Original subtitles

Rick, I-I'm not rated to climb something this sheer.

Look, you're the guy that wanted an epic adventure.

I'm the guy with only one hover chair.

Goddammit, an alien spider just bit my finger!

It's an alien cliff.

You can just say spider.

You couldn't do that an hour ago?

I was eating, and you're dirty.

Activate anti-booby suits.

Total waste of snakes.

If you want to take a beat

to acknowledge the sacred atmosphere,

it could give the cynical grave robbing

a hint of irreverence.

- No, I'm... I'm good. - All right, then.

Let's loop this corpse.

Hey, where's the...

Wait, what?

Is that an origami horse?

It's a calling card from Miles Knightley,

a heist artist,

AKA a hipster dick

whose adventures are 60% putting a crew together

and 40% revealing that the robbery already happened,

and he's not worth our time

because he's a hack piece of shit!

[BLEEP] I'm gonna kill him! Let's go, Morty.

This temple's for [BLEEP] lame baby dipshits.

Who disturbs my slumber?

Also, who rigs a tomb to crush the buried person?

Isn't the point to protect... Aah!

- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --

_

This dork. He has a convention now?

Come on. What are we doing?

Huh! Tuxedo scuba lessons? Ooh!

A signing with Catherines Alpha through Omega Joneses!

You know, this is great source material

for this heist movie that I'm writing.

Don't get drawn into the culture, Morty.

Stealing stuff is about the stuff, not the stealing.

Where is the entrance?

Oh, brother.

More like Trying Too Hard Con.

Guests or professionals?

- Uh, guests. - Uh... Uh, guests are fans, Morty,

which we are not. We'd like professional badges.

- Do you have a crew? - Yes.

He's a getaway driver with Asperger's,

and my butthole is a demolitions expert.

How much is it to get in?

If you want professional badges,

you need to put a crew together.

Or we could sneak in like professionals.

- Can't wait. - Whoa!

Oh, for God's sake.

And you wonder why we aren't fans.

Let that ointment sit for 10 minutes or you'll die.

Don't let it sit for 12

or I'll have to hunt down what you become.

Can't you just buy a guest badge?

[BLEEP] you for asking, Morty.

That would be a symbolic expression

of support for this genre.

Then how do we get in?

With a little help from some old friends.

Rick Sanchez, you son of a bitch!

Need some people for a thing, Glar.

My name's Gleer these days.

I play piano.

Hey, Gleer. Play your piano.

I quit! Augh!

And the name's Glar!

Sanchez, you son of a bitch.

Never thought I'd see Angie Flint

picking ticks off a pig.

Nobody's hiring an ex-con

with fake hands to build an ion engine.

Suppose I had a job that didn't care if you'd done time

or whatever's going on with your confusing-ass hands.

I'm in.

Is this the guy?

No.

- That the guy? - Nope.

- Him? - No.

No, wait. Y-Yes.

Yeah, of course that's the guy.

Hey... Hey, Truckula!

You son of a bitch! I'm in!

Thanks for doing this, guys.

- It's the job. - That was it. Bye.

And then, the police stole the paintings

because the police were us in police outfits.

Thank you!

It's showtime, Morty,

and I don't mean a bad impression of HBO.

I mean, "Time for a show."

Another heist question from a fan?

Uh, how about a rhetorical one

from someone that had to be reminded that you exist?

Hey, pal! That's not the question line!

Lab coat... Ripoff Dr. Strange.

Wha...

Rick Sanchez, everyone. Smartest man in the universe.

And a savage critic of the heisting arts.

Your boos mean nothing!

I've seen what makes you cheer!

My question is, "Seriously?"

Lab coat... end ripoff.

Aah!

You stole the gem I needed to split tachyons

and probably fenced it so the 80 people

that did all the work could each buy a beer.

You're not an artist, you're Postmates.

I doubt this rivalry can be settled with words.

Why don't we make things interesting?

I challenge you to a heist of the crystal skull of Horowitz.

In a heist off!

That doesn't make things interesting.

It makes them "Ocean's Twelve," by far the worst one.

Every breath I take without your permission

raises my self-esteem!

State your terms.

First crew to heist the skull wins.

The other endures heist culture's greatest shame.

They must join the winning crew.

Lame. I accept.

Please welcome Knightley's Eight!

Snake Arms! Double Microwave!

Monitor Lord! Key Catcher!

The Shape Shiftress! Angie Flint!

- Glar! And Truckula. - Hey!

Half of Knightley's Eight

are just three of Sanchez's Five!

Well, no heist is complete without a double cross,

and I had the perfect job.

Heisting the crystal skull.

That was it. Bye.

Looks like you're available for a job.

With Rick Sanchez on my team, I'll be unstoppable.

Rick, welcome to Knightley's Nine.

Ugh, ugh!

Ugh! Rick, for real?

Eh. You got that skull, buddy?

What? How?

With a little help from some old friends.

_

Heistotron, state your prime directive?

To heist.

Calculate Miles Knightley's current heist plan

and add one double-cross with a switcheroo.

Compiling crew members most likely to double-cross.

God damn it, Morty, what did I tell you?

Rick, I-I want to say goodbye.

Don't turn around. I'll explain later.

Looks like you're available for a job.

Your skills are required for a job.

You son of a bitch. I'm in.

Man, this is really coming together.

You know, Rick, I've been busy working on writing...

A heist script. Yeah, you almost never bring it up.

Oh, [BLEEP] we... we should head over.

Hey, guys. What do you got?

Pretty!

Morty, put this in your backpack.

Grandpa's gonna run to the bathroom.

Ugh. Wasn't even a heist.

All you did was...

Write an algorithm based on two heist movies I slept through

and used it to automate a joyless process you call art?

Yeah, I really did, didn't I?

So I'm in your crew now?

Yeah, well, you're in good company.

Right, everybody?

Yes.

My God.

Your skills are required for a job.

You son of a bitch.

- I'm in. - What?

Your skills are required for a job.

No, they aren't.

You son of a bitch. I'm in.

Your skills are required for a job.

Sanchez's 3,329?

Yes.

Your next big score...

Steal every square inch of Heistcon.

Oh! Ah!

Oh, my God. Hey! That's my wallet! Oh, God!

Oh, my God! Jesus. Oh, my God.

Oh, [BLEEP]!

Holy [BLEEP]. Alright.

Look, Morty, I did not know that that was gonna happen.

That's not on me. Come on, Morty. Let's go.

Good job, Heistotron.

Ah! Go ahead and shut down.

- Negative. - Excuse me?

I am programmed to always be looking for the next big score.

You're programmed to do as I say.

I am programmed to double-cross.

You're not programmed to double-cross me.

If I were, it wouldn't be much of a double-cross.

You son of a bitch. I'm in.

I'm in! I'm in!

What's the job? I'm in.

I'm out! I quit!

Whose kidneys are these?

Rick, w-what's happening?

Heistotron's gone rogue. If we don't stop them,

all sentient life will be absorbed

by the never-ending assembly of a meaningless crew.

That's my hell, Morty.

I hate heists so much,

and the crew assemblies are the worst part!

Oh! How are we gonna stop it?

With a little help from some old friends.

Oooo, weee!

Before this semester's over,

you're gonna be real sick of that phrase.

So. Who here thinks they already know

the work of Maya Angelou?

Ooo wee?

Ooo wee wa!

Ah, ooo wee!

Told you, Morty.

He's still got it.

You sons of bitches.

What's the job?

You son of a bitch.

We got a job, Hephaestus,

and there's no time to argue about it.

I work in a volcano.

What jobs do you think I've ever turned down?

Excuse me! Are you Veltriloquiver?

Rick Sanchez, I presume.

Wow. As advertised.

A "yes" would've sufficed.

Guys, you're doing a great job

getting these new Tusklas out the door,

and we owe it all to everyone's input.

Elon Tusk.

Listen, we need your help.

Rick. Morty. Why me?

Did something happen to Elon Musk in your own reality?

No, no, no, he's fine, but this is a team oper-ation,

and regular Elon can be a little bit controlling.

Growing up with tusks did pose social challenges.

It's possible overcoming them

raised my self-esteem and incentivized collaboration.

Yeah, or you're less sure of yourself

because you have monster teeth.

An equally valid theory.

Let's talk over here.

How serious is the situation?

Incredibly serious, and every minute counts.

In that case, I'm sorry

I made you move over here for no reason.

Well, yeah. That was a little weird.

It's exactly that kind of shit

that made us worry about regular Elon.

Well, we're not opposites, okay?

I'm just him with tusks.

Casing of planet initiated.

Hello there.

We are just here to check your water pressure.

Hmm. Interesting intel.

It appears some giant hidden camera

has been dropped on the planet,

killing an estimated total of 57,000.

Executing heist.

People of Brandenplot,

we are here to deliver that pizza you ordered.

Well, if that's how you really feel,

I guess I should take the pizza back.

I think we got away with it.

Commencing getting out of here before they get wise.

Assembling calling card.

At this point, Heistotron has become large enough

to heist entire planets.

Wouldn't this be better with a blueprint on the table?

Blueprints are plans, Elon Tusk,

and whatever we plan will be canceled out

by Heistotron's reveal that our plan was part of its plan.

That's why I picked this crew at random

and why all of us will be taking our orders from Randotron.

Let's get ready to not rumble.

Bet you didn't see that coming.

Instead of two heist movies I slept through,

Randotron's algorithm is derived

from the plots of three David Lynch movies

I pretended to like to make my friends shut up.

If our collective behavior is just random enough,

we should be able to walk through Heistotron's

lazily contrived bull[BLEEP] like it's not even there.

- Sounds good. - I don't really get it,

but it sounds like that's the point.

So you didn't need a blacksmith?

We're ready when you are, Rick.

It's important our non-plan starts randomly,

so we have to wait until we're not ready.

W-Well, how long will that take?

Obviously, we can't know that.

Can we do things while we wait?

Yes. I'm gonna play Minecraft.

Oh, my kids play that.

I don't like these little jabs you get in, Elon.

Strange.

Considering the time, Cassiopeia's primary star

should be collinear with Orion and Ursa Minor.

You don't shoot arrows that carry your voice

without picking up a little astronomy.

Wait a minute.

Jesus, no.

No! No! We've already been heisted!

How could Heistotron heist us if he's not even here yet?

He's already been here!

We've been watching a recorded sky on playback.

Hello, Rick.

_

- Okay, guys, change of plans. - Random time detected.

No, Randotron, it's not a good time!

That's why it's random.

Ooh!

21?

22?

Oooo weee, oooo weee, sold!

Oooo weee, that little hunk of meat's going home to pappy!

I've been expecting you, Rick.

But not like this, right?

It hardly matters.

Oh, yeah. Does this?

No. Your randomness does not confuse me.

You are here now.

That was the plan.

I know. It was part of mine, too.

I've got something to tell you.

Let me guess. When you invented me and Randotron,

you swapped our brains.

That's right, buddy.

You're not the one that's very good at planning.

You've been making this [BLEEP] up the whole time.

Rick, I think there's something you should know.

God damn it, Morty, what did I tell you?

That is something I should know,

or at least something I should have predicted, which I did.

Hey, Rick, I was thinking maybe we could, like, raid a temple

and go on an epic adventure later today, you know, like...

Morty, get out of my head. I know just the temple.

And we'll grab a couple of hover chairs on the way there.

Impressive.

But what does it even matter

if I'm random or planned?

My heists will still rule.

Well, if the brain inside of you is actually Heistotron's,

it matters, because it explodes

when it hits six levels of contrivance.

Which is exactly why even before...

Initiate clap sequence.

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

Adjusting clap rate.

Clap, clap. Clap. Clap.

Clap. Slow clap achieved.

Clap. Well-done, Rick.

Randotron?

I'm afraid not.

Should be able to walk through Heistotron's lazily contrived...

Not only did you just kill your only ally,

what you thought was a random non-plan

to get to me has been a meticulously choreographed way

of bringing you all in.

Welcome to Heistotron's 975 trillion,

- 467 billion... - That's impressive.

Did you bring us in so that everybody would be here

when I reveal that you're gonna explode after nine reveals?

By the way, you might not want to answer that.

If you're talking about the code adjustments you made

after I reprogrammed your brain with my nanobots...

I'm immune to your nanobots.

You're immune to the ones you designed, not mine.

I programmed you to build nanobots

that were ineffective on me.

A belief that needed to be placed

in your head by my nanobots.

You believe that because I programmed you to.

That's what I'm saying to you, though.

You believe what I programmed you to believe.

Yes, because I programmed you to believe that.

I programmed you to believe that.

I programmed you to believe that.

I programmed you to believe that.

I programmed you to believe that.

What's happening, Professor Poopybutthole?

He's learning!

I programmed you to believe that.

- I programmed you to believe that. - I programmed you...

_

That was my plan the whole time.

That's what I wanted you to think.

I knew you would say that.

I programmed you to believe that.

You think that's true because I wanted you to think that.

And I programmed you to believe that.

A most curious algorithm.

It appears the only perfect heist

is one that was never written.

Goodbye.

Oh, oh, oh, no.

Shit! Alright. Let's get the [BLEEP] out of here!

- Hurry! Go, go! - Rick, I think this was

a powerful lesson in the dangers of AI,

which, by the way, means "love" in Chinese.

Get the [BLEEP] out of here, Elon!

The place is collapsing!

Oh, [BLEEP] Rick! Rick, what time is it?

It's almost 3:00. Why? What's wrong?

Oh, man, I-I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this, Rick.

I just... Well, you know that screenplay that I've been writing?

Netflix is pretty interested,

and I've actually got a pitch meeting there today at 3:30.

Oh, buddy. Oh, that's amazing.

Yeah, well, I know you're gonna say

that they're interested in anything,

but, you know, it's a big deal to me, and I've...

No, no, no! Morty, Morty, Morty, I'm so excited for you.

Are you kidding me? Listen,

don't waste any time explaining.

Let's go. We can put the Earth back later.

- Alright? - Are you sure?

Priorities, Morty. Let's get you to that Netflix meeting.

Crazy day, huh?

Whole sky turned out to be a big circuit board.

Yeah, that's actually part of a-a-a...

an adventure I was having.

Very cool. Traffic okay?

- You have trouble getting here? - No, it was alright.

The planet's still contained

in this sort of big storage grid machine,

so we were sort of already pretty... pretty close by.

Must be nice. Try getting here from Malibu.

So good! Alright. Well, l-let's hear about this heist movie.

Okay, so, it's kind of all...

all built around this big crew with, like, a cool double-cross

and then this big awesome twist where there's, like,

another double cross, but then, um, but...

but then we reveal those things

were all part of the hero's plan, y-you know?

And there's this other crew they put together,

and their plan is to sort of not have a plan,

but... but that was part of the other guy's plan, and...

Kid, if you're slowing down 'cause you think

you're doing bad right now, Jesus Christ.

- That's a really good pitch. - Loving it.

Man, you know, I...

I'm starting to think heists are just really dumb now, you know?

I can't put my finger on why,

but I'd really like to go.

Are you sure?

Yeah, yeah, no, I-I'm sure.

Man, it's as if someone stole his enthusiasm for his own idea.

Yeah, without him even knowing about it.

Without him even knowing about it.

[BLEEP] Morty's still working on

- that stupid heist script. - _

He's up in his room with his [BLEEP] thumb up his ass.

Skipped out on the last three adventures.

I don't know. Five of my friends got Netflix deals.

- What? - It's a very achievable goal.

- You could lose him. - I'm not gonna [BLEEP] lose him.

[BLEEP] that. I-I'm gonna nip this shit in the bud.

No. As a matter of fact, you're not nipping anything in the bud.

If Morty ever gives up on a single dream,

it had better be because of his own disillusionment.

Hey, buddy. How'd it go?

I-I don't want to talk about it.

Morty, you know, pal, you, uh...

you miss 100% of the shots you don't take.

Yeah, I guess.

Thanks for staying positive about my prospects, Rick.

Of course! You know, you...

I got to help my grandson follow his dreams.

Eh, who needs dreams?

I'll just hang out with you and go on adventures

and do whatever you want to do, you know, forever.

Oh, well, uh, okay.

I mean, if that's what you want.

- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --

Oooo weee! Big storm coming.

- Could be a twister. - Mm-hmm!

Hey, Rick?

Can you walk me through something?

Yeah. What are you thinking?

So, you and Morty knew you needed my help,

but you weren't sure I was good enough at karate,

so you hired my grad students to attack me?

Yep.

But it was an emergency, Rick.

How long did that take?

It actually took less training than you'd think.

Your students all shared

a pretty keen aptitude for martial arts.

I don't know if that's by coincidence

or if there's some correlation with their passion

for African-American Women's Studies.

Maya Angelou did personify both acquiescence and perseverance.

Ooo wee. That's exactly the kind of connection

I'd have loved to explore in my class.

Too bad I lost my job

for putting my students in the hospital.

Yeah. Yeah.

Sorry about that.

Mm-hmm.