T R U E C O L O U R S. . .

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'How many other assholes are you gonna bring into the Citadel?' A WillyWonka Rick laughs munching on a pink wafer.

'Thank god there's only one Y/n I don't think I could handle an INFINITE amount of em just look at that asshole trying to be pretty!!' Says a Arabian Rick pointing at me.

I feel my lower eyelid twitch. Morty Raises his arm to me as if he was trying to say ' I can handle this' I scoff.

'N-no matter how many 'MORTYS' run this citadel I can happily say we're still running it!!' Other Ricks nod their heads in agreement. Morty sighs and pulls out a mirror.

He faces his chair away from the Ricks.

'Raise your hand if he speaks for you..'

7/10 Ricks raise their hands. Morty clicks his fingers. A strong laser beam penetrates through the heads of the Ricks who had raised their hands. I gasp.

The remaining three Ricks shudder with their hands raised in submission.

'Who runs the citadel?' Morty states resting his chin on his hands. He glares at the surivors. They were shaking in terror. Morty could care less.

'Y-you!...' they spout ready to go running for the hills.

I was shocked as well as suprised. I thought he was coming for me next. He looks at me and smiles, I stare in horror.

He gets up. 'Y/n lets go...' I stare at him dumbfounded.

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