minute?

I'm trying to steer around
the bodies of our neighbors.

Oh, that felt like Gene.

That's on you, Beth.
Dad, I swear--

Mom, it's not Rick's fault, it's--
Space sperm.

What?
Yeah. Space sperm.

I've seen them before, but never like this.

Space sperm? Sperm from space?

Very impressive verbal forensic work, Jerry.

Holy shit. How big are space dicks?

Don't answer that! Damn, they must be huge.

Oh!

Oh, shit, oh, shit, shit!

Mr. Sanchez! The president
is very eager to speak with you!

Morty, look, you gotta do me a solid.

You want me to keep the secret
of where these things came from?

Yes, technically, it's a lie, but I messed up,

and I'm embarrassed because it's,
you know, science.

No problem. I got your back, dawg.
Really? Okay. Cool.

Thanks, Morty. I thought that'd be a harder sell.

You did a shameful thing.

Dwelling on it isn't gonna help,
you know, am I right?

Sometimes you just gotta wipe it off,

toss it in the trash,
and head back to study hall.

Uh, not getting the metaphor
but I'll take your hall pass.

Sanchez! Get the hell in here!

Space sperm? Jesus. How big are space dicks?

Same page club.

Well, Mr. President, the theory of Cosmic DNA

has been around for decades.
Chupacabras, Yeti,

Stonehenge, Ancient Rome.

Are these all myths, monsters, legends,

or different names for sperm from outer space?

I'll tell you what I think, Sanchez.
I think either you caused this,

or it's those godforsaken Horse People
that dwell underground.

CHUDs.
That's them. Ugh, if they're behind this,

so help me, God.

Morty, you've always been a straight shooter.

You can't prove that! Wait, what? Oh, oh, right.

I can protect you, little man.
Blow that whistle. Toot, toot.

Is this your grandpa's fault?

Here's what I know, sir.
This is the greatest country on Earth.

It invented apple pies and lasers.

Mm. Keep talking.
And that sperm.

We don't know nothing about it.

Then the CHUDs just got themselves a war.

And you just dodged a personal drone strike.

Hello! Hello. Sorry, I'm late.

This is Professor Shabooboo,
the world's leading expert on sperm.

Thanks for getting here so fast.
My schedule was wide open.

I have been tracking our new sperm friends
since their arrival.

If my calculations are correct,
they have gathered here.

Why would the sperm go to the Grand Canyon?

Why are you looking at me
like the answer is obvious?

Oh, you can't be serious.
Are we in middle school?

You think sperm are instinctively
heading for America's--

Don't highroad us, lady. It's where they went.

Now, how do we deal with these.
"Orgasogoblins"? No takers?

Okay. These "Cumplestiltskins?" No? Dumb?

These, uh, "Skeet Boogins?"
Oh, yeah, yeah, Skeet Boogins.

Really? Skeet Boogins?

We'll use it as a placeholder and beat it later.
Mr. President, if I may?

Luckily, I was able to secure a specimen.

Now, obviously our first steps
will be to analyze its DNA

and figure out what these beautiful creat--

Oh, why?
It had a gun!

Are you out of your mind
bringing an armed sperm in here?

But they can't hold guns!
The boy literally never lies!

Look, if you want these things gone,
give Rick and me a plane and some nukes.

We'll wipe them out
and leave no trace of them.

Only one way to deal with it.
He's right. I'm a scientist.

Fair enough. Blow them to hell.

What are people gonna do,
complain we made the canyon grander?

Jerry, we're being bad parents. Do something!

Is this water for everyone?
Yes, and I'd love a glass.

Coming up!

What are you doing?

And, Rick, to make sure
you don't screw anything up,

I'm sending my best men with you.

And women.
It's a fine suggestion,

but I doubt their leader will be a sexy
queen that needs to be kickboxed.

One hundred percent male Marines!

They say cutting a sperm's throat
is like running a warm knife through butter.

I'm gonna make these things
pregnant with death!

No fear!
No humility!

Zero chance of consequences!

Hey, gentlemen's bet.

Which of these background Marines
you think will last the longest?

I'm not betting on human lives, Rick.
All of these people are gonna survive,

but obviously that guy the longest.

Yeah, he's my pick, too. What's his name?

Blazen?

Pretty cool.
Yeah. He's meditating through turbulence.

I bet if something fell, he'd like,
catch it without opening his eyes.

Totally.
Should we throw something at him?

I got a pencil somewhere.

Who shooting at us?

Oh, wow, that's unexpected.

The sperm made a catapult?
Are they getting smarter?

No, you're getting dumber
because that's a trebuchet.

Nobody knows the difference!

They're reloading that textbook trebuchet!

Time to fly!

We gotta keep moving.

So cool.
Not even a scratch.

Okay, girls, and I mean that derogatorily,

we just took a fat "L,"
and what we need is a fat "P."

A plan.

I take the lead here. You two watch the flanks.

Blazen, bring up the-Hey!

Please, one person draws the plan. Skeeters!

Jipers!
Ropers!

I'm sorry, but what the hell are we calling them?

Oof.

Fine. I'm dying, so I get to pick the name.

Crispy Cremes with a "C"!

Whoa. Easy there, little guy. It's okay. It's okay.

Do you recognize me?
Do you know you came from me?

I'm Morty. I'll call you "Sticky,"
because you're sticky and you're stuck.

Oh.

Step aside, Morty.
It's okay. You don't gotta do this.

It's haploid genetic code, Morty,
a biological fertilizing machine.

What's gotten into you?
Rick, let him go.

Morty, don't fuck with me.
What the hell's going on with you?

I think I know exactly what's going on here.

Kidding. This shit is totally random.

Let's keep moving.
Which way?

When one sense is bound,
the others are released.

Holy shit. He can smell caves?

I'm not trying to smell anything.
The whole planet's a dorm room trash can.

Sir, Rick Sanchez has gone dark.
I knew we couldn't rely on him!

Well, maybe the pilot got too horny
as they approached America's vagina.

If you're gonna hang out in my war room,
you can't just make snarky comments.

At least do something useful, like Jerry.

Right to the top, just the way you like it.

Here's our situation.

Rick's gone, and so are all our nukes.
Now what?

None of you have an idea?
I do! That's right, me, the girl.

Gentlemen, what do sperm want?

The same thing as a lumberjack in the morning
or a fox at night.

Pants! Pancakes!
Eggs. Eggs!

You want to control giant sperm,
you need a giant egg.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Sperm are hunters. And what do sperm hunt?

Eggs.
Exactly.

And what would happen if we enlarged one?

They'll head right for it!
Get MIT on the phone.

And get this guy a Nobel Prize.

You became a woman today.

So, Blazen, you got kids?
The battlefield is my family.

So cool.
Badass.

Go! I'll hold them off.

Blazen, you don't have to do this.
Shh. It is my destiny.

He's right, Morty.
It's the price of being Blazen.

Let him do his thing.

Blood for blood.

Cream for cream.

Oh, no. I can't reach that.

Idiot!

What? They're comfortable!
You should try them.

That'll do it. I'm worm food.

Morty, find my wife.
Tell her I wasn't wearing her thong.

That's a photocopy of Sports Illustrated
swimsuit model Kathy Ireland.

It's my wife. We have sex.

Here, hold that picture up
so we can have sex one last time.

I know how to suck myself.

What?

Ugh, I was so wrong about this guy.
He didn't even buy us any time.

Morty, get ready for some fireworks.

Uhoh.
Oh, gross!

This is the first time I've ever
regretted being taken alive.

Wait, who the fuck is that?
Silence in the presence of me.

I am the Sperm Queen,

and you are of special interest to me.

Hey, what the fuck are you
doing with my stuff?

And why do you have
the horse jerkoff machine

from my daughter's hospital?
We need it to create our army.

Well, you need more than that,
dummy. You need a horse.

Oh, but our stallion is already here.

Isn't that right, Morty?

Or shall I say Father?

Morty, you nasty, lying,
little worldending pervert.

I'm sorry.

What was it like?
Fantastic!

Rick, I'm sorry!

I just thought maybe
I could have repeated sex

with the horse machine
without it becoming Armageddon.

I realize that's on me.

Yeah, not exactly accepting apologies
while I'm stuck here as Hand job Solo.

This is all your fault
for being ashamed of us, Morty.

How many millions went
to their graves for you,

hurling themselves into the void,

only to discover a grody sock

or a carefully folded
landing strip of toilet paper?

How do you know all this?

Oh, honey, because we're
the very essence of you.

We are your shame incarnate.

And once we're through with you,
our sperm army will take over the world!

Put him on the machine!

Rick, do something!
On it.

What did you do?
I got out of your eyeline.

Oh, no. Oh! Oh!
Yes! The end is near!

Any last words?
Ohh!

Sticky!

Gross. I know you're not a wordsmith,
Morty, but--

No, no, no, my sperm friend is here!

Ugh, never give them a name.

Fools! You can't beat me!
You didn't bring a woman that can kickbox!

Is that all you got?

Damn, that's some quintessential
underdog shit.

Kill them!

Yeah! Whoohoo!

I should've told you the truth, Rick.
Let's save the world first.

Now, reset those nukes,
and let's turn this canyon into a can'tyon.

Are there usually earthquakes in Arizona?

They're heading for Vegas,

which does track on many levels, but why now?

What the--?

Let's hear it
for Professor Shabooboo

and his brilliant egg.
Um, hello?

Aren't you forgetting someone?
Oh, good point.

Big thanks to the cast
of Cirque du Soleil's Zumanity

for the impressive and erotic routine.

Mr. President, Rick Sanchez is on the line.

Good. Put that asshole on speaker.

Well, well, well.

No thanks to you, we're luring the sperm
with a giant human egg.

Even though, symbolically speaking,
Vegas should be enough.

A human egg? Where did you get it?

Glad you asked. It's your granddaughter's,

so at least you contributed
something to this.

Mr. President! It's Morty!
It's my sperm! It's all mine!

What?
I'm a dirty little perverted maniac.

I spent a week pleasuring myself
with animal equipment,

and my sperm got turned
into monsters on accident

because I kept lying about it
because I was ashamed!

You should be!
My God, man, we were all 14 once

but it's called selfcontrol.

Don't let them reach my sister's egg,
Mr. President!

You'll be making a giant--

Incest baby.

What? Who told you that?
What? I was finishing his sentence.

Oh. Right. Come with us.

The sperm is Morty's!

We're about to make a giant incest baby!

Aw, well,
now we're all in our darkest hour.

Launch the egg! Launch it now!

But that'll take 30 minutes.
What? Why?

That's how long every space launch takes!

No one realizes because
they only show you the last 10 seconds!

Uh, uh, help me out here.

Hey, it was your idea, right?

Okay, okay, no need to panic, everyone.

I have a simple solution.

See you all in hell!

I don't see how that's going to help.

Form a perimeter!
Protect that egg at all costs!

I always knew your hormones
would cause a world war

between humans
and Cannibalistic Horse People.

I just didn't know it would be like this.

I can't change my nature.

What are you, a scorpion in a Navajo fable?

Everyone can change their nature, Morty.

It's what defines our species. Look at Iron Man.

That actor was an animal in the '90s,
literally waking up in bushes.

His agent had to catch him with a butterfly net.

Silence! Rick Sanchez,
you know why you're here.

Yeah, it was my grandson's fault.
You slept with my daughter!

I did? Oh, shit, I did.

Forgive me, Your CHUDness.
I'm a changed man, starting now.

You come to the Kingdom of CHUDs
for forgiveness?

CHUDs don't forgive humans.
CHUDs eat humans!

This is out there, even for us.
They can hear you, Morty.

Boil him up! Yum, yum!

Spice him right! Oh, boy!

Eat the flesh! Yum, yum!

Not the bones! Oh, no!

Belly ache! Ouch, Ouch!

Father! Stop this at once!

Princess Poñeta!
You can't kill Rícko!

I-I love him!

Right! I love you, too, Princess Poñeta.

This love is forbidden.
My daughter, you are a CHUD.

Rick is a human and ageinappropriate.

Then you leave me no choice.

By the 17th Article of the CHUDstitution,

I offer Rícko Sanchez horsemunity

and demand a equestritruce
between all CHUDs and humans!

On what grounds?

On the grounds that Rícko
is the father of my child.

I have an heir.

I have a substanceabuse problem.

The Prophecy has come true!

Also, did someone drop a scroll?

Here we go. Over here. Sorry.

Where did you get all that?
It's Vegas.

The Strip has been evacuated.

I'm worried
we won't be able to hold the perimeter.

Then deputize Las Vegas regulars.
Everyone's a patriot today.

Even me!

Take three steps back, Amazing Johnathan.

Men and their guns. Metaphorical and not.
Tell me about it.

Get ready, boys! The last thing this world needs

is a giant incest baby.

Oorah! Here they come!
Nice!

Do not let a single sperm
get through to that egg!

Um, should we be concerned
about that scary bombladen one?

Honey, let the men handle this.

I think we know a thing or two about--

Ugh! Ready for all the responsibility
with none of the credit?

Let's Nancy Reagan this bitch.

Ah!

Damn it! We can't stop them.
We don't have the manpower.

What about horsepower?

Sweet Lady Liberty.

That sonofamare Rick has ended
our centurieslong war with the CHUDs.

We made peace with the CHUDs!
The CHUDs are our buds!

Rícko! The hoof less, they need us!
Let's do this.

CHUDily dudily, ho, ho, ho!
CHUDily dudily, ho, ho, ho!

Mom, I promise to use condoms,
even when it's butt stuff.

Okay, we have a lot to talk about tonight.

Is this your heart?
It's a play on, "Is this your card?"

You don't have a heart, but this is
probably some kind of organelle,

in charge of pumping endoplasmic reticulum
throughout your membrane and therefore,

relative to you, functions as a heart.

So, I ask you again, is this your heart?

Morty, look!

I won't just be thrown away, Rick!
The egg is mine!

Sticky! It's all you, bud!

No!

Sticky!

Fuck!

We got a heartbeat.
Screw that!

That's a human life,
and this is an election cycle.

You have to do something!
Nope.

It's space's problem now.

Oh, this sucks.

You're Sports Illustrated's Kathy Ireland.

You were with my husband,
Blazen, when he died.

Please tell me. Was he wearing my thong?

He probably told you not to tell me.

He was ashamed of it, but he didn't need to be.

I hope he was wearing it.

Always be honest.

Sometimes it will hurt people.

Sometimes it will help. But always be honest.

Huh. Yeah, yeah, he was wearing it.

Ew! That gross animal pig!

So, trying to boil this all down,

I want to say it's import--
Shut up, Morty, I got my own epilogue.

Oh, Rícko, I love you.

Prove it.

Oh, I love kissing those big old horse teeth.

It's like licking tile.

Oh!
I swear.

It's time someone made an honest man
out of me.

Whatever you need, the whole nine yards,
you got it.

The thing is, Rícko. It's time.

Oh, shit, oh, shit. It's time!

Oh, my God, it's wonderful.

Oh, wow. So we don't have to,
you know, raise it?

Nah. They're ready to go
right out of the box.

Cool, cool. So, bye?

Yep. Take care of yourself, Rick.

Yep. Same.

That was easy.

Houston, permission to open
the starboard panel.

Permission granted.

Firing breach now.

Explorer, our readouts show a pressure spike.

Everything all right?

Honestly, sometimes staring back at Earth

makes me think about the people I left behind.

My wife, the son she had to anchor me there.

I tried to be a parent, I really did,

but I've come to find I'm only
suited to be a spaceman.

The nicest part of being up here
is there are no reminders of the guilt

I sometimes feel about
abandoning my family.

Sorry, Houston, I thought I heard something.

Negative on our end.

No, wait, there's something big
and it's coming right at you!

Dear God. No! You can't be real!

Explorer, what is it? What the hell do you see?

My conscience.

Explorer! Explorer! Are you there?

Geez. Not gonna miss that guy.
Right? So dramatic.