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Summary
“Let me get this straight."
Em rested his cheek on his hand and stared at Morty, who nervously pretended to be more interested in the paintings on the mansion’s walls than in his own evil version sitting across from him.
“You invited Jessica to your prom in a week, and you came here so I could teach you how to kiss, just to avoid messing up in front of her?”
“Ugh,” Morty clenched his fingers into the upholstery of the leather armchair. “Y-yes?”