Futurama s05e16 Episode Script
4ACV18 - The Devil's Hands Are Idle Playthings
The Devil's Hands Are Idle Playthings Huh? I choose to not understand these signs.
Aha! Bender! I was just|not playing the holophonor.
Yeah, well, you should try|not stinking at it.
Well, I am trying.
|I've been taking lessons.
Lessons! Oh, that's rich! Isn't it time you gave up all hope|of ever improving yourself in any way? I know I should, but I just can't.
Remember those stomach worms|I had that made me smart? I could play the holophonor.
|And it made Leela like me.
Hey, Bender, as long as you know,|I have a holophonor recitaI Tuesday and I'd really like to have|somebody there.
Please? Fine.
I'll go already.
You know, sometimes I wish|your reaI parents were still alive.
Not often, though.
Hey! - Hello, Mrs.
Mellonger.
|- Hello, Philip.
And you must be Mr.
Bender.
|Philip's told me so much about you.
- Is it true that you're a robot?|- I prefer the term "love machine.
" Your kid is great.
- How hard you say you had to hit him?|- Fairly hard.
"The Grumpy SnaiI.
" Sorry.
It's too grumpy! - No! No! Quit! Stop!|- Whoo! Mr.
Bender, I simply|cannot teach your child.
Then good day, madam! We hope to see you soon for tea.
It's hopeless.
I can hear this great music in my head,|but my stupid hands can't keep up.
You know what always cheers me up?|Laughing at other people's misfortunes! Hey, guys.
You missed a great|delivery to space Earth.
- Where you been all afternoon?|- At a concert.
Was it jazz noodling?|My ex-boyfriend Shawn played the sax.
I used to listen for hours while he sat|naked on my couch and improvised.
So musicians really|Rodger your Hammerstein? Yeah.
It's weird.
|Shawn was uneducated, unambitious.
- He was pasty and hunched.
|- Pretty boy.
But when he played, I could sense|this incredible, beautifuI creative souI.
Then one day I found someone else's|couch fibers on his butt.
I couldn't even believe that.
|That's really That could be my beautifuI souI|sitting naked on her couch.
If I could just learn|to play this stupid thing.
Oh, but you can.
You may have to metaphorically|make a deaI with the deviI.
And by deviI, I mean Robot DeviI.
And by metaphorically,|I mean get your coat.
You hit a sour note about|200 years back, Doug! Let's take it from the top.
- Ow!|- Bender! Fry! You've come back|for more eternaI damnation! No, this isn't a religious visit.
|Fry just wants holophonor lessons.
Yep.
I need to get really good|without practicing.
Hell is full of 10-year-olds|who wanted exactly the same thing.
Trouble is, you have what|my old music teacher Mrs.
Mellonger, calls "stupid fingers.
" With hands like that|you'll be lucky to master a belt buckle.
Now, wouldn't it be nice if you had|a pair of robot hands to replace them? Sure would.
Oh, well, goodbye.
Fry, you smelly idiot.
I think he's willing to make some kind|of deaI with the deviI with you.
He is? Great! - Wait, what's the catch?|- No catch.
I'll merely pick a robot at random|from somewhere in the universe probably one you've never even met,|and then I'll remove his hands and switch them for yours.
|It's just the sort of guy I am.
- What do you say?|- I don't know.
- It doesn't seem entirely moraI to-|- Fry, if you don't take this offer I will lose all respect|for you and punch you.
Well, all right.
- You sure I won't know him?|- Definitely probably not.
- Just sign this contract.
|- Wow.
And here we go! I got 100 bucks on RectaI Exam-bot! - Ah!|- Robot DeviI? I get your hands? Oh, what an appallingly ironic outcome! It's not ironic, it's just coincidentaI.
|Now fork over those ladyfingers, cookie! I only put my name on there as a show|of good faith for the other robots.
Stop being such a baby|and chop my hands off.
Oh, very well.
- How'd you do that?|- They're very good hands.
At last! At last I have the power|to make Leela love me! Oh, sorry.
That'll wear off|in a couple of days.
Check it out, everyone!|I'm back from hell - and I've got the Robot DeviI's hands!|- Neat! - Let's see a trick!|- Alrighty.
Somebody called a Robot DeviI's here|to see somebody called Fry.
Uh-oh.
Where'd I go just now? Hello, Fry.
Just dropped by to make sure you're as|happy with our little deaI as I am.
And- Oh, give me back my hands! These things are always|touching me in places.
Yeah, they get around.
|But I'm afraid we had a deaI.
- Looks like I wasted a bus trip.
|- Yes, you did.
Yes, now you can hear|holophonor virtuoso Philip Fry playing 900 of these classic themes in|your own home on this two-record set.
That's over 30 minutes|of music for only $ 14.
99.
Only $ 14.
99 for a two-record set.
|Two records! Oh, Zoidberg, at last you're becoming|a crafty consumer.
Hello?|- Hello? I'll take eight! - A Mr.
Hedonism-bot to see you.
|- Show him in.
- Very good, sir.
|- Oh, Fry! Congratulations! Your latest performance was|as delectable as dipping my bottom over and over into a bath|of the silkiest oils and creams.
Thank you.
That's exactly|what I was going for.
You are the sole diversion in what has|been a pale and unamusing season.
And so I would fain commission|you write an opera.
- But I've never written an opera.
|- And I've never heard one.
Still, if you can keep me amused|through the overture I shall consider it a smashing success.
But I wouldn't even know|what to write about.
Unless Okay, I'll do it.
|If I can make it about Leela.
Me? Really? A man writing an opera about a woman? Oh, sirrah.
How deliciously absurd.
|I shall see you at the premiere.
- Is it part of the opera?|- Leela! You shouldn't be listening.
- I don't want you to hear it till it's done.
|- But it's so beautifuI.
So is a peacock, but you don't|eat it untiI it's cooked.
This has to be perfect.
I want you to hear exactly|what I hear when I think about you.
Oh, Fry.
All this time you've had|this incredible gift and I never knew.
I've been a fooI.
|A fully justified, prudent fooI.
- Ah! They're so cold!|And yet hell is so hot! Can I have my hands?|- No! You're not nice! Bender, this is a surprise.
|For you, finding me in the refrigerator! True, but at least I don't have|the hiccups anymore.
What up? Oh, well, it so happens I'm in the mood|to make a deaI with you.
- Forget it, you can't tempt me.
|- Really? There's nothing you want? I forgot you could tempt me|with things I want.
I suppose I've always wondered what|it would be like to be more annoying.
Oh.
Nothing simpler.
And all I ask in return is your hands|to replace these bony hot dogs.
Grabby and Squeezy? Never!|I love these guys! Is there anything else|you would part with? No! Nothing! Ain't gonna happen.
Yes! With this built-in stadium air horn,|I can really annoy people! And all it cost me was my crotch plate.
You certainly are a shrewd|businessman, Bender.
Now find someone|and give them a good blast.
Yeah! That'll teach|the first person I see a lesson.
My ridiculously circuitous plan|is one quarter complete.
Well, Fry's opera premieres|tomorrow night.
I'm off to find a pair of formaI gloves|that'll fit over my enormous forearms.
- Pretty annoying, huh, Leela?|- What? Are you talking? - Oh, God, I'm deaf!|- Oops! I'm so, so sorry, Leela.
|I just wanted to annoy you.
What? Oh, this is horrible!|I won't be able to hear Fry's opera.
Oh, how delightfully ironic.
It's not ironic.
It's just mean.
|Take this: Oh! Out of aerosoI.
Also ironic.
Oh, yeah? Well, bite my shiny metaI- Oh, no! Nobody tell Fry I'm deaf.
If he found out I couldn't hear his opera,|it'd break his heart.
Okay, Deafo.
Courtesans and gentle fops,|I bid you welcome to my opera.
Let us cavort like the Greeks of old.
|You know the ones I mean.
- Hurrah!|- Yay, Fry! I watch TV with that guy! Who is this one-eyed|Female baby Moses? With courage in|Her female baby smile? A savior from the stars|or something stranger still? or just a lonely|Filthy, starving child? Amy, Fry's looking at me.
|What am I supposed to be feeling? Ah.
Leela, Leela, Leela, save him Save Fry, save Fry|Godzilla will devour him As for me, I must be off|To have my doctor check this cough Goodbye I don't recall ever fighting Godzilla.
|But that is so what I would've done.
One diet double martini, please.
- And for you, sir?|- I'll just have a Shirley Hemple.
Extra! Extra!|World's greatest opera only half over! Half over? Oh! - I'd give anything to hear the rest.
|- Anything? Thank you, sir.
|Now, as I was saying, anything? Because I can give you new robotic ears.
What?|You can give me new ears? Wait.
What seemingly reasonable|thing do you want in return? - Just your hands, my dear.
|- Whatever you said, forget it.
All right, then.
Just one hand.
Just my left hand? Please take your seats for Act 2.
|I'm not done vomiting! I can't stand it! - Okay! You can have my hand.
|- WonderfuI! Just sign here.
Calculon, old friend,|I'm afraid I need your ears.
Well, I do owe you for giving me|this unholy acting talent! I can hear!|I can hear like a safecracker! - Hey, aren't you gonna take my hand?|- In good time.
You go enjoy the opera.
To win Leela's heart|With the holophonor's art I need hands|of transcendental quickness Well, I don't see any danger|In gambling with a stranger For my head is|of a most amazing thickness I'm stupid, I'm stupid|I'm stupider than you I'm stupider than you|In every way Stupider?|This opera's as lousy as it is brilliant! Your Iyrics lack subtlety.
You can't just have your characters|announce how they feeI.
- That makes me feeI angry!|- Look, what do you want? I want my hands back Never! A deal's a deal|Even with a dirty dealer Very well, then I'll take|What I want from Leela Whoa! Leela has promised me her hand Fry, you do not understand I should have revealed|I'd been deafened by Bender The shame, the shame But I feared you'd stop writing|This musical splendor Deception's the curse|of my whimsical gender He gave me mechanical ears Effective, though just a bit garish In return, without shedding a tear|I agreed that I'd give him my hand In marriage - Huh?|- What? You'll give me your hand in marriage Is this really happening|or just being staged? - It can't be real|- Not if Leela is engaged That isn't what I meant|That isn't what I signed You should have checked|The wording in the fine Print - "I'll give you my hand "|- In marriage "The use of words expressing something|other than their literal intention" Now that is irony I will marry her now|And confine her to hell How droll, how droll Where Styx is a river|And not just a band Though they'll play our reception|If all goes as planned Unless, Fry, you surrender|My hands Destiny has cheated me|By forcing me to decide upon The woman that I idolize|or the hands of an automaton Without these hands I can't complete|The opera that was captivating her But if I keep them|And she marries him Then he probably won't|Want me dating her Bravo! Encore! I can't believe the devil|Is so unforgiving I can't believe|Everybody's just ad-libbing By the power vested in me|By the state of New New York No! Stop! Take my hands! You evil, metal dork Surgery in an opera?|How wonderfully decadent! And just as I was beginning|to lose interest.
Jombee, the chocolate icing.
Oh.
Oh, my, yes.
My hands!|My horrible human hands! - And what did you do to my nails?|- I cleaned them.
Now, if you'll excuse me,|it's my poker night and I feeI lucky.
So it's back to hell for me.
|Come on, Nixon! Less reality, more fantasy!|Resume the opera! But I can't play anymore! Yes, you can! The beauty was|in your heart, not your hands! The music's bad|and you should feeI bad! Ah! Oh! Whoa! Hey! Whoa.
Extra! Extra!|Greatest opera of all time sucks! I'll take eight.
Please don't stop playing, Fry.
I wanna hear how it ends.
Aha! Bender! I was just|not playing the holophonor.
Yeah, well, you should try|not stinking at it.
Well, I am trying.
|I've been taking lessons.
Lessons! Oh, that's rich! Isn't it time you gave up all hope|of ever improving yourself in any way? I know I should, but I just can't.
Remember those stomach worms|I had that made me smart? I could play the holophonor.
|And it made Leela like me.
Hey, Bender, as long as you know,|I have a holophonor recitaI Tuesday and I'd really like to have|somebody there.
Please? Fine.
I'll go already.
You know, sometimes I wish|your reaI parents were still alive.
Not often, though.
Hey! - Hello, Mrs.
Mellonger.
|- Hello, Philip.
And you must be Mr.
Bender.
|Philip's told me so much about you.
- Is it true that you're a robot?|- I prefer the term "love machine.
" Your kid is great.
- How hard you say you had to hit him?|- Fairly hard.
"The Grumpy SnaiI.
" Sorry.
It's too grumpy! - No! No! Quit! Stop!|- Whoo! Mr.
Bender, I simply|cannot teach your child.
Then good day, madam! We hope to see you soon for tea.
It's hopeless.
I can hear this great music in my head,|but my stupid hands can't keep up.
You know what always cheers me up?|Laughing at other people's misfortunes! Hey, guys.
You missed a great|delivery to space Earth.
- Where you been all afternoon?|- At a concert.
Was it jazz noodling?|My ex-boyfriend Shawn played the sax.
I used to listen for hours while he sat|naked on my couch and improvised.
So musicians really|Rodger your Hammerstein? Yeah.
It's weird.
|Shawn was uneducated, unambitious.
- He was pasty and hunched.
|- Pretty boy.
But when he played, I could sense|this incredible, beautifuI creative souI.
Then one day I found someone else's|couch fibers on his butt.
I couldn't even believe that.
|That's really That could be my beautifuI souI|sitting naked on her couch.
If I could just learn|to play this stupid thing.
Oh, but you can.
You may have to metaphorically|make a deaI with the deviI.
And by deviI, I mean Robot DeviI.
And by metaphorically,|I mean get your coat.
You hit a sour note about|200 years back, Doug! Let's take it from the top.
- Ow!|- Bender! Fry! You've come back|for more eternaI damnation! No, this isn't a religious visit.
|Fry just wants holophonor lessons.
Yep.
I need to get really good|without practicing.
Hell is full of 10-year-olds|who wanted exactly the same thing.
Trouble is, you have what|my old music teacher Mrs.
Mellonger, calls "stupid fingers.
" With hands like that|you'll be lucky to master a belt buckle.
Now, wouldn't it be nice if you had|a pair of robot hands to replace them? Sure would.
Oh, well, goodbye.
Fry, you smelly idiot.
I think he's willing to make some kind|of deaI with the deviI with you.
He is? Great! - Wait, what's the catch?|- No catch.
I'll merely pick a robot at random|from somewhere in the universe probably one you've never even met,|and then I'll remove his hands and switch them for yours.
|It's just the sort of guy I am.
- What do you say?|- I don't know.
- It doesn't seem entirely moraI to-|- Fry, if you don't take this offer I will lose all respect|for you and punch you.
Well, all right.
- You sure I won't know him?|- Definitely probably not.
- Just sign this contract.
|- Wow.
And here we go! I got 100 bucks on RectaI Exam-bot! - Ah!|- Robot DeviI? I get your hands? Oh, what an appallingly ironic outcome! It's not ironic, it's just coincidentaI.
|Now fork over those ladyfingers, cookie! I only put my name on there as a show|of good faith for the other robots.
Stop being such a baby|and chop my hands off.
Oh, very well.
- How'd you do that?|- They're very good hands.
At last! At last I have the power|to make Leela love me! Oh, sorry.
That'll wear off|in a couple of days.
Check it out, everyone!|I'm back from hell - and I've got the Robot DeviI's hands!|- Neat! - Let's see a trick!|- Alrighty.
Somebody called a Robot DeviI's here|to see somebody called Fry.
Uh-oh.
Where'd I go just now? Hello, Fry.
Just dropped by to make sure you're as|happy with our little deaI as I am.
And- Oh, give me back my hands! These things are always|touching me in places.
Yeah, they get around.
|But I'm afraid we had a deaI.
- Looks like I wasted a bus trip.
|- Yes, you did.
Yes, now you can hear|holophonor virtuoso Philip Fry playing 900 of these classic themes in|your own home on this two-record set.
That's over 30 minutes|of music for only $ 14.
99.
Only $ 14.
99 for a two-record set.
|Two records! Oh, Zoidberg, at last you're becoming|a crafty consumer.
Hello?|- Hello? I'll take eight! - A Mr.
Hedonism-bot to see you.
|- Show him in.
- Very good, sir.
|- Oh, Fry! Congratulations! Your latest performance was|as delectable as dipping my bottom over and over into a bath|of the silkiest oils and creams.
Thank you.
That's exactly|what I was going for.
You are the sole diversion in what has|been a pale and unamusing season.
And so I would fain commission|you write an opera.
- But I've never written an opera.
|- And I've never heard one.
Still, if you can keep me amused|through the overture I shall consider it a smashing success.
But I wouldn't even know|what to write about.
Unless Okay, I'll do it.
|If I can make it about Leela.
Me? Really? A man writing an opera about a woman? Oh, sirrah.
How deliciously absurd.
|I shall see you at the premiere.
- Is it part of the opera?|- Leela! You shouldn't be listening.
- I don't want you to hear it till it's done.
|- But it's so beautifuI.
So is a peacock, but you don't|eat it untiI it's cooked.
This has to be perfect.
I want you to hear exactly|what I hear when I think about you.
Oh, Fry.
All this time you've had|this incredible gift and I never knew.
I've been a fooI.
|A fully justified, prudent fooI.
- Ah! They're so cold!|And yet hell is so hot! Can I have my hands?|- No! You're not nice! Bender, this is a surprise.
|For you, finding me in the refrigerator! True, but at least I don't have|the hiccups anymore.
What up? Oh, well, it so happens I'm in the mood|to make a deaI with you.
- Forget it, you can't tempt me.
|- Really? There's nothing you want? I forgot you could tempt me|with things I want.
I suppose I've always wondered what|it would be like to be more annoying.
Oh.
Nothing simpler.
And all I ask in return is your hands|to replace these bony hot dogs.
Grabby and Squeezy? Never!|I love these guys! Is there anything else|you would part with? No! Nothing! Ain't gonna happen.
Yes! With this built-in stadium air horn,|I can really annoy people! And all it cost me was my crotch plate.
You certainly are a shrewd|businessman, Bender.
Now find someone|and give them a good blast.
Yeah! That'll teach|the first person I see a lesson.
My ridiculously circuitous plan|is one quarter complete.
Well, Fry's opera premieres|tomorrow night.
I'm off to find a pair of formaI gloves|that'll fit over my enormous forearms.
- Pretty annoying, huh, Leela?|- What? Are you talking? - Oh, God, I'm deaf!|- Oops! I'm so, so sorry, Leela.
|I just wanted to annoy you.
What? Oh, this is horrible!|I won't be able to hear Fry's opera.
Oh, how delightfully ironic.
It's not ironic.
It's just mean.
|Take this: Oh! Out of aerosoI.
Also ironic.
Oh, yeah? Well, bite my shiny metaI- Oh, no! Nobody tell Fry I'm deaf.
If he found out I couldn't hear his opera,|it'd break his heart.
Okay, Deafo.
Courtesans and gentle fops,|I bid you welcome to my opera.
Let us cavort like the Greeks of old.
|You know the ones I mean.
- Hurrah!|- Yay, Fry! I watch TV with that guy! Who is this one-eyed|Female baby Moses? With courage in|Her female baby smile? A savior from the stars|or something stranger still? or just a lonely|Filthy, starving child? Amy, Fry's looking at me.
|What am I supposed to be feeling? Ah.
Leela, Leela, Leela, save him Save Fry, save Fry|Godzilla will devour him As for me, I must be off|To have my doctor check this cough Goodbye I don't recall ever fighting Godzilla.
|But that is so what I would've done.
One diet double martini, please.
- And for you, sir?|- I'll just have a Shirley Hemple.
Extra! Extra!|World's greatest opera only half over! Half over? Oh! - I'd give anything to hear the rest.
|- Anything? Thank you, sir.
|Now, as I was saying, anything? Because I can give you new robotic ears.
What?|You can give me new ears? Wait.
What seemingly reasonable|thing do you want in return? - Just your hands, my dear.
|- Whatever you said, forget it.
All right, then.
Just one hand.
Just my left hand? Please take your seats for Act 2.
|I'm not done vomiting! I can't stand it! - Okay! You can have my hand.
|- WonderfuI! Just sign here.
Calculon, old friend,|I'm afraid I need your ears.
Well, I do owe you for giving me|this unholy acting talent! I can hear!|I can hear like a safecracker! - Hey, aren't you gonna take my hand?|- In good time.
You go enjoy the opera.
To win Leela's heart|With the holophonor's art I need hands|of transcendental quickness Well, I don't see any danger|In gambling with a stranger For my head is|of a most amazing thickness I'm stupid, I'm stupid|I'm stupider than you I'm stupider than you|In every way Stupider?|This opera's as lousy as it is brilliant! Your Iyrics lack subtlety.
You can't just have your characters|announce how they feeI.
- That makes me feeI angry!|- Look, what do you want? I want my hands back Never! A deal's a deal|Even with a dirty dealer Very well, then I'll take|What I want from Leela Whoa! Leela has promised me her hand Fry, you do not understand I should have revealed|I'd been deafened by Bender The shame, the shame But I feared you'd stop writing|This musical splendor Deception's the curse|of my whimsical gender He gave me mechanical ears Effective, though just a bit garish In return, without shedding a tear|I agreed that I'd give him my hand In marriage - Huh?|- What? You'll give me your hand in marriage Is this really happening|or just being staged? - It can't be real|- Not if Leela is engaged That isn't what I meant|That isn't what I signed You should have checked|The wording in the fine Print - "I'll give you my hand "|- In marriage "The use of words expressing something|other than their literal intention" Now that is irony I will marry her now|And confine her to hell How droll, how droll Where Styx is a river|And not just a band Though they'll play our reception|If all goes as planned Unless, Fry, you surrender|My hands Destiny has cheated me|By forcing me to decide upon The woman that I idolize|or the hands of an automaton Without these hands I can't complete|The opera that was captivating her But if I keep them|And she marries him Then he probably won't|Want me dating her Bravo! Encore! I can't believe the devil|Is so unforgiving I can't believe|Everybody's just ad-libbing By the power vested in me|By the state of New New York No! Stop! Take my hands! You evil, metal dork Surgery in an opera?|How wonderfully decadent! And just as I was beginning|to lose interest.
Jombee, the chocolate icing.
Oh.
Oh, my, yes.
My hands!|My horrible human hands! - And what did you do to my nails?|- I cleaned them.
Now, if you'll excuse me,|it's my poker night and I feeI lucky.
So it's back to hell for me.
|Come on, Nixon! Less reality, more fantasy!|Resume the opera! But I can't play anymore! Yes, you can! The beauty was|in your heart, not your hands! The music's bad|and you should feeI bad! Ah! Oh! Whoa! Hey! Whoa.
Extra! Extra!|Greatest opera of all time sucks! I'll take eight.
Please don't stop playing, Fry.
I wanna hear how it ends.