Futurama s06e06 Episode Script

I fear I may not survive this war reenactment.
I can't believe we're only This is every bit as fun as the real Civil War.
Not the Civil War, Private.
We're reenacting the Sith-il War.
Sith? What the Hoth? Enemy invaders! Up in yonder sky! I am Darth Stroyer.
Darth Stroyer? That's the stupidest name I've ever heard.
Let's hear the rest.
Darth Trocious.
Darth Sploder.
Darth Urderer.
Darth It-head.
Company, attack! Don't fire until you see the greens of their eyes! It saves on bullets.
I shall rip out your heart and show it to you.
It is done.
The candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long.
You're dead.
No, I'm just very old.
Whoa.
That's good acting.
It's payback time, Sploder.
Tell my mother to pick me up outside Quiznos.
That's three dead.
Let's pick up the pace, people.
At this point in the actual war, the death toll was 98 million.
You humans and your fragile organs.
One little stab to the goo, and You're dead, Earth man.
Cruel fate, I'm dead.
They're putting me in my Sunday suit and shoving me in a wooden box.
Now they're lowering me into the cold, cold ground.
Hello, here come the worms.
If you were really dead, you wouldn't be laughing so hard.
Yeah, death's a big deal to you flesh bags.
But in case you didn't notice, I'm a robot.
So? What if something heavy fell on you, like a church? You could still die.
Nuh-uh! My wireless backup unit saves a copy of me every day.
So, if my body gets killed, big whoop, I just download into another body.
I'm immortal, baby.
What? Then how come you always scream so much when you're in danger? I never said I wasn't a drama queen.
And the winner of the war is Let me just cross-check my tabulation here.
Factor in the corsages for the widows Hurry up, you number-crunching crumb-nuncher! Everybody but me is dying of old age! Okay.
The winners, at a net cost of only $12 per life cut tragically short, our Sith Overlords! - Yeah! - Yes! Hot diggity.
I mean, Supreme diggity.
Good war, good war, good war It may have been a fake war, but my scuffed knee is all too real.
I've got pains in joints I had removed a century ago.
Bender, bring me my soft chair with the wheels on it.
- Your wheelchair? - I don't need a wheelchair! The one with the wheels! Poor flimsy humans.
Don't you wish you were flawless like me? A towering inferno of physical perfection? I hate to pop your blimp-like ego, but you are not perfect.
- Am so.
- Are not.
- Is too! - Says who? Says the only human whose opinion I even remotely respect.
Inspector 5, the best inspector a kid could want.
The day I was built, he looked me over, probably with tears of pride in his eyes, and proclaimed to all the world, by means of this scrap of paper, that I was perfect and infallible in every way.
Hey, Mr.
Perfect, you wet the chair.
It wasn't me.
Must be some of that urine you're all so proud of.
That's not urine.
It's oil.
Impossible.
I'm triple-sealed to prevent any chance of You call that an ink defense? Goodbye, friends.
What could have caused the leak? Excessive heat, on account of I'm so hot? Alas, no.
Oh, Bender, I'm afraid it's a symptom of a fatal defect.
Yeah, fatal, schmatal.
If I die, I can just download my backup copy into a new, equally fabulous body.
That's just it.
You can't! You were built without a backup unit! There's no backup copy of me? That's what I just said, you mortal coil.
So, if I die You die.
Or as you put it Excuse me for a moment.
No! I can't believe it! I'm gonna die! How much time does he have left, Professor? Between a minute and a billion years.
Well, at least you can plan accordingly.
Dying sucks butt! How do you living beings cope with mortality? - Violent outbursts.
- General sluttiness.
Thanks to denial, I'm immortal.
Damn it, I'm supposed to be perfect! Inspector 5 gave me his blessing! How could he bring me into this world knowing I would die? So you wish you were never born, maybe? Yes, anything less than immortality is a complete waste of time! Then suicide it is.
Step into my office.
I'll give you a nice Kevorking.
Not until I hunt down Inspector 5 and beat an explanation out of him! I'm all for a good beating, but you'll never find him.
Product inspectors are bureaucrats, faceless bean-counters who blend into the woodwork.
I beg to differ.
Stinking bureaucrats.
I hate them! Then again, you might be able to find Inspector 5 with the help of another seasoned bureaucrat.
Hermes, old pal.
Old pal? Time heals all wounds.
You know what? I will help you, but only to prove I'm not just a paper-pushing file jockey.
Will you be taking your portable filing cabinet? None of your beeswax.
I'll only be away an hour, but I'm counting on you to do the all-critical filing in my absence.
Shall we review alphabetical order? A, B, C, D Get out of my office! Yes, I'd like to request a death certificate.
Sorry, that's Building C.
The Central Bureaucracy maintains records on all bureaucrats.
We should be able to look up Inspector 5.
Application for ingress approved.
And the other potential entrant? - He's my pencil sharpener.
- You betcha! Proceed.
I maintain a cubicle here for weekend getaways.
Wow.
Until now, I thought giant cubes were exciting.
I did like the part where they screamed.
This is mine, right next to the center square.
Sorry, Hermes, I drank all your Wite-Out.
Once I log in, I can access Inspector 5's profile.
Damn it, it won't go on! That's because you're not me.
Hooray, it won't go on! The bureaucra-scan won't let anyone but the assigned bureaucrat log in.
Also, you have a rectangular mass in your colon.
That's a calculator.
I ate it to gain its power.
You locate Inspector 5 while I slip into my ass-kicking feet.
Sweet file-not-found of Puget Sound.
His record's been blanked.
Oh, man! How am I gonna find some anonymous guy I don't know anything about? I recommend the men's room at the TWA Terminal.
Okay, just file it alphabetically.
A, B, C, D Well, this requires a little extra thought.
I'm a natural.
The information we need will be here, in the physical files.
Those bastards won't know what leafed through them.
It's on.
No! This is impossible! Quit blacking out and look at this.
"Inspector 1, 2, 3, 4, 6.
" There's no trace of Inspector 5! But 5's the one we want! Maybe if I kicked the asses of Inspector 2, plus Inspector 3 Addition never solved anything, man.
Let's cut our losses and go home.
So I'm doomed to die, and I'll never even get to punch whoever's responsible? What's the point? Bender, no! Suicide isn't necessarily the answer.
It's not a suicide booth, you lard-ass.
It's a phone booth.
They have phones in booths now? Finally, I don't have to lug this cell phone around.
Who the hell is this? How did you get this number? Is this the robot company? 'Cause I have a complaint about a defective robot.
His name is me! A defective robot, you say? Stay right there, dearie.
I'll have tech support take care of you.
Well, things are starting to look up.
Look up! Who did you call? Dial-a-bomb? No, I just told the robot company I was defective.
You dumb cocktail shaker! Mom won't allow a defective product to tarnish her good name! She'll kill you! Big whoop.
I'll just download into a new Oh, right.
If I die, I die.
Speaking of which You're right.
You're right.
You're right.
That's what you get for calling tech support.
I can't run anymore.
I'll have to skip.
Just a few more feet.
We have to get to that pile of dead bears by 7:38.
A pile of dead bears can only mean one thing.
But what? It's the 7:38! Jump! Shoot! - Someone said shoot.
- Well, we're boned.
- No, we're not! We just got to limbo.
But I'm not designed to bend that low, not without limbo music.
That'll do it! Ow! Ow! Ow! - We're gonna get fired.
- Someone said fire.
- We did it! - Twelve straight hours of limbo.
I haven't done that since my honeymoon.
Hermes, Hermes, remember that flock of bats? - I sure do.
- That was fun.
Where are we? I have no idea.
Hey, we're just a stone's throw from Tijuana.
See? A rock has fallen here, in the outskirts of Tijuana.
- Is it within the city limit? - I think, yes.
Told you.
Hey, you want to celebrate our escape? Maybe grab a shot of tequila and take in a big-league cockfight? Sure.
No, wait.
I was built in Tijuana.
Maybe Inspector 5 still works there.
He better do some explaining before I mash up some face guacamole.
He's Mexican, I'm Mexican.
Let me handle this.
Si! Ouch-o! Here are our passports, visas, and Homeland Security permission slips, notarized and starched.
Okay.
I also would have accepted a bribe.
Nice work, butterball.
You know, I was in Italy last week.
My birthplace.
It's closed! There's not even a shrine to me.
With a gift shop, selling piñatas of me! End of the line, man.
Come on, we can still catch a twi-night double cockfight.
No, wait! What's that in the Mexican garbage? - Looks like a half-eaten cheese diaper.
- No, next to that.
A half-eaten employee directory.
Inspector 5's home address! His ass-ias is gracias! Where are you hiding, you coward? Get out here and get murdered like a man! Bender, I'm afraid our search is at an end.
He's obviously long gone.
Oh, yeah? Well, maybe this is him in a costume! I'm gonna squeeze you out of there like Tijuana toothpaste! Okay, Bender, you're mortal.
And, okay, Inspector 5 screwed up.
But that just makes the time you have left all the more precious.
Do you really want to waste the rest of your life in a bitter, homicidal rage? No! Yes! I don't know! Why? Why did he do this to me? All I wanted was a little quality control.
But he didn't care enough.
And now I'm gonna die! I deserve better! I'm Bender, damn it! I'm Bender! There, there, man.
It's gonna be okay.
You are Bender, which is something Inspector 5 will never be.
You know what? You're right.
He was just a stupid bureaucrat.
A stupid, paper-pushing bureaucrat.
A stupid l-dotting, chair-squashing Oh.
No offense, Hermes.
You're not like that.
I mean, you're exactly like that, but you're okay! In fact, I'm putting you on the do-not-kill list.
Come on, fellow mortal.
We're in Tijuana.
I want to live a little.
Help! I'm gonna die! That's the opposite of what I want! Quick, run out the back! I'll hack into Inspector 5's terminal and fake your death, so they'll call off the kill-bots.
You know that terminal is unhackable! I'm not leaving you, and that's final! Good luck, buddy.
Bender terminated.
Bender saved.
Cease fire.
Mom called off the attack.
- Although I don't see how it's her.
- Someone said, "Howitzer!" Yeah! All right! Yeah! He did it! And he's not looking back at that cool explosion.
He's a hero! What's happening? The phone's been disconnected, the ship's repossessed, and Zoidberg's getting overcooked! This place never changes.
Leela, what in the name of Jah happened? Too much papers! Not enough hiding plants! It's all right.
This place just needs a one-hour bureaucratizing.
You make it look so easy.
I've smoked a lot of paperwork in my day.
Hey, Bender, did you ever find that inspector guy you were looking for? Nah, but thanks to this knucklehead, I did find a new outlook on life.
It's precious and sacred.
And you only get so many millions of years on this Earth.
So, let's get brick-faced! Little bird, little bird Fly through my window Little bird, little bird Fly through my window Little bird, little bird Fly through my window Find molasses candy Through my window, my sugar lump Fly through my window, my sugar lump Find molasses candy Chickadee, chickadee Fly through my window Chickadee, chickadee Fly through my window Chickadee, chickadee Fly through my window Find molasses candy Through my window, my sugar lump Fly through my window, my sugar lump Find molasses candy