(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)
(CLEARS THROAT)
For my next trick, notice I have nothing up my sleeves
and nothing in my head.
So, if my lovely assistant will kindly supply me
with an ordinary, non-fake pitcher of milk...
Behold! The milk has vanished.
Exiled, perhaps, to another dimension.
Amazing.
That's why they call you Bender the Magnificent.
No, it isn't.
FRY: Whoa.
They discovered an intact 20th-century pizzeria,
just like the one I used to work at.
Interesting.
No, wait, the other thing.
Tedious.
Let's go check it out.
You can see how I lived before I met you.
You lived before you met me?
Sure, lots of people did.
Really?
(BENDER HUMMING)
Truly, they were as gods, who built this place.
WOMAN: Next,
we come to the splendidly preserved wooden pizza paddle.
(BEEPS)
Scientists theorize
it was used to gently discipline the delivery boy.
FRY: Wait a second.
This is Panucci's.
I used to work in this exact pizzeria.
And for your information, lady,
this was not just used to paddle my butt.
It was also used to move pizzas and crush rats.
I don't know where you get your facts, sir,
but I am a volunteer housewife with 45 minutes of orientation
and a Harlequin romance about archaeologists.
Don't wave your fancy degrees at me.
I recognize all this stuff.
Petrified sausages,
old Mr. Vitelli,
and that's... (GASPS)
- (BUZZER SOUNDS) - MAN: Yes?
Pizza delivery for a Mr...
Seymour Asses.
There's no one by that name here.
Or anywhere.
I hope that in time you'll realize what an idiot you've been.
I wouldn't count on that.
(WHIMPERING)
Aw. Poor little guy.
You look like you haven't eaten in a month.
Here.
But if Mr. Panucci asks, your name is Seymour Asses.
(BARKS)
I like you, Seymour.
You're not constantly judging me like all the other dogs.
Are you?
Nah. We understand each other.
(GOBBLING)
People think you're just a dumb mutt who smells bad,
can't find a girlfriend and has a crummy job.
But you're keeping it real and you call no man "mister."
Well, goodbye.
Live long and prosper.
(WHINES SOFTLY)
(BARKING)
Blech.
That's the least appetizing calzone I've ever seen.
No, that's my dog in there.
It's an outrage, I say.
Hey...
Ow.
I'm taking him home and I'd like to see anyone try and stop me. Uh-oh.
(GRUNTING)
And then he was ejected by the guards.
Needless to say, I was mortified.
Well, it's not right to make my dead pet an exhibit.
That's like digging up Lassie
and putting her on display in the Louvre.
Lassie is on display in the Louvre.
I know.
I was deliberately describing a similar situation.
Why don't you try protesting?
Like those native Martians.
Always whining that people don't treat their ancestors bones with respect.
(SLURPING)
Eh, protesting never works.
You're right.
I'll give it a shot.
ALL: What do you want?
Fry's dog!
When do you want it?
Fry's dog!
(ALL CHEERING)
I will now perform my people's native dance.
(DISCO MUSIC PLAYS)
Do the Hustle...
It says here that this part of The Hustle
implores the gods to grant a favor, usually a Trans Am.
(SINGING) I'm walking on sunshine, oh-oh
(BARKS MELODY)
I'm walking on sunshine, whoa-oh
That-a-boy, Seymour.
Right here waiting for me as always.
Just like that huge mushroom in my shower.
Hey, there's our little mascot.
Aw, you've been swimming in the sewer again?
You rascal.
Fry, clean up.
Seymour, clean up.
Good dog.
That's a good Seymour.
(VIDEO GAME BEEPING)
Yo, there's dog fur on my slice.
Nah, that's vermicelli.
No fur in here.
(SNEEZES)
(BARKING)
FRY: He's so cute.
He can do two things at one time, eat and swim.
Ooh, three things.
(TAPE DECK SLOWSAND DISTORTS SONG)
Fry, it's been three days.
You can't keep boogying like this.
You'll come down with a fever of some sort.
Mr. Fry, I'm Dr. Ben Beeler,
the paleontologist who discovered your dog,
or as some call it, the Beelersaurus.
So do I get Seymour back?
Are you caving to political pressure?
No. We're sorry,
but there's just too much that fossil can teach us
about dogs from your time.
His name was Seymour.
He was once intimate with the leg of a wandering saxophonist.
He had wet dog smell,even when dry.
And he was not above chasing the Number 29 bus.
The 29? Interesting.
- That's all I needed. Ray? - I'm good.
Okay, then, here's your dog back.
(CHORTLING)
Seymour!
Lady and gentleman,
how about a hand for my temporary replacement assistant!
I was all in this part.
It's magic.
You're not fit to wear Fry's leotard!
Stop!
Good news, everyone.
Hooray, he's back!
And he's looking for a garbage can to put the rock in.
Here you go, buddy.
No, actually we've discovered that Fry's dog was fast-fossilized,
preserving its cellular structure.
Which means we can clone it.
Seymour will live again!
- (GASPS) - A little land mammal.
Can you believe it, Bender?
I'm going to havemy best friend back.
(SOBBING)
Why the idiot convention?
Ah, Cubert, my precious babe.
I'm going to attempt to clone Fry's dog
using the very same apparatus I used to clone you.
Ooh, look.
There's a smidge of toe still in here.
You see, beneath the fossil's crunchy mineral shell,
there's still a creamy core of dog nougat.
So will Seymour remember how to sing Walking on Sunshine?
Amazingly, yes.
In cases of rapid fossilization, I can press this brain-scan button,
retrieving Seymour's memories at the precise instant of doggy death.
I'm going to get my puppy back.
In your face, Grim Reaper!
Crappy, ineffective reaper.
I just need to reset the Clone-o-Mat from human mode
to dog mode.
COMPUTER:The dog says...(MOOS)
Oh-oh, this may take a while.
(VIDEO GAME BEEPING)
You stink, loser!
Hey, Fry, pizza going out.
Come on!
But I'm celebrating New Year's Eve.
Like you got squat to celebrate.
You're a delivery boy this millennium
and you'll be a delivery boy next millennium.
(FRY SIGHS)
(WHIMPERING)
What's with Seymour?
It's like he don't want you to go
or he thinks your pants is too short or something,
which is crazy, because frankly, you look fabulous.
Now get going!
(WHINING)
I won't be gone long, Seymour.
Just wait here till I come back.
(WHINING)
Hello, pizza delivery for...
(READS)
Aw, crud.
Here's to another lousy millennium.
CROWD: Five, four,
three, two...
(BLARES)
(SCREAMS)
What the...
(GASPING)
A dog collar for me?
You shouldn't have.
That's for Seymour.
Oh.
(SQUEAKING)
Say, why'd you get me a subscription to the Daily Growl?
That's not a reputable journal of opinion.
Oh, that's also for Seymour.
I'm getting everything ready for when he's cloned.
Are you on the junk, Fry?
Why are you wasting time on a creature of inferior intelligence?
Hey, he was smart.He could fetch.
I can fetch.
He could dig up bones.
Hello. Charlemagne?
Plus, I bet he couldn't create a laser show with his head.
(TECHNO MUSIC PLAYING)
Look, Bender, this has nothing to do with you.
That's impossible!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm working on Seymour's doghouse.
(GRUMBLING)
No one ever asks if Bender would like to live
in a tiny little house.
Not that I would.
A tiny little house that says "Bender" on it.
Ow!
FRY: (ON RECORDING) This is Fry.
If you're calling about the used towels for sale,
they're still available for $45 each.
(ANSWERING MACHINE BEEPS)
Phil, it's your father. Where are you?
You're holding up New Year's brunch.
Your brother can't wait any longer.
Hello, first bologna of the new millennium.
(SEYMOUR BARKING)
Ah, here he comes.
That's him and Seymour.
Well, that's weird.
Seymour's here, but...
Go! Go! Touchdown!
But where's Philip?
I'm telling you, the Y2K computer's got him.
We'll face burning roads, rivers exploding,
calculators transformed into Scud missiles.
There's nothing we can do.
(BARKS WALKING ON SUNSHINE)
What's that, Seymour?
You walking on sunshine?
(WHINING)
He's trying to tell us something. Maybe he can lead us to Philip.
Should we follow him?
To our deaths? Negatory.
It's the Y2K trying to lure us into an ambush, and I ain't buying it.
Pass the bologna.
(BOTH GRUNTING)
Are you two going to be done soon?
Sorry, but we need to practice hand-to-hand combat
in case an enemy knocks the laser guns
out of our hands and they slide way across the room.
Well, could you do it someplace else?
I'm setting up Seymour'sdoggie bed.
- Okay. - Ow!
(GROANING)
(WHISTLING TUNE)
Heel, boy, heel.
Oh, hello, Fry.
I guess I didn't notice you there.
I'm having such fun with my new best friend,
Robo-Puppy.
That's nice.
I was just out walking him.
Yes, you can walk him.
Of course, after he goes, you have to refill the canisters.
Come here, boy. Pet, pet, pet.
ROBO-PUPPY: Robo-Puppy receiving petting.
Bender, are you jealous of Fry's puppy?
That's so adorable.
Jealous? Not when I have the love of Robo-Puppy here.
Robo-Puppy, lick my cheek.
Robo-Puppy preparing to lick cheek.
Robo-Puppy commencing cheek licking.
Licking in progress.
Licking complete.
Robo-Puppy truly is robot's best friend, huh?
Ah! There, perfect.
(FANFARE PLAYING)
Good news, everyone.
The Clone-o-Mat is ready!
(CHEERING)
Finally.
(GROWLS)
Robo-Puppy commencing two hour yipping session.
(MECHANICAL YIPPING)
Robo-Puppy mistreatment alert!
Behold once more, the mighty Clone-o-Mat.
Requiring such vast amounts of electricity that we must
harness the elemental power of nature itself.
- (THUNDER CRASHING) - (ALL GASPING)
I speak, of course,
of molten lava deep within the Earth's core.
To the subbasement.
(CLANKING)
(GRUNTING)
(ALL GASPING)
Powering up Clone-o-Mat.
Placing fossil on the plat-clone-o-form.
Initiating dog brain CAT scan.
Come on, boy, come back to life.
Know ye now what it feels like to be Dog God.
Commencing DNA extraction.
(HIGH-PITCHED WHIRRING)
Fry, come on, the talent show.
What? I'm in the middle of something.
But if we don't perform, in what sense do we have an act?
Bender, enough. Leave me alone.
So that's how it is, huh?
I thought you were my friend,
but if you love your dog so much maybe you'd rather play fetch.
- No! - (GASPS)
(SCREAMS)
(EVIL CACKLE)
Now I'm all you got.
- I hate you! - (CLANKING)
I hate you, you evil metal man!
Ow!
So anyway, your dog is melted.
Now we're friends again.
Not necessarily,
for the dog may yet survive.
May yet? Really?
Indeed.
You see, that fossilwas made of dolomite,
the tough black mineralthat won't cop out
when there's heat all about.
By contrast, observe the lava's effect on this ice swan.
Of course, that would have melted even at room temperature.
I just wanted to get rid of it.
But had it been made of that righteous mineral dolomite,
there's a slim chance it might have survived.
So Seymour might still exist?
Perhaps, for a few minutes.
It's dolomite, baby.
Then I'm going in after him.
(GRUNTING)
(ALL HOLLERING)
He'd come after me.
(BARKING)
(SNIFFING)
(WHIMPERS)
(PANTING)
(SNIFFING)
(BARKING)
Acting like a moron won't bring your dog back.
Then all hope is lost.
(SNIFFLING)
Goodbye, Seymour.
(SOBBING)
Please stop crying, Fry.
Here.
I assumed you were just pretending to love the dog
to toy with my emotions.
Oh, what have I done?
You didn't do anything.
Don't beat yourself up.
Fry, I'm sorry.
I should have understood how someone can love
an inferior creature, because I love you.
Not in the way of the ancient Greeks,
but the way a robot loves a human,
a human loves a dog,
and, occasionally, a gorilla loves a kitty.
I'm going in.
I'm a professor.
Why isn't anyone listening to me?
You can't go in because you'll melt.
The fossil only has a chance because it's made of dolomite.
- I'm 40% dolomite. - (CLANGS)
(ALL GASPING)
Oh, it's hot. Oh, it's very hot.
(CLANKING)
(BARKING)
Oh, I am one hungover cryogenicist.
Just throw that mutt in the freezer till his owners get here.
You can't solve all your problems by freezing them, boss.
I think you're forgetting our motto.
Are you the cryogenicist who called about our son's dog?
Oh! You must be the Frys.
Yeah, he's right over there.
Sorry we're late.
We all got sickfrom eating bad bologna.
Y2K.
What's he so worked up about?
He's just upset'cause our boy's missing.
Come on, you overgrown rat, lead us to Philip.
(WHIMPERING)
Bender's been down there too long.
I'm going in after him.
Professor! Lava! Hot!
This is all my fault.
I let my best friend risk his life just to get my dead dog back.
(SOBBING)
(RUMBLING)
Bender!
And that is why they call me Bender the Magnificent.
Hey, where'd everybody go?
- Okay, let's clone us some dog. - Yeah!
Very well...
Let this abomination unto the Lord begin!
(HIGH-PITCHED WHIRRING)
Interesting.
It seems Seymour died at the ripe old age of 15.
Fifteen?
You mean, he lived for 12 more years after I got frozen?
Indeed.
- Stop the cloning. - (BOTH GASP)
Oh, sure,smash the smart guy's machine.
Fry, what's wrong?
Think about it.
Seymour lived a full life after I was gone.
He probably even added new songs to his repertoire.
But that's a good thing.
Walking on Sunshine sucks noodles.
I had Seymour till he was three.
That's when I knew him, and that's when I loved him.
I'll never forget him.
But he forgot me a long, long time ago.
(MELANCHOLY MUSIC PLAYING)
If it takes forever
I will wait for you
For a thousand summers
I will wait for you
Till you're back beside me
Till I'm holding you
Till I hear you sigh
Here in my arms...
Ow!
If it takes forever
I will wait for you
For a thousand summers
I will wait for you...
(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)