Rick saunters into the living room and sits on the couch. He takes out his flask and slurps a long sip. “Burrrrppp. Well, here's to another Burrrrrpppp Monday.” Rick looks over at Morty and says, “What day is it?” “You just said it Rick.” replied Morty. “I know what I said. What is the number? Ya know? The stupid system named after Pope Gregory XIII (the 13th) when the Romans got tired of using the other one invented by the guy that killed his best friend.” Morty paid attention to Rick, but sometimes wished he was more black and white with his explanations of questions. “It's March 23.” Rick stared blankly at the inactive television screen and sighed. “Oh. Okay. I don't know what about today makes me feel the way your Dad does everyday.” Rick started to think back to that day where he almost killed himself.

I went to the garage, my laboratory, den, my man-cave stashed with asian ass porn. Where it all began and where it wasn't going anymore. I put together the machine, placed the red crystal in its cartridge, and put my head in between the transfer connectors. Right before that, I drank a decomp liquid that I previously poured on an alien creature found in my freezer. It sure did a number on that melted popsicle alien. In the end, I just couldn't go out that way. Fuck that.

Coming out of deep immersed thought, all Rick could hear was Morty saying over and over again, “Rick? Rick, are you okay?” Rick shook his head and drool fell down his shirt. Some of his spittle even sloshed over onto his lab coat. “Yeah, yeah Morty I'm here. Well, I'm about as here as most of the people in the Matrix. Blue or red. That's your choices in this life Morty. Finding out who is really pulling the strings or just keep playing the puppet. What's it going to be?” Morty looked down and shifted his eyes from left to right. He looked up and replied. “Aww jeez Rick. I don't even want to think about that right now. Are you sure you're okay?”
Rick walked off toward his glorified version of a Memory Pensieve that even Professor Dumbledore could be proud of. As he entered the room, Rick stared at all the scattered red, blue, and purple glass bulb cartridges all in a row on the semi-circle mantle taking up most of the room's space. Of course he knew where the emergency instructions and the “What if shit goes wrong” procedures were located at. No guesswork there. At the bottom of the narrow space next to the door was a drawer conveniently labeled “DO NOT OPEN FOR ANY REASON!” Warning labels never stopped Rick. Convenient labeling did not help much either. Rick curiously attempted to open the drawer. It was locked to his disappointment.
“Well, fuck.” Exclaimed Rick in a nonchalant fashion. Of course he knew it was genius to lock the drawer, but damn it, he couldn't quite figure out why. What Rick was about to do was probably going to seem desperate, but he didn't have a better idea on how to solve his problem. So here it went. “Morty, do you remember me locking this drawer?” Rick glanced over at Morty not really expecting a half decent answer to come out of the kid's mouth. “Aww jeez. Nah Rick, I don't even remember that drawer being there. Maybe it just showed up out of nowhere, like it appeared from an alternate dimension.” Annoyed and slightly miffed at what he thought was the stupidest explanation he had ever heard, Rick bolted back with a reply. “Why would a mysterious drawer just show up out of nowhere? Hmm? This memory room is under serious security as is. If there was anything different in this room, I would know it.” “Well, maybe you're just getting old Rick and forgot that you put the drawer there. Maybe some alien slipped you a roofie so you would forget the event of the drawer being placed in the memory room had never happened. There must be a good reason for the drawer being locked if you don't even remember Rick.” Morty rolled his eyes and that only made Rick more peeved. At this remark, Rick leans in to make a pointing gesture toward Morty's tensed up face. “Okay. Listen here you sack of prepubescent scrotum semen that should have been swallowed. This is MY memory room. So, I'm going to find out what is in this stupid drawer even if it takes all damn season.” “Aww... Come on Rick! Can't we just watch some Ball Fondlers 3: Scrotumator's Reckoning or play Minecraft?” For a brief five seconds, Morty actually believed that Rick was going to recall his plan by pretending to be Indiana Jones attempting to discover the treasures of the Lost Ark. What Morty didn't realize is that when Rick Sanchez had his sights set on...well anything, there isn't much anyone can really do.
Rick took another swig from his flask and walked with intensity towards the garage. He was intrigued as to why he had no recollection of the mystery drawer and the wheels in his mind were spinning as to who or what could have erased the memory of the drawer's existence or who would want the drawer to remain a mystery.
While Rick was digging around, he could feel an odd, but unwanted presence. He felt as if this presence could possibly annoy him for the rest of his life. Rick didn't move as he leaned over an old cardboard box labeled "TIME TRAVEL STUFF" and listened closely to what noises were in his vicinity. All he could hear was the faint noise of mandibles chewing and digesting prey. Crunch... Crunch... Crunch... By this time, the unknown entity that was chewing and now made a sound to initiate swallowing, "Gulp." Rick had grown tired of the noises and casually turned around to investigate the source.
The mood in the room immediately turned to disdain when Rick was now face to face with a version of Jerry with his mouth gaping open in shock.

To be continued...

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