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Is outer space still called "outer space" if you're in it?

You little slut!

I should have had you fixed the day you were born.

You're gonna get rid of it or else.

Shove it, Pop!

Don't tell me to shove it,

or I'll put my size 24 boot up your ass.

How could you have done this to me?

You... you harlot!

Okay okay, cool it, you two.

We've been getting complaints from all over this zone.

Relax, Commander. My husband's just trying to bond

- with his daughter. - You can keep your trap shut.

I blame you for all of this.

Your daughter can't help being a tramp.

It runs in your family.

All right, what's this all about?

It seems our daughter's gone and got herself pregnant.

You don't know the worst of it.

That dirty purple... Chode

is responsible.

When I get my hands on him...

When did this alleged act of penetration take place?

A couple of months ago at Chode's birthday party.

I don't wanna hear any more.

She got drunk and did it with him in a washroom stall.

When I think of that disgusting pile

of excrement with my little girl...

And now she refuses to terminate the bastard.

If you don't mind me saying, Bernice, you're taking this pretty well.

That's because unlike my loser husband,

I've taken steps

to ensure the vile act of copulation

never takes place.

What? What do you mean?

Remember that combat android you constructed last year?

The Arnie 1000.

Sure I do. The first time I program it

to fight the Gleopadians,

some grunt lobs a grenade at it,

and destroys it.

News bulletin, bonehead:

- It wasn't destroyed. - Where is it?

Right now it's traveling back in time two months.

I hope you didn't use a Federation time displacer.

- That's not allowed. - So's doing my daughter.

Babette refuses to terminate Chode's spawn,

so I've programmed it to terminate Chode

before he does her.

Bernice, that was sneaky, underhanded,

coldblooded and vicious.

I knew there was some reason I married you.

Cut the...! You married me for my kronigs.

Aw...

¤ In Dublin's fair city, there's a girl... ¤

¤ Molly Malone ¤

¤ As she wheeled her wheelbarrow ¤

¤ Through streets broad and narrow ¤

¤ Crying... ¤

¤ Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh. ¤

So I said to him, "Dr. Richard Turner is so formal.

Do you mind if I call you... "

D- Dick!

Give me your clothes!

You forgot to say please, sweetie.

Okay, girls, time to close up.

If you think I'm staying open all night again, you're...

nuts.

I said give me your clothes.

Hey, girlfriend, we don't want any trouble.

Get going while the getting's good.

How would you like a wedgie?

Sounds like my old gym teacher.

Whoa!

Ooh!

I'm looking for Chode.

You just missed him. He was here asking

about renting the place.

The homophobic little bastard took off

when he realized it was a gay bar.

If I ever see you again,

I'll scratch your eyes out, you bitch!

What are you looking at? You better not be having

one of your oral fantasies.

I'm merely trying to understand how you can eat that garbage.

I hear it contains rat parts.

Hey, Chef Gay-ardee,

on this planet, baseball fans eat millions of hot dogs every week,

and that's good enough for me.

Besides, they say rat parts make you smart.

Then please explain why Pittsburgh Pirates fans keep showing up.

Yeah, or how come you couldn't figure out

La Cage aux Poofter was a gay bar?

I told you. I thought "poofter" was foreign for snatcherooski.

I don't know why you didn't rent that place.

It looked perfectly fine to me.

Excuse me if I don't go into why I'm not surprised.

I'll just repeat: No birthday bash of mine

is gonna be held in a gay bar.

Oh, get off your soapbox. It's not even your birthday.

Yeah, but my guests don't know that.

They also don't know they'll have to cough up for parking,

admission, exorbitant prices for the booze,

and, oh, did I mention my little credit-card scam on the side?

Ooh, baby, I'm gonna be rolling in dough.

What makes you think they'll even show up?

Because I come up with a hook.

Hey, check that place out.

I don't know, Uncle Chode. That looks a little gay too.

Yeah, then why don't you drop your pants and stick your ass through the door?

If you haven't squealed in 30 seconds, the joint's straight.

Okay, let's go. The sooner we get this over with the better.

Relax. We got all night.

Yeah?

Then why are you calling? Something wrong on the ship?

No, I just miss you, that's all,

you hunka hunka burning testosterone.

- Where are you? - Have you been sniffing

- the ship's fumes? - Don't be a silly billy.

I'm just feeling a little horny. Thought you might like

to know what I have in store for you when you get back.

Oh, yeah? Ooh, that thing with your tongue.

What, you're gonna put your index finger where?

How wonderful. His mother never forgets to call.

Hey, Six, I'm gonna be back as soon as I can.

I just gotta check out this High Hair Nite Club and...

Move it, you two.

We haven't got all night.

Hey, Pop, did you hear what that finoik said?

Yeah, the streets ain't safe for decent people no more.

Okay, it's a deal, Gloria.

I'll pay you 10% of the take next Saturday night

in exchange for the room and your bartending services.

Yeah.

No guessing why this place is called the High Hair Nite Club.

What's that supposed to mean?

Nothing. What a loser!

Her head looks like an explosion in a mattress factory.

I like it. Her do is reminiscent of Flock of Seagulls.

Yeah, and a flock of seagulls could nest in it.

Gus, you're in charge of designing the party invitations.

Include a drawing for five-meter-surround-sound-

3D-flat-screen-TV door prize,

AKA the hook.

Whip, you email the invites to everybody we know,

except that clown Bobo.

I've had it with that bastard.

Jeez, that was painful!

I warned you about that hot dog, but would you listen?

Uh-oh!

¤ The itsy-bitsy spider ¤

¤ Climbed up the waterspout... ¤

¤ And washed the spider out ¤

¤ Itsy-bitsy ¤

¤ Spider ¤

¤ Walked up his crotch again. ¤

"You went down for me. I'll go down for you.

Phone 555... "

Where's that pencil?

Damn faulty toilet.

Jesus Christ, what a dump.

...then wiggle your bum like you're pulling up a pair of underpants.

Like this?

Hey, the light bulb in the can just blew,

and your crapper exploded. I'll need 'em fixed for the party.

Cool it, you two.

The "So You Think You Can Dance" tryouts aren't till next week.

Hey, Six, mission accomplished. Get us out of here.

I'm sorry, sir, I didn't... aw, Jeez.

You'll be beaming to Fabulous Heaven, no doubt.

Fabulous Heaven?

The all-fruit gay planet.

No, transport me to Jupiter 42.

Jupiter 42, that's a private ship. You got permission?

- Permission? - I ain't allowed to transport anybody

to a private address unless they've got written permission.

Sorry, Shirley.

I'll be back.

I didn't know docking with a mothership was considered incest, Your Honor.

I'm coming. I'm coming!

Oh, that was wonderful, Chode.

The best ever.

Yeah, well, I really prepared myself for tonight's session.

You must be looking for Gus.

He's the second door down on the left. Hey!

You must be looking for Gus.

He's down the hall on the right.

Hey!

Push me around, will you?

You... clown!

Chode, that clown looks insane. Let's get out of...

Run! Run, there's a psycho trying to kill us.

Us or you? Could you be more specific?

I need my beauty rest.

Let me through. I've got more to live for.

I haven't even had oral sex yet!

T'nuk, as your captain, I order you to the back.

There's no way he can shoot me if your fat ass is in the way.

Since you asked so nicely,

get out of my way!

Hold your fire!

Does anyone hear anything?

Chode!

Chode, let's use the shuttle to get out of...

- Beam me back down. - No parlez Anglais, monsieur.

- Beamez moi en board. - Merde!

I think we've given it the slip, Uncle Chode.

I hope so.

Sitting under a bridge in a mud puddle

at the crack of dawn isn't my idea

of a good time.

Speaking of the crack of dawn, what's with the thong?

Not that I disapprove.

What the hell were you doing on my ship?

I beamed myself aboard. The dude at the transporter boutique

wasn't in much shape to do it himself.

I don't get it. Who's that crazy clown

and why's he trying to kill Uncle Chode?

You're not going to believe me if I tell you.

Come on, kid. Give us some credit.

- We've all got open minds. - It's from the future.

You lying little...

Two months from now my folks will be in bed talking

and I'll be listening by the door. My dad had just...

Do you always listen to your parents

when they're in bed, you little pervert?

Well, I... hey, do you wanna hear my story or not?

Yeah, button your piehole, T'nuk. Let the kid speak.

Like I said, my dad had just...

Were they talking dirty? You know, using words

like cornhole, ream, suck?

Listen up, my dad had just returned from Bobo's ship.

There'd been this big bust up over Babette being pregnant.

I've always fantasized about doing Babette.

Who's the lucky guy?

- You are. - Huh?

Seems you give her one in the washroom at your upcoming birthday party.

Bernice has sent that android back to kill you

before you get the chance.

And you've transported back to warn Chode.

You gotta help me.

You have to get Bernice to call that thing off. I'm begging you.

If you promise not to screw Babette,

I'll return to the future and tell Bernice.

I'm sure she'll deprogram it.

- I promise. - Okay, wish me luck.

Wait, I hadn't finished. I promise to stick it to Babette

- until her eyeballs pop. - Huh?

Chode, are you crazy? That android will kill you.

You heard the kid. Bernice will call it off.

And if you guys think I'm gonna pass up this opportunity

to drive Bobo up the wall, you're the crazy one.

Besides, that Babette's one sweet piece of ass.

- 70 kronigs. - 70 kronigs?

I just got charged 200 at the door for admission.

What a rip-off! This party sucks.

I said charge everybody 80 kronigs, not 70.

Except that sexy little clown over there.

Her drinks are free.

I want her nice and loosey goosey.

Men!

- Thanks, Babette. - For what?

For the birthday bang you're gonna give me tonight.

Dream on, you bloated sack of...

- That's what you think. - What?

I said have another drink.

What do you mean you have no intention of deprogramming that android?

Read my lips.

Chode is toast.

But he promised not to f... ow!

Have sex with Babette.

Yeah, and he'd better not.

But if you think I'm gonna call off the Arnie,

you're out of your friggin' minds!

Why should I? This is my chance

to get rid of Chode once and for all.

That'll be 400 kronigs, fellas.

Get out of the way, you green freak.

Sorry, fellas, no can do.

Okay, you asked for it.

My wife needs a new handbag.

I gotta visit

the little girl's room.

I understand completely.

Ooh!

A thousand and one, a thousand and two,

a thousand and... hell, that's long enough.

Well, excuse...

Uh-oh!

There you are, you little vixen.

Come to Papa.

Oh, yeah, keep doing that.

You like that, you dirty girl, do you?

Yeah, I do.

Why the... did you tell us Chode was responsible?

I was afraid if you found out Adam did it,

you'd kill him. If you killed Chode,

well, who'd care?

But when you sent that android to kill him,

I felt rotten about it. That's why I went back to warn him.

Under the circumstances, isn't it about time you shut it down?

What do you think, darling?

We have to do the right thing, honey.

- Chode dies! - Chode dies!

What do you mean? That thing's still after me?

I didn't do Babette, I tell you.

Maybe you should have.

Dying for no good reason sucks big time.

You should get out of here before it sees you. We'll try and stall it.

I'll never forget you all for this.

Six, Whip, Gus,

uh...

- T'nuk. - Yeah, T'nuk. Thanks, guys.

Thanks ever so.

No!

Oh!

Damn it!

So it's agreed. You and Babette travel back,

decline the invitation to Chode's party

and Bernice will shut down the Arnie 1000.

- Yeah, okay. - I can't hear you!

Sir, yes, sir.

Please let me live and I'll become a new person.

I won't cuss anymore.

I'll give up the booze.

I won't hang out with hookers.

Yahoo!

Just because we won't be at the party

doesn't mean we still can't get it on, right?

I heard that, you little whore! Bernice!

Hey, big guy, you gotta give me a break.

It's tough to go cold turkey on so many things all at once.

What say I cut back on my language

in exchange for the occasional prostitute?

No no!

I was joking. Please, I'll do it

if you let me live.

You will travel back. You will not go to the party.

You will not have sex, not then, not now, not ever!

- You got that? - Yeah.

This only goes to prove you can't go around

screwing everything that moves.

That's not doing Paris Hilton's career any harm.

Besides, everything turned out fine.

We even salvaged that crazy android.

Once Gus has reprogrammed it,

we should be able to sell it for a few kronigs,

right, Gus? Gus?

That's it. Wiggle your bum like you're pulling up a pair of underpants.