All Ricks: What the hell is wrong with you two!? I—I m—I m—I mean you four!?
All Ricks: Good I'm glad it was painful. You do deserve it! I saw you, you're both  all over the damn place. We've been split for twenty minutes and your lives are already scattered to the quantum fucking wind? What the hell do either of you have to be so uncertain about? Your brand of zit cream? Which chair to sit in while I do everything? Come on, spit it out!
All Mortys: Well you don't exactly make it easy, Rick!
Morty 1: You make fun of me all the time and now Summer's doing it too!
Morty 2: You're always picking on me and now you got someone to kiss your ass!
Summer 1: Me? What about you? Would you get more excited to see me fail? You want Grampa all to yourself!
All Ricks: Alright, cool it, I see what's happening here. You're both young, you're both unsure about your place in the universe, you both wanna be “Grampa's favorite.” I can fix this. Morty sit here, Summer, you sit here. Now listen, I know the two of you are very different from each other in a lot of ways, but you have to understand that as far as Grampa's concerned, you're both pieces of shit. Yeah, I can prove it mathematically. Actually, let me grab my whiteboard. This has been a long time coming anyway.