Rick glanced at me with that look he gives when he's half-listening—which, for Rick, means he heard everything but has already decided he's going to do the opposite. "Yeah, sure, Richard," he said, flipping the stone between his fingers. "Let me just extract the energy with my bare hands since I'm a goddamn expert in magical extraction techniques."
I sighed. "We're both geniuses. You know that's not how this works."
"Maybe it doesn't work for you," Rick said, grinning. "But you're not me." And with that, he pointed the stone at the wall and shouted, "Alakazam!" Nothing happened.
I crossed my arms. "Wow. Captivating work there, Rick."
Rick scowled and shook the stone. "Huh. Maybe it's out of juice."
I raised an eyebrow. "It's glowing."
Rick ignored me and pointed it at Jerry. "Alright, let's try a control test. Hey, Jerry, stand still. Jerry immediately screamed and tried to run—but, you know, it's Jerry, so he tripped over nothing and landed face-first on the floor. Rick shrugged. "Eh, good enough."
Before I could stop him, Rick held up the stone and said, "Turn Jerry into gold!"
The stone pulsed. Reality hiccupped. Jerry screamed. And then— BAM. Instead of gold, Jerry's head elongated like some grotesque balloon animal. His eyes swirled like he'd just been spun around on a carnival ride. His mouth flapped open as he began emitting a sound somewhere between a scream and dial-up internet.
"Oh, shit," Rick muttered.
"Oh, shit?" I repeated, stepping back. "Oh, shit?! Fix it!" Fuck, if my mom were to see this then it's my funeral. Rick always gets me into trouble; why does he always do that?
Rick scratched his head. "Yeah, that's… that's not supposed to happen."
Jerry's head started growing—his entire face stretching like a Salvador Dali painting. His eyes bulged, his nose tripled, and his aouth spiraled inward like some eldritch portal. Rick sighed. "Okay, okay, uh… Reverse!" The stone pulsed again. Jerry's head immediately shrank down… except now it was cube-shaped. Fucking hell happened, wait this is not suppose to be happening. Of course, as you would have it, Jerry started to freak out.
"OH GOD, WHY AM I A CUBE?!" Jerry screamed, his voice echoing from his cubic mouth.
Rick tilted his head. "Huh. Interesting."
"Interesting?!" I shouted and grabbed him by the collar and said, "You just turned Jerry into a walking Tesseract! Rick, if mom finds out about this, we are dead. Like dead dead."
"Relax, you're overreacting. How is he going to find out? We just need to transfer his consciousness into another body." Rick said, putting his hands up.
Rick flicked the stone again. Jerry's cube head turned into a cone. Then, a pyramid. Then, a perfect sphere. Then it rapidly cycled through 37 different shapes before finally settling on a perfect replica of Rick's head. Jerry screamed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
Rick grinned. "Hah! Hey, Jerry, congrats—you finally have my good looks!"
I immediately said, "Rick, I didn't know you had such…exquisite fantasies about mom. It is kinda gross, not going to lie, hehehe."
"What?" Rick yelled "That fucking gross, god dame Richard. Easy on the porn, what have you been watching? Incest on that level is carzy."
"I agree with rick, What the fuck are thinking saying something like that Richard?" Jerry said
"It isn't called incest; it's called keeping the royal bloodline pure," I said with an evil laugh in the end.
"Holy fuck, For the safety of this world let's not divel into that anymore" Rick said banning any mention of that dark joke, meanwhile I coughed to get his attention back on jerry. Rick sighed, flicking the stone one last time. Jerry's head snapped back to normal with an audible pop. He collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.
"That… was the most traumatic experience of my life," Jerry wheezed.
Rick patted him on the back. "Eh, you'll live."
I rubbed my temples. "Okay. This thing doesn't work like a genie lamp. You need to figure out how it works before you melt someone's face off."
Rick frowned. "Alright, fine. I'll analyze it."
I narrowed my eyes. "Promise?"
Rick smiled. "Scout's honor."
I stared at him. "You were never a scout."
Rick's smile widened. "Exactly."
I sighed and sat down on the couch that I had put in the garage. "Alright, let me run some scans on it. Maybe I can figure out why it's so unstable." Rick plopped onto the floor, legs crossed, and handed the stone to me. I pulled out a handheld scanner I'd built last week for reading exotic energy signatures and waved it over the stone. The device immediately overloaded and exploded in my hand.
"Huh," Rick said. "That's probably not good."
"You think?" I shouted, brushing the smoke off my hand. "The energy signature coming off this thing isn't from this universe—or any universe. It's like…"
Rick leaned forward. "Like what?"
"It's like it's from a place that exists outside of existence."
Rick's eyes darkened. "Oh. Well. That's probably fine."
"It's not fine!" I snapped. "This thing could unravel the fabric of reality. The energy it's giving off doesn't match any known pattern—it's chaotic. Like it's… alive."
Rick stared at the stone thoughtfully. "Neat."
"Rick," I said, looking him in the eye.
Rick stood up and tucked the stone into his coat. "Relax, Richard. I got this."
I stood up, glaring. "Rick, this isn't some interdimensional slot machine—this thing is dangerous."
Rick shrugged. "Yeah. So am I." Before I could protest, Rick pulled out his portal gun and shot open a swirling green portal.
"Where are you going?" I demanded.
Rick grinned. "To figure out how to make this baby work."
I reached out to stop him, but Rick was already through the portal. It slammed shut behind him. I sighed and turned toward Jerry, who was curled up on the floor, still shaking.
"So… good day?" I asked.
[Twelve Hours Later]
The last 12 hours were the most peaceful and yet the most anticipated movements in my life, after I think hour 2. I decided to channel all this energy into creating more tech, which can help me later on. Right now, I am half-asleep on the couch when Rick's portal gun suddenly hums to life. A green portal spiraled open, and Rick stumbled through it, looking wrecked. His hair was smoking, and his coat was singed.