A hair, Morty. I need one of your hairs. This isn't Game of Thrones.
Now who can tell me the common denominator of these two fractions? You don't know or you're just bored?
Hey listen, you know, if we're all bored over here, wouldn't the common denominator be you?
It's a serum that I need to, uh...to stay alive. I have...had a rough day, and, uh...I've sustained a lot of damage, I'm pretty close to death, which the serum will prevent.
Come on, flip the pickle, Morty. You're not gonna regret it. The payoff is huge. I turned myself into a pickle, Morty! Boom! Big reveal! I'm a pickle! What do you think about that? I turned myself into a pickle! W-what are you just staring at me for, bro? I turned myself into a pickle, Morty.
Listen, Morty, I hate to break it to you, but what people call "love" is just a chemical reaction that compels animals to breed. It hits hard, Morty, then it slowly fades, leaving you stranded in a failing marriage. I did it. Your parents are gonna do it. Break the cycle, Morty. Rise above. Focus on science.
Because I don't respect therapy; because I'm a scientist; because I invent, transform, create, and destroy for a living, and when I don't like something about the world, I change it. And I don't think going to a rented office in a strip mall to listen to some agent of averageness explain which words mean which feelings has ever helped anyone do anything. I think it's helped a lot of people get comfortable and stop panicking, which is a state of mind [belch] we value in the animals we eat, but not something I want for myself. I'm not a cow, I'm a pickle...when I feel like it.