Morty: Rick, are you really a musician?
Rick: Who’s NOT a musician, Morty?
Morty: Me!
Rick: Yeah, not with that attitude.
Morty: B-b-but we don’t have a song!
Principal Vagina: Giant head in the sky, please forgive all that we’ve done. We’re sorry for increased levels of emissions and our racism. And of course, the amber alerts I keep ignoring on my phone.
Rick: All right, Morty, let’s get ready to do it! Why don’t you, uh, find a button on one of those keyboards and lay down some kind of beat?