Lawnmower Dog

Snuffles: Where are my testicles, Summer? Where are my testicles, Summer? They were removed. Where have they gone?
Summer: Oh, wow. That’s an intense line of questioning, Snuffles.
Snuffles: Do not call me that! “Snuffles” was my slave name. You shall now call me Snowball, because my fur is pretty and white.
Summer: Okay, Snowball, just calm down, okay? You’re scaring me.
Snowball: Scaring you? Tell me, Summer, if a human was born with stumpy legs, would they breed it with another deformed human and put their children on display like the Dachshund?

Jerry: You wouldn’t by any chance have some sort of crazy science thing you could whip up that might help make this dog a little smarter, would you?
Rick: I thought the whole point of having a dog was to feel superior, Jerry. If I were you, I wouldn’t pull that thread.

Jerry: You make that dog smart or Morty’s grounded!
Summer: Ha-ha!

Rick: It’s a device, Morty, that when you put it in your ear, you can enter people’s dreams, Morty. It’s just like that movie that you keep crowing about.
Morty: You talking about “Inception”?
Rick: That’s right, Morty. This is gonna be a lot like that, except, you know, it’s gonna maybe make sense.
Morty: “Inception” made sense.
Rick: You don’t have to try to impress me, Morty.

Rick: Listen, tonight we’re gonna go into the home of your math teacher, Mr. Goldenfold, and we’re gonna incept the idea in his brain to give you A’s in math, Morty. That way you can, you know, y-you’re gonna help me with my science, Morty, all the time.
Morty: Geez, Rick, in the time it took you to make this thing, couldn’t you have just, you know, helped me with my homework?
Rick: Are you listening to me, Morty? Homework is stupid. The whole point is to get less of it.

Mrs. Pancakes: You don’t know me!
Goldenfold: Nice, Mrs. Pancakes real nice.
Voice: Next week on “The days and nights of Mrs. Pancakes.”
Mrs. Pancakes: “You don’t know me!
Man: Then let me get to know yo, damn it!
Rick: Uh-oh! Spoilers! I’m a full season behind.

Rick: Allahu *burps* Akbar! We’re gonna take control of this plane! We’re gonna 9/11 it unless Morty Smith gets better grades in math! Hey! I said nobody move, buddy!
Goldenfold: The name’s not buddy. It’s Goldenfold. Nice to wheat you!
Rick: Take cover, Morty! Goldenfold’s got more control here than I anticipated. I mean, the guy teaches high-school math. I didn’t take him for an active dreamer.

Rick: If you get killed in someone else’s dream, you die for real, Morty.
Morty: What?! Are you kidding me?! Ohhhhhh!
Rick: Don’t be a baby! You avoid getting shot in real life all the time, Morty. Just do the same thing here, and we’ll be fine!

Jerry: Now bring me my slippers.
Summer: Now, be my footstool, Snuffles.
Jerry: This is what I’m talking about. This is a dog.
Beth: Oh, yeah. This should play out just fine.
Jerry: You said the same thing, equally sarcastically, at our wedding and guess what.

Jerry: I should call Bob Saget. Is that still a thing?

Morty: Oh, no, Rick, look! Goldenfold landed the plane, and he’s created a mechanical arm to pluck Mrs. Pancakes out of the air while he lets us fall into a giant vat of lava!
Rick: Pretty concise, Morty.

Rick: What’s the matter with you, Morty? Calm down! You’re kind of killing the vibe in here.
Morty: It’s Summer!
Rick: Aw, geez. Looks like Goldenfold has some predilections so shameful he buries them in the dreams of the people in his dreams, including a pervy attraction to your underage sister.
Summer: Can you blame him? Come on, old man, little boy. Let’s make an inter-generational sandwich.

Morty: What the hell? Why would Mr. Goldenfold’s dream version of Mrs. Pancakes’ dream version of a centaur be dreaming about a scary place like this, Rick?
Rick: Geez, I don’t know, Morty. Wha-what do you want from me?
Scary Terry: Welcome to your nightmare, bitch!
Rick: Oh, here we go!
Morty: Holy crap!
Rick: Looks like some sort of legally safe knock-off of an ’80s horror character with miniature swords for fingers instead of knives.
Scary Terry: I’m Scary Terry. You can run, but you can’t hide, bitch!

Scary Terry: Nothing but fear from here on out, bitch!

Snuffles: Where are my testicles, Summer? Where are my testicles, Summer? They were removed. Where have they gone?
Summer: Oh, wow. That’s an intense line of questioning, Snuffles.
Snuffles: Do not call me that! “Snuffles” was my slave name. You shall now call me Snowball, because my fur is pretty and white.
Summer: Okay, Snowball, just calm down, okay? You’re scaring me.
Snowball: Scaring you? Tell me, Summer, if a human was born with stumpy legs, would they breed it with another deformed human and put their children on display like the Dachshund?

Scary Terry: Buckle up, bitch!
Morty: Man, he sure says “bitch” a lot!
Scary Terry: You can run, but you can’t hide, bitch!

Snowball: You’re being very aggressive, Jerry. Perhaps tomorrow Dr.
scraps will solve that problem with a bit of surgery.
Jerry: You think you can control me with a haircut?

Morty: Hey, yo, scary T, don’t even trip about your pants dawg. Here’s a pair on us, fool.
Scary Terry: Aww, bitch.

Morty: Oh, man, what’s going on?
Rick: Well, it’s possible that your dog became self-aware and made modifications on the cognition amplifier, then turned on Jerry, Beth, and Summer after learning about humanity’s cruel subjugation of his species, but your guess is as good as mine, Morty.

Summer: I can’t believe how mean snuffles got just because he’s smart. This is why I choose to get Cs.

Rick: It’s like “Inception,” Morty, so if it’s confusing and stupid, then so is everyone’s favorite movie.

Jerry: It’s just like the end of “Old Yeller.”
Beth: Oh, Jerry. You mean because it had dogs in it.