Morty was actually very handy, and he even had a bit of artistic talent. After removing a light bulb, he smashed it, kept the metal base, tore the bedsheet into strips, wrapped them around it, and tied them tight. That made a spinning top.
He set the top on the floor and spun it, just like the movie had described.
Three minutes, five minutes, ten minutes—it kept spinning in place, with no sign of stopping.
"Rick, I'm sure now. I really am trapped in a dream."
"Anyone with normal intelligence could have figured that out in one minute, yet you wasted this much time?"
Although Deathstroke Rick complained, he did not sound angry. Welding noises came from the other end of the conversation, as though he was making something, before he continued:
"Fine. You weren't trying to pull off an inception anyway. All you need to do now is escape, so you know what to do."
"I understand, Rick. I'm a huge fan of Director Nolan. I know Inception and the Batman Trilogy inside out." Morty's gaze fell on the toilet in the corner of the cell. "This is a digital Limbo, and all I need to do is kill myself so I can return to the upper dream layer."
"Not bad. You've even learned to answer before being asked. Go ahead, then. Put on a show." As Deathstroke Rick spoke, the sound of drinking came from his side.
Once Morty learned the truth, he found his motivation. Rick might not have been by his side, but as long as someone told him what to do, that was enough.
He could not fight as well as his sister Summer, but he considered himself smarter than her.
He tightly balled up the remaining bedsheet, stuffed it into the toilet, then pressed