Futurama s04e10 Episode Script

A Leela of her Own Put down the binoculars.
The wall of that strip club isn't gonna|collapse twice in one day.
I know.
I accept that.
Now I'm|interested in that new pizza parlor.
Makes me pine for my days as a delivery|boy.
"Here's your pizza, " I'd say.
"I didn't order any, " they'd say.
|Then off to my next adventure.
That story stunk.
|Hand me the binoculars.
The owner is from Signas-Five.
Signoids? On our block? They should go|back where they came from.
Society's never gonna make progress until we learn to pretend|to like each other.
Let's make these hideous strangers|feel welcome.
No.
You sure about these chairs? Guidebook|says human legs bend down at knee.
It's okay, Mama.
Anyone complains,|I bend legs up for free.
Customers.
Welcome to Earth Pizza Store.
|Here, sit.
I bend the knees for you.
That's comfy.
What kind of pizza goes in you? Silt? Asbestos?|We got guano, very fresh.
Have any food? Here, try a deep-dish pizza.
|Contains four kinds of things.
- This tastes like vomit.
|- Thank you.
Actually, I mean to offend a little.
|This is awful.
What's wrong?|Was it something Leela said? We come to Earth to start new life,|raise fat, spoiled Earth kids hang many underwear from Earth|clothesline, live Earthican dream.
Don't cry, foreign people.
|I used to work in a pizzeria.
As soon as I stop blasting puke - I'm gonna teach you to sell pizza.
|- Thank you, magic biped.
You save us, sir.
If we cannot make|Earth Pizza, our dream will die.
Just like rats we crushed|to make the wine.
For starters, use quality ingredients.
|Case in point? No more live bees.
When you put pizzas in the oven,|don't get in with them.
Hey, ocupado.
Most important of all|is the big-screen TV.
Families need a TV so they don't|have to talk to each other.
The Earthican pastime.
Blernsball.
Mulligan drives the ball.
It's|going and caught by the shortstop.
Mets lose again.
I haven't seen play|this bad since the days of Bob Uecker.
This is Bob Uecker|saying thanks for Watching.
Mets? Shortstop? Pinching the hitter?|I don't understand this Blernsball.
We'll teach you.
Your pizzeria will|play a game against Planet Express.
- But you'll need nine players.
|- No problem.
Play the ball.
Go, team.
Beat those no-good Signoids.
Show them they stink in a game|they've never played.
Ah, this is why I love Earth.
Beautiful star-brightened day, friendly|Blernsball game with chum pals.
So pleasant for everybody.
Hit by a pitch.
Take your base.
Sorry about that.
I guess I needed|a few more warm-up pitches.
No batter, no batter.
- No batter anymore.
|- Take your base.
I didn't mean to hit you.
|I have trouble with depth perception.
Yeah.
Me too, now.
Hey, batter, batter, batter, batter.
|Hey, duck.
Take your base.
Please, I want to live.
- Can I use bat to protect head?|- Apparently not.
Check out the one-eyed bean machine.
Hooray, I make a score point.
You beaned a run in.
|Better let me pitch.
But I've got a no-hitter going.
|You're right.
Here.
Don't take her out.
|She's a firecracker.
- I'd like to talk to you.
|- Am I under arrest? You're the sleaze bag who owns|the Ultimate Robot Fighting League.
Now I'm the sleaze bag|who owns the New New York Mets.
The Mets?|Those bums are worse than me.
But they don't draw a crowd like you.
|Which is why I want to sign you.
You mean, I'd be the first woman ever|to play major league blernsball? It'd be a publicity stunt.
A one-eyed lady might bring out|the freak show crowd.
Wow, the first woman|ever to play major league blernsball.
- Again, yeah.
But you'd just be-|- Yippee! The first woman ever to play major|league blernsball.
How do I look? - Like a sexy Yogi Berra.
|- Why is your number 7/8? The whole numbers have been retired.
I'm impressed.
|You look just like a ball player.
- Can I pat you on the butt?|- I'm a professional athlete.
So go ahead.
Now I'm too nervous.
The Swedes have already|turned this one into a "laffer".
And that's with two "F's.
"|The crowd is pouring out L.
A.
- style.
Skipper, we're losing the crowd.
|Put in our new novelty act, Leela.
I already put in the circus clown.
But he bunted.
Clowns are|only funny when they swing away.
Your attention please.
|Pitching for the Mets, Turanga Leela.
A one-eyed Woman.
Come on, throw like a girl.
- Go, Leela.
|- Too much eyeliner.
This is history in the making.
Bjornson steps up to the plate,|and Leela delivers.
Bull's-eye.
An inauspicious start for the career|of the first woman blernsballer.
An inauspicious continuation for the|career of the first woman blernsballer.
Bean! Bean! Bean! Bean! Bean It's a three-bean, ball salad.
|The Mets fans love it, though.
They haven't had much|to cheer about this year.
That was great.
You got more publicity|than a cowboy in a shark tank.
Poor Tex.
He was quite a shark.
- Hey!|- Come on! - I win.
|- Sorry.
- How did you get in here?|- As your agent, I have access.
Since when are you my agent? Quiet! Call coming in.
Yes? A big endorsement deal|for Leela? How much? You put a one and two zeros|in front of that, or we pass.
Deal.
- That's great.
How much did you get me?|- One hundred dollars! As a pitcher,|I serve up plenty of bean balls.
So I know good beans when I see them.
- Bean-Bay Beans! They're the beaniest!|Cut! Bean! Bean! Bean! In short order,|Leela has become a fan favorite.
You're the best, babe.
Hang on.
You put a one and two zeros|in front of that, or we pass.
Deal.
- So, what did you get me?|- A thousand and one pesos.
Cut.
Now do one with the bean suit on.
Leela bringing in customers.
This keep up,|we need to buy second sauce toilet.
I want to injure men by throwing stuff|at them, just like you.
Will you sign? Sure thing, sweetie.
|Who should I make it out to? To eBay? That's a popular name today.
|Little "E, " big "B"? Five bucks an autograph, 200 fans, add|a one and two zeros, we got a wad.
I'm doing it for all the female|athletes who need a role model.
- A role model for how to stink.
|- What? Who are you? Jackie Anderson.
|I'm on the team at NNYU.
I was hoping to play in the majors.
Following in my footsteps.
God forbid! Your freak show|is making it impossible for female players|to be taken seriously.
I hope you're proud of yourself.
Show's over, no refunds.
|You heard the robot.
Get out! Fans haven't been cheering for me.
|They've been cheering at me.
Don't be upset, Leela.
|You look really cute in your uniform.
That's what makes it so sad! I thought|I was doing something heroic! You are! What about that little girl|you visited in the hospital who died? You're right.
|I can't let people down anymore.
God's my witness, I vow to earn the|respect of girls and women everywhere! I will become the best|blernsball player of all time! That's statistically impossible.
In 77|innings, you haven't gotten one out.
At this rate, you'll be|the worst player of all time.
Oh.
Then I have a new vow.
|I solemnly swear I will become not the worst|blernsball player of all time! Look! The players who broke|the various color barriers! When will man learn that all races|are equally inferior to robots? If I could be just a little better|than him, I can hold my head high.
He once struck out|when his tongue stuck to a cold bat.
- He tried to catch with an oven mitt!|- It's a crummy hologram.
I'm not a hologram.
|Hank Aaron the 24th.
How could you play so badly?|The original Hank Aaron was great! I was better than great.
- I was the home run king.
|- Neat! So, Hank, the bad Hank,|just how bad were you? My batting average was low.
Low? It was zero! You went your|whole career without getting a hit.
Leela beats that.
She pitched|without ever getting an out! You stink! Junior, she belongs|in the exhibit instead of you! Forget it!|This job's too cushy to give up.
- Wade Boggs, goes down smooth.
|- I don't want to be in this exhibit.
I need your help, so I can be|one tiny iota less pathetic than you.
I can't help you play better|than Tiny lota.
He was great! But I'll teach you all I know.
- Okay, let's see what you can do.
|- She can lodge a ball in your brain.
You better get a batting helmet.
All right, low and away.
Okay, try it again.
But this time,|keep your eye off the ball.
You mean on the ball? - Who's in the hall of fame?|- You're holding the bat upside down.
- Just pitch the ball!|- Okay, eye off the ball.
- Strike!|- Man, you did it, Leela! I didn't hit the batter! I was|pitching and not just belly-itching! Oh, you got that too?|I think there's a rash going around.
Welcome to Fenway where the Mets end|a season that ranks among the worst.
You opened a franchise! Yes.
Our biggest seller|is Leela's Bean Pizza! Six kinds of beans|plus things that look like beans.
Beans, huh? This is great!|How do you make the crust so fizzy? Ancient Signoid secret.
My husband, some hotshot.
|Here's his ancient Signoid secret.
Live hornets.
|We smoosh them right into dough.
- I don't care if it's horse manure.
|- That's good.
I want to buy this franchise.
|How's $100,000? No! We come to Earth|to make pizza, not money! - No, Blek! Other way around.
|- Right.
Offer accepted! Fans, Boston's turning the last game|into a real "squeeeker".
And that's with three "E's"! Two men on,|and they're down to their last out.
It's my last chance to prove|I'm not the worst player ever.
- Put me in.
|- No! We're actually winning this game! You only go in as a joke|when we're eight runs behind! Come on!|Let's see some fundamentals out there! And not clown fundamentals! Darn! Darn! Darn!|Now the bases are loaded! Isn't there a man|who can get one more out?! - I can!|- I repeat.
Isn't there a man on- - I've been training with Hank Aaron!|- The Hank Aaron? - I've trained with a Hank Aaron.
|- All right then get in there and pitch like you've|never pitched like you before! NoW pitching for the Mets,|Turanga Leela! - Bean! Bean! Bean!|- Go, Leela! Go! - Go, Leela!|Put it down the pike! Strike him out! Do it for the hundreds|of women everywhere! NoW pinch-hitting|for the Poindexters, Jackie Anderson! Look! College blernsball's|finest female hitter making her debut against|the worst female anything.
I've never seen anything this weird|and I've seen Mr.
Belvedere naked! Keep cool.
|She's like any other player.
She puts on her sports bra|one arm at a time.
Strike one! Strike one! A personal best! Strike two! This moment is brought|to you by Month Old Franks the hot dogs with experience! A grand slam blern! The Mets lose!|Their season is over! Leela, the first woman ever|to reach the majors will go down as the worst player|in the history of blernsball.
She's taught the world|that being a bum knows no gender.
Tonight we've seen the start|of a great career for the first woman to play|the sport well, Jackie Anderson! - Leela?|- Jackie.
I guess you were right - I'm a lousy role model.
I'm sorry.
|- No, don't be.
- You were an inspiration after all.
|- I was? You were so awful that women set out to|prove they don't stink as bad as you.
That's so kind of you.
|I guess I made a difference after all.
You absolutely did, Leela.
|Now please please retire.
Immediately.
Hey, kid! Catch.
You're still the worst|football player of all time.
Yeah.
Yeah.