@copmcrty wants to fight a murder kiddo
“I can’t do that.”
It was his answer for everything when it came to the captive Mortys here at the Monolith. Just a short and quick ‘can’t do that’ and it normally sufficed for them. They’d go crawling back into their dungeons, curling up with the others. Did Mortimer feel BAD for them? Sorta. Did he BOTHER trying to help them?
No.
Not after last time.
If Mortimer wanted to get the upper hand on his Rick, he needed to be crafty. He needed to follow every order Rick gave him to a tee. mortimer needed to be the perfect little soldier that Rick wanted him to be. One that’s quiet and EFFICIENT. One that could be seen and not heard. Yeah. Mortimer could do that. He could do that and so much MORE.
The eleven-year old closes the cell, locking the door and keeping his face incredibly blank. He could still hear the Mortys inside begging him to let them go. To go back home to their families even WHEN their Ricks were dead now. He sighs.
“I can’t do that.”
