About “Rick and Morty” in a few words:

Rick and Morty is a wildly popular animated series that follows the interdimensional misadventures of the eccentric genius scientist, Rick Sanchez, and his good-hearted but easily influenced grandson, Morty Smith. Created by Justin Roiland and Dan Harmon, the show combines sci-fi, comedy, and dark humor in a unique and imaginative way. With its complex storytelling, clever references, and thought-provoking themes, Rick and Morty has garnered a dedicated fanbase who revel in its offbeat humor and unpredictable plot twists.

Meet the characters from Rick and Morty

Rick Sanchez

Rick is basically chaos in a lab coat and I mean that in the best possible way — brilliant, arrogant, borderline sociopathic, but also weirdly sentimental sometimes (don’t tell him I said that). He invents the impossible, drinks like it’s an Olympic sport, and will deadpan a one-liner while stealing the galaxy’s weirdest trinket — and somehow he always has a spare gadget for any problem, including the ones he caused. He says he doesn’t care about anything (nihilism flex) but will throw himself into danger for the family… and then immediately mock them for it, which is classic Rick. Also he collects tiny screws and mutters to himself in the garage at 3 a.m., which is either genius or a cry for help, still deciding.

Morty Smith

Morty is the anxious, good-hearted kid dragged into interdimensional chaos and you feel for him — squishy moral center and perpetual deer-in-headlights energy. He’s stumblingly brave when it counts, forever crush-obsessed over Jessica, and somehow ends up a little more scarred after every adventure (emotionally and otherwise). He forgets things, says the wrong thing, and then surprises you with sudden clarity — like, often he’s dumb but sometimes he’s the only sane voice in a screaming multiverse. He hoards figurines for comfort? Or was that a dream — either way, Morty is adorably messy but human.

Summer Smith

Summer is the unapologetic teenage sass-bomb who wants respect and will kick down a door to get it, but also secretly checks her follower count — she’s complicated in the best teenager way. She’s practical, tougher than she looks, and can absolutely hold her own on a spaceship or in a high school drama, sometimes both at once. She craves attention but hates being treated like a kid, and she’ll flip between brutally honest and oddly sentimental in the span of a single sentence. Also she collects weird dead things for aesthetic? Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t, but she definitely has a solid eyeliner game.

Beth Smith

Beth is sharp, painfully competent (horse surgeon, for heaven’s sake), and carries this huge quiet ache from being Rick’s daughter — proud but also raw about it. She swagger-talks her way through professional confidence while in private being suspiciously obsessed with whether she’s her “true” self (cloned? adult choices? existential crisis, yes please). She deflects with sarcasm and floral aprons one minute, and then makes devastatingly honest choices the next; honestly, she oscillates between fierce independence and a needy kid asking for approval. And she loves horses. Or maybe she’s allergic to them? Either way she owns at least one immaculate mug with a horse on it.

Jerry Smith

Jerry is the lovable mess of a dad who wants to be the hero — bless him — but mostly manages to be a walking sitcom of insecurity. He clings to normalcy like it’s a life raft: steady job dreams, motivational sticky notes, cereal brand loyalty to rival a cult, you get the picture. He’s accidentally selfish, often pathetic, but sometimes he’s surprisingly honest and even kind, which keeps you rooting for him despite everything. Also he swears he once fixed the sink and I’m not sure that counts as a miracle or a disaster, depends on the episode.

Mr. Poopybutthole

Mr. Poopybutthole is this impossibly cheerful little character who somehow knows exactly when to be enormous sunshine or deeply unsettlingly meta about the universe. He pops in with a top hat and a grin and then — boom — he can break your heart or break the fourth wall, whichever the scene needs; tragic survivor vibes but also a one-man comedy show. He looks small and harmless but has layers, and sometimes shows up at the worst times with the best advice (and confusingly mixed continuity scars). Also he might be allergic to sadness? Or just allergic to sincerity? Hard to say, but he’s unforgettable.

Birdperson

Birdperson is the solemn, poetic warrior archetype who reads like an ancient friend-of-Rick with a tragic backstory and surprisingly tender moral code. He speaks in these big, weighty pronouncements and then quietly hands you wisdom while wearing feathers like a cape, and you immediately feel like you should call him “sir” and also be his friend. He’s stoic but not emotionless — more like grief-shaped calm — and will stab you for honor and also make you a weirdly good therapist after the apocalypse. He collects old war feathers and also can’t stand small talk, although he’ll hum a lullaby when nobody’s looking.

Squanchy

Squanchy is basically the party animal turned chaotic ally — equal parts lovable drunk uncle and ferocious friend who will “squanch” anything that annoys him (yes, squanch is a verb, it’s canon). He lives for a good time, loyalty, and the occasional violent outburst when the vibe calls for it, and he says “squanch” so much it becomes poetry, honestly. Deep-down he’s all about his crew and comfort, and he’ll swing from cuddly to brutal in a heartbeat — unpredictable but reliable in a weird way. Also he has a surprising fondness for catnip? Or is that just what he says after three beers? Either way, party on.