Nerdy Morty is steering his flying saucer back to Earth, escaping the ectoplasmic thing that was menacing him and his mad uncle at the end of season four. Suddenly, the steering wheel comes off. Flames lick his craft and the noise – my God, the noise – of beeping alarm systems portends what rocket scientists call “nothing good”.
Do flying saucers even have steering wheels, you ask? Spare me your plodding literalism, I reply. Morty, convinced he and his comatose, sociopathicscience whiz of an uncle Rick are going to die on re-entry, makes his last phone call. What nonsense, you object: I can’t get mobile coverage in the kitchen, let
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