About “Rick and Morty” in a few words:

Rick and Morty is an animated science-fiction sitcom created by Justin Roiland and Dan Harmon. The series follows the adventures of an alcoholic and eccentric scientist named Rick Sanchez and his easily influenced grandson Morty Smith as they travel through different dimensions and alternate universes. The show’s unique blend of dark humor, satire, and intelligent writing has garnered a massive cult following, making it one of the most popular adult animated series of all time.

Meet the evil-twin characters from Rick and Morty

Krombopulos Michael

Oh man, Krombopulos Michael is the happiest homicidal dude you’ll ever meet — he talks about killing like it’s a weekend hobby and smiles through the whole thing. He’s unnervingly polite, has a bunch of business-like checklists, and somehow loves a bargain (he’ll shop for weapons and also weirdly appreciates good packaging). He talks about “product” and “job” with the same glee, but you get the sense there’s a strict moral code? Also, tiny detail: I could’ve sworn he collects novelty spoons in the background of one scene, or maybe I dreamt that, who knows.

Scary Terry

Scary Terry is basically Freddy Krueger but with a heart — he’s razor-glove sharp, yells “bitch” like it’s a term of endearment, and stomps around people’s nightmares with giant, menacing swagger. Yet somehow he’s awkward in therapy, listens to sad music, and has this whole backstory of insecurity that makes him oddly sympathetic (which is horrible because he’s terrifying). He’s part villain, part tragic comic relief, and part late-night stand-up comedian who missed his cue. Also, he definitely owns a pair of fuzzy slippers under that cape — I’m 80% sure of this, don’t ask.

The Devil

The Devil is theatrical and oddly bureaucratic — like, theatrical in a red suit with a brochure about eternal deals, and bureaucratic because he reads clauses aloud like a loan officer. He loves bargaining and showy deals, has a dramatic flair for entrance music, and for some reason keeps a peppermint in his pocket one minute and then lights the room on fire the next. You can tell he’s petty and vengeful but also bored, which makes him dangerously creative — he’ll invent loopholes just for fun. Also, once I swear he tried to set up a talent show? No, really, it was theatrical.

Snowball

Snowball (Snuffles!) goes from adorably polite doggo to full-on canine mastermind with a power helmet and an army of very organized pooches — it’s a weirdly brilliant arc: soft, squee-worthy start, then ultra-serious leader vibes. He’s smart as heck, calls you by name with eerie formality, and has this surprisingly gentle way of saying “protect my family” while also drawing blueprints for revolution. He’s funny and sad at the same time; like, he wants safety but also dignity, and that helmet era was dramatic. Tiny random thing: he also really likes squeaky toys, which somehow survived as a personality trait even after the whole coup thing.

Monster Beth

Monster Beth is chaotic and raw and I love that she’s equal parts fierce protector and “what even am I?” — ugly and beautiful, soft and vicious, everything smashed together. She punches through expectations, roams around like she owns the place, and is intensely extra about proving she’s not a clone (or is she? who knows). There’s a melancholy undercurrent though — she wants to be seen as regular but keeps morphing into mythic levels of weirdness. Also, she probably has a favorite houseplant and will lovingly murder it and then apologize to it? Small, inconsistent vibes, but it fits.

Rick Sanchez

Rick is chaos with a lab coat, a genius who buries loneliness under whiskey and interdimensional sarcasm, and yes he invents things that make your brain hurt in the best possible way. He’s brash, dismissive, and ridiculously talented, but there’s this river of sadness and soft, messy care for his family that he pretends is just laziness — classic Rick. He flips between godlike confidence and tiny, quiet regret scenes, which is why he’s endlessly watchable; also he invents gadgets and yet loses socks like a normal dad. Little selfish, a lot brilliant, and somehow still the guy you can’t stop talking about.

Supernova

Supernova is flashy cosmic power and a tiny, relatable wreck at the same time — she’s got a sword that could vaporize planets and an emotional temperature that’s all over the place. She plays hero with style, but there are hints of insecurity and complicated personal stuff simmering under the cape; she’s heroic and also kind of dramatic about her texts getting ignored. She can be intimidating in battle but will turn into someone who texts “u up?” at 2 a.m., which I love. Oh and she probably drinks very specific iced teas and judges your playlist ruthlessly — that’s canon in my head.

The Eyehole Man

The Eyehole Man is the cereal mascot from your nightmares — creepy smile, a hundred staring eyes, and a jingle you can’t unhear for days. He’s absurdly cheerful while simultaneously making you feel watched, which is genius advertising if your goal is to haunt people forever. He speaks in jingles, lives in an ad, and will absolutely try to sell you something while judging your life choices with ocular intensity. Also, bizarrely, he knows origami? It’s weird but somehow fits the uncanny valley energy.

Evil Morty

Evil Morty is cold, calculating, and quietly terrifying — he’s the kid who learned to play chess with entire civilizations and smiled while flipping the board. His eyepatch is iconic but also a neat little lie-cover; he’s patient, long-game, and masterful at hiding his real plans under a blank kid face. He feels like the inevitable answer to “what if Morty stopped being small-time and started being smart like Rick only colder?” — and yes, he probably hums lullabies to himself too, which is oddly creepy. Also, he collects tiny bottle caps or something oddly domestic to keep him grounded? Don’t tell him I said that.

Fart

Fart is the most bafflingly mellow genocide-level being you’ll meet — looks like a floating purple Raphael energy cloud that sings like a pacifist and calls everything a “beautiful being,” and yet can vaporize planets in an offhand moment. It’s hyper-lovable and hyper-dangerous: chill philosophy one second, cosmic annihilation the next, and always with a poetic tone. It’s the sort of character that will hold a tea party and then rewrite your molecular structure — equal parts stoner philosopher and existential threat. Random quirk: insists on wearing tiny sunglasses in bright nebula light, because style matters, obviously.