Original subtitles

And in weird things in space news,

that mysterious "rift" is still there.

Not gone yet. You remember that, don't you?

It's probably important.

Back to you, Tabitha.

Rick, Mom's working, and Dad's still sleeping.

I'm... I'm... I'm gonna be late.

Yeah, yeah. I-I got you.

Here. Holy shit.

I-Is the portal gun working again?

Yeah, pretty much.

Sometimes that happens.

Just get the keys.

It's actually been nice taking a break

from the portal travel stuff.

I-I've been racking up a lot of high-school adventures.

I have a process, Morty. Huh?

I'm fixing my portal gun, and every time you bring it up,

it blocks my creative flow.

A-And then I'm forced to take longer on purpose

just to train you to not bring it up.

Geez. Do you know what "projection" is?

Do you? No.

I-I-I heard Mom use it.

Lord, no. He's here again?

Morty protocol, children.

Oh, what's it now?

Brain bugs? Space worms?

Have I been "The Faculty'd" again?

You guys don't have to react like this every day.

Last time, the aliens made me lick all the toilet seats.

That's right... made me.

I see that look on your faces.

What did you do, ya tiny monster?

This isn't me.

The people demand to know...

Do these visitors come in peace?

But first, "Peter's Pizza Corner."

What slice we reviewing today, Petey?

Cheese.

If these aliens want Earth,

they'll have to go through Egypt.

And they can ask mummies how that goes.

Mummy mia!

Dinosaurs are back?

Monkeys went bald?

Shh!

Before we start...

where are the rest of...

us?

Uh...

They died. Uh...

Long time ago.

Way before us. We didn't see nothin'.

But surely our ancestors must have left some evidence behind.

Why is he nervous?

Because, uh, you're dinosaurs.

It's weird.

Thought you were dead.

Moving on, we "dinosaurs" evolved here on Earth

until our technology was planetarily harmonic.

That being the goal

with technology.

After we achieved perfect balance with Mother Earth,

our best and bravest left to help other planets.

Over millions of years, we've called many worlds home

and helped each one flourish.

Imagine our surprise upon returning home

to find our species extinct and Earth now in the care of...

you guys.

When we left, you were basically squirrels.

Well, uh, we've come a long way,

and we... We've buried a lot more than nuts.

We've evolved past nonconstructive criticism,

so let's agree you've done your best.

You're still alive.

But surely there was some point between gunpowder

and something called Amazon Prime

that you folks had to think,

"Are we supposed to be running a planet?

Wouldn't we rather make...

Marvel movies?"

How many Marvel movies have you made?

29, and 14 more on the way.

See, you love doing that.

And we love helping new life-forms get their footing.

So now that we're back, we can respectfully take it from here.

Now, hold on. If you've seen "Endgame,"

you know invasion is not something

Earth takes lying down.

This is not an invasion.

Besides, wouldn't you like to lie down?

Ugh. You must be exhausted.

Put your feet up, get more tattoos,

finish rounding out this "Ant-Man" character.

Think of it like your Earth concept of "vacation,"

except permanent.

I think I speak for all world leaders

when I say that the poor people would just murder us

if we made you leave, so...

welcome home, dinosaurs.

Oh. I could use a vacation.

Should we nuke them? I'm on vacation, Curtis.

Well, you leaned into this fast.

Ugh. I can't even pretend to feel useful in a game.

This is how humanity's story ends?

Relieved of duty and sat at the kids' table?

I gotta respect these dinosaurs.

They dominated a whole species

just by calling its bluff about wanting more free time.

They didn't even dominate us

because we're not worth a fight to them.

We've become biological Tyler Perry movies.

All they've done is help. We didn't need their help.

We were not the problem.

This house recycles.

They sort it at the trash facility.

What the "F"? My dance videos

are getting, like, zero likes now.

Oh, yeah. The dinos kicked pedophiles off TikTok.

Great. So now I'm broke?

You don't need money anymore.

So what's this for now?

Phone calls? Ugh.

Oh, c'mon, Dad. You don't hate this, too?

Why would I? I-I was already doing what I wanted.

I do think it's kind of funny

that you're all basically Jerry now.

Fuck.

Jerry, how do you do it?

- Yeah, Dad, how do you do it? - How do you do it, Dad?

- Huh? - How do you do it?

It's finally happened.

All right.

Does anyone know how to mail things to publishers?

Uhp. President only pages me

if it's an emergency or he needs Molly.

I'm sure glad you stayed open, Beau.

Wish we could pay,

but no more capitalism.

I never make ribs for the money, Mr. President.

Oh, um, here ya go.

That's not why I called.

Drugs can't solve this problem.

I can't live like this anymore.

At first it was fun spending all day

watching whatever YouTube autoplays

after the last one autoplayed,

but a man can only watch so many ads for Grammarly.

Rick. Please.

You're not bound by morality.

Get rid of them. Slit their necks.

Zero Dark Thirty these fuckers for the good of the species.

I won't tell. Help us go back to the old days,

where we pretend to fix the problems we caused.

You think I'm gonna side with you

over hyper-intelligent creatures

operating way beyond your comprehension?

I have more in common with them than you.

You pompous autistic cadaver!

You think you're above this? I ought to...

Look here, Mr. President.

When I need my ribs to be tender and delicious,

I pamper them.

See, if you give someone what they want,

they'll give you what you need.

I'm jus' saying.

I see your point, Beau.

All right, Rick. Ha ha.

Name your price.

- Aw, crap. - God damn it.

How often are you "Westworld-ing" me?

Hang on. Rib-tips jammed his folk-chip again.

Ol' reliable Rick.

Always k-knows what to do.

What do you want, Rick? Trustworthy.

I won't stoop to answering that again. Honest.

You know exactly what I want.

I can't just snap my fingers and get you that job.

Yeah, yeah. Thanks for lunch.

Fine. Fine!

If you get rid of the dinosaurs...

you can host the Oscars.

Yes! Righteous R-Rick.

Straight shootin', t-truth-tellin',

never wets the bed.

Goodbye, old friends.

May you rest in peace,

rather than the tank of an S.U.V.

Hello, fellow cosmic voyagers.

Can we help you?

Actually, I can probably help you.

See, I'm technically human, but I've come to be more,

you know, on your level.

We're fine, thank you.

Maybe I'm being too indirect.

I happen to dabble in multiversal travel,

and I could probably zap you guys to an alternate Earth.

We used portal travel eons ago, but evolved to a one-universe,

one-truth policy as the highest form of existence.

Sort of a "put your own oxygen mask on

before helping others" type of a thing.

Have you been on a plane?

Yes, I've been on a plane.

We have no problem if you jump dimensions.

Although we sense your gateway device is suboptimal.

Let us help. I don't need help.

I-I'm here to help you.

What the hell is this?

A "Portal Pistol."

The gateways are see-through, not a green swirl,

so now you can see where you're going.

Clever girl.

If you'd like, we could patch up

your little interdimensional rift too.

No, leave it. I know how to close that.

That's there for a reason. Very canonical.

Don't you just want it closed?

Morty, whose team are you on?!

It's normal to be frustrated. Here.

Oh, my God, are you fucking kidding me?

Goodbye. No. Wait.

What the fuuuuu...

Aah! Dr. Manhattan high-road assholes teleporting me? Ah! I saw my bones!

Why... Why wasn't that painful?

They didn't even do it right. My... My... My fly is down.

Your fly was already down.

What are you doing with that?

Rick, it was a better...

Nothing from them is better.

That thing had uptight Zen snob germs all over it.

So, what, now you're gonna fight them?

And prove we're violent and stupid?

No. We're gonna find out what they're hiding.

Only people who have really fucked up in the past

have to virtue signal this hard.

Look at Sean Penn. But, Rick,

aren't these feelings, like, what they're talking about?

Like, life gets, um...

"programmed for competition by early stages of evolution."

Like, amoebas have to fight amoebas for energy,

but once a species can get enough sugar from a machine

to give itself diabetes,

it's allowed to start thinking beyond conflict.

I mean, it's all in their pamphlet.

Morty, you're a genius.

I clearly mean that in the '90s ironic sense,

but this self-fellating zine is a treasure map

to every fossilized bone in their skeleton closet.

They're gonna call us Laura Dern

because we're about to get elbow deep in dino doo-doo.

Get it, Morty? The gloves?

You... You remember the big gloves?

Yeah, no, I get it, Rick.

I said "clever girl" earlier. You didn't even react.

I was angry.

Um, I'm looking for a few of my, uh, friends.

Hmm. Kinda look like the Skullfeet

that used to live on our planet way before us.

They're long gone now. Really?

They're extinct here, too? Yeah.

We keep their bones in that museum over there.

Um, wow.

These guys aren't gonna be much help.

The leading theory is, the Skullfeet

stepped on their own brains so much they straight-up died.

Such a shame. Would have loved to hear them sing.

Sing? Yeah.

We figured they used to hold huge outdoor concerts

in their land amphitheater.

You people are idiots. Hey.

We didn't have much to go by.

Bones aren't big on conversation.

Yeah, neither are you, pal.

The majestic Basketsaur. Aren't they incredible?

We're even making a series of increasingly terrible movies

about cloning them in a theme park.

So what happened to them? No idea.

But we do know they all loved eating communal soup

out of the Great Dirt Bowl.

Starting to see a pattern here.

Breathtaking, aren't they?

It's a common misconception that they roamed our planet.

The truth is, they rolled.

Street-style mostly.

Some vert. Lemme guess.

There's a very large, deep circular indentation

in which these "Grindasaurs" used to shred.

We think they had a second brain in their butt

dedicated to pulling 1080s.

Three planets visited by dinosaurs,

three apocalyptic meteor impacts.

Gi... Gi... Gimme the board.

I'm dropping in for data.

Aah! Rick!

That's the hardest thing in skateboarding. Oh! Ow!

It looked so easy on... Aah... "Pro Skater 3."

Oww.

Hello.

Jackpot, Morty.

You still think the dinosaurs got something to hide?

No, Morty, they have a reason to hide.

Come here, ya little whippersnapper. No, Rick, stop!

C'mere, Morty. Come on, gimme a hug. No, don't touch me. Your hands are greasy.

What's the matter with you?

It's become clear your species is having a hard time

adjusting to its reduced accountability.

Our solution is to hold these regular keynotes, or talks,

which you used to launch new phones and religions.

Uhp, I see someone's eager to speak.

Hi. Um, what do you do when you want to kill yourself?

You don't do that. Thank you for asking, though.

Ver... Very important.

We recently discovered a new piece of human literature

that we think everyone should read.

Holy shit! I'm a famous author!

Wait, where's my name?

We will distribute it to everyone on Earth tomorrow.

Excuse me. Aren't you gonna say who wrote it?

Nope. Whoever wrote it must be above needing credit.

It's all here in this book that belongs to everyone.

For free.

You Communist lizard scumbags!

I wrote that.

Me, Jerry Smith!

Hey, hey, hey!

Guess what. Dinosaurs are not secretly evil,

and they're not out to cause anybody trouble,

but it turns out trouble has a way of following them.

Oh, yes, yes, yes. It's showtime.

Literally every planet with dinosaurs on it

is eventually smashed by a huge space rock

that takes out them and most existing life.

What? That can't be true.

It's all right to be frustrated.

Let me explain.

Why would planet-killing meteors follow dinosaurs?

As these reptiles evolved to higher and higher levels

of loving vegan godhood,

another life-form devolved into an equally selfless,

hate-filled species of barely sentient rocks.

They hurtle through space and do as much damage

as they can to their chosen enemy, which is guess who.

Yup, everywhere these dinos go,

these rocks, they come a-crashing.

And this one...

is headed directly towards us.

And all of our work? It was for...

Nothing. Bingo. Welcome to life.

It's a big boat with a lot of holes,

but we're all in it together.

- Oh, my. - Ohhhhh.

Mm. So much death.

Congratulations, primates.

Looks like Earth could have done worse.

Rick out. Oh.

And don't forget to tune in to this year's Oscars.

Well, this is a... a lot to take in.

I like trains now.

Okay, that hurt.

Trains rule!

Dinos drool!

And you had no idea about the disastrous meteors

that followed in your wake?

We just learned about it like you.

Truly heartbreaking news.

But I assume you're gonna destroy it

when it arrives here, right?

Um, we're in the process of finding a solution

that, um, doesn't involve violence.

Hold on. You're in the process?!

Well, there you have it, Cooperheads.

An angry species of rock is gonna slam into our...

Sorry... their planet, and our new planet runners

are weighing whether to let it happen.

I mean, no one knows if the meteor species is even real.

No. It's very real.

We all know that. You know what's real?

A rear naked choke hold. I'll show you

- Hmm? - What?

Final question... How we doing?

We have come to the conclusion the only way

to ensure humanity will be safe is for us to go.

We are leaving the planet for good.

Maybe it's the Molly, but I fucking love you, Rick.

It's the Molly. Isn't this nice?

Rivalries behind us, dinos gone,

two cool guys living in the moment.

So, uh, like, uh

you know what you're gonna wear? Because...

I can't get another plus-one. What?!

I'm the one who got you the gig, you son of a bitch!

I feel this napkin...

Feel this napkin.

So soft.

This is the 95th annual Academy Awards.

Now, please welcome your host,

an old science guy who got rid of the dinosaurs...

Rick Sanchez.

Suck my gray tits Hollywood pinkos.

Where's the mic?

The... The... The raising mic?

Ha.

Bring it up!

Tommy.

Tom Hanks is here.

C'mon. Do it.

Come on.

Do ittttt.

Okay, okay, one time.

"Wilson!"

I'm Oscar host Rick.

Grandpa Rick, this is so cool.

That microphone bit killed. Yeah, told you it would.

That was all scripted?

Every moment at the Oscars is.

Even that one thing. - Ha ha!

Look who stole themselves a swag bag.

- Ah, fucking Sprinkles coupon! - We're splitting that.

Hey, so I was thinking it might be funny

to add dinosaurs to the "In Memoriam."

Eh, it feels beneath us.

It's funnier that they left and we don't even care.

Oh, yeah, they left, but they keep begging for attention.

You haven't heard?

The dinos are just standing up there on Mars

with their dicks in their hands. So dramatic.

What, they're just gonna let the meteor hit them a-and die?

Good. If being superior to everyone makes you die,

I call that balance.

It's all in my globally published book

the dinos stripped my name from!

Ugggh. Oscars are over.

Where are my keys?

God damn it, I need to fix portal travel.

And... And I'm going to. I have a process.

Our final act of kindness.

It's been an honor serving the sanctity of life

with you all.

Hee-aaaaaaaaarghhhhhhhhh!

Rick, what are you doing?

Standing here with you guys.

You don't want to do that.

We're sacrificing ourselves here.

Then so am I. Y'know?

Elon Musk be damned, we're blowing up Mars.

No. We're doing something selfless.

You're doing it out of pettiness.

How is anyone supposed to know the difference?

Consider it a game of virtue chicken.

Okay, if you won't go, we'll make you go.

Oh. Sorry. I-I dino-proofed my tech to spite you guys.

Which further proves selflessness and selfishness

are two sides of the same coin, so what's the point?

Fine. Cool with me that your final chapter

is dying on Mars with an old dickhead.

Hyaaaa!

Aaaah!

All right! Welcome back.

You obnoxious little twat!

Yeah, but you're alive.

No David Foster Wallace-ing in my galaxy.

You don't get to be so smart

that you remove yourself from everybody.

From one god being to another, you're welcome.

Well, as long as we're doing each other favors...

Hey. Wait, wait, wait. What are you doing?

You fixed my rift?

You fucking hypocritical cocks.

I-It was all canonical and shit.

We coulda milked that thing for a whole season.

O-Or, like, a three-episode arc at least.

Sorry. That's just us.

We love helping,

god beings to god being.

Seriously. I was gonna fix that.

Shit. They're coming back.

Can we turn on the A.C.?

It's, like, a thousand degrees outside.

Yes! New follower.

Named... CryptoForBareToes?

Not sure I get it, but sounds like business.

Proud of you, honey.

Is Dad okay?

Yes. I'm just...

writing my second book.

I don't know what it's gonna be about,

but I can tell you one thing... The title is

A Book by Jerry Smith."

Chapter one...

Fuck!

Morty, get your ass in the garage!

Hoo-ha! Check it out.

A... A dimension where hats wear people.

Mmmmm! Oh!

I did it! I fixed portal travel.

Oh, shit.

Figured my guy deserves a vacation.

Boob World! You're damn right.

And it's Areola Week.

All right!

Good old-fashioned portal fun.

Yep. Like this.

Ohh! Whoa!

It's gonna be classic episodes, Morty.

Oh, I'm gonna puke, Rick! Portaling in.

Wrecking shit, portaling out, Morty.

Oh, my Go... Adventures, Morty.

Aah! Aah! Social commentary.

Crude characters. Here we go.

Rick and Morty time!

This is our home now.

We shall live out the rest of our days here.

Never interfering with the ways of the universe again.

We are content.

It was a good run.

Speaking of a good run...

I bet I could switch heel onto that manny pad,

big spinout, tre flip that gap, 5-0 the rail,

drop into the bowl, stalefish into a Christ Air,

and then we get fucking wrecked.

Ho-ho. It's on, Iguanadon.

Did you get any of that?

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