Summer Smith (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
somethingwithturquoise) wrote2017-08-24 08:23 am
somethingwithturquoise) wrote2017-08-24 08:23 am
The Smith Residence; Earth Dimension [Replacement]; 08/24.
"I am Summer."
In the garage of the Smith household, Rick had finished twisting Summer's head back in place. He flipped up a switch on the back of her neck, which promptly dissipated back into her skin.
"Summer, state your deal."
"My deal," said the robot Summer, hand to her chest, eyes bright and shining with perfectly programmed teenage naivete, "is that I am, like, totally fine."
"Morty?"
"Aw, geez," said robot Morty, waving a hand and acting as cool as a nerdy teenage cucumber, "I'm so down with my parents' divorce, dawg. Like, don't even trip, like, in a healthy way."
"All right!" Pleased with his clearly perfect representations of his grandkids, Rick rubbed his hands together eagerly. "It's dinnertime."
Dinnertime. The true test of what he'd been working on all day, these robotic versions of Morty and Summer that he could send out to Beth so that she didn't suspect anything. So that she wouldn't know that he had just left her children in a post-apocalyptic world where Morty wasn't at all pretty much a slave to a possessed monster arm and Summer was totally making healthy decisions and dealing with her anger in a good way.
"Thanks, everybody," Beth said, practically gushing after a sip of her wine, "for sitting down for a real dinner."
"No problem!" the others chimed in together.
"Its benefits," said Summer, "are totally, like, less about the food than the emotional nourishment."
"Uh," Beth chuckled awkwardly, "okay, weirdo."
Rick chuckled, too, just a little bit strained. "Yeah, dial it back, Summer. By fifteen percent and increase dynamic movement by three. Am I right?"
"How's school, Morty?" Beth asked.
"I like school!" said Morty. "And stuff. Kind of. And I'm getting better grades than when you and Dad were--quote mode--" He lifted his hands to supply air quotes, "staying together for the kids. End quote mode."
"Quote mode," said Beth, smirking. "I like that. You millennials. Are you guys millennials, or are they like 40 now?"
"All I know is," said Summer, "totally, you look great."
"Aw, geez, Mom," Morty chimed in, "you look all kinds of great and stuff. It's crazy!"
"So happy," gushed Summer.
"So happy," Morty agreed. "Happy family, man. We got this family in the bag."
All the good cheer and happy family being in the bag must have been too much for Beth, as she failed to hold back a small sob. She sniffed, and then it was all over, the tears letting loose, rolling down her chin.
"Oh." Rick reached out in a weak attempt to console his crying daughter. "Oh, sweetie, d-don't. Listen..."
"I don't I don't know why I'm crying," she said. "It's not..."
"Well," Rick offered, "try crying fifteen percent less?"
"Mom," Summer said, "emotions are human. You're not, like, a computer inside a mechanical doll."
"Yeah, geez, Mom, your feelings are not only forgivable, they are the very meaning of life that only pre-silicon, carbon-based entities can ever grasp."
One more sniff, and Beth bolted to her feet. "I have to call Jerry."
"You do?!" But it was too late, Beth was gone around the corner, and Rick turned his frustration toward his robot grandchildren. "What the fuck is wrong with you two? The point of automation is to reduce cost and labor."
"Your feelings," said Summer, reaching out to him, "are coming from a--"
"Tell it to my bread in the morning," Rick said, triggering the switch on the back of Summer's neck to shut her down. She fell forward into her dinner plate. "You just became my backup toaster."
"Aw, geez," Morty chuckled, but Rick was on his way over to him, too, hitting the switch so his voice got progressively deeper until it faded out. "My sister died in the spaghet---"
He, too, promptly died face first in the spaghet.
[[ CANON CATCH UP NEARLY COMPLETE! Part 1 of only 2 today, with a special OOC note to follow ]]
In the garage of the Smith household, Rick had finished twisting Summer's head back in place. He flipped up a switch on the back of her neck, which promptly dissipated back into her skin.
"Summer, state your deal."
"My deal," said the robot Summer, hand to her chest, eyes bright and shining with perfectly programmed teenage naivete, "is that I am, like, totally fine."
"Morty?"
"Aw, geez," said robot Morty, waving a hand and acting as cool as a nerdy teenage cucumber, "I'm so down with my parents' divorce, dawg. Like, don't even trip, like, in a healthy way."
"All right!" Pleased with his clearly perfect representations of his grandkids, Rick rubbed his hands together eagerly. "It's dinnertime."
Dinnertime. The true test of what he'd been working on all day, these robotic versions of Morty and Summer that he could send out to Beth so that she didn't suspect anything. So that she wouldn't know that he had just left her children in a post-apocalyptic world where Morty wasn't at all pretty much a slave to a possessed monster arm and Summer was totally making healthy decisions and dealing with her anger in a good way.
"Thanks, everybody," Beth said, practically gushing after a sip of her wine, "for sitting down for a real dinner."
"No problem!" the others chimed in together.
"Its benefits," said Summer, "are totally, like, less about the food than the emotional nourishment."
"Uh," Beth chuckled awkwardly, "okay, weirdo."
Rick chuckled, too, just a little bit strained. "Yeah, dial it back, Summer. By fifteen percent and increase dynamic movement by three. Am I right?"
"How's school, Morty?" Beth asked.
"I like school!" said Morty. "And stuff. Kind of. And I'm getting better grades than when you and Dad were--quote mode--" He lifted his hands to supply air quotes, "staying together for the kids. End quote mode."
"Quote mode," said Beth, smirking. "I like that. You millennials. Are you guys millennials, or are they like 40 now?"
"All I know is," said Summer, "totally, you look great."
"Aw, geez, Mom," Morty chimed in, "you look all kinds of great and stuff. It's crazy!"
"So happy," gushed Summer.
"So happy," Morty agreed. "Happy family, man. We got this family in the bag."
All the good cheer and happy family being in the bag must have been too much for Beth, as she failed to hold back a small sob. She sniffed, and then it was all over, the tears letting loose, rolling down her chin.
"Oh." Rick reached out in a weak attempt to console his crying daughter. "Oh, sweetie, d-don't. Listen..."
"I don't I don't know why I'm crying," she said. "It's not..."
"Well," Rick offered, "try crying fifteen percent less?"
"Mom," Summer said, "emotions are human. You're not, like, a computer inside a mechanical doll."
"Yeah, geez, Mom, your feelings are not only forgivable, they are the very meaning of life that only pre-silicon, carbon-based entities can ever grasp."
One more sniff, and Beth bolted to her feet. "I have to call Jerry."
"You do?!" But it was too late, Beth was gone around the corner, and Rick turned his frustration toward his robot grandchildren. "What the fuck is wrong with you two? The point of automation is to reduce cost and labor."
"Your feelings," said Summer, reaching out to him, "are coming from a--"
"Tell it to my bread in the morning," Rick said, triggering the switch on the back of Summer's neck to shut her down. She fell forward into her dinner plate. "You just became my backup toaster."
"Aw, geez," Morty chuckled, but Rick was on his way over to him, too, hitting the switch so his voice got progressively deeper until it faded out. "My sister died in the spaghet---"
He, too, promptly died face first in the spaghet.
[[ CANON CATCH UP NEARLY COMPLETE! Part 1 of only 2 today, with a special OOC note to follow ]]