Big Trouble in Little Sanchez

Rick and Morty 2x7

Summer: Wait, what?! Vampires are real?!
Rick: Yes, Summer, vampires are real. Who knew? Oh, right, all humanity, for hundreds of years, now.

Summer: Well, what are we going to do?!
Rick: We're gonna live our lives until we die. Possibly by vampire. More likely auto accident or heart disease, but possibly vampire.

Rick: I probably could turn myself into a teenager and hang out in the zit-covered, hormone-addled, low-stakes assworld that is high school. But here's my reverse-ask— Why in the fuck would I ever do that, ever?

Jerry: Clearly, I didn't know it was about vampires, because I wasn't paying attention, which you would know, if you ever paid attention to me!
Beth: Oh, here we go, right to the victim role.
Jerry: Am I a victim, Beth, or am I married to a mean, unfair monster that always hurts me?!

Beth: Read it and weep, bitch.

Rick: What up, my Helsings? Who wants to hunt a vampire? Ha ha ha!

Rick: Don't short-sell yourself, Summer. You got everything it takes.

Morty: Man, who would've suspected Coach Feratu?..

Tiny Rick: And who can have fun with this old bastard hanging around, huh? Wubby lubby doob doob! Tiny Rick!

Tiny Rick: All right, everybody. This next one's coming straight from the heart. Making the lyrics up right off the top of my head...

Glaxo Slimslom: What the hell kind of relationship do you have?!
Jerry: Oh, right, blame this on us.
Glaxo Slimslom: Okay, uh, I can and I am! Your demonized mythologizations of each other are cooperating.

Glaxo Slimslom: You have the single worst marriage I've ever witnessed. It shouldn't exist! You should never, ever, ever, have gotten together and I do not understand how, or why, you would ever stay together.

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Morty: Get your shit together! Get it all together and put it in a backpack. All your shit, so it's together... And if you gotta take it somewhere, take it somewhere, you know? Take it to the shit store and sell it o-or put it in a shit museum. I don't care what you do! You just gotta get it together... Get your shit together!

Summer: Listen to it, Tiny Rick. Listen to Elliott Smith. Feel what he's feeling.
Rick: Ugh! Noooooooo! God! Oh, god, what is life? How can someone so talented die so young? What is being young? I'm not young. I'm old. I'm— I'm gonna die.

Rick: There's a set of diodes on the vat's control panel, a blue one and a red one— Oh, god, what kind of world is this?— I didn't ask to be born— I need you to connect the blue one to my left temple and the red one to— Why doesn't anyone really like me?

Jerry: Good old Beth! The mind of a robot and the heart of an insect!

Jerry: I had a feeling that, in your mind, the ideal version of me is one smart enough to see you as... a goddess.
Beth: Not such a stupid worm now, are you?
Jerry: Honey, when it comes to the subject of your ego, I'm Stephen fucking Hawkinson.
Beth: Ugh, it's— Never mind. I love you.

Rick: I learned, today, something important— The teenage mind is its own worst enemy.

Rick: Grandpa's back, baby!

Jerry: Huh! Sounds like our stories were connected by a theme.
Rick: Not really, Jerry. Probably a cosmetic connection your mind mistakes for thematic.
Jerry: Oh.
Rick: Old Rick! Ruinin' everything!

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