Courtesy of Warner Bros. Television Distribution

You wouldn’t understand. You see, in my 21 years of life, I’ve acquired a near-bottomless well of knowledge — knowledge about politics, culture, art, philosophy, everything. I am the guy who doctors hate. I am the the guy who, by sheer willpower, has become one of the one percent of people with an immeasurably high IQ. Speaking in this tongue is beneath me as I’m used to pop cultural references paired with animated gestures to relay my thoughts and feelings, but I must stoop to this level to communicate with you plebeians who can’t help but mock people like me. I am a “Rick and Morty” fan. That’s right, motherfucker. Wubba lubba dub dub! Schwifty! *Belches* I am a fan of the show which only the smartest of individuals can understand.

“Oh, ‘Rick and Morty,’ that’s that cartoon, right?” Yes, “Rick and Morty” is an animated television serial that airs on the popular network for adult comedy, Adult Swim. It is a show rich in its multiverse lore and scientific jargon, all the while functioning as a comedy for those intelligent enough to apprehend its humor. Don’t know the Pythagorean theorem? Fuck off, I didn’t think so.

Recently, the show and, to a larger extent, its brainy fanbase, has come under intense scrutiny for a reason so artificial and vacuous one could almost trace its origins to the show itself — ironically, of course. On Saturday, Oct. 7, the fast food chain McDonald’s ceremoniously re-released szechuan sauce for the first time since its initial release in 1998, then a promotion for the Disney animated film, “Mulan.” Why the re-release, you ask? Hmph, of course the lesser-minded individuals unfamiliar with the show must inquire to ascertain that reason. The reason why McDonald’s held this exclusive, limited edition, one-day-only sauce release was — while not specifically named — because of “Rick and Morty”: Rick, the series’ titular scientist extraordinaire, master of the multiverse, a gentleman and a scholar, loves the sauce. “That’s my series arc, Morty!” he admits in the first episode of the series’ third season.

The news of McDonald’s sauce had me, well, enlightened. Action potentials fired at a rate far more accelerated than the average human, for every ounce of my body (I am 4 feet and 3 inches tall) was titillated that I, too, could experience this oriental (it’s ok, my online friends are Asian) sauce. Yet like Julius Caesar, the Shakespearean hero I often find myself running parallels with, I, too, was served a cold helping of betrayal. For as much love and devotion the wise fanbase dispensed at the chain, McDonald’s couldn’t help but screw us all over on that fateful day.

A measly 20, on average, packets of the szechuan sauce were held at any given location (some outright lacking entirely, according to Twitter users) bright enough to order the sauce to begin with. Pitiful, really. If I were a McDonald’s manager (I would never be, I’m much too smart for such a position), I would surely not be lacking in my cognitive abilities to the extent that I would under-order sauce for this incredible community of fans. However, I have been groomed to expect such a display of failure — the show, after all, is rife with cynicism only the upper echelon of scholars could fathom.

How unfortunate that the community be pitted against each other, forced to slang the sauce per dip, or, in one extreme case, a motor vehicle. Employees should have known better, regardless of their salary; they owe their livelihood to us, the consumers of their product. Amidst the unparalleled struggles and bureaucratic nefariousness, it is clear this beautiful subculture defined by respect and acumen has been misrepresented by the mainstream media.

What happened that day was an affront on humanity, on high culture and elegance. This is a message to all of the fucking haters calling us “nerds,” or “entitled children,” or any of the mindless insults we receive daily: We don’t care. We know that what happened on that fateful day, the riots, the cries, the wubba lubba dub dubs, it was all for a cause. Soon enough, when the sauce packet I purchased on eBay for $5,000 using my wife’s boyfriend’s credit card (fuck off Craig, I know you’re loaded) arrives, I will achieve a power level … over 9000. It will truly be an epic sight to behold. McDonald’s needn’t bother releasing the sauce on a larger scale, for we have evolved rapidly in a matter of weeks. You, reader, condescending on us “fucking losers,” will rue the day you and the fast food giant trifled with the *belches* “Rick and Morty” fanbase.