Futurama: Bender's Big Score

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Planet Express

delivery company roll call!

- Captain Turanga Leela!

- Here!

Delivery boy, first class, Philip J. Fry!

Here!

Assistant Manager of Sales,

Bender Bending Rodriguez!

Here!

Cerveza, por favor.

Long-term intern, Amy Wong.

Here!

Company physician, Dr. John A. Zoidberg.

I thought it was mine.

Bureaucrat Grade 34, Hermes Conrad

is who I am.

And now I am proud to present

the owner and founder of Planet Express,

Professor Hubert J. Farnsworth!

You're all fired.

Sweet bongo of the Congo!

In fact, you were fired two years ago.

That's when we were shut down

by the delivery network.

Yes, I'm afraid the brainless

drones who run the network

canceled our License.

We were canceled?

Oh, it's terrible. Just terrible.

Well, clear out your desks

and move along. Chop-chop.

Yes? I see.

Good news, everyone!

Those asinine morons who canceled us

were themselves fired for incompetence.

And not just fired, but beaten up, too.

And pretty badly.

In fact, most of them died

from their injuries.

And then they were ground up

into a fine pink powder.

- Why?

- Oh, it's got a million and one uses.

That soothes the fire.

So what does this mean

for us and our many fans?

It means we're back on the air!

Yes, flying on the air

in our mighty spaceship.

We're back, baby!

Party!

Go, go, go!

Lower, lawn mower!

What's the matter, robot?

You got a rod up your spine?

Yes, I do. That's how I'm built.

Hooray.

- Way to bend it!

You're the greatest, Bender!

In Jamaica, we got

10-story office buildings lower than that.

Let's see you beat it, Rasta man.

Let's make it interesting.

Fetch down one of them sabers.

Oh, flexible.

That would go good up my spine.

Lower.

The fat guy wins!

Go, Hermes!

That's why they call me 11-inch Conrad.

Oh, no.

Can you save Hermes, Dr. Goodensexy?

I told you, my name is Dr. Cahill.

Figures I'd get mangled

while the blond bimbo's on duty.

I'm a doctor, sir.

The mere fact that I'm blond

and have a breathy voice,

full sensual lips and a steaming hot body

doesn't make me a bimbo.

Tell me about it.

I think we've all learned a thing or two

about sexual stereotypes

while my head's slowly dying

'cause I'm not in a jar yet, you bimbo!

Oh, right. Ditzy-witzy!

Lars, got another jar job!

Oh, sorry, Doctor.

I was disinfecting Courtney Love...

Oh, hello.

What are you looking at? Is it the eye?

Guilty as charged.

It's a nice looking eye,

and there's plenty of it.

- Oh. Do I know you?

- Apparently not.

- Hi. I'm Lars.

- Oh. I'm Leela.

- Nice to meet you.

- Nice to be met.

Pick up ladies on your own time,

you shiny-headed goat.

Sir, you're just a little enraged

'cause you're dying. Up and away!

Lars is so flirting with you.

He is so not. He's just being polite.

Who does he think he is,

being polite to you?

- You want me to beat him up?

- No. Stop being so immature.

I'll show her who's immature.

''Charles de Gaulle''? Never heard of you.

I freed France from the Nazis and...

Hey, Leela. I'm some French guy.

Rock that Frenchman, baby!

Oh, my poor little love pirate

of the Caribbean.

There, there, wife. Everything will be all...

Okay, look, Hermes,

we got to think of the boy.

- He needs a daddy.

- He has a daddy.

No, he got two half-daddies.

- Will his body be all right?

- Yes, but it may take a few days.

No, not soon enough.

Come, Dwight,

let's find you a handsome new father.

LaBarbara, no!

It's okay, Hermes. We're all here for you.

Good news, everyone!

We've got a delivery

to the nude beach planet.

So long, jerk.

It feels great to be back at the wheel

after two long years.

That's not the wheel.

It's nice out.

''You must be at least this naked''?

How much nakeder could you be?

Watch and learn.

- You know, it's funny.

- What?

Your wiener!

Well, I'm going in the water

to prune up a bit before I strut.

- Who's with me?

- I'm in!

- I'm in.

- Yeah, I'll go.

You guys go ahead.

I gotta find the bartender

and deliver this box of barstool softener.

Here's your package, sir.

- Why are you talking to my penis?

- Oh, sorry. Sign here.

- Mind if I use your pen?

- Well, that's not a...

And initial here.

Thank you for using Planet Express.

Hey, Fry, I didn't know

you had a tattoo of Bender on your ass.

Me, neither.

You got a tattoo of me?

Neat. It's like looking in a smelly mirror.

So he's got a little ink. Big whoop.

Sweet photons.

I don't know if you're waves or particles,

but you go down smooth.

Sir, would you care to sign our petition?

I support and oppose many things,

but not strongly enough to pick up a pen.

That's just what the guys

who oppose the things

you support want you to do.

Really? Down with those guys!

And we'll need your e-mail address.

They say you shouldn't give out

your e-mail address.

Right. That's just

what those same guys say.

Them again?

I don't quite understand

what this petition's about.

Animals?

And your e-mail address.

- You won't send me any spam, will you?

- Oh, no, no, no, no.

Asterisk.

You've got spam.

Spam, spam, junk.

The very last pygmy rhino

is going extinct?

Unless it gets my credit card number?

Spam. Spam.

''Hi. How are you?''

Oh, that must be from Kiffy.

Hi, how are you?

Low, low prices

on erectile dysfunction remedies,

sleeping pills, old-person drugs,

and antidepressants.

Antidepressants?

Well, I certainly don't want

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