Futurama is brought to you by...Molten Boron.
Nobody doesn't like Molten Boron
I hate the Planet of the Moochers.
They take you out for a drink, but when the check comes
their wallet's always in their other pants
which they borrowed from me.
Dinner ready?
Those lousy 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.
Problem solved. You two fight to the death and I'll cook the loser.
Work his gut. I like it tender.
Maybe that planet over there has a drive-thru.
A Burger Jerk or a Fishy Joe's or a Chiseler or something.
Don't get your hopes up. We're a billion miles from nowhere.
Yeah, it's probably only got a Howard Johnson's.
Well, it's a type "M" planet, so it should at least have roddenberries.
I'm experienced at foraging.
I used to find edible mushrooms on my bath mat.
I found some rocks.
- You guys eat rocks, right? - No.
Not even if they're sautéed in a little mud?
Here's something. It looks like a ditch full of fried shrimp.
What are you? Blind?
It looks more like a hole full of fried prawns.
This thing I wear on my wrist says they're not poisonous.
Well, how are they?
They're great.
They're like sex, except I'm having them.
You know what these would go great with? Rocks.
Look, here's more.
The planet's covered with them.
Let's bring back a couple of pocketfuls.
No, a whole Bender-ful.
No, only what we need.
Stuff the ship.
Planet Express ship, you are cleared to land.
Roger.
Oh, mon, I'm inhaling these things.
You guys scored some primo stuff here.
They're tastier than an unguarded penguin nest.
What do you call them?
We haven't thought of a name yet.
They're tasty, right?
Let's call them tasticles.
- We can't call them that. - Why not?
It sounds too much
Like those frozen Rocky Mountain oysters on a stick.
You know, testsicles.
According to government records the only names not yet trademarked
are Popplers and Zitsels.
I know! We'll call them popplers.
You sure picked it.
Swish.
Call them what you want. I call them a free meal.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Slow down there, Sigmund.
I can't stand idly by while poor people get free food.
We gotta sell these things.
- Yeah! - Good idea.
Bender's a genius!
Hey! Business is great.
Great is okay, but amazing would be great.
Please, don't push. There's hot dogs for everyone.
Hey, mac, where do you want those rat droppings you ordered?
Wait a minute.
You're not the guy who delivers the rat droppings.
What are you selling? Popplers? Never heard of 'em.
Eat it or beat it.
Mmm, mmm.
These are great.
Boys, this is your lucky day.
I'm Joe Gillman.
Wow.
You're some guy who eats at Fishy Joe's?
Hell, no.
I am Fishy Joe.
I've got a fast-food franchise on every planet in the known universe
Except McPluto.
Hey, Fishy, I've been meaning to write you about your in-store kiddie parks.
The slides won't support an adult robot.
Good point. Not interested.
But these popplers, these are great.
How much you sell them for?
A dollar a dozen.
You'll never make money that way.
You supply them to me and I'll sell them for two bucks a dozen
at my restaurants.
I'll even pay you a dollar a dozen.
Yes! I'm going to be rich!
You, too, but it's hard to get excited about that.
How do we sign?
Pop a poppler in your mouth
When you come to Fishy Joe's What they're made of is a mystery
Where they come from, no one knows You can pick 'em, you can lick 'em
You can chew 'em, you can stick 'em If you promise not to sue us
You can shove one up your nose.
I can't pay.
Leela, that's the second billboard you crashed into this week.
Sorry. I was distracted by those protesters outside our building.
Hey, unless this is a nude love-in
get the hell off my property.
You can't own property, man.
I can, but that's because I'm not a penniless hippie.
What do you people want?
We're with Mankind for Ethical Animal Treatment.
Popplers are living creatures.
You've got to stop harvesting them for food.
Or what?
Or we'll boycott Fishy Joe's.
You're vegetarians. Who cares what you do?
Shut up!
Animals eat other 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.
Fry, I wish you'd throw out these week-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.
Leela must be hallucinating
from not eating enough popplers.
Here, eat some now.
No!
- I said eat! Come on! Mangia! - No!
Sorry, babies.
Leela, maybe you should lie down.
Yes, listen to the father.
I'm telling you it spoke to me.
Come on, little poppler.
Say "mama."
Look, Leela, even if you heard one talk that doesn't mean it's intelligent.
I mean, parrots talk, and we eat them, right?
Yeah, maybe it just learned to talk 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.
...Some of that special sauce.
Stop eating popplers! They can talk!
Don't stop to talk. Eat popplers!
Hey, cut it out.
Take a coupon. Cut it out.
Ow! Ooh! Ow!
People, 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!
Stop eating them with tangy sweet-and-sour sauce.
Stop eating the new fiesta poppler salad.
Stop taking advantage of the money-saving 12-pack.
Stop enjoying popplers on the patio, in the car, or on the boat.
Wherever good times are had.
Ow!
Tonight, on Date Night:
"Popplers; eating them."
Is it all right to?
We have with us the C.E.O. Of Fishy Joe's
Mr. Fishy Joseph Gillman,
noted anti-eating activist, Free Waterfall, Jr.,
and the discoverer of popplers, Captain Turanga Leela.
Turanga?
That's her name, Phillip.
Phillip?
Fishy Joe, is it wrong to eat intelligent animals?
Absolutely not, Linda.
I don't think anyone's here to make that claim.
- I am. - Me, too.
- Listen... - Shut up.
We're talking about a snack that's low in fat...
- Shut up. - ...and high in profit.
You're crazy, man. He is crazy.
There's not even any strong evidence that these popplers are intelligent.
- Shut up, shut up. - That's not true.
- I have one right here that can talk. - Shut up.
- Come on. Say "mama." - Caca.
Okay, we'll have to bleep that.
- I'm not saying eating meat is wrong. - Shut up.
- No one's here to make that claim. - I am.
But eating an intelligent animal is different.
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
Don't force your tired philosophy on us.
I mean, the only reason we don't eat people
is because it tastes lousy.
You're all nuts.
Shut up. Let me talk.
You shut up, please.
No, you shut up, please.
Popplers are no smarter than any other animal I've served,
and that includes cats.
Caca-head.
Mean old caca-head.
Sir, I'm making a point.
If these gutter-mouth creatures are so smart,
why don't they defend themselves?
Stop it.
I call murder on that.
Look, I'm willing to grant that it's murder. The real issue is...
...who's going to stop me?
We seem to be experiencing technical difficulties.
And crap like I've never seen.
People of earth, I am Lrrr
of the Planet Omicron Persei 8.
Turn down the TV, Ndunda.
Dear lord, they're back.
We're doomed.
Doomed!
)
Doomed!
Now then, 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 will begin with the firemen, then the math teachers,
and so on in that fashion until everyone is eaten.
Transmission over.
Well, that went okay.
I tell you... when you know you can't scratch
that's when you really have to, eh?
Oh, yeah, oh, that feels a lot better.
What? It's still on? Oh!
As chief negotiator, I speak for all of Earth
when I mourn the regrettable loss of the omicronian young.
We share your pain.
Mmm.
If we could undo the damage...
These would be great with gwack-a-mole.
Stop eating our young!
And it's pronounced guacamole!
All right. I'm putting them away.
Now, what is it you want?
We demand...
We demand to eat
one human for each omicronian that was eaten.
Fair enough. How many is that?
Hundred and ninety-eight billion, Sir.
Very well.
You will provide us with 198 billion humans
And small fries.
Lrrr!
Oh, all right, cottage cheese.
Sir, there aren't that many human beings.
A thought occurs.
There aren't that many humans.
We'll wait a few weeks while you shore up the numbers.
One hundred ninety-eight billion babies in a few weeks.
We'll need an army of super-virile men scoring 'round the clock!
I'll do my part.
Kif, clear my schedule.
I wish they'd just wipe out humanity and get it over with.
It's the waiting I can't stand.
That's stupid.
My fellow earthlings, we have reached an agreement.
Using the twin guns of grace and tact
I blasted our worthless enemies with a fair compromise.
They will not eat everyone on Earth.
I filled up on nuts at the negotiation.
Instead, they will eat only a single human of their choice.
We choose to 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!
Tonight the world watches in horror as an earthling is eaten alive
on network television.
This grim scene of unimaginable carnage is brought to you by Fishy Joe's.
Try our new extreme walrus juice.
100% fresh-squeezed walrus.
Ride the walrus.
Ladies and gentlemen
The omicronians!
Greetings, earth morsels.
You suck!
Get a job!
I'll miss you, Leela.
I know you're just a carbon-based life-form
but I'll always think of you
as a big pile of titanium.
What Bender means is, you're really brave,
and smart, and beautiful, and a great friend.
Just like titanium.
This is all a big load.
I was the one trying to save the popplers.
You were sucking them down like the fat hog you are,
and you were stepping on them for fun.
You both should be in here instead of me.
Someone's acting awfully aluminum.
Leela, my sweet, I've come to save you.
I have a devious plan.
Oh, great. Captain Moron has a plan.
Why don't you tell it to wingus and dingus here?
Wingus, dingus, listen up.
We're going to give the aliens the old switcheroo.
- You mean... - Correct.
I found a giant, hideous ape
that looks exactly like Leela.
It doesn't look anything like me.
The hair is all wrong.
Don't worry, Kif is an expert stylist,
as you can plainly see.
Mmm!
You know, this might actually work.
The omicronians seem to have trouble telling one person from another.
True. At the negotiations, they thought Kif here
was the statesman and I was a jabbering mental patient.
Isn't that right, Kif?
Please, I'm creating.
Voilà!
- Bingo! - That' 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?
People of earth...
Shh!
Hmm.
Hmm. Mmm-hmm.
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's happening? I'm losing the crowd.
It's an orangutan.
One of Mother Earth's most precious creatures.
Hmm.
Why'd you open your bonghole, you smelly hippie?
You'd sacrifice a beautiful woman to save a moderately attractive monkey?
You must've 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 the real female?
I'll get her for you.
I realize 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.
Stop!
People of Earth.
I am Jrrr of the planet Omicron Persei 8.
Could someone 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 blarks.
But elder one...
Flingle, glorg, glorg-and-a-gloob...
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.
Is this true, earthling?
Leela's garbled words have opened my eyes.
Okay, that's a start.
That's very earth-friendly.
Now, everyone join hands!
Join hands, please!
I'd like to lead you all in some swaying.
Come on. Pay attention.
I said do it!
- Yeah. - Is he your friend, too?
No.
Aah!
This is not happening.
I think there was something funny in that hippie.
Thank you, Jrrr.
I hope you'll always think of me as your mom.
When my species grows up, we eat our moms.
Whoop!
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.
Ooh.
Hmm?
Whoa-ho-ho.
Whoo.
Yeah...
I feel like I'm flying.
A toast to Leela.
She showed us it's wrong to eat certain things.
- Hear, hear! - Let's get drunk!
Aw! Thanks, guys.
- Pass the veal, please. - Here you go.
Mmm. Let me get some of that suckling pig.
Who wants dolphin?
Dolphin?
But dolphins are intelligent.
Not this one.
He blew all his money on instant lottery tickets.
- Oh! - That's different.
Pass the blowhole.
Can I have a fluke?
Hey, quit hoggin' the bottlenose.
Toss me the speech center of the brain.