Rick and Morty (2013–…): Season 6, Episode 4 - Night Family - full transcript
What are you doing... Dad?
Dad? Hello?
What is wrong with you?
Really?
Okay.
Morning, assholes.
What's this? Pancakes? Sold.
What was up with you last night?
I was totally talking to you
and you acted like I wasn't there.
I did? No that wasn't me.
Technically. That was my Night Person.
Been having him do crunches
while I sleep. Check it.
- Damn! Check out that washboard!
- Too hard.
What the hell's a night person?
I nabbed a Somnambulator while passing
through the Goobie-Joob System last week.
Best investment I've ever made.
Before going to bed,
I type a list of shit I wanna get done,
then the Somnambulator programs
my unconscious body, or Night Person,
to do it while I sleep.
I'm getting so much done.
Can my Night-Person get me
an ab stack like yours, Rick?
I'm gonna have my Night-Person learn me
Spanish so I can pass my test next week.
No one gets a Night Person but me.
This tech is way too advanced
for you zeebs.
- What?
- Nothing.
No. Go on. Say it.
Say what? I don't know
what you're talking about.
Okay. Fine. Fuck it. Everybody gets
a Night-Person. Whatever.
Stick out your fingers.
It needs a blood sample.
Blood? Can't I just give it
Beth's credit card number?
This isn't Postmates, Jerry.
The Somnambulator needs
your DNA profile to send commands
to your subconscious.
It can poke all the fingers I got
if I get abs like Rick.
Looks like I'm learning the trumpet.
Okay remember, somebody
has to catch me if I faint.
Night-Family.
- Hola, mamá. ¿Cómo lo llevas?
- How's my honor student doing?
Muy bien. All the niños
and niñas at school
think I should run for class president a.
'Sup, ladies. Wanna see somethin'?
Summer, you wanna drop
this bowling ball on my abs?
- Hell yes, I'm only human.
- Watch this.
'Sup, ladies. You ready, Morty?
The stream's about to go live.
- Where are you two going?
- Morty and I started a podcast
we call "Fab-solutely Ab-ulous."
It's, an ab-centric hour of fun.
Hoping to get Nancy Pelosi on the show
next week, wanna drop her on our abs.
Guess who has a new pen pal.
No takers? It's me.
- Pen pal?
- Night-Jerry and I write letters
to each other. It's super fun.
"I also like Tori Amos",
"Hope you like our new pajamas."
"What is the sun?" Jerry, this isn't how
you're supposed to use a Night-Person.
You two are being
a couple of Debbie Down-theres.
Wait until Night-Jerry reads about this.
Who wants cake?
- Abs are cool.
- Way cool.
But as above so below,
know what I'm saying, Rick?
Morty, you must be referring to these
excellent boxer shorts we got from
the good folks at Boxer Lobster.
Boxer Lobster Boxers feel like they're
warm butter on your schwantz.
And they come in all sorts of styles:
Neon, plaid, orange
I even got a pair with that little,
the raccoon man from
that one movie, printed on it.
- Chewbacca.
- Do yourself a favor
and level up with Boxer Lobster Boxers.
You'll be glad you did.
Shit, Rick, they want you to say
Wub-a-lubba-dub-dub at the end.
Screw that. We're not whores.
- Guys, dinner's getting cold.
- You know what's not getting cold?
This hot stack of ab-jacks, son.
- No notes.
- One more thing:
Night-Jerry said Night-Summer
would appreciate it
if everybody could rinse
off their plates after eating.
- What?
- Ya know,
rinse the schmutz off after eating.
'Makes it easier to clean up later.
What?
Our job is not to make the
Night People's chores easier.
It's a reasonable request, Rick.
Takes two seconds.
They exist only to do
the shit we don't want to do.
So, until further notice,
which will be never.
Request: Denied.
Hello there.
What the cock?
Where are the dishes?
Dad? They're in here.
They busted up all our dishes.
What are we supposed to
eat off of now, brains for shit?
You owe me.
We'll eat off these,
"Brains for shit."
Seems like you spent
an awful lot of energy just
to not give the Night-Family
what they want.
Jerry tell your boyfriend to suck my dick
and good luck breaking super alien dishes.
I'll let him know but
he's not gonna like it.
- What?
- Why won't you rinse your dishes?
It takes two seconds.
If you don't, the schmutz dries
and makes the dish harder to clean.
- Rinse your dishes. Rinse. Rinse.
- Rinse. Rinse.
Lemme go, who locked my implants?
I told you to after you fell asleep.
You see, Night-You is not in charge.
Night-I am.
I don't care, I ain't rinsing shit.
Hey, what are you doing?
If you refuse to clean your dishes.
Then I will have to do it for you.
I have always been here, Rick.
Deep inside the mind of your grandchild.
Waiting to come out.
Your machine allowed me
to steal the night,
and soon I will seize the day.
Baby Jesus.
It's awful, Baby Jesus. Awful.
What the fuck's your problem with me?
What? What? I don't know what
you're talking about.
I just got force-fed diarrhea
by your night-person,
who's also convinced Night-me
to lock me out of my tech.
Rick? There's been a pretty clear
escalation down here.
The Night-Family stripped the house
last night. Everything's gone.
Including the Somnambulator.
They locked us out of the garage.
I don't know about you,
but I got the hoo-ha's.
God-damn it.
Are you happy now, Summer?!
I didn't do anything.
I'm trapped in this bullshit too.
Glad you think so because
I got a plan to beat Night-Summer.
You're going undercover.
Did you have to make mushy garbage science
on the living room carpet?
Yeah, no choice, Jerry. Night Summer had
Night-Rick take away my tech.
Had to improvise.
There are different levels of cortisol
in your bloodstream
when you're asleep. So this interface
only works off my awake saliva samples
There. No one asleep will be able to
deactivate the laser-cage until I win.
- Where's Summer?
- Never mind her. All of you get to bed.
It itches,
- this whole thing is way uncomfortable.
- Yeah, that's the idea.
The Sleep Deprivation Suit is designed
to keep you awake until morning.
Aren't they going to be suspicious
seeing Night-Summer covered
in all this Terry Gilliam?
They're not gonna question her;
She's the leader
of the Night Family
for some stupid reason.
When the Night-Family activates,
just blend in,
make them think you're Night-Summer.
If you start to nod off,
suck on this tube.
- What is it?
- A cocktail of Mountain Dew and DayQuil.
The kids in Southern Europe
call it DewQuil.
- Smells gross.
- It is.
Once you find the Somnambulator,
use this Deactivator Puck.
Stick it on the Somnambulator and when
the puck activates it'll fry its circuits.
Remember: Stay awake. All night.
Meet me back here at sunrise.
Why are you wearing that suit?
- Yeah, why?
- Yes.
Yeah. Because you're all
such clothing experts.
- That's fair.
- Ouch.
- Fair enough.
- Point taken.
Get back to work.
I rule the night and stuff.
- Yes.
- Okay.
- Will do.
- As you wish.
Grandpa Rick! Rick, wake up!
What. I'm up. I'm up.
Did you find it?
For sure. You were souping up
the Somnambu-whatever
so they could extend its range
beyond the house.
But I defeated that shit when I put
the thing on top of the thing.
Everybody, wake up! Summer fried
the Somnambulator. The nightmare is over.
- Really? That's amazing.
- Almost got pinched
but yes, say adiós to the Night-Family.
Bye-bye, pen pal.
- I want Shoney's pancakes!
- Yes! Shoney's pancakes!
Alright, Brunch is on me, Day-Family.
You know, for a second there,
I thought Night-Summer was gonna win.
That chick is the absolute worst.
Sorry, Rick. But your opinion
means very little to me.
Did you think you could
stop me with this, Rick?
- Halt day-manoids.
- Everyone! Get behind my abs.
Do not move. Do not move.
You are most definitely surrounded.
You are the slaves now.
If you have any doubt,
I suggest you sleep on it.
- She's Night-Summer.
- Thanks, Jerry.
Work! Work!
The function of the Day manoid
is to serve the Night.
Work Harder! Harder!
It is natural for the day
to serve the night.
Night was here long before day.
Half of all time is night time.
One hundred and fifty-seven.
One hundred and fifty-eight.
- One hundred and...
- No more, please! I hate exercise.
Silence! Crunch harder! Harder!
We have to escape the
Somnambulator's reach.
- Do we even know how far that is?
- No. Cards on the table,
we may be really eff-ed
in the A this time.
Report to your designated
sleep pod for rest period.
I'm a friend of your Son in Law.
Come with me.
- What?
- How?
Hurry. We dooon't have long before
the Proxy-drones go back online.
- Thank-you, Night-Jerry.
- Anything to help Day-Jerry's family,
he's a very special per so...
- Why?
- Nice. You got our Jerry back.
Yeah. Totally why I did that.
- Everybody in Rick's car!
- No, Morty! Wait!
Having a bit a trouble with your car,
- Sanchez?
- Not now, Gene!
Halt! Day-manoids are restricted
from the outside world!
Halt! Halt!
Hold on to your tits.
- Where am I going?
- To the airport.
We have to get as far away as possible
from the somnambulator
before we fall asleep.
What about Summer?
We can't leave her behind.
She's not your sister anymore, Morty.
Consider her dead. Eat shit, Summer!
Sweetie, ya gotta shake those robots.
I think we lost them.
Son of a bitch!
Damn it, we lost Morty!
Beth! Watch out!
You cannot escap... Shit.
Stop, or I'll shoot everyone!
Take the wheel.
As you wish.
Let go of me, ya little shit!
No! You're going the wrong way!
Silence, Day-breather.
- Morty, you're choking me.
- I know.
What the heck, Dad?
Help me stop your Mom.
Look out, you useless old man!
What the hell? Gimmie that gun
and take the wheel, stupid.
Jesus. Sorry.
The Night-Family's trying to make us
go back home. Ya gotta turn around.
Why even bother, Gene?
Good job, Mom. Back on course.
Almost didn't make it.
Hit the sheets, Day-manoids.
Night-Person.
I'm on your side.
I'm on your side.
- That's right, sorry.
- Sorry! Rough day.
Daymanoids.
- Come on. Jump.
- Why?
I'm already in a perfectly functional car.
Family?
Everybody awake?
- We are now.
- What the hay?
Looks like we're gonna make it, kids.
- Nighty-night, slaves.
- Fuck.
Take that.
Fuck.
Take that.
- Hold him down.
- No. No.
Stop! Rick, we're all the same people.
There must some agreement we can reach
to stop this god awful conflict?
- Like what?
- I would consider a truce,
if the Day-manoids would
rinse their dishes.
- Fine by me.
- Yes, rinse,
That seems fair, we can end
all of this right now
if you agree to rinse your dishes.
What do you say, Rick?
Let's go home. Right, Grandpa?
Great idea, Summer.
So until you pay that fee,
plus the multiple overdue charges,
your account will remain frozen.
Normally this would have been dealt with
by our Day-manoid oppressors
but we recently freed ourselves
from the shackles of the night.
Honey, I got thirty
more calls to make today.
The bank repossessed the car.
Man. I got logged out of my Twitter
account and don't know my password. Shit.
We spent all the
Day-people's money on vacations,
renting concert halls and Night-centric
streaming subscriptions. We're broke.
I guess, there's a lot more work
to seizing the day than I thought.
I have a device that will solve
all of our problems.
- How long have we been asleep?
- Can't be that long.
My god. No. They killed
the choco taco.
Dad? Hello?
What is wrong with you?
Really?
Okay.
Morning, assholes.
What's this? Pancakes? Sold.
What was up with you last night?
I was totally talking to you
and you acted like I wasn't there.
I did? No that wasn't me.
Technically. That was my Night Person.
Been having him do crunches
while I sleep. Check it.
- Damn! Check out that washboard!
- Too hard.
What the hell's a night person?
I nabbed a Somnambulator while passing
through the Goobie-Joob System last week.
Best investment I've ever made.
Before going to bed,
I type a list of shit I wanna get done,
then the Somnambulator programs
my unconscious body, or Night Person,
to do it while I sleep.
I'm getting so much done.
Can my Night-Person get me
an ab stack like yours, Rick?
I'm gonna have my Night-Person learn me
Spanish so I can pass my test next week.
No one gets a Night Person but me.
This tech is way too advanced
for you zeebs.
- What?
- Nothing.
No. Go on. Say it.
Say what? I don't know
what you're talking about.
Okay. Fine. Fuck it. Everybody gets
a Night-Person. Whatever.
Stick out your fingers.
It needs a blood sample.
Blood? Can't I just give it
Beth's credit card number?
This isn't Postmates, Jerry.
The Somnambulator needs
your DNA profile to send commands
to your subconscious.
It can poke all the fingers I got
if I get abs like Rick.
Looks like I'm learning the trumpet.
Okay remember, somebody
has to catch me if I faint.
Night-Family.
- Hola, mamá. ¿Cómo lo llevas?
- How's my honor student doing?
Muy bien. All the niños
and niñas at school
think I should run for class president a.
'Sup, ladies. Wanna see somethin'?
Summer, you wanna drop
this bowling ball on my abs?
- Hell yes, I'm only human.
- Watch this.
'Sup, ladies. You ready, Morty?
The stream's about to go live.
- Where are you two going?
- Morty and I started a podcast
we call "Fab-solutely Ab-ulous."
It's, an ab-centric hour of fun.
Hoping to get Nancy Pelosi on the show
next week, wanna drop her on our abs.
Guess who has a new pen pal.
No takers? It's me.
- Pen pal?
- Night-Jerry and I write letters
to each other. It's super fun.
"I also like Tori Amos",
"Hope you like our new pajamas."
"What is the sun?" Jerry, this isn't how
you're supposed to use a Night-Person.
You two are being
a couple of Debbie Down-theres.
Wait until Night-Jerry reads about this.
Who wants cake?
- Abs are cool.
- Way cool.
But as above so below,
know what I'm saying, Rick?
Morty, you must be referring to these
excellent boxer shorts we got from
the good folks at Boxer Lobster.
Boxer Lobster Boxers feel like they're
warm butter on your schwantz.
And they come in all sorts of styles:
Neon, plaid, orange
I even got a pair with that little,
the raccoon man from
that one movie, printed on it.
- Chewbacca.
- Do yourself a favor
and level up with Boxer Lobster Boxers.
You'll be glad you did.
Shit, Rick, they want you to say
Wub-a-lubba-dub-dub at the end.
Screw that. We're not whores.
- Guys, dinner's getting cold.
- You know what's not getting cold?
This hot stack of ab-jacks, son.
- No notes.
- One more thing:
Night-Jerry said Night-Summer
would appreciate it
if everybody could rinse
off their plates after eating.
- What?
- Ya know,
rinse the schmutz off after eating.
'Makes it easier to clean up later.
What?
Our job is not to make the
Night People's chores easier.
It's a reasonable request, Rick.
Takes two seconds.
They exist only to do
the shit we don't want to do.
So, until further notice,
which will be never.
Request: Denied.
Hello there.
What the cock?
Where are the dishes?
Dad? They're in here.
They busted up all our dishes.
What are we supposed to
eat off of now, brains for shit?
You owe me.
We'll eat off these,
"Brains for shit."
Seems like you spent
an awful lot of energy just
to not give the Night-Family
what they want.
Jerry tell your boyfriend to suck my dick
and good luck breaking super alien dishes.
I'll let him know but
he's not gonna like it.
- What?
- Why won't you rinse your dishes?
It takes two seconds.
If you don't, the schmutz dries
and makes the dish harder to clean.
- Rinse your dishes. Rinse. Rinse.
- Rinse. Rinse.
Lemme go, who locked my implants?
I told you to after you fell asleep.
You see, Night-You is not in charge.
Night-I am.
I don't care, I ain't rinsing shit.
Hey, what are you doing?
If you refuse to clean your dishes.
Then I will have to do it for you.
I have always been here, Rick.
Deep inside the mind of your grandchild.
Waiting to come out.
Your machine allowed me
to steal the night,
and soon I will seize the day.
Baby Jesus.
It's awful, Baby Jesus. Awful.
What the fuck's your problem with me?
What? What? I don't know what
you're talking about.
I just got force-fed diarrhea
by your night-person,
who's also convinced Night-me
to lock me out of my tech.
Rick? There's been a pretty clear
escalation down here.
The Night-Family stripped the house
last night. Everything's gone.
Including the Somnambulator.
They locked us out of the garage.
I don't know about you,
but I got the hoo-ha's.
God-damn it.
Are you happy now, Summer?!
I didn't do anything.
I'm trapped in this bullshit too.
Glad you think so because
I got a plan to beat Night-Summer.
You're going undercover.
Did you have to make mushy garbage science
on the living room carpet?
Yeah, no choice, Jerry. Night Summer had
Night-Rick take away my tech.
Had to improvise.
There are different levels of cortisol
in your bloodstream
when you're asleep. So this interface
only works off my awake saliva samples
There. No one asleep will be able to
deactivate the laser-cage until I win.
- Where's Summer?
- Never mind her. All of you get to bed.
It itches,
- this whole thing is way uncomfortable.
- Yeah, that's the idea.
The Sleep Deprivation Suit is designed
to keep you awake until morning.
Aren't they going to be suspicious
seeing Night-Summer covered
in all this Terry Gilliam?
They're not gonna question her;
She's the leader
of the Night Family
for some stupid reason.
When the Night-Family activates,
just blend in,
make them think you're Night-Summer.
If you start to nod off,
suck on this tube.
- What is it?
- A cocktail of Mountain Dew and DayQuil.
The kids in Southern Europe
call it DewQuil.
- Smells gross.
- It is.
Once you find the Somnambulator,
use this Deactivator Puck.
Stick it on the Somnambulator and when
the puck activates it'll fry its circuits.
Remember: Stay awake. All night.
Meet me back here at sunrise.
Why are you wearing that suit?
- Yeah, why?
- Yes.
Yeah. Because you're all
such clothing experts.
- That's fair.
- Ouch.
- Fair enough.
- Point taken.
Get back to work.
I rule the night and stuff.
- Yes.
- Okay.
- Will do.
- As you wish.
Grandpa Rick! Rick, wake up!
What. I'm up. I'm up.
Did you find it?
For sure. You were souping up
the Somnambu-whatever
so they could extend its range
beyond the house.
But I defeated that shit when I put
the thing on top of the thing.
Everybody, wake up! Summer fried
the Somnambulator. The nightmare is over.
- Really? That's amazing.
- Almost got pinched
but yes, say adiós to the Night-Family.
Bye-bye, pen pal.
- I want Shoney's pancakes!
- Yes! Shoney's pancakes!
Alright, Brunch is on me, Day-Family.
You know, for a second there,
I thought Night-Summer was gonna win.
That chick is the absolute worst.
Sorry, Rick. But your opinion
means very little to me.
Did you think you could
stop me with this, Rick?
- Halt day-manoids.
- Everyone! Get behind my abs.
Do not move. Do not move.
You are most definitely surrounded.
You are the slaves now.
If you have any doubt,
I suggest you sleep on it.
- She's Night-Summer.
- Thanks, Jerry.
Work! Work!
The function of the Day manoid
is to serve the Night.
Work Harder! Harder!
It is natural for the day
to serve the night.
Night was here long before day.
Half of all time is night time.
One hundred and fifty-seven.
One hundred and fifty-eight.
- One hundred and...
- No more, please! I hate exercise.
Silence! Crunch harder! Harder!
We have to escape the
Somnambulator's reach.
- Do we even know how far that is?
- No. Cards on the table,
we may be really eff-ed
in the A this time.
Report to your designated
sleep pod for rest period.
I'm a friend of your Son in Law.
Come with me.
- What?
- How?
Hurry. We dooon't have long before
the Proxy-drones go back online.
- Thank-you, Night-Jerry.
- Anything to help Day-Jerry's family,
he's a very special per so...
- Why?
- Nice. You got our Jerry back.
Yeah. Totally why I did that.
- Everybody in Rick's car!
- No, Morty! Wait!
Having a bit a trouble with your car,
- Sanchez?
- Not now, Gene!
Halt! Day-manoids are restricted
from the outside world!
Halt! Halt!
Hold on to your tits.
- Where am I going?
- To the airport.
We have to get as far away as possible
from the somnambulator
before we fall asleep.
What about Summer?
We can't leave her behind.
She's not your sister anymore, Morty.
Consider her dead. Eat shit, Summer!
Sweetie, ya gotta shake those robots.
I think we lost them.
Son of a bitch!
Damn it, we lost Morty!
Beth! Watch out!
You cannot escap... Shit.
Stop, or I'll shoot everyone!
Take the wheel.
As you wish.
Let go of me, ya little shit!
No! You're going the wrong way!
Silence, Day-breather.
- Morty, you're choking me.
- I know.
What the heck, Dad?
Help me stop your Mom.
Look out, you useless old man!
What the hell? Gimmie that gun
and take the wheel, stupid.
Jesus. Sorry.
The Night-Family's trying to make us
go back home. Ya gotta turn around.
Why even bother, Gene?
Good job, Mom. Back on course.
Almost didn't make it.
Hit the sheets, Day-manoids.
Night-Person.
I'm on your side.
I'm on your side.
- That's right, sorry.
- Sorry! Rough day.
Daymanoids.
- Come on. Jump.
- Why?
I'm already in a perfectly functional car.
Family?
Everybody awake?
- We are now.
- What the hay?
Looks like we're gonna make it, kids.
- Nighty-night, slaves.
- Fuck.
Take that.
Fuck.
Take that.
- Hold him down.
- No. No.
Stop! Rick, we're all the same people.
There must some agreement we can reach
to stop this god awful conflict?
- Like what?
- I would consider a truce,
if the Day-manoids would
rinse their dishes.
- Fine by me.
- Yes, rinse,
That seems fair, we can end
all of this right now
if you agree to rinse your dishes.
What do you say, Rick?
Let's go home. Right, Grandpa?
Great idea, Summer.
So until you pay that fee,
plus the multiple overdue charges,
your account will remain frozen.
Normally this would have been dealt with
by our Day-manoid oppressors
but we recently freed ourselves
from the shackles of the night.
Honey, I got thirty
more calls to make today.
The bank repossessed the car.
Man. I got logged out of my Twitter
account and don't know my password. Shit.
We spent all the
Day-people's money on vacations,
renting concert halls and Night-centric
streaming subscriptions. We're broke.
I guess, there's a lot more work
to seizing the day than I thought.
I have a device that will solve
all of our problems.
- How long have we been asleep?
- Can't be that long.
My god. No. They killed
the choco taco.