Rick was staring at Myra.

More specifically, his eyes were wandering over her exposed flesh with a primal yearning he had never experienced before. His sixteen-year-old hormones were certainly getting the better of him more and more as time passed.

Myra was wearing the latest beach fashion; a deliciously skimpy spotty bikini. Every time he glanced her way Brian Hyland's "Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini" played in his mind.

Myra was very clearly on the opposite side of the gender spectrum. Her body was blatantly developmentally different from his own. For a starters; she had breasts. Now despite being on the smaller size, in comparison to their female peers, Rick had become particularly fascinated with Myra's boobs. Maybe because he saw a lot more of them, compared to other women.

Something slapped him up the back of his head, seizing his attention. It was his father, frowning at him; though, his eyes were glimmering with an odd humour Rick had never seen before.

"Stop gawking, boy." Rod was shaking his head, "Girls don't like to be stared at, like that."

"I'm just surprised her mother let her out of the house, dressed like that." Rick said, loud enough for Myra to hear. He felt his mouth curve into an amused smirk as she glanced at him.

She gave him a bemused snort, "Please, my mother would've died before letting me even purchase this…" She gestured to the bikini, and tossed the frisbee towards Rick with her other hand, "No, this was another pacification present, from my father."

Rick had noticed she was sporting, yet another, black eye but hadn't been entirely sure whether it had been from their last, explosive, experimental failure. Her father was certainly getting more and more brazen with hitting her.

What his parents found bothersome, was that she seemed so completely unfazed by it. She seemed complacent to the abuse, and was more than happy to receive any 'forgiveness' gifts her father decided to present her with. One of the latest, was a new car.

Rick decided that Myra was a complete moron, in that matter, and had plans to intervene. Though, he wasn't certain how much longer he was willing to delay those plans. Myra was clearly in no mind to decide for herself; and her not being in the right mind would certainly throw their work schedule out of whack- he was certain.

His mother stepped past him, nudging him slightly, "Your father and I are going to head home now, are you right to drive Rick home, Myra, dear?" She smiled as she turned towards her.

Myra nodded her head, "Of course, Mrs Sanchez." She smiled back, "What time do I have to have him home by?"

"Please, you can keep him!" Rod let out an uncharacteristic chuckle in response and clapped her on the shoulder as he started walking towards the car. Even though his father hated most people, he clearly liked Myra.

Rick watched as his mother smiled pleasantly and touched Myra's shoulder gently, "You can have him as long as you'd like, sweetie." She gave a little wink as she wandered towards the car, after her husband.

Myra and Rick watched them get in the car and leave, waving to them as they disappeared down the road, the sun setting over the horizon.

It was only when the car was completely out of sight that Myra turned to Rick, "So… the beach is pretty lame." She was smirking at him, "Let's get the hell out of here."

Rick nodded absent-mindedly, trying his hardest to keep his eyes off her breasts, "Sure." She'd only get offended or make fun of him if he made direct eye contact with them. But he couldn't resist a momentary glance; or at least he thought it was momentary.

"You're really obsessed with these things, eh?" She chuckled at him, "geez, did you want a picture?" She punched him in the shoulder playfully.

Rick rolled his eyes at her, "Please, I-I've seen bigger jugs in those porno mags you keep stashed…"

"Mhmm…" Myra cut him off, clearly taking enjoyment in his reaction, "I suppose I can't keep my eyes off your..."

"Hey losers!" There was a voice from behind them, cutting her off. "Hey Myra why don't you join the football team; we hear you can out-throw Kevin!."

They turned and met the amused glances of some of the jock boys from their school. They were all the over-confident, asshole offspring of some of the most pompous citizens of town. The exact kind of boys Myra's parents would have creamed themselves over, for their daughter.

"Why don't y-you assholes just go fuck yourselves?" Rick said snippily, feeling annoyed.

"What's the matter, Sanchez?" one of the boys, David sneered. He flipped a fringe of blonde hair from his face, smirking back and froth between the others and them, "Can't your girlfriend speak for herself?"

"Oh I am quite capable." Myra interjected, folding her arms across her chest. Rick watched as the other boy's eyes focused on her cleavage, with the motion, "But I have a suspicion that you amoebas haven't the braincells to comprehend what I'd have to say." She said, and Rick swore he could hear her knuckles cracking.

The boys sniggered to each other, "What the hell are you talking about, you nerdy bitch?" David grunted in amusement.

He didn't see the kick coming. It landed with a powerful, swift force, which even Rick could feel reverberation from, despite him standing next to Myra. He instinctively covered his own groin, as though he could feel the pain himself.

David landed on the sandy ground in a heavy heap, letting out a loud cry of pain as his peers recoiled. HE was sucking in air, gasping like he was struggling to inhale. Myra started literally kicking the man, while he was down; her strong legs landing more mighty hits to his ass and ribs.

The other boys went to pull her away from their friend, but she smashed two of their heads together with a loud crack, and kicked the third in the stomach.

She snarled at them, "Let me put it in basic words you can understand, you imbeciles." She snapped icily, "Kindly go take your circle jerk elsewhere!"

"In other words: Fuck off." Rick added with an amused smirk.

The boys were writhing on the ground in pain, letting out grumbled moans as they cradled their injuries.

Rick and Myra turned away again, making their way towards the car.

"Y-you'd think, by now, everyone would know not to mess with you, Morty!" Rick snickered in amusement. He was glad to have someone, on his side, who could strike fear into most people with a single glance. She had dealt her fair share of bruises to dipshits, over the years.

Myra smirked back in response, "Clearly those morons are lacking the mental capacity and need to be reminded." She stated she thrust the keys into the car door, unlocking it with a single motion.

Rick climbed into the front passenger seat, flopping down onto the warm leather seats with a weary sigh, "undoubtedly."

Myra climbed behind the wheel, letting out a short grumble as she shoved the keys into the ignition roughly.

"Uh… everything ok, Morty?" He cocked his brow at her, feeling confused by her sudden change in disposition.

"Just…" She was gripping the steering wheel tightly, clearly feeling tense, before she let out an exasperated breath; her entire body visibly relaxing, "It's nothing."

It clearly wasn't 'nothing'. Rick started to eye her critically, "OK…" he muttered, feeling annoyed, and also simultaneously indifferent, "Do I need to say the phrase and make that neurological impairment chip do i-its thing or…"

"I…" Myra muttered another series of words Rick couldn't quite comprehend.

"Y-you what?" Rick cocked his brow at her.

Myra pursed her lips together, forcing a tense smile, "It's nothing…." She muttered, before starting the ignition and starting to drive.

Rick glared at her, wanting nothing more than her moodiness to evaporate. When she got angry and emotional, everything became unpredictable.

They drove in silence for a while, before the turn-off to the woods came up. Rick watched in anticipation as they came closer and closer, before they zoomed past.

"Uh… T-that was the turn-off, Morty." Rick frowned, jerking his thumb backwards.

"I know." Myra muttered, her expression blank, "I have… something… I need to show you." She said, her brow creasing ever-so-slightly.

Rick felt his eyes narrow as he glanced at her, trying to read her but she was being impossible. How could she go from being so happy, at the beach, to so cold and irritable?

They pulled into the entrance to her house, and she keyed in the security code; the gate opened with a loud buzz. The sun was sinking even lower on the horizon, casting everything in an eerie blackness as they pulled up outside of her house. Myra's expression had paled slightly, no doubt in fear from her parents berating her for bringing Rick to their house again.

She opened the garage door, and gestured for him to step inside.

He obliged, looking around the blank space with little interest, before he turned to her with a quizzical glance.

"W-what is so important that you…"

"Basement." She cut him off, gesturing to the door.

Rick cocked his brow at her once again, before turning to the door and gently opening it, feeling like they were about to commit murder.

When he opened the door and flicked the light on, he felt a large weight suddenly form inside of his stomach.

At the bottom of the stairs was a very dead Victor Mortimer.