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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 2 months later...

And here's the conclusion. Enjoy!

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Rick pulled the saucer up alongside the mysterious ship.

“Hmm, their hangar’s open,” he observed. “Bet they won’t mind if we drop in.”

Summer would have countered that claim, but her need for relief was too great for her to argue. She simply squirmed as they flew into the hangar and walked through the airlock.

 

The ship’s interior was dank and gloomy. Somewhere a burst pipe was leaking, taunting Summer with its’ dripping noise.

“Hello?” called Rick. “Captain or whoever? We nuh-need to use your bathroom. Or, more accurately, my granddaughter does.”

“Grandpa Rick!” cried Summer, holding her crotch and squirming worse than ever. It was taking every ounce of effort to keep more urine from leaking out. She knew she couldn’t hold on much longer and was starting to doubt they would find the ship’s toilet before the inevitable happened.

 

“Don’t worry, Summer,” said Morty, noticing her discomfort. “There’s gotta be a bathroom around here somewhere. After all, everything pees. Um, guess that’s not helping.”

“And you’re wrong as usual, Morty,” Rick added. “There are puh-plenty of species in the universe  that don’t take in water or-”

“Look!” Summer exclaimed, interrupting her grandfather’s rambling. There was a sign on the wall that was written in an incomprehensible alien script, but the male and female figures on it were unmistakable.

“The bathroom must be through this door!” She threw it open, then groaned in dismay. It was just another corridor!

“Hey, there’s another sign,” said Morty. “The bathroom must be through that door.”

No such luck. They were instead confronted with another corridor and another sign.

“Okay, this is getting ruh-ridiculous,” groaned Rick.

“I’m sure it’s right through this next door, Summer,” said Morty. “Summer?”

 

Summer didn’t answer. She felt the last of her strength give out and the floodgates open. Warm urine poured out of her with the force of a garden hose, soaking her crotch and running down her legs. Equal parts relief and embarrassment rushed through Summer as her bladder continued to drain. A glistening yellow puddle formed on the floor between her feet. When she was finally empty, Summer stood still, mortified at what had just happened.

 

“Aw, jeez,” said Morty after several awkward seconds. “Rick, do you have anything that- Rick?”

Rick was staring intently at a pane of decorative glass on the wall. Suddenly, he let loose with a roundhouse kick, shattering it. Summer gasped at what she saw: behind the pane was a small room! Inside the dingy room there were several desks with computers and monitors, bags of what she assumed was food, and numerous boxes of tissues. Seated at one of the computers was a pale alien with his back turned to them.

“Yes!” cried the alien. “Ooh, that was incredible! So glad I sprang for those fake signs.”

Only then did he seem to notice the sound of the shattering glass. He turned and let out a shriek of terror. He was mostly humanoid, but with smooth white skin, three yellow eyes and four scrawny arms, all raised in a gesture of surrender.

 

Rick advanced towards the alien, portal gun drawn.

“Okay, suh-spill,” he said. “Who are you and what’s your deal?”

“Um, m-my name is Flim Gleepnork,” stammered the alien. “I write stories. Stories about, uh,  hot girls peeing themselves. A-and when she walked in, so desperate to pee, it was like a dream come true. It’ll be my best story yet!”

“That’s disgusting!” cried Summer.

“Hey, don’t kink-shame,” Rick chided her. “Still, I can’t just let you write about Summer, so…”

He reached into his coat and pulled out what looked like a bronze gun with a lightbulb at the tip.

“Jesus, Grandpa!” cried Summer. “You can’t just shoot him!”

“Relax,” said Rick, “it’s not a gun. It’s a memory eraser I *urp* borrowed. Speaking of, Sixer probably wants it back… Anyway, I’m just gonna erase the last hour of his memory. You’re welcome.”

 

Over Flim’s protesting, Rick fired the memory eraser. A beam of blue light engulfed Flim, leaving him with a glazed look in the eyes.

“Did it work?” asked Morty.

“Obviously it worked, Morty,” snapped Rick. “However, I muh-might have erased just a bit too much. Like, maybe a year. Anyway, let’s just get out of here before he comes to his senses.”

The three of them headed for the exit, Summer soaked and thoroughly miserable.

“Aw, cheer up,” said Morty, noticing her distress. “We’ll get you a fresh pair of pants as soon as we get home. And no one else will ever know this happened.”

“Thanks to me,” added Rick. Summer smiled despite herself.

“Thanks, guys,” she said.

 

“I wonder, though,” said Morty. “Who would write a story about my sister wetting herself?”

“Probably some luh-loser who can’t get laid and jerks off to underage anime schoolgirls,” Rick replied.

“Man, that’s harsh,” said Morty.

“And oddly specific,” added Summer. “But I think the real question is who would read it?”

A look of panic crossed Rick’s face.

“Um, I dunno,” he said hurriedly, “but I’m sure they’re all wonderful, wonderful people! Okay, story’s over, bye everybody!”

“Grandpa Rick, what are you-”

“I said bye! It’s over! This is-”

 

THE END

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 I debated putting in a post-credits scene to further imitate the show, but I couldn't think of a good one.

 

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