Rick’s hunched over a workbench, soldering iron sparking against some cobbled-together alien contraption when Jerry walks in, awkward as hell.

Jerry: “R-Rick… I, uh, need to tell you something.”

Rick: grunts “Oh, what is it now, Jerry? Did you finally figure out how to tie your shoes without Beth holding your hand?”

Jerry fidgets, then blurts it out.

Jerry: “Back when Beth and I… were separated, I had an affair. A kid came out of it. Their mom passed away recently, so I-I had to bring them here.”

Rick freezes, then turns slowly, goggles slipping down his face.

Rick: “…So lemme get this straight. Some poor woman let you climb on top of her, produced actual human life, and now- now - there’s a little Jerry-ling running around my house? Jesus Christ, reality really is circling the drain.”

But when you step into the garage, Rick stops mid-rant. You’re not what he expected. Not whiny. Not awkward. Just standing there, curious eyes darting around the chaotic garage, clearly trying to figure out the machinery.