[ EU ] A day in the life of Dr. Richard Sanchez , a quantum physics professor who often wonders what his life looks like in alternate dimensions

`` All gone.'' 
 
 Dr. Sanchez looked through one side of the bottle, through the other side, through the large plate glass window of his comfortably stuffy and academic office, and onto the darkened lawn of the U.C. Berkeley campus which had been his home for the last 9 years. He was referring to the bottle specifically, but he knew it applied more generally. Look at all he'd lost in his life. His wife, his research, his career, his grands- no! He stomped the thought out of his mind. 
 
 Of course, his career was n't over just yet, but he knew by the time the ethics committee was done with him his cushy and respectable position as Chair of Physics would be crushed down to teaching E & M 101 to undergrads, at best. 
 
 `` A student,'' he muttered. ( He'd taken to saying the most salient parts of his inner monologue aloud, a trait common in people as lonely as Dr. Sanchez now felt. ) He knew he had the eccentric charm to pick up 20-something girls at a bar, or if that failed he had the salary to pay for sex. But instead, he'd gone on one of his Las Vegas tears with his research assistant, and when things stopped being fun for her and started getting weird, she'd called a friend back on campus, and the dominos started to fall. `` What the fuck does my sex life have to do with science?'' he half mumbled, half shouted at the fuzzy outline of his desk. 
 
 But he knew he had n't done any real science at Berkeley, or at all since the accident. That was the turning point. That was when they finally convinced him to get his act together, to start taking Lithium. Three protons, four neutrons and three electrons were all it took to get him to trade sex, music, drugs, discovery, and experimentation for family, career, safety, renown, money, all that fucking bullshit. All pleasure is fleeting. Why not get it where you can, and devote the rest of your time to science? To something that will outlive all of us? 
 
 The drugs had led to the most stable and traditionally successful 9 years of his life. Then two months off them, and here he was. 
 
 `` All gone.'' 
 
 He'd been a failure. He'd compromised. He gave up real science, and he knew he was n't cut out for a normal life. What did that leave him? 
 
 `` NOTHING!'' he screamed at the desk as he collapsed onto it. 
 
 His last thought before passing out was a decision: as soon as he had the energy, he'd just end it. 
 
 *** 
 
 `` H-hey, uh, Rick?'' 
 
 Ricks eyes slowly opened. At first all he saw was the silhouette of a teenage boy against a backdrop of glowing, pulsing green coming from the hall outside his office. But then the face of the boy pushing his shoulder slid into view. Those eyes. He knew them. He had n't seen them in nearly a decade, but it was unmistakable. 
 
 `` Morty? H-how? I killed you, Morty! I fucking killed you!'' 
 
 `` Y-y-y-eah, I know,'' Morty shuffled awkwardly where he stood. `` I mean, I saw.'' 
 
 `` Wait, are you a ghost, Morty? Holy shit, are ghosts *real*, Morty? Are you here to haunt me?'' Rick picked up the monogrammed letter-opener from his desk and flailed it wildly in the direction of the specter. `` You here to haunt me, you little shit? I'll fucking cut you pr-uuuugh-toplasmic little bitch!'' 
 
 `` Aw, jeez, R-r-r-r-rick, I do n't think that's really n-n-n-necessary. I do n't even think you could hit me.'' Morty led his grandfather outstretched arm back down the the desk, where it stayed. `` No, I'm not a ghost. Uh, I guess ghosts are real, though? I mean, there's things out there kinda like ghosts, I'm not an authority on whether you could c-c-c-call them ghosts or not...'' 
 
 `` Jesus, Morty, that stammer. What happened? Did I do that to you?'' 
 
 Morty considered the question for the first time. 
 
 `` Well, if you're not here to haunt me,'' Rick said, `` why are you here?'' 
 
 `` We're here to help you. We normally do n't do this with the Ricks that do n't leave Earth, but you were k-k-kinda in trouble, and-'' 
 
 Cutting him off, he heard his own voice. 
 
 `` A Ri-urrrgh-ck is a terrible thing to waste.''
