Futurama s04e01 Episode Script

Roswell That Ends Well Never seen a supernova blow but if it's like my Chevy Nova,|it'll light up the sky.
Anyone who misses this|will regret it forever.
- Fry, could you go make some popcorn?|- Okay.
Let's go, microwave.
|I'm in a hurry here.
- What smells like blue?|- Fry, get up here.
It's starting.
Focus.
- Oh.
|- Oh, boy.
Oh, no.
Uh-oh.
Which crazy thing happening|are you guys screaming about? My head is spinning.
My popcorn's done.
It's less popped than ever.
I don't know what happened, but we've|taken on clocks.
Let's go home.
Why is there so little traffic? What's this layer of ozone?|That's never been there before.
Such noises.
There's no global-positioning signal.
|Navigation is failing.
- We're gonna crash!|- Not if I can help it.
I guess I can't.
|Everyone put on your seat belts.
Those cost more lives than they save.
- Bender, are you okay?|- Don't know.
I'll try to move my feet.
Here's the plan.
Zoidberg, pick up|the pieces.
Everyone else, take five.
Zoidberg picks up another piece.
|The crowd goes wild.
What is? In all my years of covering|top-secret discoveries with sheets I've never dramatically revealed|anything this shocking.
Dun-dun-dun! The debris from an alien spaceship.
Son, I think I can safely say:|Ahhh! As you can see, 1947 is going|to be an eventful year for the town of Roswell,|New Mexico.
Remarkable.
According to the precision digital|chronograph, it's July 9th, 1947 which explains why the|chronograph turned into this calendar.
You mean we traveled through time? Some idiot must have put metal|in the microwave.
- Yo.
|- And the microwave radiation combined with gravitons|and graviolies from the supernova - blasted us through time.
|- Seen today's news? "Gym Renovations on Schedule"?|What a load.
No, over here.
|"Flying Saucer Captured.
" That's no flying saucer.
|That's my ass.
My God.
This means the flying saucer|that crashed in Roswell was us.
And the alien they captured|was was? Hello.
Ugh.
What are you guys doing tonight?|I'm up for whatever.
We tore the universe a new space hole.
|But it's clenching shut fast.
Our only hope to get back to our time|is to go back through within, say exactly 24 hours.
Ship's fixed except for the cup holder.
|It should be operational in 10 hours.
You've got eight.
|But more urgent is the microwave.
Without one, we have no hope|of returning to the future.
I'm sure we can buy one somewhere.
You sneak onto the Army base|and rescue Bender's body.
I'll visit my grandfather, Enus.
|He was stationed at Roswell.
Stay away from him, dimwitted monkey!|You mustn't interfere with the past.
Don't do anything that affects anything,|unless you were supposed to - in which case, don't not do it.
|- Got it.
If you were to kill your grandfather,|you'd cease to exist.
But existing is basically all I do! - What is your purpose here?|- All right, officer, I'll move along.
Why did you come to Earth? Not a day goes by|I don't ask myself that.
Enus! I want that toilet so clean|I could eat off it.
Because I intend to.
- Gadzooks, sarge.
|It's my grandfather, Enus.
Now, prepare my lunch and place it|in the latrine at 1200 hours.
That jeep's gonna hit him,|and I won't exist anymore! You almost got yourself run over.
Then I am lucky you knocked me|onto this pile of rusty bayonets.
Stop interfering with history.
I don't|want to have to memorize new kings.
I had no choice.
|I was about to not exist.
I could feel myself fading away,|like Greg Kinnear.
Thanks, soldier.
|I'm off to make sarge's lunch.
Handling raw chicken? Best part|of the job.
Finger-licking good.
We gotta get you out of here.
|Everything's gonna be all right, Dad.
- Gadzooks, I'd better ask sarge.
|- No time.
Run! Run to safety.
This experiment will determine|what food, if any, the alien eats.
A buffet.
Oh, if only I had|my wallet with me.
Um, it's free.
Get me the president.
Fry's from this time.
I'll talk like|him.
Yo, Homes, we need a microwave.
Never heard of that brand.
|What you want is the Gas Princess.
This has broilers,|casserole indicator, ironing board and a foot-soaking tub, since, as a|woman, you'll be in front of it all day.
I'm sorry.
Now, I'll ax you again.
|Where can we find a microwave? She's hysterical, so I'll talk to you.
This oven takes only five hours|to cook a roast.
That's good news.
You know, you really|don't cook enough roasts, Leela.
Oh.
Women.
Thank God I got you off|that Army base.
You sure are helpful.
You got|anything to eat in that lunch box? What-?|Snacks.
Hey, that's my brain! Them crackers cut my mouth up something|bad.
Let's stop off for a malt.
- See that waitress?|- I know what I want for dessert.
- That's my fiancìe, Mildred.
|- Grandma Mildred? No dessert.
Okey-doke.
And for you, snuggums? I'll have a pie|with a fried egg on top.
You ought to marry her|and father children right away.
Did you ever get the feeling you're only going with girls|because you're supposed to? What?! Don't ever say or think that.
|Just concentrate on staying alive.
Fire! Look out! - You almost got neutered.
|- Ain't as bad as killed.
For me it is.
|I'm getting you out of here.
Ow! We're in the middle of nowhere,|the safest part.
Just stay put and enjoy this calendar.
Safe and sound.
|Finally, I can continue to exist.
Three, two, one.
And you are out of here.
- What'll you folks have?|- I'll have soylent green with a soylent orange|and soylent coleslaw.
- Pardon?|- It's the 20th century.
I'll have a croque monsieur, paella,|two mutton pills and a stein of mead.
- I'll have an injection of Fem-a-slim.
|- Two chili dogs coming up.
Settle in.
|Without a microwave, we're trapped.
Oh, lord! We'll have to endure|the horrible music of the Big Bopper and then the terrible tragedy|of his death.
There's a microwave radar dish|at the Army base.
We could steal it.
That would alter history.
|Above all else it is our sacred duty to preserve|the past exactly as it was.
- Well, I killed my grandfather.
|- Wha-? - Wait, why do you still exist?|- I don't know.
Maybe God loves me.
Killed? In an atomic blast? No, I don't take solace in the fact that the implosion trigger|functioned perfectly.
There, there.
|If it makes you feel any better he was vaporized,|so he can't come back as a zombie.
- I'm not worried about that.
|- Then you're braver than I.
You remind me of Enus.
|Mind walking me home? How far is it? - Welcome, President Truman.
|- This visit's top-secret.
No one's to know,|except officers, scientists and a conspiracy nut|who no one will believe.
Our experts have reassembled the parts|from the alien ship into its original design.
I want this sent to Area 51 for study.
Where we're building|the fake moon landing? We'll have to really land|on the moon.
Invent NASA and tell them.
If you come in peace, surrender.
If|you're here to make war, we surrender.
The important thing is,|I'm meeting new people.
What's your mission? Are you planning|a kind of alien-human hybrid? - Are you coming on to me?|- I take exception to that.
- I'm not hearing a no.
|- Nerts to this crab.
We'll have to do an old-fashioned|alien autopsy.
Hooray! Every little thing reminds me of Enus.
I know how you feel.
|My grandfather died recently.
It's all so sad.
At times like this I just need someone to hold me.
Mm.
You like holding me, don't you? Know what always cheers you up?|Baking me sugar cookies.
How about these cookies, sugar? I shouldn't be here.
|I shouldn't exist.
But I do exist.
Which proves|you can't really be my grandma- - Ugh.
|- Oh, my God! Wha-? What the hell have you done?! Relax.
She can't be my grandmother.
|I figured it out.
Of course she's your grandmother,|you perverted dope.
Look.
Come back to bed, dearie.
Impossible.
If she's my grandmother,|who's my grandfather? Isn't it obvious? You are.
Did you say something, dearie?|I'm a bit hard of hearing.
Commencing excavation|of subject's chest cavity.
And in this corner, Zoidberg.
Come on, lighten up.
|What is this, a funeral? Heart.
|- Take.
I've got four of them.
- Stomach contents.
One deviled egg.
|- Deviled egg? The same deviled egg.
- Snap out of it!|- Start the ship.
Let's steal the radar dish|and get back to our own time.
Won't that change history? A lesson in not changing history|from Mr.
I'm-my-own-grandpa.
Let's get the hell out of here.
|Screw history.
UFO! UFO! Don't cut that.
I need that to speak.
Holy-|- Great Roosevelt's ghost! Hi-ya! Ya! Ya! Ya! Take this, Mr.
President.
Sir.
Gah! Ah! Blecch! The president is gagging|on my gas bladder.
What an honor.
Wha-? Oh, right.
- Enus!|He's dead.
Sorry! - Yay!|- Whoopee! - Choke on that, causality!|-1947 can kiss my shiny metal- Ahh! - We've got to go back for Bender.
|- Impossible! The time hole is closing.
If we don't leave now, we'll never|get back to the 31st century.
Whoa! Bender! - There, good as new.
|- Don't you need this one? Oh, no.
That's my- Gotcha.
Oh, poor Bender.
He must be so lonely right now,|trapped 1000 years in the past.
Hey, wait a second.
- Anything?|- No.
Wait! Oh! Stupid jerk.
|- He's alive.
- Oh, ho!|- Whee! Bender! What was it like lying|in that hole for 1000 years? - I was enjoying it until you showed up.
|- Now everything is back as it was.
If history doesn't care|that our degenerate friend, Fry is his own grandfather,|who are we to judge? Amen.