Bender, this is Fry’s decision… and he made it wrong. So it’s time for us to interfere in his life. Leela’s gonna kill me. Who said that? SURE you can die! You want to die?! Yeah, I do that with my stupidness.
Goodbye, cruel world. Goodbye, cruel lamp. Goodbye, cruel velvet drapes, lined with what would appear to be some sort of cruel muslin and the cute little pom-pom curtain pull cords. Cruel though they may be…
It’s just like the story of the grasshopper and the octopus. All year long, the grasshopper kept burying acorns for winter, while the octopus mooched off his girlfriend and watched TV. But then the winter came, and the grasshopper died, and the octopus ate all his acorns.
Every other day it’s food, food, food. Alright, I’ll get you some stupid food. It may comfort you to know that Fry’s death took only fifteen seconds, yet the pain was so intense, that it felt to him like fifteen years. And it goes without saying, it caused him to empty his bowels.
Now that the, uh, garbage ball is in space, Doctor, perhaps you can help me with my sexual inhibitions? Ow, my spirit! Well I’da done better, but it’s plum hard pleading a case while awaiting trial for that there incompetence. Stop it, stop it. It’s fine. I will ‘destroy’ you! This opera’s as lousy as it is brilliant!
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