Original subtitles

Futurama is brought to you by...

Arachno Spores, the fatal spore with the funny name.

Cop Department is real.

The people you see are not actors.

Most of them aren't even people.

Come on, man.

I didn't fire off no laser.

Then why is there a smoking hole...

in your ceiling, sir?

What?

Crazy upstairs lady must have been shooting down.

Sir, you're on the top floor of this particular domicile.

You get that camera out of my house.

Just relax, ma'am.

Sir, sir, put down the lamp.

Okay, okay. I'm cooperating.

- That's it. Now put up your hands. - Nice and slow.

Aw, yeah.

And while you're at it, un-blur your face.

Oh, man.

Hey, Bender.

I thought you said you were in this episode.

Nah, this week I'm on Caught On Tape 3...

'cause of what I did in the coffeepot.

I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.

I'm just going through some things.

Ooh!

I'm going in.

Cop Department will return after these messages.

Is today's hectic lifestyle making you tense and impatient?

Shut up and get to the point!

Then come relive the carefree days of yore at Past-O-Rama...

where old New York comes alive.

It's like stepping back into the year 2000.

Time for the mammoth hunt, dudes.

Let's disco dance, Hammurabi.

Dyn-o-mite!

Sounds like your kind of place, Fry. Want to go?

Nah.

If I ever want to go back to the year 2000...

I'll just freeze myself again.

Come on, Fry. I really wanna see it.

You know how I yearn for a simpler time...

a time of barn dances and buggy rides...

before life was cheapened by heartless, high-tech machines.

But, Bender, you are a...

♪ La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la ♪

Cool. It's just like the good old days.

Give me your wallet or I'll cut you!

Leela, get a picture of me being "mugged."

I'll take the camera, too.

Learning is fun.

Ooh, ancient Wall Street.

I direct your attention...

to this ancient and mysterious tablet...

which has yet to be deciphered.

Do you know what it means?

Yeah, I asked a cop once.

It means, "Up yours, kid."

I got to say...

I'm really enjoying the day out with you people.

Hey, hey! A suicide booth.

So long, suckers.

Uh, sorry, Bender.

- That's just a phone booth. - Oh.

What were they used for?

In New York? Bathrooms.

Oh.

I'll be out in a sec.

"Tokens only." How does this work?

I'll show you.

Oh, it's a turnstile.

What's this?

Another bathroom?

No, it's a mobile apartment with no rent.

Come on, Fry. Get up.

Ah.

Wow.

The burial chamber of the 20th century's...

greatest spiritual leader...

Al Sharpton.

Ooh.

Now, this guy had taste.

It says he was mummified in ceremonial vestments.

We sometimes called it a jogging suit.

The traffic jams of old New York were a public forum...

for the free interchange of opinion.

Move it, crap-for-brains!

- Bug off! - Get home, bastard man!

It all started with Gerald Ford's famous invention...

the automo-car, which was powered by a tank of burning fossils.

Here we see a 20th-century assembly line...

where cars were constructed by primitive robots.

Ooh-gah, ooh-gah, ooh-gah! Ooh-gah, ooh-gah, ooh-gah!

We've come a long way, baby.

The fruit of the robots' labor was this...

the stately 1992 LaToura.

Hey, my girlfriend had one of those.

Actually, it wasn't hers. It was her dad's.

Actually, she wasn't my girlfriend.

She just lived next door and never closed her curtains.

Fry, remember when I told you...

about always ending your stories a sentence earlier?

Come on, let's sneak in for a closer look.

Sir, we don't touch the antiques, sir.

You don't... Uh, I'm sorry, you work here.

I should have realized from that ridiculous getup you're wearing.

Hey, this is from Miller's Outpos...

I mean, yeah, I-I work here all right.

Here. Move this rust bucket...

out behind St. Koch's Cathedral.

Did you drive much in the 20th century, Fry?

No. No one in New York drove.

There was too much traffic.

Nice. Listen to that baby purr.

There's a baby in there, huh?

It's just like riding a bicycle... Ay-yi-yi!

Oh, I think I got whiplash.

You can't have whiplash. You don't have a neck.

I meant ass whiplash.

I'm just glad we hit something. I thought we'd never stop.

I think I got whiplash.

How's that robot I ran over?

We did all we could.

You mean he's...

Good as new? Yes.

Leela, Zoidberg, the rest of you, this is Flexo.

Sweet llamas of the Bahamas!

Except for that stylish beard...

he look just like Bender.

No duh, dreadlock.

We're both bending units.

Hey, bro-bot, what's your serial number?

3370318.

No way. Mine's 2716057.

I don't get it.

We're both expressible as the sum of two cubes.

Whoo!

So, uh, Flexo...

sorry about crushing your body like that.

You okay now?

Well, I don't feel as bad as you look.

Ah, I'm just messing with you, kid.

You're all right.

That's some face you got, though.

I think they got a cream for that.

- No, you're great. - Well, just let me know...

if there's anything I can do to make it up to you.

Actually, your little stunt did a number on my back.

- You mind rubbing it for me? - Uh, sure.

Aw, yeah, that's it. Little lower.

- How's that? - Lower.

Yeah, that's getting it. Little lower, though.

I can't get any lower than this.

I'll say. You're rubbing my ass.

Hey, uh, check it out here.

Six beautiful devices.

They know what you like and they'll do it...

to within a tolerance of one micron.

Spin those fans, baby!

All right, mama!

Spin it, baby.

I don't like this place.

It's 120 degrees and there's very little oxygen.

Shut up and hoot.

Hubba, hubba. She is built...

In Mexico, I believe.

And that ain't silicon.

It's tungsten, and plenty of it.

Uh, yeah. Look at that exhaust fan.

Pervert.

Yoo-hoo!

Oh.

Thanks, moderate spender.

Please select erotic transaction.

Yeah. How about a lap dance for my pal here?

Ooh, yeah. Chuck-a-chong.

Uh, no, no, that's all right, really.

Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!

I'm telling you.

There's something about Flexo I don't like.

Hey, Fry, think fast.

Get it? It's chlorine.

It's funny because it's poisonous.

Yeah, keep laughing, brine shrimp, but he's bad news.

I regret ever running him over.

Take a rage dump, mon.

He's no worse than Bender.

He's much worse. He drinks and smokes...

and he posts naked pictures of me on the Internet.

- That's Bender all right. - I'm talking about Flexo.

Oh, I get it. This is cute.

You're jealous of Bender's new friend.

No, I'm not.

Mark my words. Flexo's evil.

He's the evil Bender.

Rage dump.

Good news, everyone.

Report to my bedroom for a private exhibition.

Hmm.

Everyone get in bed with me.

I have something to show you.

Feast your eyes on this!

It's beautiful.

- And huge. - Can I touch it?

So what is it already?

It's a single atom of jumbonium.

An element so rare...

the nucleus alone is worth more than $50,000.

- How much more? - 100,000.

That's why I hid it here, under my mattress.

Uh, Professor, can we discuss this somewhere else?

Why, certainly.

The atom sits atop this dime-store tiara...

which will be awarded to the winner...

of this year's Miss Universe Pageant...

on the planet Tova Nine.

Your job is to deliver it safe and sound.

Wow. When I was a little girl on Mars...

I dreamed of being Miss Universe.

- That's kind of pathetic. - Oh, come on, Leela.

Deep down, all girls want to be Miss Universe.

- Not me. - Really? Maybe it's just cute girls.

Due to the atom's tremendous value...

Planet Express would go bankrupt if it were stolen.

Therefore, we'll need to hire on additional security for the mission.

Oh, oh, oh! Oh, Mr. Professor? Right here!

Maybe we should stick with people we know and trust.

I mean, Flexo's great, but...

Flexo's great, you say?

Oh, well, that's good enough for me.

Welcome aboard, lad.

Space banditos have been operating in this quadrant...

so you'll each take eight-hour shifts guarding the safe.

First Bender, then Flexo, then Fry.

Wait, hold on. I don't like the sound of that.

Let's just go alphabetically.

Okay. First Bender, then Flexo, then Fry.

Wait, let's go by rank.

Okay. First Bender, then Flexo, then Fry.

Flexo outranks me?

That's "Flexo outranks me, sir."

- Halt! Who goes there? - Don't point that at me.

Fry who?

Look, I know Flexo's your friend...

but I don't trust him alone with the atom.

My God, Fry.

Just 'cause the guy's got a beard, you label him as evil?

Well, I got a label for you, pal...

an ugly little word called "prejudice."

I'm not prejudiced.

Aw, save it for the cross burning, Adolf.

- Keeping an eye on the safe? - You know it.

Well, looks like it's my shift.

You lie down and go off-line for a while.

All right.

Caught you!

I saw you looking at the atom.

So? I look at lots of atoms.

Shouldn't you be resting up for your shift?

Oh, you'd like it if I went to sleep, wouldn't you?

Whatever it takes to shut your yapper.

No, I'm just kidding. You're a joker.

Yeah? Well, here's a funny joke...

I'm going to sit right here till it's my shift.

- Suit yourself, skinbag. - That I will.

- Good. - Good.

- Good. - Good.

- Good. - Good.

Good.

Well, that's eight hours.

Yeah, eight hours of solid boredom.

Nah, I'm kidding.

You're a wonderful man.

Finally, the atom is safe.

Huh?

What is it? My God!

- Did you hear maracas? - No.

Then it wasn't space banditos.

Bender, lock down the ship.

Don't let Flexo escape.

Aye, aye, Captain.

It appears that Flexo has outwitted us all...

especially me... Bender.

How could Flexo have stolen the atom?

He must have used a sleep ray on me.

Sleep rays exist in the future, right?

- No. - Mmm. Then I must have fallen asleep.

Well, you were sure right about Flexo being evil.

I locked down the exits, but he may have already gotten away.

Okay, thanks, Bender. Let's fan out and look for him.

Roger that. I got a map of the ship right here.

Keep an eye on Fry.

We can't rule out the possibility that he did it.

Aha!

Aha!

Uh, searching. Hmm.

Fry, why are you looking for Flexo...

in my underpants drawer?

I didn't find him here ten minutes ago...

so I thought it was time to check again.

Ow!

Well, he wasn't in the, uh, kitchen room.

Say, Bender, can I hold that map for a second?

And leave me high and dry in case of a scavenger hunt?

I think not.

Give it up!

All right! Take it. Sheesh.

Well, looks like Flexo got away clean.

It's a darn shame.

He must have jumped ship with the atom the second we landed.

Or maybe... he never left at all!

Wait a minute. You're Bender.

Of course. Who said I wasn't?

But why were you wearing that scarf and the turtleneck...

and this fruity number?

It's a little thing called style.

Look it up sometime.

Our ninth finalist, Miss Methane Planet...

Halatina Smogmeyer.

And our tenth and final finalist...

Miss Earth's Moon... The Crushinator.

Thank you, Bob Barker.

I'm as happy as a girl can be. End statement.

Which one of these lovely womanoids...

will take home the atomic tiara?

Downplay the tiara.

Uh, we'll find out...

after these subliminal messages.

So you lost the atom, huh?

You're garbage, human garbage!

Do you brain-dead space jockeys have any idea...

how much that thing is worth?

- 100,000? - 200,000?

200,001?

You're closest without going over.

Well, uh, we'll be leaving now.

If you could just sign this form saying you received the atom.

I'm not signing squat.

You find me that damn tiara before the pageant ends.

- But, Mr. Barker... - Enough out of you!

I may be against the fur industry...

but that won't stop me from skinning you alive...

as long as no one wears the skin.

Well, gentlemen, it appears we're boned.

- Hey! - Flexo!

Get him!

Next up, in what is generously called "the talent competition..."

performing a traditional gangster rap, Miss... What the...

Got ya!

Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!

Shoot him! He's choking me!

No, shoot him! He's choking me!

I don't know which one to shoot.

Flexo! Shoot Flexo.

Women only room!

All right, enough of this.

There's the atom!

Aw, geez.

Bender? You stole the atom?

Yeah, but I can explain. It's very valuable.

I saw him snatch it while Fry was asleep.

That's why I ran to tell Bob Barker.

Whoa, whoa, wait a second.

You mean Bender is the evil Bender?

I am shocked, shocked!

Well, not that shocked.

I'm sorry we suspected you, Flexo.

It's just, what with the beard and all...

Don't even bother. You people sicken me.

I put my life on the line to guard that atom and this is how you repay me?

Well, you can go rot for all I care.

Nah, I'm just kidding. You guys are all right.

I'm so confused.

The Bender I liked turned out to be evil...

and the Bender I hated was good.

How can I live my life when I can't tell good from evil?

Ah, they're both fine choices... whatever floats your boat.

- Is this the guy? - Huh? Oh, yeah.

That looks like him, whatever.

- Wait! But... - Take him away.

Okay, let's put an end to this pathetic hoedown.

Brannigan, read the thing.

And the winner is...

It figures.

Who else but Zapp Brannigan would be judging...

the most chauvinistic, degrading, dehumanizing...

"Leela"?

Wait, you're making a...

Oh, look at that.

I feel like a princess!

Wait, what are you people... idiots?

I'm still going mano a mano with this envelope.

And the winner is...

Miss Vega Four.

♪ There it is ♪

♪ Miss Universe ♪

♪ There it is ♪

♪ Looking weird ♪

I almost had that tiara.

Me, too.

Well, you guys might both be losers, but I just made out...

with that radiator woman from the radiator planet.

Fry, that's a radiator.

Oh.

Is there a burn ward within ten feet of here?