07x04 - That's Amorte

[bunniefuu]

Who's ready for Rick's
famous spaghetti?!

I love Spaghetti Thursdays!

Oh, my God, Rick, i-it's
like it's better every time!

Hell yeah, you like that?!

That's-a some good spaghetti!

Grandpa Rick, I'm skull emoji but words.

Sauce? More sauce?
Oh, we gots the sauce!

Dad, you... you had a
job interview, right?

Bombed it!

But it's nothing a little
Bolognese won't cure!

Dad, this noodle is sooo tender.

A little spicy! A little sweet!

A little spicy! A little sweet!

It's so nice that we're
talking, you know,

all... all... all talking

because we're a family and everything,

and this a good time we're having.

- Is there any more?!
- Seconds? Thirds?

We spa-gots as much as you can spag-eat!

Rick, I-I got to know, like,

wh-what's the secret ingredient...

God, no! Why? Why? No!

Why is it always this sh*t with you?!

O-Of course it's a person!

Rick, why couldn't it just be spaghetti?

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

RICK: I'm just going to say
this as simply as possible

and let you not believe me...

on this planet, people that k*ll
themselves turn into spaghetti.

- What?
- I know, you're a visual learner,

so follow me.

Oh, hi, Doctor Hotpenis.

You're not supposed to bring patients...

Hi, Michael. It's okay.

This alien boy has space cancer,

and his dying wish is
to see deader people

- so he can feel superior.
- All you had to say.

Check it out. m*rder*d.

Oh, gross!

- Car crash.
- Oh!

And su1c1de.

Ugh, Rick, I don't...

Wait, what is that smell?

You know God damn well what it is, baby.

- Get in here.
- Oh, don't do that!

You've been doing it for weeks
every spaghetti night!

Come on, Morty. Choo choo plane!

- Gross!
- Come on!

God damn!

- Telling you!
- Why?! How?!

Their cortisol increases
the starch content

in their bloodstream,
changing their intestines

into one long spaghetti noodle,

and the surrounding tissues
into a spicy-sweet hematoma

that we would call a Bolognese.

But it takes a lot of cortisol...

like a suicidal amount.

I-It's almost better cold!

Wouldn't go that far,
don't be a hipster.

Excuse me. Are you two eating a corpse?

It's okay! I-It's spaghetti.

Morty, they don't know what that is.

I'm calling the police!

- Before you do that, just...
- No, Rick, stop...

What?! Where am I?

- In a morgue, eating bodies!
- We're what?!

- Stop using that thing!
- What thing? Who are we?

- We were just leaving.
- All you had to say!

Whose car is this?
Whose sun visor is this?

What's a sun?

Jesus, sorry, that's
always embarrassing.

But you see what I mean now?
Best spaghetti in the galaxy

and it's % guilt-free.

- I wanna know their names.
- Who?

Michael? Coroner Number One?

The people we've been eating
every spaghetti night!

Do you even know their names?

I'm not giving you your
spaghettises' names!

You've found my line, Morty!
I-I find that ghoulish!

I-I want their names
o-or I'm telling Mom

and no more spaghetti night!

You suck! Where's the thing?

- Where's the "Men in Black" thing?
- Names!

And if you know the f*ckin' names

of your spaghettis, that's it?

- This is done?
- It's all I ask!

You won't get overwhelmed
with even more guilt

and then demand to go
to their f*ckin' funeral?

Just their names and then I'm done.

I promise.

I f*cking hate you.

I just want to pay my respects!

The only reason you're still alive

is because you don't turn
delicious when you die.

Thank you for that moment of silence.

I'd like to open it up
to the congregation,

if anyone would like to say a
few words about Lawrence.

[COUGHS]

Or... another moment of silence.

Geez, no wonder he k*lled himself.

Okay, let's...

Oh, for...

Hi. Um...

I just want to be honest
about something.

After Lawrence d*ed,

we, uh, ate him.

- [GASPING, MURMURING]
- Wait, we're not...

werewolves or... or anything,
we... we come from a planet,

where, to us, when you
guys k*ll yourselves,

you turn into what my
planet considers food.

Spaghetti. It brought us together.

Lawrence brought us together.

It just felt wrong not
having anyone know that.

But he was delicious.

I-I hope that helps make it right.

That should do it, buddy.

Everybody enjoy your closure.

So we were eating... people.

I-I'm afraid so.

They were so... spaghettiesque.

Yes, they were.

It's going to be... hard to...

Hard to put out of your mind, yes,

which is why I thought it best
to keep you all in the dark.

So... Morty ruined spaghetti night.

- Correct.
- Summer! It was people!

It was people, Summer.

Which is disgusting.

And not cool to lie about.

Correct.

But it should also be noted, to Morty,

that it's not cool to tattle.

- Dad!
- They were delicious!

- So keep eating them!
- We can't now!

Because of you!

Sorry, [CLEARS THROAT] Morty.

That was terrible parenting.

You did the "right" thing.

We are technically very happy
to be better informed.

First octopus, now this.

Have... Have we thought
about just giving up

and joining the fascist
half of the country?

- ALL: No!
- Just saying, they get to do more.

Well, I guess I'll go to my room
since everyone hates me now.

Oh. Sorry.

ALL: Good night, Morty.

Hey, big boy. Are you depressed?

Oooooh, Mama likes depression.

Oopsie, I spilled my milk.

Now, we're both sad.

- I'm a bad family therapist farm girl.
- [KNOCK ON WINDOW]

SPACE SHIP: Hello, Morty Smith.

You are invited to -Kepler B.

You know it as Spaghetti Planet.

You're not in trouble.

We just want to talk.

Can that thing support my weight?

It should.

Uh, o-okay...

um... up here?

Oh, uh, geez.

Ever heard of a ramp?

- This is a ramp.
- Uh-huh.

Hi, Morty, I'm the
president of this planet.

I saw the video of you at that funeral.

- I'm sorry.
- Don't be.

It was quite the... revelation.

Uh, would you... mind... showing us?

Uh, this is the... "spaghetti"

of a person that took their own life.

They did consent to be eaten.

Uh, okay.

[GAGS]

[RETCHES]

[SLURPING]

Wow, yeah, a-amazing as always.

N-Not gonna lie.

And would you consider
yourself a typical Earthian?

Well, on Earth, it's considered
inferior to be typical,

so we're all very special and different,

but we definitely all do like spaghetti.

- All... eight billion of you?
- Oooh.

Morty, how would you feel
about being a kind of...

- ambassador?
- A liaison between our worlds.

Oh. Now hold on.

I-I went to that funeral because...

Because you felt bad.

Because you didn't have permission.

Show him.

My name is Tanya Radcliffe.

I've been living in pain for years,

I've lost all my loved ones,

I've got nothing.

So when doctors told me I could
finally have the "right to die"

if I agree to be dinner
for some alien boy,

I simply said, "I hope I'm delicious."

God damn.

Mm, and would you say that
makes it taste better?

It makes it go down a lot easier.

Oh, I like that.

Maybe it's time we allow
some people the right to die

and be delicious.

Please feel free to finish Tanya.

It is what she wanted.

No. No, I-I-I think I'm good.

Thanks.

Tanya, you really were tasty.

Actually, can I take her to go?

Who's ready for more ethical spaghetti?!

Me! I love this ethical sh*t!

Full admission, I was fine before too!

God, this is so good!

- Pass the parmeesian!
- Where's Dad?

Why does he keep
missing spaghetti night?

I guess he got butthurt
because Morty high-roaded him

and got us the delicious spaghetti

without all the lies and nihilism.

And another cheer for the
added bonus of no Rick...

Boom. Sorry to interrupt

Morty's perfect spaghetti night,

but thought he'd wanna see this.

Whoa, what the f*ck is that?!

"Morty-O's su1c1de
Spaghetti is % ethical,

single-origin pasta."

Oh, dear God.

Lemme guess, you went
back to the planet,

gave some thoughtful
insight to their leader,

and now they're selling their
dead at every Space Walmart.

I-I did, but I didn't say to do this!

Is this people, or not people?

I-I just need to know how much
I should pretend to be upset.

This seems to be Roger.

Hi. I'm Roger Wayne Marder.

I was a serial k*ller and cannibal,

and now I get to k*ll myself
and be food for you,

which I suppose is a silver
lining to all my misdeeds.

Anyway, please enjoy me.

So "yes" to people?

Wow. I-I mean, on the bright side,

I-I feel like one could look at this

as a really nice epilogue t-to
a story about telling the truth.

Uh-huh, care to see that epilogue?

[HORNS HONKING]

What is all this?

Cans of spaghetti selling out
to every neighbouring planet.

Wanna go see how ethical
it is down there?

This is Spaghetti Planet? What happened?

You happened.

You happened all over those billboards.

- Oh, geez, oh, no.
- _

See that? They call that bridge
"The Most Scenic Jump."

There used to be safety rails.

They melted them down for
giant spaghetti strainers.

You wanna turn on the radio?

I get it, it's all Enya.

Nope, all morning zoo teams.

Just patter. No songs.

Oh, and for TV?

Wall-to-wall reality television,
but not the good kind.

It's like their whole planet
was bought by Discovery.

Jesus Christ, this is depressing.

That's definitely what
they're going for.

Look at this sh*t.

They dyed their sun institutional gray.

That's not easy, kind of impressed.

And all of it is thanks to...

Oh, God.

I'm a m*rder*r.

Oh, no, Morty.

What you did was much more indirect.

I understand your concerns,
but look around.

With what's coming in from
intergalactic spaghetti trade,

we've decreased our debt,
are making a lot of money.

We've got clean energy.

That space where you paused

is where you should have
said "mental healthcare."

All right, we had to put our
fingers on the scale, a little.

But if we stop this,
the supply chain crumbles

and kills the global economy.

How many people will suffer then?

Okay, tough problem,
definitely a spicy meat-a-ball.

Bu-Bu-But we can fix it. Right, Rick?

You mean me. You want me to fix it.

Uh, a moment?

Yes, I want you to fix it. None
of this would have happened

if you'd been honest
about the spaghetti.

Morty, I lied to protect you.

You told the truth to hurt me.

I can't travel the galaxy with you

if every time we come
near a f*cked up system,

you leap into its wires
and electrocute yourself.

I promise to stop.

- You what?
- If you help me,

I-I promise I'll never look
under the curtain at a Rick thing

to figure out what's
bad about it ever again.

And you can never say no to me.

What are you, Keith Raniere?

- For two weeks.
- Fine.

My grandson kissed my ass, so I'm in.

Okay, so, w-we just need to
figure out something else

besides people to put
in the cans, right?

But people are the spaghetti,
that's the whole thing.

But what if they weren't?

- I'm listening.
- Me, too.

I mean, what if we make
something like a person?

Like... Rick, y-you're always
doing clones, right?

What are you suggesting here?

A sped-up lifespan and
indoctrination program?

Limiting their exposure to the world

and convincing them that becoming
spaghetti is their destiny?

- [ALARM BLARING, DOGS BARKING]
- _

♪♪

I won't be delicious for them!

I love you, Clone-B!

[g*nshots]

[BODIES THUD]

That was some speed run
of "Never Let Me Go," huh?

Spoilers, Rick!

Eh, I guess all clone stories
turn out the same way.

So, we're back to the regular
people, regular suicides?

No, no, hold on, hold on.
We can do this.

Maybe we make them less... people.

H-How much of a people do they
have to be to become spaghetti?

Oooooh, grey areas!

My specialty!

Subject one.

No frontal lobe, no empathy centers.

Otherwise the same
physiology as a person.

Unfortunately, to this guy,

there's no difference
between life and death.

So no spaghetti.

Then there's this one.

It's in horrible, unimaginable pain
from the moment it's born.

Oh, geez, oh, no, Rick!

And so I didn't even bother to make it

because I knew you'd take issue.

Even though you'd be doing it a favour

- by ending its life.
- f*ck you.

You might want to examine
that Trolley Problem

at some point, Morty.

Anyway, here's the last one.

Kept the brain stem,
internal motor functions.

But essentially just a headless,
boneless torso.

There's... spaghetti inside that?

Theoretically, yes.

The problem is the... y-you know.

Cou-Could you, um, like...

What is that? Wh-What are
you... Is this charades?

Okay, okay, are you making a fist?

W-Wait, is that supposed to be a phone?

Ah, f*ck it, just spell it out for me.

Um, maybe give them a claw-like hand

so they can, ya know,
s*ab themselves to death?

All you had to say.

Well, this is some solution
you guys have cooked up.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

Spaghetti!

- Technically.
- Good enough for me.

We need to fill ,
cans by the weekend.

So let's fire up these chunky boys!

Torso's rights! Torso's rights!

The new spaghetti sucks!
We want authentic spaghetti!

- Oh, were you...
- Wait, you're gonna blow yourself up?

Yeah, but if you wanna do it...

Well, you clearly have a
morally superior position,

so please, go ahead.

You just want me to k*ll myself

so you can eat the spaghetti, right?

f*ckin' alien piece of sh*t.

- Oh, f*ck you!
- f*ck you!

[ALL COUGHING]

How long does a society
take to collapse?

Let's find out.

[HORNS HONKING]

Ay! What's the f*ckin' hold-up?

I've got an entire planet
waiting on delivery!

They say they're out of spaghetti!

Then let's go down there and make some!

[SCREAMING]

- k*ll yourself.
- k*ll yourself.

- k*ll yourself.
- k*ll yourself.

- k*ll yourself.
- k*ll yourself.

- k*ll yourself.
- k*ll yourself.

- k*ll yourself.
- k*ll yourself...

MADAME PRESIDENT: I understand.

Divert half of the armed
patrols to civil unrest,

the other half to planetary defence.

Take every action necessary
to restore order.

Still didn't hear much diverting
towards mental healthcare...

The brainstorming is over,

you ghoulish little corpse-eating alien!

You've helped enough!

f*ck!

We owe so much spaghetti
to so many planets

that we're all going to
have to k*ll ourselves.

Slow down, slow down.

Rick can synthesize anything
he gets a sample of.

Can't we still try that?

I mean, is there anyone else left

who might wanna k*ll themselves?

There's one, but good luck.

Two months to live.

Bedridden, terrible pain.

Whoa.

Why hasn't he done it yet?

- Hey!
- f*ck you, spaghetti child!

- What gives?!
- I'm in pain

and I wish I could die,

but I won't feed your
sick system of profit.

Integrity means living with pain.

What if I told you this would end
the spaghetti trade forever?

- What do you mean?
- I'll explain on the way.

[BOTTLES CLATTER]

Did you have a, like a...

euthanasia chamber ready to go?

It's just a place.

[SCREAMING]

Hey! Hey! Everyone stop! Stop!

I have a solution to
get you all spaghetti.

We're gonna do this one last time.

This guy here, he's gonna do the deed,

and I-I'll synthesize it.

This is the Kitty Hawk of
our Wright Brothers flight,

or the fill-in-the-blank from
your fill-in-the-planet.

Now, Fred, just think about your life.

This machine will put it on
screen for everyone to see.

When you're ready, press the button.

[DOOR OPENS, CLOSES]

D-Do you think this is gonna work?

Trust me.

[GROANS]

[BEEPING]

♪♪

♪♪

♪ Maybe ♪

♪ I don't really wanna know ♪

♪ How your garden grows ♪

♪ 'Cause I just wanna fly ♪

♪ Lately ♪

♪ Did you ever feel the pain ♪

♪ In the morning rain ♪

♪ As it soaks you to the bone? ♪

♪ Maybe I just wanna fly ♪

♪ Wanna live, I don't wanna die ♪

♪ Maybe I just wanna breathe ♪

♪ Maybe I just don't believe ♪

♪ Maybe you're the same as me ♪

♪ We see things they'll never see ♪

♪ You and I are gonna live forever ♪

♪ I said maybe ♪

♪ I don't really wanna know ♪

♪ How your garden grows ♪

♪ 'Cause I just wanna fly ♪

♪ Lately ♪

♪ Did you ever feel the pain ♪

♪ In the morning rain ♪

♪ As it soaks you to the bone? ♪

♪ Maybe I will never be ♪

♪ All the things that I wanna be ♪

♪ Now is not the time to cry ♪

♪ Now's the time to find out why ♪

♪ I think you're the same as me ♪

♪ We see things they'll never see ♪

♪ You and I are gonna live forever ♪

♪♪

♪ Maybe ♪

♪ I don't really wanna know ♪

♪ How your garden grows ♪

♪ 'Cause I just wanna fly ♪

♪ Lately ♪

♪ Did you ever feel the pain ♪

♪ In the morning rain ♪

♪ As it soaks you to the bone? ♪

♪ Maybe I just wanna fly ♪

♪ Wanna live, I don't wanna die ♪

♪ Maybe I just wanna breathe ♪

♪ Maybe I just don't believe ♪

♪ Maybe you're the same as me ♪

♪ We see things they'll never see ♪

♪ You and I are gonna live forever ♪

♪ Gonna live forever ♪

[BEEPING]

[GROANS SOFTLY]

[FLATLINE]

[FLATLINE STOPS]

Bon appétit.

[GAGS]

[ALL VOMITING]

Well, f*ck.

I think I can speak on
behalf of my people...

We've had enough spaghetti.

You did it, didn't you?

You couldn't change
everyone's taste buds,

but you could make it... distasteful.

It wasn't the death, was it?

It was the complexity of life.

God, what was the point?

If you're asking whether this was
a story about right and wrong,

the answer is I don't care.

- So what do we do?
- Cells consume, Morty.

Life itself is wrong, and
that means death is right.

But you can't side with that.

So you live, even when it means eating.

And Fred here really did it well.

Mmm, mmm.

[SIGHS]

The hell is this?
Where is the spaghetti?

Why don't you go f*ck yourself, Summer?

- What?
- What's wrong with Salisbury steaks?

- At least try them.
- Holy sh*t, this is...

the best Salisbury steak I've ever had.

- Mmm!
- Is it actually Salisbury steak?

Do you want to know or not?

TOGETHER: No, thanks!

- Just so you know, it's really bad.
- Whatever you say!

Seriously, haha, I'm not kidding.

I won't tell you, but I need you
to know the truth is horrible

so that if you ever find out on
accident, you can't blame me!

- Now that's a deal!
- Yeah!

Honestly, if you knew,
you might k*ll yourselves.

That's the last thing I'll say forever.

ALL: Good!

[LAUGHTER]

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪ Gonna live forever ♪

[FLATLINE]

That's where vacuum
cleaner bags come from?!

Oh, my God.

Vrrrrrr!

Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Hgggggg-vvrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!