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Summary
For weeks, Morty had been mulling over the drunken ramblings of his grandfather.
“It’s a disease Morty. A genetic disease. It’s already in you, Morty!”
At first, it had manifested in the form of existential dread. As many of Rick’s musings often did. The image of himself, keeled over a table with vomit seeping from his mouth plagued his nights. An image he could envision all too clearly from repeated exposure. Slowly, this dread had morphed into curiosity. Once one experiences enough existential terror they begin to approach it through a more scientific lens, certainly a side effect of the company he kept.
AKA: Morty gets drunk one time and Rick is deranged about handling it.