SEATTLE, WA — A portal mishap stranded interdimensional scientist Rick Sanchez in a universe where his counterpart runs a thriving family therapy clinic with diplomas and a “World’s Best Therapist” mug. Forced to pose as “Dr. Rick,” he now dispenses empathy between burps while hiding in an office full of Harvard and Yale paperwork and motivational sunsets. The ruse collapsed upward when his family booked sessions. “It’s so therapeutic to have a Rick who listens,” said Beth Smith, as Rick nodded and soldered his portal gun under a clipboard. A colleague gushed, “Yesterday he said the Johnsons’ marriage was inevitable collateral of heat death; today he’s facilitating communication.” She praised his novel technique of repairing family systems while also repairing “some kind of ray gun.” Rick, meanwhile, prescribed “cosmic perspective therapy” and quoted fees in rare isotopes. Peak awkward arrived with Morty’s emergency session. “He gets the terror like he’s lived it,” Morty said. Rick stared at his hands and muttered about cosmic irony. Nearing escape, he sighed, “I accidentally learned healthy communication. I’m not going to use it.”