dmims Page 460
Page 460
The wheels were even four enormous, dripping zucchini! The hood held a bubbling glass jar filled with purple liquid.
There are several electrodes inserted inside.
"Cucumber...car?"
Ian felt that his vocabulary was not enough.
Rick skillfully pulled open a giant lettuce leaf, which served as the car door, jumped into the driver's seat—which resembled a hollowed-out pumpkin—and then the cucumber car made a "poof" sound, like farting, spewing out some green mist from the exhaust pipe before wobbling and levitating against the laws of physics.
I saw.
The cucumber flying car shot into the sky with a "whoosh".
It flew at an astonishing speed in a certain direction.
"Is this really technology?" Ian continued to observe through his telescope, his gaze silently following the observation, always maintaining a distant distance from which he would not be detected.
The cucumber car was extremely fast, and its flight path was completely unpredictable, occasionally making a right-angle turn or suddenly disappearing into the clouds, as if trying to escape Ian's gaze.
It worked.
Just as Ian was feeling somewhat helpless, the cucumber car descended from the clouds and landed in front of the high-rise building where Ian was, directly facing the courtyard of the villa less than a hundred meters away.
The hovercar, made up of glowing cucumbers and other food, resembled a giant, flying jar of pickles, making it hard to miss.
"..."
Even without superhuman vision, Ian could still tell that the house had a beautiful garden and a neat lawn, the only incongruous thing being its ridiculously large garage.
It was almost twice the size of the main house, and the garage door was tightly closed, with various warning signs posted on it such as "Danger!", "High Voltage!", and "No Entry Without Permission!"
Rick jumped off the cucumber cart.
He casually took a wine bottle from the car window, which was made of a large, transparent melon rind, and took a sip.
then.
He staggered, muttering incoherent ramblings, and plunged headfirst into the garage that seemed to hold all the secrets of the universe.
The garage door slammed shut behind him, completely shutting out the sunlight and warmth of the outside world.
The garage was a completely different dimension. Instead of any normal vehicles, it was filled with massive machines that gleamed with dangerous light, connected by twisted pipes, and emitted unidentified smoke and odors. The walls were covered with tools, blueprints, and various disassembled alien specimens.
Because Ian also has a cheat code.
His magic telescope could also see this scene.
“Yeah, here, here, I know now, which means I knew before.” Rick didn’t even turn on the light. In the darkness, he precisely found a workbench, grabbed a bottle with the “XXX” logo, took a big gulp, and then started hammering and tinkering with a half-finished thing that looked like a space armor.
Sparks flew everywhere.
The great scientist, more scientific than Tony Stark, was still talking to himself.
Just then, the garage side door was pushed open, and a bespectacled boy who looked somewhat timid peeked in. It was Morty, Rick's favorite grandson and a high school student.
“Grandpa…Grandpa?” Morty called out softly, trying to get attention amidst the deafening banging and roaring machinery. “What…what are you doing?”
Rick didn't turn his head, nor did he stop working, but his drunken voice came through with unusual clarity.
"Motty? Is that you, Morty? Hiccup~ We're going on an adventure today, do you remember, Morty? A great adventure! An adventure just for the two of us!" His voice was hoarse, with a heavy nasal tone, each syllable sounding as if squeezed out of a rusty pipe.
The references are songs sung by Jay Chou without subtitles.
"Today is our big day! An adventure! Remember, Morty? A real adventure! Not your boring, error-ridden teenage crafts!"
Rick looked eager to try.
"Adventure? What adventure? Damn it! Today is an adventure day, Grandpa, I... I still have history homework to do, about... about the Civil War..."
Morty was clearly somewhat resistant.
"The Civil War? Bah! What kind of bullshit history is that!" Rick whirled around, holding an energy core crackling with electricity, his face glowing with alcohol-fueled excitement and the gleam of a near-mad scientist. "Motty! I've found a great place! A truly exciting place! You know Apokolips? You definitely don't, Morty, your little head is only good for the color of Jessica's underwear!"
Morty's face instantly turned red: "Grandpa! I didn't!"
Rick ignored him completely, continuing to gesticulate excitedly: "Apokolips! Darkseid's lair! But now, Morty, good news! That stone-faced tyrant seems to have disappeared! It's a complete mess up there! There are superweapons lying around unattended, rampaging Parademons, and all sorts of amazing alien creatures you've never seen before!"
“We can go and cause a huge ruckus! And while we’re at it… hiccup… pick up some trash!” Rick hiccuped, and a strong smell of cheap alcohol mixed with ozone hit him.
"Apokolips?! No way! Grandpa! That's too dangerous! And I really have homework to do! It's due tomorrow!" Morty, who was clearly more knowledgeable than a normal middle school student, turned pale with fright.
"Seriously, there are so many... so many amazing animals, Morty! A million times more 'amazing' than the dinosaurs in your textbooks! You'll definitely love them after you use them once!"
"We have to go! Now! Right now! Go and pick up some good stuff! Maybe we can find Darkseid's spare remote control, that thing can control the entire universe's TV schedule!"
"Think about it, Morty, you can watch whatever you want from now on!" Rick suddenly lowered his voice, leaned close to Morty's face, and gave him a tempting, grandfatherly tone.
"I just can't finish my homework!"
Morty remained steadfast in his resolve, determined to study hard, get into the same high school as his goddess, then the same university, and finally have the same child together.
“Homework? Ha!” Rick scoffed, as if he had heard the funniest joke in the universe. He casually rummaged through a pile of trash on the workbench and pulled out a small device that looked like a TV remote, but with even stranger buttons. Without even looking at it, he pressed it in a certain direction.
"call out--"
next moment.
Ian noticed it too.
Several blocks away, at what should have been Morty's high school, the entire school building collapsed into ruins with a deafening roar, as if squeezed by a giant, invisible hand.
Smoke and dust rose into the sky.
It looked like a small mushroom cloud had risen!
Fortunately, no one was injured.
Even Ian was taken aback by this simple and direct solution. He knew, as expected, that he was still too young, and therefore sometimes his thinking wasn't so clear.
"Ugh~"
In the garage.
Rick let out a burp, listening contentedly to the distant sounds of explosions and commotion. He tossed the remote control aside and shrugged at Morty, who was dumbfounded and almost petrified.
"Look, Morty. Now you don't need to do your homework. Problem solved. Hurry up, stop dawdling, our adventure is about to begin again!"
“There’s no more Wubba Lubba Dub Dub! Now it’s just pure family time!” He said, not giving Morty a chance to react or protest, and grabbed his grandson by the collar.
Rick picked Morty up like a chick and scurried into another "spaceship" in the corner of the garage that looked like it was cobbled together from an old boiler, rusty pipes, and a few microwave ovens. The junk ship roared to life, spewing thick black smoke and green flames from its tail.
"Bang bang bang~"
The spaceship crashed through the garage roof and, at an almost suicidal angle, veering and hurtling at an extremely high speed, soared straight into the sky, disappearing outside the atmosphere in the blink of an eye.
On the high-rise building, Ian silently lowered his binoculars and let out a long, deep sigh. An unprecedented feeling of inferiority welled up inside him.
"Fortunately, the fact that he bombed the school shows that he still has some rationality and isn't just a complete madman." Ian accurately tossed the empty Coke can in his hand into the trash can in the corner of the rooftop.
The words have not yet fallen.
The space around him began to distort and fold, like a reflection on water being disturbed. The next second, his figure vanished completely from the rooftop as if erased by an eraser.
Only a few fallen leaves were left, stirred by the evening breeze. Time seemed to freeze for a few minutes. The rooftop returned to silence, with only the faint sound of the fire alarm triggered by the gas explosion at the school in the distance.
The firefighters gradually disappeared into the distance.
After a long time.
The trash can that Ian had thrown into the empty Coke can suddenly started ringing with a retro, static-filled telephone ring—"Ring ring~ Ring ring~".
Immediately afterwards, the lid of the trash can was pushed open from the inside, and a head popped out—it was Rick Sanchez, who should have already left Earth with his grandson for Apokolips!
He looked a bit disheveled, with a large bump on his head from being hit, and his hair was even more messy.
“Diane! I’m at work! A very important job! Why are you calling me during work hours?” Rick was holding the Coke can that Ian had just thrown away. While questioning his wife, his tone wasn't angry, but his voice was much louder.
"Rick, are you really going to work properly?" A woman's voice came from the can, filled with concern and a hint of doubt. She knew all too well that her husband wasn't the type to enjoy working.
“Of course, Diane.” Rick immediately adopted a righteous tone. “My work is very meaningful! Very… ethical! I’m contributing to social stability and employment! Because of me… the employment rate of superheroes has increased significantly in the last two years!”
"What I do is... yes! Structural balance between talent output and demand! Without me, many superheroes would be unemployed! The employment rate of superheroes has soared by 300% in the last two years! It's all thanks to me; I created jobs! I stabilized society! I didn't leave a single superhero unemployed at home!"
"Oh my god, just like I promised you, I really am doing charity!" Rick wondered if he could hide in a soda can next time.
He then used his eloquence to describe his crime training center to his wife, making it sound as if he had won the Nobel Peace Prize.
Diane, on the other end of the phone, seemed to be convinced, or perhaps she had long been used to her husband's ramblings.
"Okay... Anyway, I'm glad you're okay. By the way, the Broadway show is about to start. You promised to come with me and Beth. Do you remember your promise when you were drunk?"
"Come over here quickly."
Rick's wife started urging him on.
Perhaps she was the only one who could urge Rick on.
"Broadway? Ugh—those guys in tight suits lip-syncing on stage? It's mental pollution! I'd rather go home and watch Interdimensional Cable..." Rick said, but he still climbed out of the trash can.
"A bunch of monkeys in ridiculous costumes singing and dancing on stage, telling utterly boring fairy tales full of false hope? What a waste of time! What a waste of life! A living example of entropy increase!"
Just as Rick was rambling on and on, the Coke can in his hand suddenly emitted an abnormal burst of light, like a bouncing bomb.
boom! !
With a muffled thud, the can exploded! Although not very powerful, it was enough to cover Rick's face in soot, make his hair stand on end, and send up plumes of smoke.
"Cough, cough, cough!"
Rick coughed, choking on the syrup, which dripped down his eyebrows and beard.
"Rick?!" Diane's panicked voice came through the phone. "What's wrong?!"
Ke wiped his face, roughly removing the syrup and crumbs, revealing a forcedly composed expression. He spoke into his phone, his voice regaining its nonchalant tone.
“It’s nothing, it’s nothing, just a minor accident!” Rick looked around, his eyes sweeping over the edge of the rooftop. “I ran into the new governor, Diane. He gave me some gifts.”
"What new governor?"
"You know, as I told you last time, the old governor is a complete scoundrel, corrupt and utterly unethical. I'm trying to find a way to remove him from office!"
"This is...this is a necessary sacrifice!" he said, as he took out a spray bottle, sprayed it on his face, and looked completely refreshed.
There were just a few rotten vegetable leaves still clinging to his body.
"Wait for me! I'll be right there! Give me five minutes... no, three minutes!" After saying that, Rick didn't wait for a response and threw the shattered can back into the trash can.
He looked around, then pulled out several barely recognizable parts, a battery, and half a tube of mustard from his pocket. He immediately squatted down and began kneading the mixture by hand. In less than ten seconds, a rudimentary jetpack, emitting sparks and the smell of mustard, was complete!