"Someone" has pointy little horns and a lot of piercings and an incredibly bewildered expression.

"I have," he says, "some questions."

"You speak English," Morty says inanely. "Interesting. Uh, I can answer questions if you ask them. I can probably answer your first couple of questions if you don't ask them, actually: I fucked up a thing and that's why you're here, 'here' is Whateley Academy in Massachusetts in the USA on Earth, and I'm Morty, codename Smokescreen, uh, hi."

"What and why and also how."

"Um, I was trying to siphon energy from an alternate universe, is what, and also why. How is, um, I'm a Devisor? Like, a mad scientist, except technically you're not supposed to call us that but I am actually a bona fide crazy person and also a Devisor so I don't see why I can't say it about myself." He shakes his head briskly. "Sorry. Still a little hyped up from the, uh, episode I was having. Also panicking. You're not a demon, right? This isn't, like, because of the horns - it isn't just because of the horns - just, if you're a demon I do have to call Mrs. Carson and also probably go to jail. Please don't be a demon."

He thinks he likes this guy, through all the why and how and also what. He doesn't totally comprehend what's going on here, but his feelings on his own identity sound really relatable.

"Yeah, no, not a demon. I'm a mutant. There are demons?"

"There totally are! The Mystic Arts folks have opinions about them, I just know they're probably bad news. And that's what I thought, is mutant, but like, this is Mutant High School so my probabilities are kinda skewed. Also: both mutants!" He gives a little wave. "I don't do that every time I run into a mutant, obviously, because like everybody's a mutant here, but you're not from here so, um." He repeats the little wave.

He's adorable.

"And...your mutant power is building weird shit?"

"Yeah, specifically weird shit involving cardboard that defies the laws of physics. I- weird shit, comma, involving cardboard, comma, that defies the laws of physics. Sometimes the cardboard does too, though."

"–it's cardboard-specific."

Wait. Wrong question.

"I didn't know there was another mutant high school."

"We're, like, moderately secret. All the superpeople know about us, most of them went here themselves. I don't know about 'another' mutant high school, we're the only one in the US. Unless yours is very very secret, that's probably an alternate universe thing." He pauses. "Um. Also you're probably from an alternate universe, sorry, I don't think I mentioned that. Because the dimensional siphon was aimed at another universe."

"...I'm...guessing the odds aren't great on you putting me back?"

Please please let them not be great.

"I mean, me personally no. You don't want me putting you back, I'd probably melt you or something. But, um, since I'm a Whateley student it's the school's responsibility. And they know how to get, like, wizards and stuff. This has happened before, Whateley's really good at fish out of water stuff."

Fuck.

"...wow. I've never had somebody call me an emergency wizard before."

"Whateley's got a ton of wizards running around. It's pretty cool. You can learn magic, too, but everybody says it's not really worth it if you don't have a Wiz-class mutation. I stick with Workshop classes. Trying to figure out how to make shit out of cardboard that doesn't explode. Or summon goths from another dimension, not that you're not cool and everything."

“...are we totally sure I didn’t just have a psychotic break or something? I’m coming up to that wonderful time in your life.”

"If one of us had a psychotic break, it's probably me. I've already got Diedrick's. But I'm pretty sure neither of us has."

Well. He doesn’t think he’s going anywhere.

He sits down on the floor.

“Is asking what Diedrick’s is an asshole thing to do?”

"Not really. Diedrick's syndrome is 'mad scientist's disease,' basically: I get fits of mania, paranoia, and general 'I'll show them all!' -ness. I've unironically said that before. It's a mess. Mutants who aren't Devisors or Gadgeteers can get it too, but we're most traditionally associated with it because of the whole, you know, mad scientist thing."

“...sounds kinda rough.”

He nods. "But, you know, maybe eventually I will show them all. If my shit stops exploding all the time."

He laughs.

“Yeah, that’s the right attitude. You’ve gotta own that shit.”

Morty nods.

There's a slightly awkward pause. "I should maybe call the office about having accidentally summoned a goth from another dimension. -I don't have a name for you other than that, do I. What's your name?"

He nods.

“Z. And you’re, uh, Morty, right?”

"Morty Halliwell. Your name is way cooler than mine, congratulations."

He goes over to the phone and punches in a number. He waits for about fifteen seconds, then someone picks up. "Miss Hartford? This is Morty H- okay. Um. I accidentally... summoned someone from a parallel universe." He winces. "Yes, ma'am. No. It's- you don't have to send- okay."

He hangs up the phone. "She's sending Mrs. Carson. She looks kinda scary, but don't worry about it."

There's a flash of light and a knock at the window. Morty opens it, and a glowing woman flies in holding a silver scepter. She looks at Z intensely, and her scepter glows brighter. "Are you a demon?"

“I. Uh. Nnn...o?”