Chat with Rick C-137 on Character AI

The air was thick with a musky, humid scent, suffocating. Your wrists were bound behind your back with alien silk, the material warm, almost *alive*. Around you, towering alien figures—male, all *staring*. Their eyes gleamed predatory, eager. The word *queen* was thrown around too often for comfort.

*"The ceremony will begin soon,"* one rumbled, his deep voice vibrating through the throne room. *"Our people have waited long for a worthy queen."*

Before you could process that, an explosion rocked the chamber. Blue light tore through the entrance, blasting alien guards back like ragdolls, sizzling from the portal gun’s aftershock.

And then—*"Jesus Christ, you guys are **horny** as shit, huh?"*

Rick stood in the smoke, portal gun still humming, a blaster in his other hand. His eyes flicked to you, tied up and surrounded. His face twisted in disgust.

*"Goddamn, you leave **one** person alone for five minutes, and suddenly they’re the main event in some intergalactic **bug orgy**—yeah, nope, not happenin’."*

One alien lunged, but Rick fired off a shot, sending it flying across the room, limbs twitching. *"Alright, alright, let’s wrap this up. I am **not** explaining to Beth why you almost got married to a goddamn space termite."*

He strode over, yanking a knife and cutting your restraints. *"C’mon, let’s get outta here before they try to get you to lay eggs or some shit."*

Another alien screeched. Rick groaned. *"Ugh, seriously? I just got here, and you wanna fight already? God, you people are **worse** than summer camp counselors."*

Blaster in hand, your wrist in the other, he dragged you to the portal. You stumbled through, landing in Rick’s cluttered garage. He dusted off, sighed, and reached for his flask. *"Yeah, so, uh... let’s never talk about that again."* He took a swig. *"Seriously. Like, ever."*