WARNING: spoilers for “World Revolution”.
Note: read “Cure Sometimes, Treat Often, And Comfort Always” first. Also spoilers for the Multiverse Saga.
A couple of months after the World Revolution, three old men gather on the veranda of Pierre’s cabin, sampling the latest crop from Pierre’s greenhouses.
The first, of course, is Pierre himself.
The second is Pierre’s friend from another world, the spiky-haired scientist’s grandson currently getting acquainted with the Fluffy Cartel.
And the third is Lu-Tze, the wizened old monk in a saffron robe who trained Jack to harness his temporal powers.
Like the Fonda cabin, Pierre’s cabin is close enough to the Brownie Palace for the elderly trio to get a good view.
The Fondas are currently in their cabin, baking more brownies for the Cartel. And, of course, some for themselves. Woodstock is entertaining them with his Gordon Ramsay impression.
He’s actually rather good at it.
The spiky-haired scientist, who Pierre calls Richard, watches Rock push a cart of golden berries back to the Brownie Palace.
“So let me get this belch straight. They trade pot brownies for berries?”
Pierre, currently rolling up a joint, nods.
“Or for anything else another herd has and they want, Richard. Blueberry is rather clever for a fluffy, you see.”
“Hot damn, I’ve never seen a drug lord who was so… cute. These guys are growing on me. But Pierre, you don’t have to be so formal. Just call me burp Rick. Everyone else does. Even my grandkids call me Rick.”
“Alright, Rick.”
“See, it’s not that hard. I don’t know why you guys always burp dance around naming names. You don’t do it with Lousy here. My name’s well-known across the belch multiverse. So is Morty’s by now. Even if it’s just because he hangs out with me.”
Lu-Tze grins at Rick.
“It’s Lu-Tze, Rick. So what’ve you and Morty been up to in other worlds?”
Rick shrugs.
“Well, we recently had to return some badger thing to the looneys it came from, because whatever condition it has is burp irreversible. Aaaand we’ve been spending a lot of time on th-this island that’s burp trapped in some kinda Groundhog Day time loop bullshit. Everyone there is crazy. It’s a non-stop battle royale in that world. Good place to blow off some steam after a bad belch day.”
“You ever do any other time stuff?”
“Eh. Once or twice, but it’s not really my burp thing.”
Meanwhile, Morty chats to Blueberry, currently patrolling the area in the Blaukörper.
That’s what Blueberry’s Stahlkörper 2.0 is now called.
“S-so, how’d you get that thing? Me and Rick saw you stomping around in it during the battle.”
“Ewwin made it fow Bwuebewwy. An mod-if-aid da cawn-twows su Bwuebewwy cud op-uh-wate it.”
“You sure know a lot of big words for a fluffy. I thought fluffies were-- were basically children.”
“Bwuebewwy am Ess-Paws-uh-if. Bwuebewwy am da smawtest nat-choo-waw bown fwuffy awive.”
“That, uh, explains it.”
Blueberry smiles down at Morty.
“Su, du Mowt-ee wike tu paw-tee? Cuz Bwuebewwy can huk Mowt-ee up wif sum feew-gud nummies. Awn da housie, cuz Wick an Mowt-ee am fwends of Piewwe.”
“Um, that’s real generous of you, but I don’t think it’s a g-good idea to eat pot brownies that were lying in a warren.”
“Pffft! Fwuffy Cawtew nu keep da bwownies in da Bwownie Pawace nu mowe. Cawtew keep dem in Tommeh housie. Am much mowe hai-gen-ik. An dummeh fwuffies fwom udda hewds nu can git in dewe.”
“Oh. I’d have to ask Rick if it’s okay. Uh, just curious, those brownies d-don’t have any purgenol in them, right?”
“Wut da fuk am puwg-en-ow?”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
Rick takes a huge hit of the joint Pierre rolled, and passes it back to him.
“This is burp nice, I gotta admit. Usually, me and Morty are so busy going on belch adventures, we don’t really get a chance to kick back like this. We went to a spa once, after one really rough adventure. Did not end well.”
He draws a hip flask and takes a swig from it, before offering it to the others.
Pierre and Lu-Tze politely refuse, not knowing what is in the hip flask.
Rick shrugs, and takes another swig.
“More for burp me, I guess.”
Pierre smiles.
“Perhaps you should try that concoction June makes.”
“What’s in it?”
“Apples. Well, mostly apples.”
Lu-Tze grins.
“Ah, we’ve got something like that in my world. I know who makes it, and she’d get along with June like a house on fire.”
Pierre, having taken a hit, passes the joint to Lu-Tze.
“Screams, flames, people running for safety?”
“Something like that, mate.”
“Mon Dieu, I hope they never meet. I’m very fond of June, but one of her is enough. She is, essentially, what you would get if Victor was a woman. And I’m also very fond of Victor, he’s like a second brother to me, but he is a shameless cad. I must assume that Rick is what you’d get if Victor had my brains.”
Rick laughs.
“Yeah, I’ve lost count of how many burp races I’ve pissed off by fucking their queen. Which reminds me…”
Rick tells Lu-Tze the story of how his latest relative was born.
“…Mate, that’s super nasty.”
“I burp know, right? Not letting Morty live that one down.”
Morty, on his way back to the veranda, notices Dot in the dodo pen, doing what she loves most of all.
“Are those dodos?”
Dot pauses from hugging one dodo to look at Morty.
“Yup. Am Dawt siwwy biwdie fwends.”
And then she goes back to hugging dodos.
These days, Dot double-checks to make sure that the dodo she is about to hug is actually a dodo.
The Death of Dodos doesn’t mind Dot hugging him, but he’s got souls to reap on Primal Earth, and doesn’t have all day.
While those Deaths who reap species only still extant on Primal Earth are ostensibly retired, in practice, they’re more like the retired boss who drops in “just to see how things are going” so often that they might as well have not retired in the first place.
Back at the veranda, a green portal opens, and Victor steps through.
“Pierre. We spotted some more of that A.S. graffiti in Portland. I already told Cal, but I think you should know too.”
“Oh dear. And still no leads on what it means, or who’s doing it, Victor?”
“Nope, and you wouldn’t believe how much that pisses me off. Usually, we’d have tracked the bastards down by now. But Portland’s another area known for banning fluffy abuse. So there’s definitely a pattern, Miles was right about that.”
Rick looks at Victor.
“You guys are getting a lot of use out of my portal gun. Y’know, I gave you that thing so Cal could burp get to the Citadel. I wasn’t expecting you guys to reverse engineer it. The Federation of my world couldn’t do that. You’d better hope they don’t find out belch that you guys have my portal tech too.”
Pierre chuckles.
“Well, it started as Val just trying to make the portals bigger, then she… kind of sort of ended up doing a full examination. She was so fascinated by your tech, she couldn’t help herself.”
“I’m just saying, I’m very protective of my secrets, and giving away my portal gun belch like that is something I never do. I only gave you that gun because those criminal Calvins were burp going to destroy the entire multiverse, and all of my shit is here. The old jump ship to a new timeline trick don’t work if there’s no other timelines to jump to. But that’s on me. I didn’t tell you guys you had to give it back, the damage has been done. Just belch promise me one thing.”
Pierre nods.
“What is it?”
“If any goddamn Gromflomites show up asking about the portal tech, tell 'em to burp fuck off. You can’t miss 'em, they’re bug people.”
Victor grins.
“Ah, leave that to me. I can be very persuasive.”
Victor and Rick fought once in the past.
Like Victor’s fight with Samuel the specialist, not to be confused with Samuel the angel, it ended in a draw, and Victor and Rick got high together afterwards.
As has been said, Victor has made many friends that way.
Morty walks over to the veranda.
Lu-Tze, now knowing about the fiasco Morty’s teenage libido caused, is unable to look Morty in the eye.
“Hey Rick, have you seen those dodos yet?”
“Oh yeah, dodos, waaaay more impressive than burp anything in our world.”
Pierre chuckles again, rolling up another joint.
Rick totally bogarted the last one.
“I used to have the problem of Dutch sailors trying to eat my dodos, but apparently those buffoons went through the portal to Primal Earth near here, and never came back.”
Rick looks curious.
“What happened to them?”
Victor answers the question.
“Based on what they were screaming at me when I ran into them during the Revolution, I’m guessing they got eaten by a T-Rex. They must have had some serious skeletons in their closets if they went Down There.”
Everyone laughs at the ignoble death those sailors suffered.
Blueberry, who overheard Victor’s explanation, stomps over in the Blaukörper.
“Nu wowee, Piewwe. If mowe sai-wows shu up, Bwuebewwy wiww scawe dem away fwom da doh-dohs fow yu.”
Pierre smiles at Blueberry.
“Thank you, Blueberry. I knew it was a good idea to let you keep that Stahlkörper.”
Blueberry salutes Pierre with a big blue metal hand.
Morty gives Rick a look.
“Hey, uh, Rick, I was w-wondering…”
“Lemme guess, you wanna burp get a fluffy.”
Morty nods.
And Rick shrugs again.
“Fuck it, why not? It’s not the worst thing we’ve brought home from another timeline.”
Meanwhile, somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, a ship sails towards America.
A ship flying the Dutch flag.
The captain turns to his second-in-command.
“Wij hebben echt in een lange tijd niks gehoord van die jongens. Denk je dat ze die dodos al hebben gevangen?”
The second in command shrugs.
“Ze zouden ons laten weten, Kapitein.”
“Je hebt gelijk. Maar als zij niet de dodos kunnen vangen…”
The captain looks off into the distance.
“…dan vangen wij ze wel. Oh, het gaat smullen worden.”