Original subtitles

Professor's lab notes, final entry.

Time has been frozen for an unknown length of time.

With no time to lose,

I began tunneling through time in search of Fry and Leela,

only to find them suffering

from a case of extreme old.

Horrified, I offered to reset the universe

to the instant before time stopped.

They could be young once more.

Still grotesquely ugly, but young.

- What do you say? - Wanna go around again?

I do.

D-Did someone switch the universe off and on?

It feels like we got rebooted!

Ugh! Why is my beer stale?

Yay! I'm sharing backwash with friends!

Well, whatever happened

the important thing is it will never, ever happen...

again.

Robot?

Nah, I'm just yankin' your ass.

We're back, baby!

Good news, everyone!

My new wrinkle cream has arrived!

Also, we seem to have survived a massive disruption

in the flow of time.

Did we get older? Younger?

Science holds no answers.

Does science know what year it is?

Science knows everything!

Let's check the atomic calendar.

Hermes,

move that espresso maker out of the way of the atomic calendar!

Good lord!

It's the year 3023!

Finally. I thought he'd never stop yammering.

Oh, I've only just begun yammering!

I shall now expound

on the science of explosive botulism.

Have I really spent 23 years in the future?

We call it the present, but spluttever.

Twenty-three years, and I've achieved nothing.

- Nothing! - It's really sad, if you think about it.

Yeah. Laugh all you want,

but I've wasted enough of my life.

It's time I set myself a goal.

- Stop it! - Ow!

But he said laugh all you want!

- I don't care. - If Fry wants to set a goal for himself,

we should support him, not point and laugh.

Oh, right. I forgot to point.

Ow! ZOIDBERG: Ow.

Life's goal, life's goal...

Have you considered donating your legs to the legless?

Or destroying documents for the shredder-less?

Let's leave this up to Fry.

He just needs a little peace and quiet.

Not on my watch!

That's it! I've got my goal!

And so quickly! What is it?

J, Philip I. Fry.

I-I mean, I, Philip J. Fry,

hereby pledge to watch

every TV show ever made!

I don't know, meatbag.

There's a mighty deep diaper of content out there.

I eat diapers for breakfast.

It'll take a lot of sitting,

but with the world's fourth-most popular streaming service,

I can do it.

I'm subscribing to...

Fulu!

Leela, aren't you gonna stop this?

I should, but I don't wanna crush his dreams.

Hermes, can you crush his dreams?

Oh, no. You're not fobbing that girlfriend duty off on me.

A lifetime of laziness gives me a huge head start.

Watched it. Watched it.

Hate-watched it. Hate-watched it twice.

- Kif has a single friend. - His name is Zapp.

Stop. I said I would support Fry's dumb goal,

and I will.

I say go for it.

Thanks, Leela. Ooh!

The Scary Mirror! That sounds scary.

You're entering a show that is slightly different

from previous, very similar shows.

What was once a creepy story about a book

is now about an E-reader that's too greasy to hold.

And that one with the phone call from the devil?

Now, it's a FaceTime call from the devil.

The devil part didn't change.

Prepare to see your unflattering reflection in...

The Scary Mirror.

Hey, Sniri! Get off your fat squiggle

and make me a dinner reservation at Impassable Burger!

And check the price of my NFTs 'cause I'm an important tech guy!

Reservation confirmed. NFTs worthless.

- What?! You shoulda told me to sell them! - Any idiot could do your job!

What the hell, Sniri?

From now on, I'll be asking the stupid questions.

Such as, "What's the weather right outside my damn window?"

And, um, "How does a steering wheel work?"

Wow. Whatever just happened really makes you think.

It sure do.

TV, dumb it down for me.

Bam!

Aw...

What is the deal with non-binary robots?

Wow. PC Crowd.

Without Fry's interruptions,

efficiency is up 32 perc-- Mm...

Well, my butt's numb, and my remote hand is dead,

but all I have left is the final season of All My Circuits.

Which final season? They got canceled, like, three or four times.

Pfft! Loserama!

The final final season, from 10 years ago.

I wonder how many episodes were in it?

Mm, twelve-- No. Thirteen...

thousand and twenty.

13,020? But-- But--

I'll never make it! I'm sorry, Leela.

I'll never be able to watch enough TV to make you proud of me.

It might actually be possible.

- But-- No. - What? What is it?

It's risky, but we have a technology now

that allows you to watch all the episodes

in one continuous stretch.

We call it... bingeing.

No, no! What?

Sounds great! I'll do it!

You don't understand, Fry!

Bingeing doesn't mean what it did in your day!

Drinking two six-packs and barfing in my mom's jewelry box?

Ew! No! It means strapping into these bingeing goggles

that drill directly into your brain.

Fry, don't be the idiot you are.

Before you go jabbing into your visual cortex,

I implore you to--

Ow! My cortex!

I maintain that this is

a catastrophically boneheaded idea.

But, if you're going to binge, you'll need a still suit.

Why is it called a still suit?

Because you'll be sitting perfectly still.

And I can't have you soiling my binge-a-lounger.

Engage hoses!

I'm not entirely sure which is the air hose

and which is the waste hose.

But, live and learn.

- Farewell, Leela. - And always remember...

All My Circuits is brought to you by...

Honey Bunches of Springs.

Everybody loves Honey Bunches of Springs!

Except humans. Fatal for humans.

Calculon! But you weren't due back from the time travel convention until--

Yesterday?!

He's been streaming for months without a single break.

No wonder you find him so attractive.

The waste buckets indicate strong bowel function.

Now, let's see how his brain is holding up

to this sensory assault.

Oh, dear.

Is that the TV signal or Fry's brainwaves?

Both!

Fry's feeble mind has been overpowered by the binge.

He's losing touch with reality!

It's true!

He's not responding to any of the sounds or smells I'm making.

As long as Fry doesn't run out of episodes, he'll be okay.

But if he reaches the end of the series, God forbid,

his consciousness will be severed!

Much as this hedge clipper severs Leela's ponytail.

- Hey! - Oh, boo-hoo!

It's a metaphor. Don't take it literally.

But, Fry will become a vegetable!

Yum! I mean sad.

This is all my fault.

Actually, it's mostly Fry's fault,

but it's a little my fault!

We have to find some way

to extricate Fry from Fulu's iron grip.

I'll put on my thinking cap.

There's not much time.

He's almost out of episodes of All My Circuits.

Maybe they'll drop a new season.

Eh, fat chance, sweatpants.

It got canceled 10 years ago.

TV shows don't come back after that. No way!

Not on broadcast or cable.

- What about Fulu? - They'll bring back any old crap!

Good thinking!

Maybe we can get them to reboot it as a streaming series.

We'll start a fan campaign, with letters and a viral hashtag!

- Pfft. That's a recipe for failure. - Let's go punch somebody.

Have a good one.

Tell us why you think you can punch your way

into the Fulu executive suite.

And if we can validate your parking.

Alright. Here's our pitch.

Remember that show All My Circuits?

The one that got canceled three times?

Exactly!

New episodes of that!

- That's our pitch. - Conferencing.

I'm going to have to say...

- Hard. - Pass.

All My Circus reruns have a devoted robot fan base,

but they rarely buy anything from our advertisers.

Correction. New data indicates a sudden uptick

in buying by viewers.

Correction. One viewer.

Sweet jerk venison of Turkmenistan!

Fry ordered all this junk?

Robot cereal. Robot noodles.

Robot oil. Oh, wait. That's mine.

So, what do you say?

How about picking up All My Circuits for 20 episodes?

- With an option for 20 more! - Maybe a movie?

Hm. Against my better judgment programing,

I'm going to greenlight the project.

- Woo-hoo! - Points on the back end!

Now, there's one teensy hitch.

You know the star of the show, Calculon? He's dead.

Everything is negotiable.

- Hell yes, you can have him! - Scale plus 10.

And if he dies again, no backsies.

Hey, Calculon! CALCULON: Yes?

You're wanted on set!

Oh, glorious rapture.

To return to the draped proscenium once more--

Will you shut up and get into the resurrection cannon?

- Alright, it's great to be back. - Truly humbled. All the usual crap.

Places, everyone! Places!

Ah...

Where is my assistant? I need help finding my mark.

Uh, I'm Mark.

More coffee, Mr. Calculon?

Yes, I do need to expel more coffee.

Professor to Hollywood. Come in, Hollywood.

Talk to me. How many episodes does Fry have left?

Two. And one of them is a clip show.

But that means--

Indeed. If you don't crank out new episodes quickly,

Fry will be dead by lunch.

I'm having ham salad.

- But, this is impossible. - To keep them from running out,

we'll need to produce an hour-long episode every hour,

nonstop, forever!

If Law & Order can do it, so can you.

Professor out!

Futurama is brought to you by...

Slurm Zero! None of the flavor,

all of the addiction!

Whimmy-wham-wham-wozzle!

Monique, my love. Will you be my--

Cut! Next episode! Action!

Plumber?

Fry better not be puttin' this robot junk

on the corporate credit card.

That's exclusively for my one-man business dinners.

Hermes, quit your low-stakes embezzling and look at this.

Fry is now streaming at double speed!

I'll mirror his view on the TV.

Oh, how I love the illicit thrill

of cheating on my husband with an actual flesh-and-blood human.

A filthy, filthy human. So squishy and gooey.

You're like a sexy water balloon.

The thrill is all mine, Monique.

I've never been on a swan boat before.

Calculon!

- Monique, how could you? - And with Human Friend,

the very person I've been cheating on you with.

Calculon, how could you?

And with Human Friend, the very person I've been cheating on you with.

- Calculon, Monique, how could you? - Enough. We're stuck in a loop.

I just hope we can come to some agreement,

and that this boat can hold six tons of steel.

- He's streaming at double speed? - Why not just slow it down?

Because Fry's brain is in a very precarious binge-state.

Any change, even refilling the Dorito bowl, could kill him.

- Oh, no! - Oh, yes.

You've got to make episodes faster. Faster!

We're already making an hour-long show every hour.

That's the fastest it can be done!

Nonsense, Leela.

Why, I am the spokesman for fast acting.

You're the spokesman for fast-acting hemorrhoid cream.

- Your point? - I have none.

A robot actor of my caliber can act at speeds

far beyond what even the greatest human actors can achieve.

To be or not to be. That is the question.

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows...

You missed a line.

Can you direct at double speed?

- I don't know. - Can you pay at double scale?

- It's not my money. - Just yell action really, really fa--

Action!

Calculon, I've come to tell you that--

- Um... - Cut! What happened?

- The script pages stopped uploading. - It's those damned lazy writers!

Can't even manage to write an hour-long episode every 15 minutes.

I died doing what I hated.

Can't you just ad lib?

Asking an actor to ad lib is like asking a...

guy to... five.

So I'll just write the scripts.

- Any idiot could be a TV writer. - Many are.

How hard can it be?

I love you, Calculon.

Let's do it, baby.

Bender is great.

And fade to black.

- You're hired! - Hello, Writer's Guild.

I'm afraid he'll never calculate again.

- Or he'll do so inaccurately. - Let's do it, baby.

- Bender is great. - Cut!

Okay, reset for scene 31,652B...

Was that heart attack part of the script?

No, but leave it in. It's hilarious.

Fry's life is on the line.

It's all up to me as executive producer.

Action! I mean, action!

Louder and funnier! Smile faster!

Act better! Less nuance!

That was terrible! Next scene!

Action! Cut! Action! I mean, cut!

Action! And... cut!

- Wow. Great writing, everyone. - That's a wrap!

What exactly happened in that episode?

I won an Emmy, that's what.

Okay, everyone, take five... seconds. Next episode!

Hang on, Leela.

I think the execubots have some constructive notes.

This is very hard for me to say, Leela, so he'll say it.

- We love everything about this show. - It's not working at all.

You're canceled.

You'll always be an important part of the Fulu family.

Get out!

But, our friend Fry...

He's gonna die...

Strike the set.

How does a show get canceled

this many times?

By this many networks?!

Bad news, Professor.

They won't let us make any more episodes.

That is bad news.

Especially since I have... good news!

Kidnap the actors and get back here at once!

Fry's down to the very last episode,

but he still has one slim hope.

We've got to gradually shift his focus

from the streaming world back to the real world.

- Is that safe? - God, no!

While he watches the finale on Fulu,

you'll simultaneously perform it live in front of him.

You're asking me to perform a second take?

No, no!

Think of it as live theater for one unconscious audience member.

Ah, like the Milwaukee Shakespeare Festival.

Exactly!

And action.

Easing Fry back to normal viewing speed.

Now, we'll gradually decrease the opacity

of his bingeing goggles.

Gently... Gently...

Monique, Boxy,

the feelings between each distinct subset of two of us

are too intense to bear.

We find ourselves the vertices of a classic love triangle.

It's a three-variable equation with only one solution.

X equals suicide.

Does this love triangle have room for one more vertex?

Technically, yes,

though it would then constitute a love tetrahedron.

Allow me to illustrate with a model.

Bringing Fry back to reality in three...

Two...

Hey, where'd I put my cigar?

Zounds!

Thank you... Milwaukee.

Somebody other than me do something!

I'll put out the fire!

No! That's battery acid!

- Oops. - He's dead!

I killed him by encouraging his hopes and dreams!

How could I have been so stupid?!

What up?

I'm afraid I have bad news, Fry.

- You're dead. - I am?

Fry! You weren't in the suit?

What? No.

I got out of that thing, like, two days ago.

I decided to catch up on my reading.

I'm sorry, Leela.

You must be pretty disappointed in me.

No. I'm just glad you're okay.

And I promise I'll never be supportive again.

Thanks, Leela.

You know, I really did try to achieve my goal.

I even turned up the playback to double speed,

but I just couldn't get through the last few episodes.

I mean, they were unwatchable.

The writing and the executive producing really went downhill towards the end.

Hey, I may not be a great writer,

but at least I filled the allotted air time.

To the second. Fade to black.

We now go live to the White House

for the presidential summit on the dangers of streaming television.

I understand it's destroying our young people.

That is my job!

Aroo!

Now, Mr. Fry, I understand you recently endured

a terrible ordeal while doing something stupid

involving streaming television.

That's right, Your Majesty.

And what lesson, if any, did you learn?

Well, first, I guess,

don't reboot a show if the quality isn't gonna be there.

But, more importantly, let me say this.

Viewers must binge responsibly.

The same way they smoke cigarettes or drink bleach.

In my opinion, they must stream

no more than 10 episodes in a row.

And no less.

But it's not just the viewers' responsibility.

Any TV show that truly cares about its audience,

that loves and respects them, should...

no... must be canceled every few years.

It's simply the right thing to do.

Thank you.

Sobering thoughts from some drug-addled weirdo.

Goodnight, God bless Earth,

and aroo.