Futurama s07e21 Episode Script

Two two, three Good news, everyone! Well? What is it? What is what? Oh! Right! Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be delivering this mysterious crate to Peebles Alpha.
Peebles Alpha? The planet of gangs, thugs and hustlers? Ooh! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Hang on.
If we're delivering a package to criminals, I want to know what's in it.
I have no idea, Leela.
But I'll tell you the same thing they told me Stop asking questions, old man, and we'll slip you an extra five grand that your crew doesn't need to know about.
[Grunting with effort.]
Now, listen carefully.
This planet is controlled by two rival gangs the Blips and the Cruds.
You can tell them apart by their colors red and blue.
Which gang's red, and which gang's blue? Both! The delivery is going to the Blips, so when you meet them, you'll want to be wearing these jerseys.
Not these jerseys.
Because if you're wearing these, you'll be killed on the spot.
Okay, here are your jerseys.
No, wait.
Here.
No.
Wait Does anyone else find this delivery suspicious? Nope.
He's too dumb, and I don't care.
Well, I'm smart, and I care too much.
I want to know what's in that crate.
But we're not allowed to open it! I know that! Go get me a crowbar.
Please, use mine.
I just need it in case, uh, Fry gets his head stuck in a pot of honey.
And in the meantime, if I should happen to bump into the crate and open it whoopsie! [Grunting.]
Bender: Hey, Leela, Fry got his head stuck in a pot of honey! Oh, bother.
Not now! [Grunting.]
[Grunting, clanking, clattering.]
[Gasping.]
What is it? Alcohol? Tobacco? Firearms? Firearms! That's the one I was secretly hoping for.
I'm okay with most kinds of violence, but not gang violence.
Before we deliver these weapons, we're going to disable them so they can never be used.
Bender, bend the barrels.
But I love guns! Then pretend they're little human necks.
What?! Let me at 'em! [Grunting.]
[Whirring.]
A lot of ships get stolen on this planet, so, Bender, stay here and stand guard.
Okay.
I hope I never see you again.
Uh, I don't like the looks of this gang-infested neighborhood.
There might be spiders! We must have made a wrong turn.
We should have reached Blip turf by now.
You think we walked straight out of Blipton? Wait, there's some Blips.
[Gasps, grunts.]
Those aren't Blips! They're Cruds! They have the red on the left.
Oh, no! What should we do? [Gasps.]
Leela, this is no time to show me your boobs! Turn your jersey inside out.
Oh.
Show me again.
[Muffled grunting.]
Yo, what you doing on our turf? Chill, dawg.
Ain't no thang.
We Cruds.
Well, we Blips, and we over here.
We put up that mirror because this is a blind intersection.
It's considerably reduced the number of accidents.
It don't do nothing for the murder rate, though.
Now get down on your knees so we can blow your Crud brains out! [Yelling.]
Um, Leela, remember when we were trying to guess what would happen if someone stuck a gun in my face, and you said I'd probably crap my pants? - Well - Excuse me, Sir? We're not actually Blips or Cruds.
We're delivery people, here to deliver this crate.
So if everything seems to be in order, we'll be on our way, a'ight? Oh, it's far from a'ight.
Man: Now, hold up! It's a'ight, all right? It's a Crud, and he's got a gun! Yo, you just shot your own reflection in the mirror.
It was self-defense.
We are the Cruds, but we're over here.
And don't shoot.
That crate is a gift from us.
- What?! - Huh? For real? There's been enough violence on these streets.
Too many lives and mirrors have been shattered.
So, yo, we sent you a crate of weapons as a sign of trust.
Together, we can use them to rid our streets of the real enemy.
- Giant spiders.
- I knew it! Man, that's a nice gesture.
We accept your offer of peace.
Let's just have a look at these top-quality weapons.
I'll test it out on that innocent bystander.
Ow! Yo, you just shot yourself again! It's a trick! Get 'em! [Clamoring.]
Ow.
Oh.
[Screaming.]
[Gunfire, groaning and yelling.]
[Gunfire, groans and yelling stop.]
Look, let's just agree that gang violence is an important issue with no easy answers.
Okay.
Anyway, the ship's still here.
- And nothing was stolen.
- Bender: Yeah it was! I got bot-jacked! [Both gasp.]
All I have left is my cigar.
Wait [stammers, groans.]
They stole everything except my mouth and eyes.
I guess they didn't like all my screaming and winking.
It's just lucky Bender had a RoJack installed.
When I activate it, the police should be able to locate him.
[Switch clicks, computer beeps.]
Female voice [Echoing.]
: Locating locating Male voice: Located.
[Siren blares.]
It's a robot chop shop.
That's some primordial evil.
This Skell here buys stolen robots, strips 'em down, and sells the parts all over the galaxy.
[Scanner beeping.]
Okay, I'm getting a signal from Bender's RoJack.
[Beeping.]
Naw, it's just a piece of junk.
That's not junk! That's Bender's head! My head?! Slap me upside it! Ah, home, sweet head.
That's it? Where's the rest of him? All other parts sold.
But I have list of buyers.
You drop charges, I give you list.
No dice.
Justice don't work that way.
Wait.
Wait.
What if I throw in giant robot head for nice officer? Hmm Thanks for all your help, officer! My pleasure.
[Whirring.]
Boy, Bender, you sure were chock full of parts.
I didn't even know you had a wishbone.
I had a lot of magic things.
And we'll never get them all back.
Oh, sure we will.
If we live a really long time.
Let's get started.
[Door creaks open, chimes tinkling.]
Come in, come in.
Close the door.
You're letting the smut out.
Bender: All right, buddy.
We know for a fact that you received a stolen item.
A certain sensitive part of my Anatomy.
What, you mean your antenna? Shh! Watch your language.
This ain't a church, lady.
Except for tax purposes.
Anyway, I can't help you.
One of my customers already bought your friend's antenna.
Oh, excuse me Robo-Dong.
Who was it? Can you give us a name? Certainly not.
I could never betray a customer's privacy.
All I can give you is this naked picture of him taken from my toilet cam.
I'll get right to the point, Senator.
You purchased our friend's [Clears her throat.]
[Whispering.]
: Antenna.
We'd like it back.
You may have it.
I'm through with it.
It has done everything and everyone imaginable.
You may want to get it disinfected.
Can do.
[Belches.]
[Laughs.]
[Techno music throbbing.]
[Door creaks open.]
Sorry, guys, I'm gonna have to confiscate your keg.
It's my body.
Oh, come on, Bender! Can you at least wait till it's empty? Fair enough.
Fry, beer me.
[Gulping.]
[Sighs.]
It's empty! [Clicking.]
I'm 40% back, baby! [Jaunty music playing on piano.]
Sorry, but these robot arms have brought me nothing but luck With the cards [Whirring.]
And with the ladies.
[Gasps.]
Sir! But those are my arms! That's Gropey, and that's Cheaty.
Cheaty?! Now, gentlemen, I'm sure we can Oh! Well, then, I'll just collect my winnings and be on my Oh! Much obliged.
All right, Tinny, your double leg transplant is complete.
What do you say you give 'em a try? It's a miracle! I can walk! [Clinking.]
No more crutch or withered leg! Someone's sure to adopt me now! Well, Bender, I guess you won't be getting your legs back.
But your sacrifice will let an innocent child live a full and happy life.
[Saw buzzing.]
[Rattling, clanking.]
I'm sorry.
You were saying something? Oh, crumb.
I guess it's back to the cart for me.
[Grunts with effort.]
Ooh, nice cart.
Hey, this thing's pretty smooth.
Eh, but I still prefer walking.
Well, we did it we got all Bender's parts back.
Wrong as always, Fry! I'm still missing the shiniest metal piece of all.
Your thyroid? No! I'm talking about my ass! Huh.
I never even knew you had an ass.
[Sputtering, stammering.]
Hmm.
According to this, it shipped out on a freighter from South Street Spaceport.
Oh, yes, I remember that ass.
Let's see Oh, God, no! It was on board the Floatwell! [Gasps.]
The ship that sank in that horrible space storm? Yes.
I'm afraid your friend's derriere is lost forever in the depths of the Sargaseous Sea.
My ass! Sweet love of my life! Several hundred people died, too, including my wife.
My ass! I'm sorry, buddy.
Maybe we can get you a new one.
Never! My ass is my soul mate.
It even has its own hind-brain.
Really? Your butt can think? No.
But it can feel.
And right now, it's hind-heartbroken! Just like me! [Sobbing.]
Wow, Bender, this is really important to you, isn't it? [Crying.]
: Uh-huh.
Okay, we're gonna find that shipwreck and get you your backside back.
[Stops crying.]
Okay, let's go.
[Engine whooshing.]
The ship carrying Bender's heinie sank in the treacherous gases of the Sargaseous Sea.
Once we locate the wreck [screams.]
Asteroids! Curse this interstellar fog.
Why isn't there a lighthouse to guide us away from the rocks? I don't know, but look out for that lighthouse! [All screaming.]
[Thunder crashing.]
[Lighthouse keeper panting.]
[All groaning.]
So you're alive, are ye? [Groans.]
I suppose you'll be wanting to keep your tooth fillin's.
Are ye hurt? No, but we could use a hug.
Better come inside then.
Name's Tarquin.
Been alone here, tending this light, longer'n I can remember.
[Bell dings.]
That'll be my Cup-a-Soup.
It's been microwavin' longer'n I can remember.
This is a dangerous coast.
We didn't see your light until it was too late.
No beam can pierce that devilish mist.
Shipwrecks be so common, I make a good living out of whatever washes ashore.
Found me a whole Blue Man Group once.
So you have two jobs? More.
I also salvage the wrecks with my bathysphere, and I'm a butcher, if you like blue meat.
Sounds good, but about that bathysphere We want to salvage a cargo ship that sank carrying this robot's rear end.
Aye, I'll help ye for a cut of the booty.
Now, when you say a cut of the booty I mean a percentage of the value of the recovered goods.
Now be getting some rest.
The booty call is at daybreak.
[Tarquin panting.]
[Grunting.]
[Hissing.]
[Screaming.]
Tarquin [Over radio.]
: Those sound like one-eyed corpse screams.
Oh, I wish I was down there with ye.
Let's not forget that this shipwreck is also the final resting place of this brave Captain.
Place your bets.
Whee! [Gasps.]
That's it.
I'm sure! I can tell by the words on the crate! Oh, my beloved.
You complete me.
[Thunder crashing.]
Hurry on inside now.
Storm's a-brewin'.
I can feel it in my weather channel app.
[Phone buzzing.]
[Thunder continues.]
Soon the sea will be belchin' her dead upon the shore.
If ye like your shoes unmatched and with feet still in 'em, this is your night.
[Whirring.]
Can't you make the beacon any brighter? Nay, 'tis already the brightest object in the known Universe, and even so, it can't be seen three feet away in a storm like this.
I thought we were near the rocks, but I don't see the lighthouse, so everything is fine and we can relax.
All hands on deck for Mojitos.
The important thing is I got my final piece back.
Hey, Fry, take a picture of me biting my own shiny metal ass.
I'd be honored.
Ah.
You muddled the mint well, Alejandro.
The lighthouse! Dead ahead! Aye! Well, I'm sure Bender's fanny is tired.
As soon as this storm passes, let's be on our way.
[Staticky.]
: Sargaseous lighthouse, this is the S.
S.
Miami Muy Caliente.
Thank you for your glorious beacon.
It saved our lives and our Saturday night.
Adios.
[Caribbean music playing.]
Your aft-plate.
Its fiery gleam saved a ship full of South Beach swabbies.
Well, I do polish it every day, and I sleep in a chamois diaper.
It's a hundred times more reflective than the mirror in my beacon.
Might I keep it for the lighthouse? What?! No! But, Bender, your buttocks could save lives.
I hate lives! These are sailors' lives, Bender.
Think of the untold cursing that would be lost to future generations.
Could you live with that? [Crying.]
: You know the answer, you scurvy bastard! Maybe I have been selfish, hiding my ass under a bushel.
Perhaps, like all great men, my ass has a destiny, and if it does, I can't stand in its way.
[Whirring slows to a stop.]
[Thunder crashing.]
[Whirring.]
Bender, come join us.
We're watching Rear Window.
I used to stick my rear out the window.
If you prefer, we could watch Behind the Music.
My behind used to make music.
Backdraft is on.
Even my ass wouldn't watch that.
Bender, I'm proud of you for the sacrifice you made.
Try and find solace in the fact that somewhere out there, your keister is doing good.
Well, my shiny friend, yer days of carousin' are over.
But yer nights of endless, monotonous rotating have just begun.
Now what say I read you a nice passage from the scripture to help you forget yer old master? In the sanctuary, he made two cherubim of olive-wood.
Each ten cubits high.
[Echoing.]
: And one wing measured five cubits, and the other wing measured five cubits; From the tip [Gasps.]
Oh, no! Our son Johnny fell down the gravity well! Thank you, Assie.
[Knocking on door.]
[Door opens.]
Bender? It's for you.
[Gasps.]
Assie? Oh Assie! You came home.
You came home.