entranceway | [video] this is not a dance, morty

[It's Tiny Rick! Your favorite guy. That lovable teenage fucko. He's standing up on one of the beds and holding out his phone like he wants to take a selfie as he broadcasts, mostly so he can gesture at the camera with his free hand.]

Alright, li-listen up, preschoolers. I know ev-everyone wants to have fun in the Silent Hill lab with the pudding monsters, being children and what the fuck ever, b-but this is not all f-fun and games and endless disappointments from Konami. Dr. A and Frisk h-have explained this whole, the whole creepy lab and creepy pudding things, but I'm here to tell you about this kid bullshit. That's right, fuckos, we-we've got, got two goddamn simultaneous fucking events on our hands, and it's, it's complete fucking, it's bullshit. Tiny Rick was a fan-favorite, and we, we already fucking tempted fate enough with rehashing the whole stolen cable plot, but fuck it, I-I guess this is just how the network's gonna run things now. Grind it into the dirt t-till no one cares anymore, right? Fuck you. D-Do you have any idea how much Werner Herzog fucking costs?

[He's getting off track, so he pauses and clears his throat.]

I-If you've been turned into a kid, y-you are not in your right body. This is not the r-real me and it's not the real you either, but you're, you're gonna try damn fucking hard to convince yourself it is, because it's real fucking tempting to, to get your youth back and relive the glory days, lemme fucking, fucking tell you. But these are just c...cl...?

[He pauses, frowning, because what the fuck is the word for it?]

...Like, copies, genetic copies, or I dunno, magic--magic bullshit constructs, who the fuck knows with Wonderland. Point is, your real body is slowly dying in a vat somewhere in this lab. You gotta find your vat and transfer your consciousness b-back into your correct body, or--fuck, Wonderland might kill us or m-make us all go through puberty again. No one wants that. No one in the entire goddamn world wants that. Trust me, it's not worth it.

[As Rick's talking, something takes shape behind him. It looks kind of like a tall, white spoon. It doesn't really do anything, just sort of hovers translucently on the opposite side of the bed from him. When he pauses and glances back over his shoulder, the thing vanishes.]

Uh...so yeah. Avoid pudding monsters, f-find your vat, get back into your real body. And if you need help remembering that you're not supposed to be a kid, listening to Elliott Smith seems to work. I-I've got his entire discography on my phone.

[He pulls said phone away and plays himself off with a sad song.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[This is a very lovely song, Rick, but Dorian would rather enjoy it when he's not having to worry about dying!]

[As Rick can probably tell by the video, Dorian's currently trapped in a 13 year old's body. And, yes, after hearing his warning, he is now very concerned about fixing that.]

Rick, what did you do, and how on earth do you expect us to know how to "transfer our consciousness into our correct bodies," as you aptly put it?

[Oh boy it's this guy again.]

Obviously I-I created cl--genetic copies of myself so that I-I could transfer my consciousness into them before dying i-in an attempt to live forever, n-not that it's any of your f-fucking business.

There should be a peripheral on the vats that will l-let you connect electrodes to you and your r-real self's head, then you j-just hit a button. It's easy. Blue electrode on the left temple, though, th-that's important.

Trying to live forever, hm? I think we both know now there are easier ways to accomplish that.

[Like getting trapped in a place where time stands still, or selling your soul.]

Anything else I should know, like what the electrodes will look like? Not all of us has encountered 21st century technology of that sort, Rick.

Electrodes have existed for hundreds of years you dumb stupid fuck, but you were p-probably too busy partying to notice. Th-That's the major difference between you and me, I can p-party my fucking ass off and still be a genius.

They'll look like little plastic circles or s-suction cups with metal in the center, attached to some cables, d-does that fucking work for you?

[Hey, you don't have to be rude about it.]

... That's better, thank you.

Oh, by the way, I must force myself to admit you have a good taste in music.

Whatever.

[He sort of wants to tell him to fuck off and that forcing yourself to say something makes it completely irrelevant, buuuuuuut.]

.......Elliott Smith was a genius, it's true. Lyrically, musically. Incredible talent.

Is he?

[He actually sounds interested, for once.]

I'll have to obtain some of his records when this awful event is over... What do you use to store music these days, anyhow?

He was. Died way too young. He had a shit life, man--h-heroin, dysfunctional relationships, d-depression, the works. Goddamn shame.

[He tries to gesture at his phone, but it doesn't really work since he's just gesturing at Dorian.]

N-No one uses records anymore except hipsters. It's all digital, you just, you just put the off-brand Wonderland equivalent of Google Music on your phone, b-because fuck iTunes.

[The boy shakes his head.] Tsk, tsk, tsk. It's always a shame when we lose great artists like that.

[Dorian can just feel the irony tearing at him from the inside. Then again, that could just be his original body in distress somewhere.]

I'm going to assume that "hipsters" are 21st century bohemians. Regardless, I'll have to see to your suggestion after this mess is all over.

It's fucked. There is no god.

[Solemn headshake.]

Yeah, actually, c-calling them bohemians is, is pretty damn accurate. And fine, fuck, I g-guess I can send you a playlist if you be less annoying.

[Heh. You're the more annoying one, Rick, but there are worse things t worry about.]

Thank you.

[video] this is not a dance, morty

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Rare conversation alert!

like damn tho

no subject

no subject

no subject