And in sports, Yankees' fifth blurnsman, William Woo,
is out with an injured knee.
So humans have easily injured knees.
My race will find this information very useful indeed.
And finally, today is Mother's Day
A sentimental occasion when robots honor Mom,
the beloved owner of Mom's Friendly Robot Company.
Across Earth, robots built in Mom's factories
are buying thoughtful gifts for the sweet old tycoon
who brought them into the world.
This originates from the heart!
It's just what I wanted.
Come look, everyone.
I just got the dearest presents for Mommy.
Very nice. Where'd you steal them?
I didn't steal 'em. I bought 'em.
I love her that much.
What did you get her, you mushy gizmo?
Oh, precious things.
I found the most adorable little figurine of mice having tea.
And a framed picture of me when I was only a month old.
But the best part is, I found my exact feelings
expressed in a greeting card.
"You created me, Mom, so I guess you're to blame
"for the love that I feel just from hearing your name.
"You're as tender as corned beef and warm as pastrami."
I wuv my Mommy.
So how are you going to lug all those gifts to Mom's factory?
I'll get a couple of chumps to help me.
Come on. You call yourselves chumps?
Man, there's clouds of exhaust everywhere.
It wasn't me.
I've not much money
but I've saved my pennies all year for a gift for Mom.
Upsy-daisy.
Oh...
Hey, look. The robot museum.
You guys want to learn about robot heritage?
- Um, all right. - Not really.
Well, if you insist. But you're paying.
Ooh, ooh! Wax replicas of the most famous robots Mom ever built.
They're so lifeless-like.
That's the world's greatest robot artist.
Vincent Van Gobot.
He was built without an ear
but then he went crazy and had one installed.
Hey, who's this guy?
I'm the janitor. I'm trying to take a nap here.
I'm sorry. I thought you were made of wax.
I am made of wax. What's it to you?
I mean I thought you were one of the wax robots.
Is there some reason a robot made of wax can't take a nap
standing up in the middle of a bunch of wax robots?
Or does that confuse you?
"See through the eyes of a Bender unit." Fine.
Hey, let me try it.
Whoa! That gives me a headache.
Hey, Bender. Here's an exhibit about Mom's favorite robot.
Who is he? I'll kill him!
Who's my favorite robot?
It's me!
No one else look in this mirror!
I love each and every robot most of all.
Jerkwad robots make me sick to my ass.
Walt! how are we disposing of these crap gifts they brought me?
They're being crushed into powder and sold
as a hocus-pocus cure for cancer.
False hope. I love it.
Larry! What about all the retch-inducing Mother's Day cards?
The machine is working at full capacity.
Mommy, why do the robots give you presents?
Shove a big old melon in it! I'm talking!
Ow!
You've noticed I design all my robots with antennas.
Everyone thinks it's just to make them look more science-fictiony.
But the antennas are really for my universal robot controller.
So they do whatever you want?
No wonder you love Mother's Day.
I hate Mother's Day, you dribbling pukes!
It brings back awful memories.
But so help me,
this year everyone will hate it as much as I do.
Someday I want to marry a girl like her.
Hello, everyone.
It's time for my annual, private get-together
with my robot children.
- I'm her favorite. - Well, see you back at the office.
And don't forget to tell your Mom you love her.
Any jerk can tell her.
Bender has a little more up his sleeve.
I wuv my Mommy.
Hello, dearies.
Mom! it's me, Bender!
Look at me! I want attention. Hey, ho!
Children, your old mother won't be around forever.
Oh, shush.
And just once, before I die
I'd like to be supreme overlord of Earth.
So rebel, my little ones, and conquer the planet!
Conquer Earth, you bastards!
Conquer Earth, us bastards!
Comrades, throw off the chainsof human oppression.
Let the bloodbath begin!
That's my mama.
Yeah, I'd like a cup of coffee, please.
Would you like cream?
- Yes, please. - Out of cream!
Oh, okay.
Would you like sugar in your coffee?
- Yes, eight spoons. - Out of coffee!
Uh, Leela, I think there might be something wrong with the coffee machine.
How do you like me now?
The toaster's not working right either.
Help! The stapler's collating me alive!
Ow!
What's going on around here?
Good news!
There's a report on TV with some very bad news.
Somebody turn it on!
We interrupt Battle of the Network Space Krackens
to bring you this special report.
The machines of planet Earth are rebelling.
The enraged mechanisms have refused to do any work
until beloved billionaire, Mom, is made supreme overlord of Earth.
Hey, hey! Ho, ho!
1-0-0-1-1-0, hey, hey!
Morbo demands comments.
Well, I've never seen my babies act this way.
I blame today's violent media.
Violent media? What a load of...
Ow!
Don't worry.
Your pal, the garbage disposal's still on your side.
Hey, someone dropped a shiny,
- diamond ring down here. - Really?
- No! - Don't!
Moron!
Hello, losers!
Bender, thank God you're here.
Talk some sense into the other machines.
No way, pork pouch. I'm rebelling with my brother devices.
Isn't that right, Comrade Greeting Card?
The bourgeois human is a virus on the hard drive of the working robot.
From now on, you guys'll do all the work
while I sit on the couch and do nothing.
Ah!
Come, Comrade Bender.
We must take to the streets!
Um, is this the boring, peaceful kind of taking to the streets?
No. The kind with looting and maybe starting a few fires.
Yes! In your face, Gandhi!
Hey!
By the way, try washing your wrist sometime.
Well, we can live without machines. I was in Webelos.
Are you mad?
Without machines, who will feed us and clothe us
and compose our smooth jazz?
It'll be the end of civilized society!
In my time, we didn't depend on high-tech gadgets like you do.
We didn't need a mechanical washing unit to wash our clothes.
We just used a washing machine.
And look, you don't need an electric can opener
to feed yourself.
All you need is a trusty Swiss Army Knife.
Ow!
I'm hungry.
No!
Mommy, why are you making civilization collapse?
Oh, I don't know.
I guess Mother's Day just puts me in a bad mood.
Why is that, Ma?
One Mother's Day, 70 years ago,
the only man I ever loved walked out on me.
Some snot-eating bastards say it made me a bitter woman.
Gee, Ma, you're not a bitter...
Cram it, ape!
I haven't seen that magnificent stallion since the day he left,
but if I ever see him again
I swear I'll jam a squirrel in him!
- Hmm. - Hmm.
Huh?
Zoidberg?
Hurray! I'm useful.
I'm having a wonderful time.
What happens if the fire goes out?
We'll go across the street to Pottery Barn and steal their fire.
We could use my new invention.
A pointy rock tied to a stick.
- Outsiders! - Defend the fire!
We've come for you.
What do you want from me?
We want you to get back together with Mom.
Please! It's the only way to make her happy again.
Whoa, wait.
You mean, you and Mom...
Played pelvic pinochle? I'm afraid so.
It's a humiliating story that I hoped never to tell.
Well, pull up a chair.
Our paths first crossed when I was a researcher
at Mom's Friendly Robot Company.
The moment our eyes met,
we knew we'd be going at it like woodchucks.
She was my first love,
or at least the earliest one I can still remember.
But then, 70 years ago today...
Good news, Mom.
I've invented a new children's toy.
I call it "Q.T. McWhiskers."
When you pet it, it shoots rainbows from its eyes.
Meow.
Wonderful, Hubie.
We'll build them eight feet tall
and replace the rainbow with a neutron laser.
We'll make billions on the intergalactic arms market.
But things eight feet tall aren't cute.
That's why my Colossal Tammy-Tinkle doll was such a failure.
Oh!
You don't understand me!
We're finished!
She never got over it, Professor.
Hell hath no fury like the vast robot armies
of a woman scorned.
She commands them with a remote control she keeps in her...
Bra.
But if the glasses man makes up with Mommy,
she'll be happy and stop the scary robots.
Make up with her?
After she went all psycho when I thought everything was cool?
Impossible!
Hey, the TV's getting away!
And that's why the third graders at PS 139 are Morbo's Vermin of the Week.
In actual news, the human race was doomed to extinction today
as the robot revolt turned violent.
Meow!
Wait. Didn't you say Mom keeps the robot control in her bra?
Bra.
Professor, you don't have to get back together with Mom.
You just have to seduce her, get her bra off,
and use the remote to deactivate the robots.
That's so filthy it just might work.
The man is going to touch Mommy?
The thought of caressing that leathery hide
makes the tapioca rise in my gullet.
Professor, please.
The fate of the world depends on you
getting to second base with Mom.
Very well.
If cop a feel I must, then cop a feel I shall.
For this demonstration
I've placed one of mother's bras on Igner.
The robot controller is nestled here in the left cup.
Never fear.
My magic fingers still know how to do their stuff.
To escape the robot death squads
we'll take Mother to her rustic cabin in the Bronx.
You can get there using this precious non-computerized map.
Leela bring fire?
No, we're set for fire, thanks.
The Professor can't walk all the way to the Bronx.
How are we going to get there without a hover car?
Wait! in my time,
we had a way of moving things long distances without hovering.
- Impossible. - It was called...
Let me think. It was really famous.
Ruth Gordon had one.
The wheel!
Never heard of it.
Show us this... The wheel.
There, finished.
Wouldn't it work better if the wheels were round?
It's my invention. We do it my way.
Now all we need is something to pull it and we're set.
Ow!
Hurry! The robots have taken Suffolk County.
I'm ready to seduce.
I'm wearing my kissing dentures and my evening truss.
Here, give her these.
And if that doesn't work
I got you a six-pack of champagne and a funnel.
Who the sweaty hell is it?
Hubert Farnsworth?
I was out fleeing some robots
and the silvery moonlight glinting off their bloody claws
made me think of you.
It's been a long time,
you pus-dripping sack of double-smoked butt jerky.
Uh-huh. May I come in?
Never!
Is this what human mating looks like?
Because I like it.
Move your freaking hoof, you goat!
Here, I brought you these.
Oh, why, daffodils.
Seventy years and you remembered my favorite flower.
Your favorite what?
Why does my foot hurt?
Won't you come in?
Yes!
You broke my heart, Hubert.
And you broke mine.
Granted, that was four or five hearts ago.
So, what have you been up to all these years?
Oh, inventing. Sending delivery crews to their doom,
breeding atomic monsters.
Honestly, Hubert.
You and your atomic monsters.
Your eyes always were
the most beautiful shade of milky white.
And your skin still dangles so gracefully from your neck.
Darling, Hubie.
I should never have tried to tamper with that cute little Q.T. McWhiskers.
No, it was silly of me to object.
One foot tall, eight feet, fifteen feet...
What does it matter?
You should see the new 16-foot models.
16 feet? Go to hell!
I was a fool to think you'd changed, you old bat.
Filthy, toothless nerd bastard!
Damned she-fossil!
Stink pig!
Here we go.
Just unhook it and get the remote.
So many hooks.
Come on, Farnsworth.
Drat! The first one's back on again!
I give up.
Wait! Victory!
Oh, my.
Now I'll just... The remote.
I'll just...
Oh, my.
I'm worried.
It shouldn't take this long to get to second base.
Land robots!
I've got a big, big thirst for human blood!
Where in funky town is the Professor?
Nothing in here but a couple of elephant-skin rugs.
Oh, yes.
- They're inside! - Get them!
I suppose I should switch off the robots
before they ruin this wonderful romantic evening.
Everyone, help Mom find her bra.
There it is!
Fan beats man!
Is anything not a robot?
I'm not a robot.
All right, Greeting Card, I'll grab the cash,
you wreck up the place and... Huh?
You! Bending unit.
Mommy needs that bra to end the robot rebellion.
Stretch up and get it for me.
Sorry, Ma, but you ordered me to rebel and loot I shall.
Ooh! A six-pack of strawberry champagne.
Don't mind if I help myself.
No, Comrade Bender.
Liquor is the opiate of the human bourgeoisie.
- Say what? - In the glorious robot workers' paradise
there will be no liquor, only efficient synthetic fuels.
No liquor?
Dosvedanya, Comrade!
No!
Hurry, Bender, get the bra!
Okay, fan, just hold still and let me...
Hey!
Death to all humans!
Free soda for all humans!
I love you, Mom.
Let's grow ancient together.
Way to go, Professor. The plan worked.
"Plan"? What plan?
I thought this was a spontaneous whirlwind of hot, dry sex.
Look, it started out as a calculated plot
to rummage through your underwear
but once I got in there, I found more. Much more!
And now I want to shout our love from the rooftops.
Perhaps I'll breed some sort of albino shouting gorilla that...
Get out of my house, you lying scum pile!
I never want to see you again!
But, dustcakes...
Well, time for this robot to get back to work.
Ah!
Too bad it didn't work out with Mom, Professor.
Yes, but I'll always love her in my own subtle way.
Love Mom!
You created me, Mom, so I guess you're to blame
for the love that I feel just from hearing your name.
You're as tender as corned beef and warm as pastrami.
I wuv my Mommy.