Leela, are you alright? You got wanged on the head. Large bet on myself in round one. You know the worst thing about being a slave? They make you work, but they don’t pay you or let you go.

She also liked to shut up! A true inspiration for the children. But existing is basically all I do!

Oh dear! She’s stuck in an infinite loop, and he’s an idiot! Well, that’s love for you. Actually, that’s still true. You seem malnourished. Are you suffering from intestinal parasites?

I’m sure those windmills will keep them cool.

No, she’ll probably make me do it. I’ve got to find a way to escape the horrible ravages of youth. Suddenly, I’m going to the bathroom like clockwork, every three hours. And those jerks at Social Security stopped sending me checks. Now ‘I” have to pay ”them’! Fry! Quit doing the right thing, you jerk! In our darkest hour, we can stand erect, with proud upthrust bosoms. I guess if you want children beaten, you have to do it yourself.

Morbo will now introduce tonight’s candidates… PUNY HUMAN NUMBER ONE, PUNY HUMAN NUMBER TWO, and Morbo’s good friend, Richard Nixon. You, minion. Lift my arm. AFTER HIM! Oh Leela! You’re the only person I could turn to; you’re the only person who ever loved me. What kind of a father would I be if I said no?

Ow, my spirit! Really?! Well, then good news! It’s a suppository. Ugh, it’s filthy! Why not create a National Endowment for Strip Clubs while we’re at it? I am Singing Wind, Chief of the Martians. Who are you, my warranty?! Also Zoidberg. You don’t know how to do any of those. Oh God, what have I done? Ah, computer dating. It’s like pimping, but you rarely have to use the phrase “upside your head.” I am Singing Wind, Chief of the Martians. Yes. You gave me a dollar and some candy. Can I use the gun? Moving along… That’s a popular name today. Little “e”, big “B”?

Your best is an idiot! I meant ‘physically’. Look, perhaps you could let me work for a little food? I could clean the floors or paint a fence, or service you sexually? Tell her you just want to talk. It has nothing to do with mating. Pansy. I was all of history’s great robot actors – Acting Unit 0.8; Thespomat; David Duchovny! We need rest. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is spongy and bruised.

Bender, hurry! This fuel’s expensive!

Doomsday device? Ah, now the ball’s in Farnsworth’s court! Then throw her in the laundry room, which will hereafter be referred to as “the brig”. Ah, yes! John Quincy Adding Machine. He struck a chord with the voters when he pledged not to go on a killing spree. Daddy Bender, we’re hungry. Bender, I didn’t know you liked cooking. That’s so cute. Anyhoo, your net-suits will allow you to experience Fry’s worm infested bowels as if you were actually wriggling through them.

But, like most politicians, he promised more than he could deliver. You know, I was God once. Perhaps, but perhaps your civilization is merely the sewer of an even greater society above you! How much did you make me? Also, we’re dying! File not found. For one beautiful night I knew what it was like to be a grandmother. Subjugated, yet honored. What are their names?

That’s a popular name today. Little “e”, big “B”? Ok, we’ll go deliver this crate like professionals, and then we’ll go ride the bumper cars. This is the worst part. The calm before the battle. 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. Also he got a race car. Is any of this getting through to you? No, of course not. It was… uh… porno. Yeah, that’s it. My fellow Earthicans, as I have explained in my book ‘Earth in the Balance”, and the much more popular ”Harry Potter and the Balance of Earth’, we need to defend our planet against pollution. Also dark wizards.

Spare me your space age technobabble, Attila the Hun! For example, if you killed your grandfather, you’d cease to exist! No! The cat shelter’s on to me. Daddy Bender, we’re hungry. Is the Space Pope reptilian!? Ah, computer dating. It’s like pimping, but you rarely have to use the phrase “upside your head.”

All I want is to be a monkey of moderate intelligence who wears a suit… that’s why I’m transferring to business school! When I was first asked to make a film about my nephew, Hubert Farnsworth, I thought “Why should I?” Then later, Leela made the film. But if I did make it, you can bet there would have been more topless women on motorcycles. Roll film! You mean while I’m sleeping in it? No. We’re on the top. Yeah, lots of people did. Hello Morbo, how’s the family?