I'm gonna move to the southwest, and, I don't know...

Summer was finally done with all those bullshit summer classes her mom had roped her into taking, and she was preparing herself for another round of bargaining with Beth about what she was going to do with her life, since she apparently wasn't going to take 'selling jello in space as a cover for an underground resistance movement' as a possible answer. Before that nightmare, though, she had a date with her grandparents and her grandparents' boyfriend at one of their favorite restaurants to catch up.

"Thanks for taking me out to lunch, Gramma, Grampa, Jacob," Summer beamed a little at the end of the meal, after they'd all finished laughing at some rousing joke or another; the food wasn't the best, no, but you didn't come to Shoney's for the food. "It's always nice to see you guys and remember that at least some of my genes come from normal people."

"Well," Joyce smiled at her lovers for a moment before turning her admiration toward her granddaughter, "you know we're all so proud of you, Summer. You've always been so bright and strong and we knew from the moment you were born, that you would really become a bright, charming, and ambitious young woman."

"Oh, you guuuuys," said Summer, waving a dismissive hand, eating that all up with a spoon, "stooooop."

"Now," Leonard continued, bemused but with a serious note, "we wanted to do this for you when you graduated, but your mother expressed her concerns about you using it to...how did she put it, Joyce?"

"To run off with all your weird new space friends," his wife supplied.

"To run off with all your weird new space friends," Leonard nodded, and Summer didn't even bother to hold back rolling her eyes. "But now that you've finished at least a summer of classes, here you go."

Three faces looked at her proudly as her grampa slid a check face-down on the table and Summer smiled back kindly, expecting the usual $25 dollars, maybe even 50 because it was for a big event like her graduation. She picked it up, ready to put on a font of appreciation for the middling amount once she took a look at it.

"Holy shit," she said instead, eyes wide, staring. "That...is a lot of zeroes.

"Where did you even get all this money?" she asked, once she realized from the beatific look on their faces that it wasn't just some sort of weird joke.

"Oh, we started it the moment we found out our son knocked up your mom," said Leonard, far too nonchalant about it, too. "We figured they'd need all the help they could get!"

"And then Jacob," Joyce's smile brightened when she reached for the young man's hand, "it turns out, had invested in that...BitCoin thing, and it really paid off!"

"Once I convinced them that selling jello in space wasn't code for anything nefarious," Jacob added, "they figured this would be a good use of the extra cash flow."

But his brow furrowed as he leaned forward a little. "It's...not, is it?"

"No," Summer said, and she had to laugh. How could she not, sitting on a small fortune like that? "No, it's not." Sliding off the bench, she opened her arms to encourage everyone out into a hug. "You guys are the absolute best, I don't even know how I can thank you, this is...this is...ugh!" Words were, clearly, failing her, but she let her hug do the talking. "Ohhhh, it is so nice to actually have normal people in this family!"

Of course, it was too soon to send all that seed money into the jello business; she hadn't even started scoping out locations in earnest, but there was another faint idea of where she might invest it, so the moment she got home, she popped up to her room and pulled up a number she hadn't needed to call in a while.

"Hello? Miss Blackstone? It's Summer Smith...no...no, no, I'm not calling for jello this time, but I do have a question for you. Remember how you used to have that sign about selling the store? Is that still a thing...? ...yeah? Ohmygod."

[[ L O N G G A M E!! Open if anyone wants to get in touch with her, of course! ]]

Summer's birthday was finally and arbitrarily coming up, and, being the procrastinator that she was, the fact that she was finally making plans for it now was actually pretty good for her. She, of course, had some weekend plans with her Current Lame Earth Dimension friends this weekend (and next), but if anyone thought she wouldn't go and do something back at one in one of the most conveniently (for her, anyway) accessed dimensions where she could legally drink, well, then they clearly didn't know Summer very well, did they?

Which is why, at some point, everyone she could access through Fandom Island's directory (she figured it would just be easier this way), would receive a text from a number they may or may not recognize, because mass texting was always Summer's preferred way of party invite, and, besides, it wasn't like she could just go slip flyers underneath doors anymore.

It's my birthday!!!!!!
Party Time! Caritas! Tuesday June 19th!
It's gonna be DOPE, yo.

Simple. Sweet. To the point. And now to get going off to her Econ class, where she thought she might actually be making some progress with that cute junior professor. Either that, or he was mistaking her advances for an actual interest in his boring ass lectures...

But not before sending in a follow-up text that she didn't think was necessary, but, apparently, it was:

Presents totally not necessary, omg!

[[ yay for finally picking an arbitrary birth date that will probably 100% joss me in a future season! Open for any calls, texts, emails, carrier pigeon messages back, of course! ]]

The Death Stalker's camp was a place where lawlessness reigned. It was a place where meals were made of human flesh and served buffet style, and tetanus lurked around every dirty, rusty corner. Where spray paint seemed inexplicably plentiful to shoot into one's face and get high since the world surrounding them was so grim and brutal, and time was passed playing chicken in the middle of the camp with weapons fashioned out of golf clubs. It was brutal, it was stark, it was totally fucking metal. And one Smith was adapting much more easily than the other.

(Summer. It was Summer.)

( Did the boomy-booms blow up all your wordy-word books? )

"Wanna piss on him?" Summer asked.

"Get outta my head," said Hemorrhage.

________________________________________

And while Summer was away shooting mutants with the Death Stalkers, Morty seemed to have gotten into his own interesting situation in the ThunderBlood Dome. They returned just in time to see Morty in the middle, his left arm somehow all jacked up and muscular, beating the snot out of some hulking dude with his overalls held up by his nipple rings.

"Morty?" Summer made her way through the crowd, trying to get a better look at what was happening.

( We are united, or we are enemies. )

And that's when Morty's monster arm reached for Rick's back, swiftly extracting the large glowing green rock of Isotope 322, promptly dropping it on the ground for all to see.

"Ohhhh," said Rick, pulling out his gun, then looking up and out, as if to some sort of forth wall or something. "We'll be right back."

[[Part 3 of ???. Continued from here and here. I love my dumb, stupid, cracky canon. Spoilers, violence, blah blah blah, all that good stuff]]

"Aga blah blah! GaggGablaghblagh."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Summer waved her hand dismissively as she fiddled with the unfamiliar device, "I got it, I got it. Okay, uh, say 'Glargablarg?'"

In front of her, the two Garblovians in Aloha shirts posed, Summer managed to figure out how to take their picture, and handed back their device. "Aga glab glab!" they garbled before they drifted away, and Summer tried to not make a face as she returned to the edge of the fountain where her friends were sitting.

"Ugh, tourists are the worst," she said, pulling out a phone.

( There was a funny thing about popularity... )
[[establishy, do do do]]