The bustle around the breakfast table was shattered by a gunshot. Rick held a smoking pistol, and across from him, "Jerry's brother Steve" glowed green, revealing his true form as a slimy parasite. "He's not your brother—just trash from our memories," Rick said while wiping his gun. But Beth, clutching the collar of Morty's suit, flew into a rage: "Dressed like a groom at 14? What on earth do you think you're doing?" Morty's rebellion and Rick's madness made the morning chaotic from the very start.
Rick sealed off the house with a ray gun and circled six names on a whiteboard—himself, Morty, Summer, Beth, Jerry, and a small yellow creature named Mr. Poopybutthole. "These parasites reproduce by implanting false memories," he tapped the whiteboard. "Anyone not on this list is prey." No sooner had he spoken than Mr. Poopybutthole mentioned "Cousin Nicky, who saved us all when we were stuck in the elevator." The next second, Nicky appeared at the door with a smile—only to be shot dead by Rick on the spot.
Beth had planned to discipline Morty while she had the chance, but the constant appearance of "family members" disrupted her. Recall a kidnapping incident, and a butler would appear with tea; mention a space adventure, and a mad scientist would storm in with equipment. All the memories woven by these parasites were pleasant ones: Sleepy Gary always stuck up for Jerry, even becoming Beth's "husband in memory"; the giraffe neighbor could fix pipes and tell bad jokes. Summer gradually indulged in this harmony, but Beth watched as her "husband" fussed over Jerry, a mix of emotions churning in her chest.
Amid the chaos, the parasites began to stir up trouble: "Only Rick is sowing hostility—he's the parasite!" Jerry grabbed a frying pan, ready to hit Rick, and Beth hesitated too. The "family" before her was warm and considerate, while Rick only brought trouble. Morty was pushed to execute Rick. In the garage, Rick erupted: "You forget I left you in a pile of crap on Mars? Or when I livestreamed your confession to Jessica to the entire universe?"
These harsh memories jolted Morty awake. "Parasites only create good memories!" He pointed the gun at the "childhood friend" who had just appeared. "You and I don't have any messed-up memories together!" A gunshot rang out, and another parasite revealed its true form. Rick grinned, and the grandfather-grandson pair charged back into the living room with weapons, declaring the rule: "If you can't tell each other's embarrassing stories, stop pretending to be family!"
Summer shouted, "Morty read my diary and rewrote it in alien language!" Beth snapped at Summer, "You gave the whole family pink eye!" Jerry sobbed, "Beth crashed my car into the lake after getting drunk!" Every awkward memory served as a pass. Parasites revealed themselves one after another amid the gunshots. Beth trembled as she shot Sleepy Gary. Watching Jerry break down, she suddenly realized: no matter how beautiful false warmth was, it could never compare to real bonds.
When the last parasite fell, only six people remained around the dining table. But Beth stared at Mr. Poopybutthole and suddenly pulled the trigger—"I can't remember any embarrassing things about you." Blood splattered on the cake as Mr. Poopybutthole groaned in pain: "I just... wanted to be a good neighbor."
In the physical therapy room, the whole family gathered around Mr. Poopybutthole in his wheelchair. A nurse handed over a note he had written: "Beth, sorry I only left you with good memories." Rick kicked Jerry's foot: "Next time, don't mistake alien bugs for relatives." But Beth looked at Morty and said softly, "Starting tomorrow, put that suit away—but I'll remember all your messes." Morty shrugged. Sunlight streamed through the window, falling on this "troublesome family"—warmer than any false memory.