Planet Express delivery company roll call!
- Captain Turanga Leela! - Here!
Delivery boy, first class, Philip J. Fry!
Here!
Assistant Manager of Sales, Bender Bending Rodriguez!
Here!
Cerveza, por favor.
Long-term intern, Amy Wong.
Here!
Company physician, Dr. John A. Zoidberg.
I thought it was mine.
Bureaucrat Grade 34, Hermes Conrad
is who I am.
And now I am proud to present the owner and founder of Planet Express,
Professor Hubert J. Farnsworth!
You're all fired.
Sweet bongo of the Congo!
In fact, you were fired two years ago.
That's when we were shut down by the delivery network.
Yes, I'm afraid the brainless drones who run the network
canceled our License.
We were canceled?
Oh, it's terrible. Just terrible.
Well, clear out your desks and move along. Chop-chop.
Yes? I see.
Good news, everyone!
Those asinine morons who canceled us were themselves fired for incompetence.
And not just fired, but beaten up, too. And pretty badly.
In fact, most of them died from their injuries.
And then they were ground up into a fine pink powder.
- Why? - Oh, it's got a million and one uses.
That soothes the fire.
So what does this mean for us and our many fans?
It means we're back on the air!
Yes, flying on the air in our mighty spaceship.
We're back, baby!
Party!
Go, go, go!
Lower, lawn mower!
What's the matter, robot? You got a rod up your spine?
Yes, I do. That's how I'm built.
- Hooray. - Way to bend it!
You're the greatest, Bender!
In Jamaica, we got 10-story office buildings lower than that.
Let's see you beat it, Rasta man.
Let's make it interesting. Fetch down one of them sabers.
Oh, flexible. That would go good up my spine.
Lower.
The fat guy wins!
Go, Hermes!
That's why they call me 11-inch Conrad.
Oh, no.
Can you save Hermes, Dr. Goodensexy?
I told you, my name is Dr. Cahill.
Figures I'd get mangled while the blond bimbo's on duty.
I'm a doctor, sir.
The mere fact that I'm blond and have a breathy voice,
full sensual lips and a steaming hot body doesn't make me a bimbo.
Tell me about it.
I think we've all learned a thing or two about sexual stereotypes
while my head's slowly dying 'cause I'm not in a jar yet, you bimbo!
Oh, right. Ditzy-witzy!
Lars, got another jar job!
Oh, sorry, Doctor. I was disinfecting Courtney Love...
Oh, hello.
What are you looking at? Is it the eye?
Guilty as charged.
It's a nice looking eye, and there's plenty of it.
- Oh. Do I know you? - Apparently not.
- Hi. I'm Lars. - Oh. I'm Leela.
- Nice to meet you. - Nice to be met.
Pick up ladies on your own time, you shiny-headed goat.
Sir, you're just a little enraged 'cause you're dying. Up and away!
Lars is so flirting with you.
He is so not. He's just being polite.
Who does he think he is, being polite to you?
- You want me to beat him up? - No. Stop being so immature.
I'll show her who's immature.
"Charles de Gaulle"? Never heard of you.
I freed France from the Nazis and...
Hey, Leela. I'm some French guy.
Rock that Frenchman, baby!
Oh, my poor little love pirate of the Caribbean.
There, there, wife. Everything will be all...
Okay, look, Hermes, we got to think of the boy.
- He needs a daddy. - He has a daddy.
No, he got two half-daddies.
- Will his body be all right? - Yes, but it may take a few days.
No, not soon enough.
Come, Dwight, let's find you a handsome new father.
LaBarbara, no!
It's okay, Hermes. We're all here for you.
Good news, everyone!
We've got a delivery to the nude beach planet.
So long, jerk.
It feels great to be back at the wheel after two long years.
That's not the wheel.
It's nice out.
"You must be at least this naked"?
How much nakeder could you be?
Watch and learn.
- You know, it's funny. - What?
Your wiener!
Well, I'm going in the water to prune up a bit before I strut.
- Who's with me? - I'm in!
- I'm in. - Yeah, I'll go.
You guys go ahead.
I gotta find the bartender and deliver this box of barstool softener.
Here's your package, sir.
- Why are you talking to my penis? - Oh, sorry. Sign here.
- Mind if I use your pen? - Well, that's not a...
And initial here.
Thank you for using Planet Express.
Hey, Fry, I didn't know you had a tattoo of Bender on your ass.
Me, neither.
You got a tattoo of me?
Neat. It's like looking in a smelly mirror.
So he's got a little ink. Big whoop.
Sweet photons.
I don't know if you're waves or particles, but you go down smooth.
Sir, would you care to sign our petition?
I support and oppose many things, but not strongly enough to pick up a pen.
That's just what the guys
who oppose the things you support want you to do.
Really? Down with those guys!
And we'll need your e-mail address.
They say you shouldn't give out your e-mail address.
Right. That's just what those same guys say.
Them again?
I don't quite understand what this petition's about.
Animals?
And your e-mail address.
- You won't send me any spam, will you? - Oh, no, no, no, no.
Asterisk.
You've got spam.
Spam, spam, junk.
The very last pygmy rhino is going extinct?
Unless it gets my credit card number?
Spam. Spam.
"Hi. How are you?" Oh, that must be from Kiffy.
Hi, how are you?
Low, low prices on erectile dysfunction remedies,
sleeping pills, old-person drugs, and antidepressants.
Antidepressants?
Well, I certainly don't want to get depressed.
Please enter credit card number.
Is cash okay?
Porn. Porn. Free porn.
I find that rather hard to believe.
"Top-quality".
I'm waiting for porn over here.
Oh, yeah, come on, baby.
Friends, friends!
His Majesty Prince Adisaraki O. Zoidberg of Nigeria died.
That's so sad.
When will those antidepressants get here?
Wait, there's more.
According to this e-mail, I, Zoidberg, am his next of kin.
Once I wire some good-faith money to an overseas bank account,
I'll inherit his kingdom, his canoe, and his plump young wife.
You dumb stumps. Don't you realize you're being scammed?
That is low, Hermes.
Just because you don't have a body,
you don't want anyone else to be prince of Nigeria.
Well, try and stop me from wiring that money.
What's going on here?
According to my illegal key logging software,
you've all been giving out personal information over the Internet.
If Hermes were here, he'd fire you all.
- I am here. - Quiet, you.
In his absence, I'm calling a mandatory company security seminar.
To the mandatorium!
Now, it's not hard to spot a phony Internet come-on.
"Get rich quick x7 q"? Phony.
"Lose weight with space parasites"? Phony.
What's this? I've won the Spanish National Lottery?
No, it's a scam!
Yes, yes, a scam. My goodness, I'm rich!
And to think I didn't even know I had a ticket.
I just need to wire some collateral to collect the winnings.
Professor, stop! You're giving away personal information!
I can afford to give away anything I want. I've won the Spanish National Lottery.
- No, don't! - It's a scam!
Why won't anybody listen to me?
And my mother's maiden name and her bank account numbers and...
There!
I'm rich. Rich. Rich!
That must be my $400 now.
Hello. Or should I say, '"Buenos dias"?
Hi. We own your company now.
I'll deal with these guys.
Welcome, boss.
Guess I was wrong.
There was a robot stupid enough to download the obedience virus.
I sure was. Make a hole, chumps.
Presenting our new masters!
Where shall I put these auto-dialers, kind master?
Between the password crank and the spamjaculator.
Come on! We've got a whole planet to scam.
And bring me some more Gummi Fungus!
We don't have to stand here and take abuse from a gross nerd.
- Yeah! - Yeah!
Now get back to work, you turkeys.
Planet Express is still in business.
We've got crap loads of quote-unquote merchandise to deliver.
Ship them out, Your Highness.
Finally, some respect.
I feel a little better.
Those marvelous scammers sure scammed us, huh?
How can you just sit there kissing the aliens' butt flaps?
Don't you realize you are totally under their control?
Of course I realize it. Does that mean I can't enjoy it?
Boy, were we suckers.
Greetings, earthlings.
Oh, hooray. It's handsome Lars and his fabulous jars.
Hello, everyone who isn't Leela.
And a special hello to everyone else.
Shut your lockers and get to class.
- How's my body doing? - Oh, I'm afraid it's behind schedule.
The museum got tricked into giving all its funding
to something called the Scamming Sciences Institute.
It's a fake place.
Cut to the chase, baldy. When do I get my me back?
Well, it could be months, or even years.
No! That body's the cornerstone of my marriage.
What's LaBarbara going to do?
She's going to go back to her first husband.
Barbados Slim? I love that guy.
Everybody loves Slim.
He's the only man to ever win Olympic gold medals
in both limbo and sex.
Well, maybe I should get going.
- Yes, I'll show you out. - No, Leela will show him out.
No, Leela will show you out.
Me. Leela.
So your friend, Fry, seems nice.
- Are you and he dating? - Nope.
Good, because I was maybe thinking of asking you out for dinner.
I'll start maybe thinking about saying, "Sure, when?"
Let me maybe give it some thought.
- Tomorrow at 8:00? - Okay.
It's no fair. I've loved Leela since the day I came to the future.
Did I show you the macaroni valentine I made for her?
Yes.
Look at it again.
I know she thinks I'm immature, but someday I won't be.
And deep down in my heart, I know we'll end up together.
It's all there in the macaroni.
Lars asked me out.
- What are you doing, wonderful masters? - Sprunjing for information.
Oh! There's something here. I can sprunje it.
Robot, tear it open!
Goody, goody, goody, goody!
- What's that thing on your neck? - Checking out my sprunjer, huh?
I guess. What does it do?
It's a special sense organ our species possesses.
It engorges in the presence of...
Information.
Lucky you.
All I have is a gland that gives off foul odors when I'm bored.
Hey, look, a safe!
That's my safe. I call keep-offsies.
No callsies! Open it!
It's a gold mine. Tax forms, Social Security cards.
Combination hair, blood and stool samples.
I don't get it. How can you say Lars is more mature than me?
Well, for one thing, his checkbook doesn't have the Hulk on it.
- Who are you? - Philip J. Fry.
Social Security Number 03280810? Stool type, P-negative?
That's right.
I've never detected so much information before.
I think it may be a Level 87 code.
Level 87? Can it be?
I thought it was only a legend, but the sprunjer never lies.
- It's in his pants! - What the hell are you talking about?
Faster, faster!
I'm science-ing as fast as I can.
What do you say, folks? Hot or not?
I'm not seeing any information. Do more things!
You, boogerbot, read the code or I'll shoot this guy.
- Who the hell is he? - I'm Scruffy, the janitor.
Hang on, Scruffy!
"Zero, zero, one, one, zero, zero, zero, one, zero, zero, one, zero,
"zero, one, one, one, one, zero, one, zero, zero, zero, zero,
"one, one, zero, one, one, zero, one, one, one, zero, zero, one, one".
A time sphere.
Naked brothers, we have sprunjed
upon the universal machine language time code.
The key to time travel.
What's the secret of time travel doing on Fry's ass?
It was bound to be somewhere.
Beyond this shimmering portal lie all the glories of history.
And we can steal them!
We just go to the past and take stuff with our superior weapons!
Stop, you fools.
- What's going on? - What is happening?
Nibbler, you... You can talk?
I can do more than talk. I can pontificate.
You must not use the code of codes.
With each and every use, you risk tearing the universe asunder.
Oh, he's so adorable.
The poodle-monkey may be right.
The legend warns that the code is powerful and dangerous.
My God.
We'd better use it only three or four times. Six, max.
But even a single use could shatter the universe.
Got it. Two or three times.
I see I have no choice.
Nibblonians, attack!
Hey! That tickles.
And the pitch!
Mayday, mayday!
Hey! Hey! Hey!
Scamper!
Alas, our kitten-class attack ships were no match for their mighty chairs.
The universe is doomed. Doomed!
Can I pull up my pants now?
Doomed!
Stand back, you wing wangs.
I'm gonna try out this time sphere with a quick test drive to yesterday.
Bushwa! You can't go mucking about in the past without creating paradoxes.
I'm afraid he can. It's a paradox-correcting time code.
It all works perfectly. Except when it rips open the universe!
Don't do it. I beg you.
Yesterday, please. And make it snappy!
- Hello! - Howdy!
- Say, what the... - That's weird.
There was one, but now there's two.
Nothing gets past you, eagle eye.
I went back to last night and met the "me" of that time for a drink.
One thing led to another, and we ended up at my place.
Or should I say our place?
Oh, come on, you bunch of prudes!
This isn't merely revolting, it's impossible to boot.
I know a paradox when I see one.
Paradox resolved. Someone get a mop!
You're looking well, Pops.
How can you look me in the eye-and-eye and say that?
I'm nothing but a brain. A useless filthy brain!
You forgot lice-infested.
I didn't forget, I just chose not to...
Barbados Slim?
What are you doing here?
Is there something going on between you two?
Oh, no. No, no, no.
We just happened to run into each other shortly after your accident.
And every night since then.
You're so crazy.
Woman, no!
Oh, who am I kidding? Without my body, I'm a nobody.
I'm sorry, Hermes. But look at Barbados. You can't argue with those luscious pecs.
No, I can't.
But I can ask him to stop wiggling them in my face.
I'm not wiggling them. They do that by themselves.
I think I'll go back in time and steal the Liberty Bell before it cracked.
- Or is the crack the valuable part? - I don't know, you naked crook!
We have a problem, Nudar. It's a one-way time code.
It can take us to the past, but it can't bring us back to the present!
Masters, if I might? Let me do the stealing.
I'll go to the past and snatch everything I can get my greasy mitts on.
Then, as a robot, I can just wait it out for a few centuries
in the limestone cavern beneath this building.
Oh, it'll be ever so much fun!
Hey, that's perfect.
We sit back and let dumb-dumb here do the stealing.
Dumb-dumb away!
Zero, zero, one, one, zero, zero...
Yup!
The Mona Lisa!
Sorry, it's not quite finished.
Da Vinci give you any trouble?
Let's just say he may not make it to The Last Supper.
Preposterous twaddlecock! Time travel is impossible.
But, Professor, you time-traveled yourself.
Remember, when we went back to Roswell?
That proves nothing.
And, furthermore, you'd think I'd remember a thing like that.
Plus, who are you, anyway?
- Man, this is fun on a bun! Here I go again! - Oh, no, you don't!
Zero, zero, one, one...
Scarab, forearm, bird, bird, bird.
No, it's just me, Bender.
I must tell you, Hedonismbot,
I hate to sell my doomsday devices to a private collector.
But with my business stolen, I have to make ends meet.
You will be careful?
I shan't touch them till I've had Jambi lock the absinthe and ether away.
- Oh! What does this one do? - That one kills everything everywhere.
How delightful. And this one?
Sir, the spheroboom is not for sale.
It's my sentimental favorite.
No need to explain. I, too, have known unconventional love.
Perhaps you and I and Jambi could get together
and compare notes sometime, eh?
Resulting in peace between East and West Coast rappers...
Good God!
I accept this Nobel Peace Prize not just for myself,
but for crime robots everywhere. Skoal!
Not so neutral now, are you, Sweden?
Be honest with me. Does my eye look monstery?
I don't want to look monstery for my date with Lars.
At least a monster has a body.
What I wouldn't give for Wolf Man's torso, or any of the Groovie Goolies.
I think I'll wear that slutty dress I've been saving for Easter.
I'd like to punch Lars right in his ruggedly good-looking face.
Like all rich people, we're gonna need weapons to shoot poor people.
- In self-defense? - Yes, that, too.
Bender, go steal the doomsday device chained to the professor's wrist.
Never!
I'm kidding. You guys know I have to do whatever you say.
- Here, swap this for the real one. - The old switcheroo.
Yes, but don't wake him.
You'll need jeweler's tools and foot-cup silencers.
Hey. I don't tell you how to tell me what to do,
so don't tell me how to do what you tell me to do.
Bender knows when to use finesse.
- Here you go. - Put it in the safe, clanky.
It's the damnedest thing.
There I was in the dumpster, enjoying a moldy Fudgsicle,
when suddenly your hand flies over and slaps me in the toches.
Yes, well, these things happen.
Fortunately, the spheroboom is still safe.
Scammed? Me? Sweetheart?
You do a nice hand job, Zoidberg.
Tell me, if I could find an undamaged body, could you recapitate me?
Hermes, I'm a surgeon.
When I see two body parts,
I sew them together and see what happens.
All I'm asking is for you to go back in time
to when I still had my body and bring it back for me.
- What do I do with your old head? - I don't care in the slightest.
Can do!
- Come on, man! - Hermes, please!
You can't hurry a delicate operation like this.
What are those?
You incompetent crab!
I thought you were happy. Your tail was wagging.
I believe this paradoxicality equation to be unsolvable.
Ergo, time travel is impossible.
But I can't quite prove it, Bubblegum.
Perhaps you and your razzle-dazzle Globetrotter calculus could...
Looks pretty damn solvable to me, Farnsy.
Sweet Clyde, use variation of parameters and expand the Wronskian.
Shizz, baby.
So paradox-free time travel is possible after all.
Right on. But dig this multiplicand here.
The "doom field"? That must be what corrects the paradoxes.
But that mama rises exponentially.
It could rupture the very fabric of causality.
That's what I've been trying to tell you.
Hermes! You got your body back.
Yes, but not the original.
Bender went back in time and picked up a copy.
A copy? Funky cold medina!
According to this equation, a time-travel duplicate
results in a complex denominator in the causality ratio.
- Oh, snap! You know what that means. - I can guess.
Actually, I can't guess.
Prof, you got a doom meter in this lab?
Good Lord, Bubblegum.
The duplicate body is emitting doom at 10 times the background level.
I thought as much. A duplicate body is always doomed.
It's just a matter of time.
I don't care. I just need it long enough to bird-dog in and win LaBarbara back.
- Best bird-dog fast, my brother. - That's the way I bird-dog best.
Drink, quick! I can't balance it much longer.
Wait, I...
Yes!
Oh, this is so much fun, Lars.
Most men are intimidated by the fact
that I could kill them with a flick of my wrist.
Well, not me, 'cause if you do, you'll be stuck with the check.
Folks, you care for a little fresh ground Executive?
Please.
Don't get excited, kids. This thing's got heart-shaped nostrils.
Want to see it make a star?
- No! - No!
Here's your Gutenberg Bible, masters. Plus, the Colonel's secret recipe.
Well, that does it. We've got every valuable object in history.
Now that I'm rich, I suddenly care if the universe gets destroyed.
We can't use that dangerous time code again.
Blank it from the robot's memory.
I'll vaporize this guy so his ass doesn't fall into the wrong hands.
Why don't you just remove my tattoo?
Nice try, but you might have memorized it.
No, I mightn't.
I can't even remember my mother's maiden name.
It's Gleissner.
Stupid naked aliens. Stupid Lars.
I hate the future.
Man, that cube root was a real buzzer-beater, Clyde.
Zero, one, one, one, zero, zero, one, one!
Blast him!
You missed. Oh, great master.
Hello, 2000.
I'm home.
Happy New Year, naked weirdo!
Happy New Year.
Well, we'll never know where the ass guy went,
and since we can't kill him, I say live and let live.
That's sweet, boss.
Fry'll be nice and cozy back in the year 2000.
What? How do you know he went to the year 2000?
That's where he always goes.
Better play it safe. Go there a little earlier and wait for him.
You know what to do.
You want me to concludify him like some sort of dispatcherator?
- Yes, and don't forget to terminate him. - Got it.
Preparing to terminate Philip Fry.
What's with the doofy sunglasses?
It's really bright in the past.
Zero, zero, one, one, zero...
Okay, Fry. Come to papa.
Man, I'm bored.
Hey, there you are.
Oh, wait. That's Fry before he goes to the future.
I'm waiting for the one who comes back from the future.
Jeez, this is confusing.
And I bet it's gonna get a lot more confusing.
That cheap beer really goes right through you.
For the first time ever, I gotta use the bathroom.
But if I leave, I might miss Fry.
Unless...
Zero, zero, one, one, zero, zero...
And I bet it's gonna get a lot more confusing.
Hi, I'm you from 19 seconds in the future.
Stay here and wait for Fry while I go to the bathroom.
Okay, boss.
After I kill Fry, you're next.
- What? - Nothing.
What the... Who are you?
I'm Bender from way at the end.
I came back to put this rub-on time code on Fry's ass.
So what are you now, a butler?
Spot of tea, please, jerk wad.
It's called class, you yokel.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a buttocks to tattoo.
Hello, 2000.
I'm home.
Happy New Year, naked weirdo!
Happy New Year.
Hasta la vista, meat bag.
Bender? What are you doing? It's me, your best friend.
Must obey orders.
Mustn't kill friend.
Badly want to urinate!
- What's happening? Are you urinating? - Entering auto-destruct sequence.
Crap, I hate auto-destruct sequence.
Explosion in seven, six...
It'll be a cold day in hell, my friend.
Five... Hey, I'm supposed to be the one saying cool things.
Hey!
So the game of cat and mouse begins, huh?
Let us match wits.
Oh, how am I supposed to find him?
All those times he blabbed on and on about his life in the 20th century,
if only I had paid the slightest bit of attention.
Oh, well, guess I better go kill myself.
Hello, bartender?
I have thought it over, and far from being a fat pig,
you are very nice, and I would like another drink...
Take a barf, drunky.
Okay, suicide booth, give me your best shot.
Electrocution, please. Side order of poison.
Hello? Kill me, you stupid machine.
What the... "Local calls 50 cents"?
It's a street-corner telephone parlor.
What kind of horrible suicide-free time is this?
Wait a minute.
Maybe this handy encyclopedia of humans will help me track Fry down.
Fry, Fry, Fry.
One of these Frys must be Fry.
Look out, Philip Fry, 'cause I got a little present for you.
My name is Philip Fry. Where's my present?
Hang on a second, Fry. I don't remember you being that ugly.
No, no, I've always been this ugly.
Let me see your ass.
No tattoo. Okay, you can go.
Farewell, sir.
Say your prayers, Fry.
This isn't Fry. I kicked Fry out two hours ago.
This is my new boyfriend...
- Constantine. - Really? That's a dumb name.
Could be a trick. Let me see your ass, Constantine.
Oh, nice. Now I see why she left Fry.
Okay, you're still clean. I mean, metaphorically.
He must have left the city. Man, this could take all day.
You guys wouldn't know a chad if it was taped to your...
- The returns are looking good, Mr. Gore. - Thanks, Phil.
Here's to four years of clean air, clean government,
and amazing new technologies such as the...
Robot!
Philip Fry?
12 years passed.
Then, this.
Philip J. Fry?
Phil, some kind of trash can here to see you.
He's coming.
Are you made of Tinkertoy?
It's been 12 years. Maybe I'm getting taller.
You're not getting smarter.
Listen, pipsqueak, are you Philip J. Fry or not?
'Cause if you are, I'm here to kill you.
I'd like to see you try.
You want Uncle Phil.
He went to the North Pole on a fishing boat.
The North Pole! I was just there.
One ticket to the North Pole, please. Broom-closet class.
Fry?
If only I could be sure.
It is Fry.
I'd recognize me, and hence him, anywhere.
Follow that guy.
There's an extra 100 in it for you
if you follow him so closely that you run him over.
Yes, sir.
Dang! That $100 could have bought me one gallon of gas.
Oh, I lost him. People will call me a failure.
Others, however, will call me the world's sexiest killing machine,
who's fun at parties.
Fry, old buddy. It's me, Bender.
I totally killed him!
Oh, God, what have I done?
Preparing to terminate Philip Fry.
What's with the doofy sunglasses?
It's really bright in the past.
Zero, zero, one, one, zero...
Mission accomplished.
Fry is dead?
No other robot could've done it.
It took 12 years of tireless stalking,
but I hunted down and killed my best friend.
I'm the greatest!
Time code and obedience virus erased.
Also, 50 terabytes of porn.
Hey!
You've got no code, no porn, and you're ugly.
Let's dance!
Nuh-nuh-nuh Nuh-nuh-nuh
Now, it's true, we'll all miss Fry.
He was the only one of you who never struck me!
And we'll never see his boyish smile and hair horn again.
But I bet he went back to his own time.
I'm sure he was very happy and lived to a ripe old age.
He wasn't and he didn't!
Struggling alone against incredible odds, I, Bender, managed to kill him.
I blew him to mush like a midget in a microwave.
Oh, don't blame yourself, Bender.
I don't blame myself. I blame all of you!
Us? How can you possibly blame us?
It ain't easy. It just proves how great I am.
Fry!
I'd give anything to un-murder you!
- Did someone call me? - No!
Fry?
But I killed you in 2012. Unless...
Nope, he's not a zombie.
- Welcome back, Fry. - Thank you, Lars.
I... I'll see you later, honey.
So tell us, Fry, if Bender killed you centuries ago,
how in Satan's glorious name did you return?
Oh, it's an astonishing tale of incredibleness.
It all began when I went back in time.
Duh!
Oh, hey, Mr. Panucci.
I'm back from that delivery to the cryogenic lab.
Great, I'll put you on the cover of Big Whoop magazine.
- I'm starving. Can I have a slice? - Help yourself. Cash up front.
This note is legal tender.
Unfortunately, I had no money from that era.
But that's when it hit me. I knew where to find free pizza.
Ice cold.
That's when it hit me again.
But an hour ago, this pizza's still lukewarm!
"Zero, zero, one, one, zero..."
Explosion in seven, six...
It'll be a cold day in hell, my friend.
Five... Hey, I'm supposed to be the one saying cool things.
- Nice kick, me. - Thanks. What are you doing here?
One hour from now, I travel back in time for free pizza.
But Nibbler said not to use the time code.
Fine, Mr. Responsible, don't use the code.
That pizza sure was good.
- You pig. - Whatever.
That's when it hit me yet a third time.
You idiot!
Frozen me's still got a wallet full of old-timey money.
Yuck! I touched my own butt!
So I unfroze 10 minutes ago, and I walked over here,
and then it was now, and then I don't know what happened.
Well, I'm glad you're alive,
but I don't want people to say I'm incompetent,
so I better kill you again. Hold still.
Bender! Stop killing for a minute!
The Fry you murdered was doomed anyway.
See?
What have you got there? Numbers?
Here, when the time code duplicates a living thing,
the copy is always doomed.
And that includes flabby Jamaican pot-bellies.
Kiss my front-butt.
So my copy lived 12 years before Bender murdered him?
Brutally murdered.
I wonder what his life was like.
I guess we'll never know.
Or will we?
Nope.
They won't know. But you will.
Lucky you.
Oh, hey, Mr. Panucci.
I'm back from that delivery to the cryogenic lab.
I know. I read about it in Big Whoop magazine.
So my girlfriend kicked me out. Can I rent the upstairs storage room?
The upstairs storage?
I like you, kid.
Your lousy life makes me feel good about myself.
The room's yours.
Here, take some rat spray for the meatball hamper.
Happy day, man. Good to have you back.
Indeed, but the scammers will soon sprunje the code again.
We must remove the time tattoo at once, and as painlessly as possible.
Hurry! They're coming!
There, the code is gone.
I saved the space-time continuum and 40% of your rectum.
- Yeah! - That's all you need.
Oh, I sprunje code.
Too late, Nudar. I've wiped Fry's butt clean.
We'll see about that.
Nothing, boss. We sprunjed his ass inside and out.
The only information we found was a hair shaped like the number six.
Give me that!
Nine. All right, let him go. I guess the time code really is gone.
Thank God.
The present may stink,
but at least now we can look forward to a better yesterday.
I'm sorry, Leela, but I can't keep living in the past.
By which I mean the future.
I'll always love you,
but I've got to move on and find my life's purpose.
And that's how Bungles the monkey finally found a friend.
I miss Morbo.
And finally, tonight on The Late Cute Animal News,
a story that will really tug your heartstrings
way more than Bungles, the doll-raping monkey.
It's the tale of lonely Leelu, the little orphan narwhal.
Leelu is a rare toothed, female narwhal
who got disoriented and washed up in Atlantic City,
as we all do from time to time.
But without a mother, she's lost the will to eat.
Come on, take a sip.
I know how to make things eat. Maybe this is my purpose in life.
Hi, I'd like to apply for a job working with Leelu.
Question number one.
Do you have any experience working with marine mammals?
- No, but I think they're pretty neat. - That answers question number two.
Question number three.
Do you know where the door is, or do you prefer to be kicked out?
I don't know. I guess kicked out.
Hiya, girl!
My name's Fry, and I think you're a cutie,
'cause I like things that have only one thing
instead of two things.
Holy mackerel! She's eating whole mackerel.
I don't know what your secret is, but if you'll work for minimum wage,
you can start tomorrow.
If I work for less than minimum, can I start today?
I don't see why not.
In business news, the weak and gullible inhabitants of Earth
were plunged into economic depression today
as the scammer aliens finished stealing every item of value,
including ownership of this station.
Tough times, Earth chumps. We're repossessing your TV.
Seems you can't afford it now that you're unemployed.
We're not...
I love the Head Museum at night. It's where I come to be alone.
- Hi, Lars! - Hi, Lars!
Lars and la belle Leela.
I trust you brought some haute cuisine for an old Frenchman?
Your favorite, General. Torgo's Executive Powder.
Mmm! Magnifique!
Come on, Leela. Let me show you the Hall of Screaming Skulls.
It's so romantic.
What's wrong? Is the screaming depressing you?
It's just... My life is changing so fast. I don't know who I am anymore.
I know who you are.
You're the woman I've been waiting for all my life.
Let's go to my place.
I like what you've done with it.
And that would be us, dump cakes.
We're buying the whole city
and turning it into a private panda hunting reserve.
Nuh-nuh-nuh
There aren't any pandas in New New York.
Back it up, Sal!
Look at us, living like trash-eating bums in an alley now.
Yes, now.
And on Xmas eve, the most wonderful night of the...
Oops.
Well, at least we have each other.
So it truly is the worst Xmas ever.
Santa!
The Planet Express crew.
According to my list, you've all been very naughty.
I'll be back for you after I collect my milk and cookies
from starving orphans.
That's it. I don't see how things could get any worse.
We could sing.
I'd rather kill myself.
Why not do both?
Oh. Very well.
I may as well jump
Those sleazy naked scammers
Made me look like a chump
They robbed me of my dignity and most of my stuff
Lars brought me candy
Cram it down and shut the hell up
I can't compete with that
He's Barbados Slim and I'm Jamaican fat
Who would choose a backwards corpse with lice in his hair?
Lars says I'm dreamy
Who the hell cares?
Oh, won't somebody shoot her, please
And put her out of our misery?
That's my cue.
Oh, my word.
Lars makes me puke
I bet she'd love me, too If I was a baldheaded kook
- Hey, guess what, guys! - What?
While we were huddled in fear
Lars popped the question
- Congratulations! - Mazel tov!
May stars in heaven bless your love!
I think I'm gonna cry
'cause it's an extra happy Xmas this year
Now could things get any worse?
Ho! Ho! Ho!
Stop screaming.
That's just what the bomb wants us to do.
I say do what it tells us.
Don't worry, a bomb in a case is just like a head in a jar.
Oh, Lars, not blowing us up makes me love you even more.
Lifesaving goody-goody.
Well, now that death has been staved off momentarily,
let me be the first to say
congratulations, Leela and Lars.
- Maid of honor! - Maid of honor!
Oh.
- Oh, that's wonderful. - I'm so happy.
I could make you happy, too, if only you'd give me a chance.
En garde!
You've done a wonderful job, Fry.
When you first started,
I thought she'd be dead within a narweek,
which is six days, I believe.
No, Leelu's a champ.
She just needed someone to show her how to eat.
Now that's the kind of whale behavioral science
they don't teach you in whale behavioral science class.
So what's up, Dr. Shlivinowitz?
This is a little hard for me to say, Fry.
You see, it's...
It's time we released Leelu back into the wild.
I'm sorry, but the decision is final.
Plus, we need the tank for the Loch Ness monster.
But that turned out to be a log
with a Halloween mask stapled to it.
Yes, well, it still draws a crowd.
I can't let this happen. She'll never be happy without me.
I know you're broke and homeless,
but you still want a swank wedding reception.
So I whipped you up some real nice budget appetizers.
I can keep these down.
Okay. That's a big yes on the crud puffs.
Try the shlimp cocktail.
There must be some way I can stop this wedding.
- What if I steal the wedding ring? - Already taken care of.
You think that will be enough to stop the ceremony?
Nope. I pulled the old switcheroo, so they won't even know the difference.
Wait a minute.
I think the copy I made actually cost more than this!
Cheap, lousy Lars.
Actually, this is extremely nice. But I really went all-out on the copy.
It was sort of my gift to them.
I can't let this happen. She'll never be happy without me.
It's not fair. We need each other.
Fry, you dumb sack. I don't care about your problems at all.
- You need your blanket, Mr. Panucci. - I don't even wanna be here.
I only came because you wheeled me.
But if that narwhal means so much to you,
you gotta do something.
I know, but I can't just go chasing after her.
- That'd be nuts. - Sometimes you gotta be a little nuts.
Let me introduce you to my cousin. He owns a small freighter.
That's him right behind us.
Maybe you're right.
Sir, I'd like to engage your ship for a trans-Arctic voyage
to capture a narwhal and bring it back to my room.
- The man is nuts, Leroy. - Professional whale keeper, eh?
I've carried your type before, and we don't get along.
Oh, I agree with your values and your goals and your methods,
but somehow we just never click on a personal level.
I'm not a professional anymore. Just a narwhal-loving private citizen.
Then I'm your man.
We'll take on three barrels of fresh sausage and sail at dawn.
Welcome to the wedding!
It's a foolproof plan.
They can't sign the wedding license if I give them a pen with no ink.
Yeah, once they try to sign that license, all hell will break loose.
Oy vey.
Go on now, man.
Don't you know nothing about zipping up a woman's frock?
It's more my thing to zip them down.
Get your clumsy, muscular hands off my woman, Barbados.
Hermes! Your body!
I always said you were a little backward.
Well, I always said you were a little forward.
With my wife!
Ooh!
Consider yourself bird-dogged.
That's my man! Take a boat, Barbados.
Brother, you gots to tell that sweet thing
your time-duplicate body is doomed.
Tomorrow morning, after the festivities.
Yow, baby.
Our little girl is finally getting married.
And to a normal two-eyed human.
He's not good enough for her.
Leela deserves a guy with a dozen eyes.
Quit trying to fix her up with Fly Mutant.
Dearly liked,
we are gathered here before one or more gods, or fewer,
to join this couple in pretty good matrimony.
If anyone objects to this union,
let them speak now or forever hold their peace,
or do something else.
It's been two years, Fry.
We've caught 108 narwhals and set them all free again.
- None of them were Leelu. - But all of them were edible.
Can we at least eat that one? I'm sick of sausage.
I'd know that modified extended tooth anywhere.
To the boats!
Leelu! Leelu! It's me, Fry!
Oh, I've missed you, too, Leelu.
But we'll never be apart again because we care too much for each other.
Fire!
Now, if the couple will sign the wedding license.
I warned him!
I warned him a time paradox duplicate is always doomed.
- What? - Oh, no, my man.
He's essentially dead again.
Relax, ma'am.
Your husband's original body will be repaired within one week.
Not soon enough. Boy needs a daddy.
Cruel runnings, man.
- Woopsy-doopsy, poopsy. - Well, let's get on with it.
Don't let my doomed body and my doomed marriage
stand in the way of your happiness.
No, it's not right.
We don't want our happy day tainted by misfortune and tragedy, do we?
- I'm okay with it. - No, it's not right.
The wedding is off.
Oh, my goodness!
Finally, a happy ending.
And now it's time for Everybody Loves Hypnotoad.
Even in a depression, the entertainment industry thrives.
Are you okay, Leela?
Yeah, I'm just a little down
'cause the only man I'll ever love left me at the altar.
- Plus I live in a dumpster. - You stay out of my dumpster.
We interrupt this episode ofEverybody Loves Hypnotoad
to bring you a special address from Earth President Nixon.
Please, Hypnotoad, it's beyond my control.
No! Don't make me kill myself!
My fellow Earthicans,
I've just received some really great news.
I'm about to close a deal
that will allow us to buy Earth back from the scammers.
That'll teach those scammers and me.
Just when things looked darkest,
I received an e-mail from the Andromeda Galaxy.
It seems we've won their quadrillion-dollar family sweepstakes.
Oh, Lord.
And all I had to do was hand over
our last remaining land and water as collateral.
So assuming all goes...
What's that, Agnew? A telegram?
There... Seems to have been some...
We've been scammed again, people.
Prepare to evacuate Earth. I mean, New Scamedonia.
Na-na-na-na Na-na-na-na
Hey, hey, hey
We took your stuff
All aboard for Neptune!
Oh, I don't want to go to Neptune.
I'll be cold and heavy.
Thanks for the planet, suckers.
It's so cold, my processor is running at peak efficiency.
What are you, a whining machine?
If you want to worry about something, worry about the yetis.
Yetis?
Oh, yetis.
Amy, you speak yeti. What are they saying?
I'm not sure, but it sounds like something to do with...
"Assaulting the interlopers".
Don't mess with me, you ice-crapping snow-honkies.
I just got dumped.
Sweet yeti of the Serengeti, she's gone crazy eddie in the head-y.
- Is that normal? - No.
Perhaps if we were to cook and eat her slightly...
Leave her alone.
She just needs me to cheer her up.
Wanna sword fight, girl?
That male narwhal seems to be upsetting her.
Get us out of here, Captain. Full fast ahead.
Damn whale keepers.
Santa! We forgot he's based on Neptune.
Ho! Ho! Ho!
Oh, my heart's not in it.
I'm too depressed for murder and mayhem.
Try some antidepressants. They're Gummi.
What happened, Santa?
The scammers cheated me out of my naughty list
to use for telemarketing.
Can you imagine the harm they could do with that information?
I wanted to do that harm.
That's it. They've gone too far.
No more running and hiding. It's time to fight back.
Now, let's not resort to violence, Leela.
We're fighting back and you're helping us, you fat holiday idiot.
That hurt.
You're on the naughty list.
So that's our proposal napkin, Mr. President.
We have just enough people and ships to mount a ragtag attack.
You wish, missy.
Dog-danged scammers used our money to build
a fleet of remote-controlled, solid-gold Death Stars.
Ooh! I'd take one of those with a side of chili fries.
We're hopelessly outgunned.
The force is with us, but that's about it.
But we have access to a huge manufacturing complex.
I brought the elves back from vacation
Chained them up and called my holiday friends
Kwanzabot
And the Chanukah zombie
Three mad, wise men Bearing murder and frankincense
- Damn you - Shut up
Now fetch those bunnies by the armful
- Says who? - Says me
Napalm makes them slightly more harmful
No one here goes near that door
This toyshop's going to war
Talmud says '"Be slow to anger'"
Low-down scammers got me seeing red
Got my TIE fighter out of the hangar
Jump back, Jack 'Cause I'm Jewish and I'm undead
Ten hut!
Dreidl, dreidl I made it out of blasting clay
You're nuts
And when it's dry and ready For mercy they will pay
I can't wait eight nights or more
This zombie's going to war
Check, check it out Kwanzabot in the Neptizzle-hizzle
With my inhuman beat box Busy building missiles
They're guided by these cute dancing fairy figures
Careful, little elf That's proximity-triggered
I'm fighting back for Kwanza So the children won't miss it
I'm confused about its meaning But I know it when they dis it
- So, Santa - Yeah, K?
- CZ? - Hey, hey
Let's slay them pimps Come on, pimp my sleigh
Easy with that toy artillery
Torgo's powder's deadly but unstable
- Can they sue for liability? - Certainly not!
Use as much as you are able
This bites
You signed away your rights when you were hired
- Now, let's fight - Let's fight
Okay!
Chestnuts roasting, I'm gonna open fire
Prepare for gore galore
This trinity's going to war
Troops, you are now equipped
with the finest weapons magical elves can build.
As for the battle plan...
And now, to present the battle plan, Commander Zapp Brannigan!
What?
At ease, people.
I was redecorating my undisclosed location,
when I received word of an heroic invasion.
Kif, crouch down and shield my thighs from the cold, for God's sake.
We fight this battle, not for ourselves,
but for our children and our children's children.
Which is why I'm forming a children's brigade.
Will the following youths please step forward?
Cubert Farnsworth.
- Here, sir! - My boy. Oh, God, no!
- Dwight Slim. - Here.
You took his name? Oh, God, no! In several ways!
Assuming the 15th pile of children buys us a few seconds,
we will then execute maneuver 45.
Followed by maneuver 44.
- Forty-six. - Oh, great.
Now I have to start back at the beginning with maneuver two.
One.
Admiral, will we stop attacking at any point
or is this one of those phony-baloney feel-good wars
like the war on drugs?
- What's your name, smart mouth? - Lars Fillmore.
The lovely Leela's on-again, off-again paramour.
Perhaps a suicide mission would knock the insubordination out of you.
Yes, yes, yes.
- We're approaching Earth, sir. - Who?
Oh, planet Earth. The big blue velour marble.
All commanders stand by.
Prepare to transfer battle control to the main duper-computer on my mark!
Ten, nine, eight...
Does anybody mind if I take command?
- No. - Nos.
- Nah. - Nope.
- No, Miss Turanga. - No, I do not.
- No. - It's cool.
All right. Unit one, acquire target A and fire!
Yes! Nailed the children's ship.
Unit 10, Target H, 16-K. Niner, niner, go left!
I mean right.
55-U.
8- R, 2-V.
- Bingo! - Cheating son of a...
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!
It's hopeless! I can't coordinate this many ships!
Perhaps I can help!
Professor, can you wire my head directly into the battle grid?
I can wire anything directly into anything.
I'm the professor!
Then prepare to see a bureaucrat's brain in action.
Finally, I get to save the Earth with deadly lasers
instead of deadly slide shows.
He's champing for a clamping!
Kwa-zang!
I did it! I saved Earth and won back my woman.
- Right, woman? - Oh, Hermes, I've been such a fool.
Truth be, I married you for your sexy potato body,
but I'm staying with you for your sexy potato head.
You haven't seen the last of Barbados Slim!
Now, goodbye forever.
Nice attack, doo-doo heads.
Too bad we have one last trick up our sleeve.
I doubt that.
Remember this, Farnsworth?
Farnsworth? That's me!
My doomsday device!
So it was the scammers!
They sawed off my hand and stole the doomsday device.
It wasn't them.
It was me, Bender.
The master criminal!
So what'll it be?
- Unconditional surrender? - Never!
- Or total destruction? - Also never!
You have 30 seconds. Make up your minds.
Never!
People, I'm sorry.
You've never before heard me say those words,
or even the individual letters that make them up.
But I am. And with a huge amount of modesty,
I humbly beg your forgiveness.
Shut up and keep looking apologized to.
Uh-oh. I have a worrisome shriveling sensation in my sprunjer.
- Yay! Bender! - All right!
Bender, how the Hulk did you end up with the doomsday device?
I was working the long con all along.
While sawing off the professor's hand with an extremely dull saw,
I had some time to think.
So I asked myself, '"Who could use a doomsday device more?
'"The scammers or me, Bender? '"
After several minutes of sawing, I knew the answer.
Me, Bender.
So I retrieved the dummy satchel,
and as soon as I was out of the scammer's control,
I pulled the old switcheroo.
And that's how I saved Earth and am the greatest.
Bender the robot, I'm proud to present you Earth's highest award for swindling.
The Dirty Double-Cross.
I'll always treasure it and immediately hock it.
There, your body's good as new.
Just pop in an executive suppository every few...
- What is it? - Nothing.
It's supposed to be a celebration, Leela.
I mean, come on.
Whimmy-wham-wham-whazle!
I can't help it. I was gonna be married.
I was so happy.
Well, maybe you'll meet someone else someday.
No, you don't understand.
Lars is the only man I'll ever love.
I know it in my heart.
You remember when we first met?
It was right there in the cryogenic lab, eight years ago today.
Meet me there in five minutes. It's important.
Why are you so sad, Leelu?
Him again?
Wait a second, are you two...
Atanarjuat, Fufu, come here! We have to set Leelu free.
Dang. I never should have quit my job at the casino.
Me, neither. But she needs what'll make her happy,
not what'll make me happy.
Goodbye, Leelu.
I don't much know about frozen heads,
but, of course, if it's Mahatma Gandhi, I'll...
- Leela? - Lars?
I... I really have to go, I...
Fry, was this an idiotic trick to get Lars and me back together?
Quite idiotic.
But you don't need to be an idiot to see that you two belong together.
And, Leela, I want what'll make you happy,
not what'll make me happy.
I'm sorry, I really am, but Leela and I just can't be married.
Why not? You obviously love each other. What are you, cousins?
Fry, you deserve to know the truth. It's because...
Nobody move!
Nudar, how did you survive the doom blast?
My doom-proof platinum vest absorbed most of the radiation.
In retrospect, I wish I'd been wearing doom-proof pants,
but you know us nudists.
- Now give me the time code! - I don't have it!
- Nibbler heat-blasted it off my butt. - Not you.
- You! - Lars?
He doesn't have it. He never had it. Fry had it!
But Nibbler heat-blasted it off my butt! I want to stress that part.
My throbbing sprunjer says otherwise. Now where is it?
I'm not afraid of you or your expensive gun.
- Go ahead and shoot. - Oh, yeah?
Then what if I kill the woman you love?
Don't you understand, numb-neck? He doesn't love me!
I've always loved you.
Don't hurt her. I'll give you the code.
- What the... - Four, three, two, one,
boom!
Lars, no!
It's enough just to know you're happy.
You, too.
It's enough to know you're happy with Lars.
Fry, old buddy! It's me! Bender!
My hair!
My larynx!
I'm Lars?
I'm Lars!
Wait for me, Leela! I'll be there in a thousand years.
I'll save my bread And take it with me
Shame you won't be there To see me
Shaking hands with Charles de Gaulle
You can freeze Like a 30th-century man
So I got a job at the Head Museum
and waited for the wonderful day when Leela would arrive.
Everything was perfect until Hermes exploded at our wedding.
That's when I learned that, as a time paradox duplicate,
I, too, was doomed.
I couldn't put Leela through that.
So I called it off. I'm sorry, Leela.
I understand.
That concludes another silly-willy video will.
He was a good man, Leela.
Yeah, you were.
Well, I guess that wraps everything up in a nice, paradox-free bow.
- Not quite, my wrinkly brother. - Right on.
In order for any of this to make any sense at all,
someone must make one final trip back in time
to put the code on Fry's ass in the first place.
Sounds like a job for me, Bender.
Zero, zero, one, one, zero, zero...
Mission accomplished!
- You put the time code on my ass? - Someone's ass.
Oh, and guess what?
I met all these really cool guys with treasure down in the limestone cavern,
so I invited them to stick around
instead of coming up when they were logically supposed to.
No! No! Everyone out of the universe! Quick!
What's the worst that can happen?
Well, we're boned.
One, two One, two, three
All rise Attention
Twenty-four I'm gonna get twenty four
I'm gonna get 24th century on his ass