“Flembark’s Night Off” is a short speculative script for the show Rick and Morty, written with the intention of emulating a distinctive style and demonstrating creative flexibility.
Below is an excerpt, or you can download the full script here: “Flembark’s Night Off.”
INT. GARAGE LAB – EVENING
RICK SANCHEZ fiddles with a weird sci-fi syringe, flicking it twice. His face is shrouded in shadow, with faint light illuminating him from behind.
RICK
This…geez, haven’t used it in forever.
He presses down on the plunger a few times, inciting a surprising number of noises from it and even a few lights.
RICK (CONT’D)
A bit delayed.
(beat)
Whatever, not like it really matters, considering–
JONASIN (O.S.)
(wailing)
Please, you don’t have to do this!
Rick rolls his eyes, turning to face JONASIN, an alien with an appearance on the subtler end of the “phallic monstrosity” spectrum, who is currently strapped to what looks like it might have been a ping pong table at some point.
The room is dark, save for the one dim light above Jonasin.
RICK
Watch me. And, not that you’ll have the chance to take advantage of my excellent advice, but interrupting the person who has you strapped to a table? Not the best play.
JONASIN
(comically overplayed)
I’m sorry, I just don’t wanna die, please, you have to understand!
RICK
Well duh. No one wants to. And yet, most of us end up doing it.
JONASIN
But–
RICK
Oh, calm down. I’ve bitten it plenty of times. It’s not that bad. Better than–
The overhead lights switch on suddenly, causing Rick to flinch.
MORTY
(annoyed)
Rick, could you please keep it down in–
JONASIN
Oh, thank God!
Morty hardly even seems shocked; more just tired. Rick blinks repeatedly, shielding his eyes.
RICK
Geez, Morty, warn a guy next time.
JONASIN
Please, child, this lunatic plans to kill me!
Morty does not acknowledge him.
MORTY
(to Rick)
I thought Dad talked to you about keeping aliens here?
RICK
I thought we agreed your Dad was a complete idiot.
MORTY
Rick, you know that’s not my point.
RICK
Yeah, well, whatever you wanted your point to be, it doesn’t matter. I’m not keeping him here.
Rick gesticulates vaguely with the syringe.
MORTY
(with building dread)
Rick, what is that?
RICK
It’s a plasma vacuum. Well, improvised. Sucks targeted cell types out of a vi–subject’s body. This one’s specialized to target this guy’s plasma.
He pats Jonasin’s stomach proprietorially.
JONASIN
I have a name, you know!
RICK
Which is?
JONASIN
Jonasin.
RICK
You call that a name?
MORTY
Rick!
Rick tinkers with the settings on the syringe.
RICK
(annoyed)
Yeah, what, Morty?
MORTY
You can’t kill someone in my parents’ garage!
Rick pauses his tinkering.
RICK
You don’t know that this will kill
him. You’re making an assumption based on ignorance, and I find it offensive that you would think so little to me as to have murder as your first guess.
MORTY
Will that thing kill him?
Rick continues fiddling with the settings.
RICK
Yes, but I find it offensive that
you just assumed that.
MORTY
Yeah, well, I find it offensive that–that you would…uh, go behind my family’s backs like that.
Rick stares at Morty in judgmental silence for a moment as the boy tries to appear confident in that line.
RICK
(deadpan)
Wow, Morty. You been thinking on that one for a while, huh?
Morty glares at him.