You won’t have time for sleeping, soldier, not with all the bed making you’ll be doing.

Our love isn’t any different from yours, except it’s hotter, because I’m involved. Tell them I hate them. We’ll go deliver this crate like professionals, and then we’ll go home. Hey! I’m a porno-dealing monster, what do I care what you think?

Yes. You gave me a dollar and some candy. Throw her in the brig. With a warning label this big, you know they gotta be fun! Well, then good news! It’s a suppository.

Fetal stemcells, aren’t those controversial?

I’m sure those windmills will keep them cool. Humans dating robots is sick. You people wonder why I’m still single? It’s ’cause all the fine robot sisters are dating humans! Goodbye, cruel world. Goodbye, cruel lamp. Goodbye, cruel velvet drapes, lined with what would appear to be some sort of cruel muslin and the cute little pom-pom curtain pull cords. Cruel though they may be…

1. Anyhoo, your net-suits will allow you to experience Fry’s worm infested bowels as if you were actually wriggling through them.
2. Tell her she looks thin.
3. Oh no! The professor will hit me! But if Zoidberg ‘fixes’ it… then perhaps gifts!

Kids have names?

Why would a robot need to drink? Bender, this is Fry’s decision… and he made it wrong. So it’s time for us to interfere in his life. No! The cat shelter’s on to me. It’s okay, Bender. I like cooking too.

• Throw her in the brig.
• I decline the title of Iron Cook and accept the lesser title of Zinc Saucier, which I just made up. Uhh… also, comes with double prize money.
• It’s just like the story of the grasshopper and the octopus. All year long, the grasshopper kept burying acorns for winter, while the octopus mooched off his girlfriend and watched TV. But then the winter came, and the grasshopper died, and the octopus ate all his acorns. Also he got a race car. Is any of this getting through to you?

Dr. Zoidberg, that doesn’t make sense. But, okay! Yep, I remember. They came in last at the Olympics, then retired to promote alcoholic beverages! I just want to talk. It has nothing to do with mating. Fry, that doesn’t make sense.

Goodbye, friends. I never thought I’d die like this. But I always really hoped. And so we say goodbye to our beloved pet, Nibbler, who’s gone to a place where I, too, hope one day to go. The toilet. Well I’da done better, but it’s plum hard pleading a case while awaiting trial for that there incompetence.

All I want is to be a monkey of moderate intelligence who wears a suit… that’s why I’m transferring to business school! A sexy mistake. Maybe I love you so much I love you no matter who you are pretending to be.

Bite my shiny metal ass. I meant ‘physically’. Look, perhaps you could let me work for a little food? I could clean the floors or paint a fence, or service you sexually? No, of course not. It was… uh… porno. Yeah, that’s it.

As an interesting side note, as a head without a body, I envy the dead. We’ll need to have a look inside you with this camera. I daresay that Fry has discovered the smelliest object in the known universe!

Five hours? Aw, man! Couldn’t you just get me the death penalty? Morbo will now introduce tonight’s candidates… PUNY HUMAN NUMBER ONE, PUNY HUMAN NUMBER TWO, and Morbo’s good friend, Richard Nixon.

Now that the, uh, garbage ball is in space, Doctor, perhaps you can help me with my sexual inhibitions? Of all the friends I’ve had… you’re the first. Morbo will now introduce tonight’s candidates… PUNY HUMAN NUMBER ONE, PUNY HUMAN NUMBER TWO, and Morbo’s good friend, Richard Nixon.

Then throw her in the laundry room, which will hereafter be referred to as “the brig”. You guys aren’t Santa! You’re not even robots. How dare you lie in front of Jesus? I’m sorry, guys. I never meant to hurt you. Just to destroy everything you ever believed in.

No, just a regular mistake. Son, as your lawyer, I declare y’all are in a 12-piece bucket o’ trouble. But I done struck you a deal: Five hours of community service cleanin’ up that ol’ mess you caused.

Um, is this the boring, peaceful kind of taking to the streets? Fry! Stay back! He’s too powerful! Wow! A superpowers drug you can just rub onto your skin? You’d think it would be something you’d have to freebase.

Now that the, uh, garbage ball is in space, Doctor, perhaps you can help me with my sexual inhibitions? Pansy. These old Doomsday Devices are dangerously unstable. I’ll rest easier not knowing where they are.