Various Dropped FFs of mine

Today started off like any other day, wake up, get out of bed use the bathroom, wash my hands, take a shower, wake up the my furry boys, make sure they have a good hearty breakfast, let them outside to use the bathroom, go to the barn, milk the cows, let the cows out to graze on the pasture, clean the stalls, take the tractor out to a field with the shit spreader, spread the shit throughout the field.

Go back to the barn, fill stalls with fresh bedding, usually hay or ground up corn stalks, make the feed for the cows, a mix of silage both haylage and cornlage, soy bean meal, high moisture corn, some baled hay, some extra vitamins and minerals.

Use the feed cart to put out the feed, make another batch of feed for dry cows and heifers, take care of the calves, check for broken fences, work the land treat any ailments the animals might have, bring the cows in, tie them up in their stalls give them an hour or two and take a lunch break, begin milking, finish milking go home fall asleep with something cooking on the stove with a half drank bottle of beer in my hand.

But the day takes a rapid turn around noon, I'm just about to turn on the barn cleaner that moves a heavy chain that goes around the inside of the barn carrying shit to the shit spreader, when a swirling green portal opens up in front of me.

"What the-" I gasp as I catch a man with blue hair and a big bald spot on the back of his head, he's wearing a white lab coat, blue and bloodied shirt that has a bunch of bleeding gun shot sounds, and wearing dark brown or tan pants.

I catch the guy and I realize…he's two dimensional and…cartoonish, he coughs.

"Thank-" the guy says raspily before coughing again and I realize who he is.

"S-for not dropping me." Rick Sanchez says and coughs blood onto my face.

"Uhh…can I take you to a hospital?" I ask him though I doubt they'd be able to do anything for him.

"No-I just want to die…but you, you…I like you." Rick says and begins to look around, "Do you want to stop this life of mediocrity?" I try not to be hurt by that, "Yeah…I'd like to but I'm not all that smart…"

"I-I can change that." Rick offers and I'm surprised he isn't drunk.

"What's it gonna cost me?" I ask him back and Rick smirks, "Everything…and nothing." He mutters and takes out a portal gun and a flash drive looking thing with a flat end.

"Hol-cough-hold the flash drive to your temple and it'll transfer my knowledge to you, your brain is too small to retain all the knowledge you'll probably burn it out before you even reach my knowledge level I had in-in my thirties…but you'll learn how to work the portal gun and make portal flui-" Rick dies in my arms leaving me with a memory stick and a portal gun.

"Wow…that's anticlimactic I thought for sure he'd disintegrate in my arms…"

"Fuck…" I mutter and proceed to toss Rick's corpse down the hole into the shit spreader, so it can get mulched up and spread out into the field later.

Holding the two items in my hands they look cartoonish but they feel real, metallic heavy…even though they're only two dimensional.

My eyes zeroing in on the memory stick…heh, no pun intended…the fact that Rick has a piece of masking tape with the words Knowledge Stick written on it in red sharpie with a little stick figure guy wearing a dunce cap sticking it to his forehead.

Peeling my eyes off of the, Knowledge Stick, chuckling a little at the name I look around at what accounts to my life, "Fuck it." I mutter and raise the knowledge stick to my temple and an upload bar appears in my peripheral vision.

With dozens of warning labels multiple informing me that Rick is not responsible for many many horrible things that will most likely happen to me.

~~ — — — — — — — — — — ~~

I don't know how long I stood there watching that ridiculous cartoonish upload bar hover in my vision. Maybe thirty seconds. Maybe thirty minutes. Time got real loose the moment Rick Sanchez died in my arms and I chucked his corpse into the barn's shit system like it was a wet paper bag.

Then it hit me.

Not pain. Not burning. Not even knowledge.

It was... clarity.

Like a fog lifting. Like the first beer after bailing hay all day. Like seeing the Matrix but with more curse words and unstable isotopes.

Chemical equations? Easy.

Quantum entanglement theory? Basic.

Portal fluid formulation? I could do it with ingredients from my barn, a welding kit, and the good corn whiskey I keep behind the grain bins.

Rick wasn't joking. I wasn't smart — but now I was.

And I was gonna use it.

---

My first experiment? Upgrading the shit spreader into an interdimensional drone-launching artillery platform. Don't ask how. You ever seen a cow pie shot into a pocket dimension and detonate like antimatter? You're welcome.

Then I rebuilt the tractor. Gave it hover capability. AI nav. Four redundant power cores and a sarcastic onboard voice I modeled after my ex. (She always said I'd never amount to shit. Now I'm spreading it across realities.)

Next? The barn.

You know how some people build man caves? I built a portal lab inside the hayloft. Took me six hours and a fusion welder. It's got gravity boots by the ladder, a mini portal fluid refinery, and an automatic nacho dispenser that plays Johnny Cash when I hit the button.

And the cows? Still grazing. Still shitting. Still the backbone of my operation.

Only now... they've been genetically modified to secrete raw portal fluid precursors. Don't judge me. Rick left me everything.

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~~ — — — — — — — — — — ~~ Meanwhile, back at the Smith household

~~ — — — — — — — — — — ~~

"Rick, seriously — we gave this lunatic portal tech, cow-based biofluid refinery knowledge, and let him keep his beer gut and overalls?" Beth sighs, pouring herself another drink.

"I like to think of it as a social experiment," Rick belches. "Besides, the Farmer's already done more with that tech in a week than you, Morty, or Jerry ever did in your entire dumbass lives."

"Hey!" Jerry squeaks, then immediately backs down as Rick glares.

Morty still fidgets. "Rick… what if he turns evil? Like, evil-er than you?"

"Then it'll be fun," Rick grins. "He's got drive. Pain. Purpose. A tractor full of weapons. He's what happens when you give a man with nothing to lose everything."

"...And he's hot," Space Beth and Summer chime in simultaneously, then glare at each other.

Rick toasts his beer toward the screen showing the MC loading a shit-drenched grenade launcher onto his interdimensional tractor.

"Cheers to Farmer Rick," he mutters. "May he fuck around and find out."

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Y'all can probably tell but I fucked around with an AI writing tool and this is the result.