Futurama: Bender's Game

Yes, 10!

Well done, Cubonius.

You decapitated the unicorn.

-Swell. -All right.

Oh, oh! We search his tail pouch for treasure.

Deep in the unicorn's rump sack, you find

60 gold pieces

and a mysterious scrap of cloth bearing the unmistakable stench of dwarf urine.

The same stench that was on the bed linens at the inn?

-The very same. -Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

I cast a spell of detect magic.

What you doing, mini-meatbags? Underage gambling?

Shame on you.

Count me in.

We're not gambling. We're playing Dungeons & Dragons.

Right now, we're fighting for our lives in the lair of the dragon queen.

Wrong, right now you're ass-deep in a folding chair.

Yes, but in my imagination I'm riding a golden Pegasus.

Giddy up, Sparky!

Am I the only one seeing him sitting here with peanut butter on his face?

Bender, were you built without an imagination?

What? Don't be stupid, of course not.

It just hasn't descended yet.

Fry, do I have an imagination?

I don't know, Bender. Why do you ask?

Were the other boys making fun of you?

Mmm-hmm. They said I couldn't imagine things.

Well, you never know unless you try.

Like, I didn't know if I could swallow a softball,

so I gave it my best shot and voila!

Wait, that's not it.

There she blows.

Warning, out of dark matter fuel.

That's not a warning.

A warning is supposed to come before something bad happens.

Warning, engines will shut down in one second.

That's more like it.

Uh-oh.

This space neighborhood looks kind of sketchy.

Rock 'n' roll.

That punk stole our hood ornament.

Now no one will know we have the LX package.

We need dark matter and we need it fast.

Fry, check Nibbler's litter box. Maybe he dropped a steamer.

Aye, aye, Captain.

Yes! I've never been so excited to see poop.

Well, maybe once.

There's gas in our ass.

Can you believe the price of dark matter?

It'd be cheaper to fill the tank with Nobel Prize winners' sperm.

Total dark matter purchased, $632. 14.

Your Speedpass will now be charged.

You lousy...

Hey, gets a loads of that ugly ship.

What shades of green is that? Puke?

For your information it's called Electric Mucus.

More like puke.

Whoa!

Yeah, why don't you come a little closer so my boot can hear you?

Calm down, Leela. You can vent tonight on your blog.

What's the matters, you couldn't affords the LX package?

Puke-a-doodle-do.

You're making fun of our ship?

Your ship is the most beat-up thing I've ever seen,

and I've seen Mickey Rourke's head.

Yeah, she's a little worky,

but you got to gets big time ugly to be five-time winners at a demolition derby.

That's five more times than we've won or even entered.

We do suck.

Yup, and it's gonna be six winses after tonights.

We'll sees abouts that.

Dark matter costs have tripled, so we must reduce expenses.

Therefore, we will no longer provide complimentary porno magazines

in the lounge.

-Darn it. -And no more wasting fuel.

From now on I'll be keeping a tight hold on the keys to the ship,

swallowing them before I go to bed and recovering them the next morning.

Professor, it's 4:00.

4:00 in the evening? Then, good night.

I don't care what the Professor says.

We're entering that demolition derby to prove our ship isn't a piece of junk.

But won't that turn our ship into a piece of junk?

Shut up, Zoidberg.

He's right, Leela.

But we have no choice. Rednecks insulted us.

So? Let it go. Don't let your temper get the better of...

Rednecks!

Using this magneto,

I will now guide the keys up the thorax and out via the frontal face hole.

That's the storage locker, the bolt, the other bolt, pay dirt!

(SlNGlNG) Rocket ship

Rocket ship

RlCH: Greetings, sports fans.

Though whether this outpouring of inbreds

can in fact be classified as a sport

is a subject of no small scholarly debate.

Well, wells, well, if it ain'ts Princess Pukerella

and her pukey puke-mobile.

Oh, yeah? Well... Shut up.

-Good comeback, Leela. -You shut up, too.

Rich Little, here, as Howard Cosell.

And now to grace us with its rendition of the national anthem,

please welcome what is lef of the Dixie Chicks

afer their tragic matter transporter accident.

We 're in horrible pain.

RlCH: And we are underway.

Whoas!

Yes! Now we're inflicting.

RlCH: Outstanding! Tonight we are witnessing a veritable clinic

and that ludicrous hullabaloo known as demolition derby.

Way to kill the franchise, Bakula.

Ladies and gentlemen, we are down to our final two ships.

In the storied annals of demolition derby, today will surely be remembered,

if only as the day upon which I was absorbed

into that hideous conglomeration once known as the Dixie Chicks.

Buckle your sphincters.

-No! No! -No!

-That broad's insanes. -But you're insansier, right?

Nah, I guess nots.

I've decideds to relax and enjoy life from now ons.

Yes! We did it!

AndPlanet Express takes the trophy.

(SlNGlNG) Rocket ship

Now, I'll use the magnet to get the keys back in there.

What? You mean I cut a big hole in him for nothing?

Don't worry, the Professor won't even remember

that he has a spaceship.

My precious spaceship.

My lone source of joy in the cold December of my days.

Come, friends. Let's take her for a spin to the malt shop like old times.

Leela to Zoidberg. Execute Distraction Protocol Alpha.

ZOlDBERG ON RADlO: Roger that.

Look at me! Look at me! Look at me!

Don't look at me.

Yes, she's a wonderful ship, all right.

As beautiful now as the day I got botched laser eye surgery.

Now, that's odd.

What's the fuel gauge doing on the...

Great Godzilla's gonads!

Who wasted precious fuel? Answer now or be punished.

-(SlGHlNG) All right, fine. I admit it. -You will be punished.

Oh, my gosh, 20!

Yeah.

Your pole arm does double damage,

and the gelatinous cube dies in horrible poverty.

-All right. -Hooray.

I proceed to cast a spell of darkness.

Most ingenious.

-Bender? -Me?

I cast a spell of darkness.

Pretty imaginative, huh?

No, you just did the same thing as me, but with a dumb noise.

Oh...

You're right. I'm great in every way except I have no imagination.

All I ever wanted is to play this magical game and I can't.

Yes, you can. You just have to lose yourself in the fantasy.

You have to believe the impossible is merely preposterous.

Okay. Here goes.

Visor down.

I believe, I believe.

Ooh.

I did it! I imagined something.

For 1.3 milliseconds, I truly believed I was a noble robot

in days of yonder.

Way to go, Bender.

What is thy character's name, good sir?

Uh, um...

I am Titanius lnglesmith,

fancy man of Cornwood.

Everybody out of the conference room. I am calling a conference.

Everybody get in here.

You wasted precious fuel just because you were insulted by some redneck yokel

from beyond the stars?

-lt was only half a ball. -That's not the point.

Your temper is out of control.

And to think I'd have never even known

if it weren't for the lengthy and unsolicited tattling of Dr. Zoidberg.

She also took home two rolls of Scotch tape.

Thank you, Dr. Zoidberg.

Hermes, incentivize that employee.

As for you, Leela, I'm letting you off with a warning.

Oh, thank you.

A warning that will be administered by this 50,000-volt shock collar.

Zoidberg, I'm gonna put my boot so far up your cloaca, you'll be...

Ow!

The collar will be triggered any time your thoughts turn to violence.

Profanity.

Son of a...

Or perversions of a sexual nature.