Futurama s02e18 Episode Script

Futurama is brought to you|by Molten Boron.
Nobody doesn't like Molten Boron! The Problem with Popplers I hate the Moochers.
|They offer you a drink but their wallet's always|in the other pants which they borrowed from me! Dinner ready? The Moochers cleaned out our pantry.
All they left was baking soda|and capers.
And here it is! Great.
We're two days from Earth|with no food.
Fight to the death.
I'll cook the|loser.
Work his gut.
I like it tender.
Maybe that planet has a drive-thru!|Burger Jerk, Fishy Joe's or Chiseler.
No, we're a billion miles|from nowhere.
It probably only has|a Howard Johnson's.
A type-M planet, so it should at least|have Rodden berries.
I'm good at foraging.
|I found mushrooms on my bathmat.
I found some rocks!|You eat rocks, right? Not even sautéed in a little mud? Look! A ditch full of fried shrimp! Are you blind? Looks more|like a hole full of fried prawns.
This thing on my wrist says|they're not poisonous.
Well, how are they? They're great! They're like sex!|Except I'm having them! These would go great with rocks! Look! Here's more! - The planet's full of them!|- I'll take a few.
- No! A whole Bender-ful!|- Only what we need.
Stuff the ship! Planet Express ship,|you are cleared to land.
Roger! Oh, man! I'm inhaling these things! You guys scored some primo stuff here! They're tastier than a penguin nest.
|What do you call them? - No name yet.
|- They're tasty.
What about Tasty-cles? - Not that.
|- Why not? It sounds like frozen|mountain oysters on a stick.
You know, Test-cicles.
The only names not yet trademarked|are Popplers and Zittzers.
- We'll call them "Popplers"!|- Yeah.
Why not? - You picked it.
|- Swish! Call them what you want.
|I call them a free meal.
Slow down there, Sigmund! I can't stand poor people|getting free food.
We gotta sell these things! - Good idea!|- Bender's a genius! - Business is great.
|- Great's okay.
Amazing would be great! Don't push!|There's hot dogs for everyone! Where do you want those rat droppings|you ordered? You're not the guy who delivers|the rat droppings! Popplers? Never heard of them! Eat it or beat it! These are great! Boys, this is your lucky day!|I'm Joe Gillman.
- You're a guy who eats at Fishy Joe's?|- Hell, no! I am Fishy Joe! I've got a fast-food franchise|on every planet.
Except McPluto.
I wanted to write you about|the in-store kiddie parks.
- The slides won't support a robot.
|- Not interested.
But these are great! - How much?|- $1 a dozen.
You'll never make money.
|Supply them to me and I'll sell them for $2 a dozen.
|I'll even pay you $1 a dozen.
I'll be rich! You too,|but that doesn't excite me.
How do we sign? Pop a Poppler at Fishy Joe's It's a mystery|Where they're from no one knoWs Pick them, lick them, cheW them,|Stick them, if you Won't sue Shove one up your nose I can't pay.
That's the second billboard this week! Sorry.
I was distracted|by those protesters outside.
Unless this is a nude love-in,|get the hell off my property! You can't own property, man! I can, because I'm not|a penniless hippie! What do you want? We're with Mankind|for Ethical Animal Treatment! Popplers are living creatures.
|Stop harvesting them for food! - Or what?|- Or we'll boycott Fishy Joe's! You're vegetarians.
Who cares? Shut up! Animals eat animals.
It's nature.
No, it isn't.
|We taught a lion to eat tofu.
The point is, you shouldn't eat things|that feel pain - Okay, we won't eat you!|- I'll go get some more bricks.
I wish you'd throw out|these old Popplers.
They're getting big and scaly.
|There's one left.
Mama! Stop! Stop eating Popplers! - Why?|- My booze! Popplers are intelligent!|This one called me mama! Congratulations!|I assume Amy is the father? Popplers can't talk.
She's hallucinating from lack|of Popplers.
Eat some now! - No!|- I said eat! Come on, mangia! - Sorry, babies.
|- Maybe you should lie down.
Yes, listen to the father.
I'm telling you it spoke to me.
|Come on, little Poppler.
Say mama? Hearing one talk|doesn't mean it's intelligent.
- Parrots talk and we eat them, right?|- Maybe it learned as a parlor trick.
- Like Fry.
|- Like Fry! Like Fry! There's one way, and only one way, to|determine if an animal is intelligent.
Dissect its brain.
No! Mama! Stop Grandpa! Enough chitchat!|Restrain the specimen! - Good.
|- Give me some of that special sauce.
Stop eating Popplers! They can talk! Don't stop to talk! Eat Popplers! - Cut it out!|- Take a coupon! Cut it out! I won't let you enter! Popplers|are as intelligent as you or me! You, maybe.
Hear me, hear me! Stop eating Popplers! Stop eating them with honey mustard|sauce, tangy sweet and sour sauce! Stop eating the fiesta Popplers salad! Stop taking advantage|of the cheaper 12-pack! Stop enjoying Popplers on the patio,|in the car or on the boat.
Wherever good times are had Tonight on Date Night.
Popplers.
Eating them.
|Is it all right? With us, the CEO of Fishy Joe's,|Mr.
"Fishy" Joseph Gillman.
Noted anti-eating activist,|Free Waterfall, Junior.
And the Popplers discoverer,|Captain Taronga Leela.
- Taronga?|- That's her name, Philip.
Is it Wrong to eat|intelligent animals? Absolutely not.
|No one's here to make that claim.
- I am.
|- Me too.
We're talking about a snack|loW in fat and high in profit.
You're crazy, man.
He is crazy.
- There isn't evidence of intelligence.
|- Shut up, shut up.
- Not true.
This one talks.
Say mama.
|- Ca-ca.
We'll bleep that.
I'm not saying eating meat|is Wrong.
- No one's here to make that claim.
|- I am! - Eating smart animals is different.
|- Shut up, shut up.
Don't force your tired philosophy|on us.
The reason We don't eat people|is the lousy taste.
You're nuts.
Shut up.
Let me talk.
- You shut up.
|- No, you shut up.
Popplers are no smarter than any other|animal I've served, cats included.
- Ca-ca head.
Mean, old ca-ca head.
|- Sir, I'm making a point.
If these gutter-mouths are so smart,|Why don't they defend themselves? - Stop it!|- I call murder on that! I'm Willing to grant it's murder.
|The real issue is Who's gonna stop me? We seem to be experiencing|technical difficulties.
And crap like I've never seen! People of Earth, I am Lure of the|planet Omicron Persei Eight.
Turn doWn the TV, Indunda.
Dear Lord, they're back! - We're doomed!|- Doomed! Doomed! The creatures you call Popplers come|from a nursery planet in our sector.
You monsters have been eating|our babies! We demand justice! As you ate our children,|so shall you be eaten by us! We'll begin With the firemen,|then the math teachers and so on in that fashion|until everyone is eaten.
Transmission over! Well, that Went okay.
When you knoW you can't scratch,|that's When you really have to.
Oh, yeah! That feels a lot better|What? It's still on? I speak for all of Earth when I mourn the loss|of the Omicronian young.
We share your pain.
If we could undo the damage It'd be great with quack-a-mole.
Stop eating our young!|And it's guacamole! All right.
I'm putting them away.
What is it you want? We demand to eat one human for each|Omicronian that was eaten! Fair enough.
How many is that? It's 198 billion, sir.
Very well.
You will provide us|with 198 billion humans.
- And small fries.
|- Lure! All right.
Cottage cheese.
Sir?|There aren't that many human beings.
A thought:|There aren't that many humans.
We'll wait while you|shore up the numbers.
Well, 198 billion babies|in a few weeks.
We'll need super-virile men|scoring 'round the clock.
I'll do my part.
|Kif? Clear my schedule.
Just wipe out humanity.
|Get it over with.
- It's the waiting I can't stand.
|- That's stupid.
Fellow earthlings,|we've reached an agreement.
Using the twin guns|of grace and tact I blasted our worthless enemies|with a fair compromise.
- They won't eat everyone.
|- I filled up on nuts negotiating.
Instead, they'll eat only|one human of their choice.
We'll eat the first earthling|who ate our offspring.
Here is the culprit, as photographed|by our nanny-cam satellite.
She must be sacrificed,|but the rest of you shall be spared! Boo! Boo! Tonight, the world watches|in horror as an earthling is eaten alive|on network TV.
This scene of unimaginable carnage|is brought to you by Fishy Joe's! Try our new Extreme Walrus Juice! One hundred percent fresh-squeezed|Walrus! Ride the Walrus! Ladies and gentlemen! The Omicronians! Greetings, Earth morsels! - You suck!|- Get a job! I'll miss you, Leela.
You're just a carbon-based|life form but I'll always think of you|as a big pile of titanium.
Bender means you're really brave,|smart, beautiful and a great friend.
Just like titanium.
What a load! I was the one trying|to save the Popplers! You ate them like the fat hog you are! And you were stepping on them|for fun! - You should be in here!|- Someone's acting awfully aluminum.
My sweet, I've come to save you.
|I have a devious plan.
Great.
Captain Moron has a plan.
Tell it to Wingus and Dingus.
Wingus? Dingus? We're going to give|the aliens the old switcheroo.
I found a giant, hideous ape|that looks exactly like Leela.
It doesn't look anything like me!|The hair's all wrong.
Don't worry.
Kif is an expert stylist|as you can plainly see.
This might actually work.
Omicronians|have trouble telling people apart.
True.
They thought Kif|was the statesman and I, a jabbering mental patient.
|Right, Kif? Please, I'm creating! Voila! - That's Leela!|- I'm seeing double! I grow hungry!|Bring on the one called Leela.
- That comes with salad or soup.
|- Salad.
- Ranch or vinaigrette?|- Vinaigrette.
Balsamic or raspberry? What's going on here? It's very strange.
People of Earth - I get it.
|- I understand.
Yes, this is the one.
Definitely.
I recognize her slumping posture|and hairy knuckles.
Would you like some human|with your salt? This is it.
If the aliens fall for|Zapp's ploy, the Earth will be saved.
Brought to you by Fishy Joe's.
|Ride the walrus.
Wait! Stop! It's a trick!|That's not Leela! What? I'm losing the crowd! It's an orangutan, one of Mother|Earth's most precious creatures.
Why'd you open your bong hole,|you smelly hippie? You'd sacrifice a beautiful woman|for an attractive monkey? You must have smoked some bad granola.
The one called Smelly Hippie is right!|This is a monkey! Yes.
Definitely.
Where is the real female? - I'll never tell.
|- Where is she? I'll get her for you.
This may hurt our chances of|consummating our relationship again.
- Go consummate yourself.
|- Stop talking! You're getting cold! Please! I just paid off my car! - No!|- I can't look! People of Earth, I am Jurr of the|planet Omicron Persei Eight.
Could you lower this thing for me? Now then, if Leela gets eaten,|I get eaten.
Little one, get out of there!|I'm going to count to Blorks! But elder one Hear me out! There are many|good reasons to eat! Hunger, boredom, wanting to be|the world's fattest man! But not revenge.
|Are we no better than they? Besides, Leela's my friend.
- She's your friend?|- Yeah, I am! Leela's garbled words have opened|my eyes! Okay, that's a start.
|It's very earth-friendly.
Now everyone join hands.
|Join hands, please.
I'd like to lead you all in some|swaying.
Pay attention.
I said do it! - Is he your friend too?|- No.
This is not happening.
I think there was something funny|in that hippie.
Thank you, Jurr.
I hope you'll always|think of me as your mom.
When my species grows up,|we eat our moms.
People of Earth|That hippie's starting to kick in.
We've all learned an important lesson|today.
I realize now that Dude, my hands are huge! They can touch anything|but themselves.
- Oh, wait|- Let's go.
Whoa, I feel like I'm flying.
A toast to Leela.
She showed us|it's wrong to eat certain things.
- Here!|- Let's get drunk! - Thanks, guys.
Pass the veal, please?|- Here you go.
Let me get some of that suckling pig.
Who wants dolphin? But dolphins are intelligent.
No, this one blew his money|on lottery tickets.
- Good.
|- Pass the blowhole.
- Fluke, please.
|- Quit hogging the bottle-nose! Toss me the speech center|of the brain!