Bender Gets Made
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I'm gonna see my favorite chef. . .
. . .TV's Elzar! This is the greatest second of my life!
No, this one is!
Wait, that one was worse.
Ah, so far so good on this one!
Now, here he is: Chef, restaurateur...
...author of Cooking Slugs For Dinner and Cooking Dinner for Slugs. . .
...Elzar!
Yeah!
All right! Yeah! Yeah, baby! Whoo!
Elzar!
All right!
Elzar, you're my god!
Please sign this sketch I drew of you!
Elzar! Bless you!
Now, this is why I prefer your non-stick robots.
All right! Yeah!
I hope you folks like Cajun food.
Because we're making down-home Neptune-style gumbo.
Step one: Boil some oysters in a pot of Neptune-style gumbo.
Boiled? lnteresting!
-Bender, try to be a little quieter. -No, you shut up!
Now and then, knock it up a notch with your spice weasel.
Bam!
Yeah! Bam it again! Knock it up a notch!
Who let him into the studio?
Come on! Work that weasel! Quit holding out!
If you stop interrupting, all right.
Against my will, I'll knock it up a notch.
I gotta film this notch-up knocking.
Think fast!
My eye! I'm blind!
Tell me, doctor, how's my cyst?
Grande.
I don't like this doctor. I've lost more patients than he's treated.
What does this look like?
A grayish blob?
Right. And this one?
A grayish blob?
Not as right that time. You have some corneal irritation.
Nice try, little boy.
You may have textbook knowledge and a real diploma. . .
. . .but I have more skill in my claw than you have in your whole body!
You seem tense. Try these.
Sure. Butter me up with candy. Well, it won't work, sonny!
Why always the fighting?
Your eye needs rest. Wear this patch for a week.
A week? What do you think, Dr. Zoidberg?
Clack.
Thanks for the help, Leela.
Leela! We're right here!
I'm not deaf! I just have to wear a patch.
Does it look stupid?
No! It looks so nice, I think I might get one too.
It's Elzar!
I'm so excited I wish I could wet my pants!
Let me make this up to you.
You're all invited to my restaurant.
I'll bam up a dinner you won't forget!
-All right! -Yeah!
Hooray for blind-ey!
Oh, God. I'm coming down!
Watch your mouth because your taste buds are going on vacation.
I made you each your own special meal, so dig in!
It's the biggest platter I've ever seen!
Jerk chicken, jerk beef, jerk pork! ls there any meat he can't jerk?
The king crab is to die for! Look, a tiny, edible crown!
-What's it made of? -Wood.
Oh, Fry! You gotta try this sterno-nicoise.
It's robot food.
It's so good! Just try a little.
No, really, I don't--
Are you all right?
Oh, yeah, the salad's fantastic!
So fresh.
Oh, my! That steamed carrot was a bit spicy.
Enjoy the dinner?
-Are you kidding? -God, yes, Elzar!
I enjoyed cooking for you. And to make everything square. . .
. . .I want you to have these chocolates.
What's this?
Take care of that whenever you want.
-Hey! -A bill?
You're charging us, after you blinded me?
I made a nice meal. This ain't a charity.
-Twelve hundred dollars? -Holy zombie Jesus!
We don't have that! Especially not him.
They took away my credit cards.
I know how to take care of this. No problem.
You're all under arrest.
It's a stone cold shame.
He's making a break for it!
-I was picking my nose. -Picking his nose! Get him!
My daddy owned a restaurant and punks like you made him fail.
That's why I'm a cop.
Now it's payback time. Oh, yeah.
Don't hit me! I'm brittle!
Wait! I've got the perfect solution!
Listen to the robot!
I love cooking, and he needs help, right?
-No question. -How about I work to pay off our debt?
I don't know. I try to hire people who are less unbearable.
-Bender's a model employee! -He's so polite!
-And hardworking. -He's made of candy.
Okay, I'll give it a shot.
-All right! Yeah! -Hot diggety!
You better keep your nose clean.
That'll be easy. I never wear it.
Time for my precious 1 0 a.m. meeting!
Where is Leela?
I'm here. And I'm getting along fine, thanks.
My walk took a little longer than usual.
Nibbler took me through the zoo.
Don't be embarrassed about needing help.
I could do your makeup.
I don't need help. I did this all by myself.
You look beautiful! My favorite artist is Picasso!
I'm off to the restaurant.
Someone can fill in for me.
I'll build someone to fill in for you!
A gamma-powered mechanical monster. . .
. . .with freeway on-ramps for arms, and a coal-black heart!
If that guy can't handle it, let me know.
I'm done siphoning out the grease trap. I need a mint.
What job do I move up to?
Pastry chef? Saucier? Soup guy?
Bam!
Bam yourself.
Who are they?
They're very good customers, and that's all I can say.
-Are they the Robot Mafia? -Yes.
You call this a table? You call this a table?
I wouldn't hit a guy with this!
The Don-Bot don't like it!
I ought to clamp you!
Calm down, Clamps. The boss likes to put his back against a wall. . .
. . .Iike this there.
But that table's--
Let me bus that for you!
What I meant to do was. . . .
-Oh! -I can't believe this!
Get out!
I like this guy's lack of style.
I give the guy cement shoes. . .
. . .which he likes better than his lead ones.
You think this computes?
I gave you a hundred.
You gave me a fifty.
-No, I didn't. -You did.
You stealing from him?
I'm trying, but it's not easy.
Check out his ball bearings.
Here's something for you.
-It's money. -Wow, thanks.
You earned that fifty.
-It's a twenty. -It is?
Oh, I'm sorry, I meant to-- Wait a minute!
Say, you wanna work for me as a hired goon?
I've always wanted to be a goon!
Hey, Elzar! I quit!
Okay!
We're gonna start with a delivery.
It's for a private lottery we run.
Wow! You guys run numbers?
Ones and zeroes mostly.
Take this disk to Sammy "The Mechanical Bull" Gravano.
Watch out for cops.
That's what my mom said.
That's good oil-aide, son. We could use you in the Robot Mafia.
Which I'm sort of in.
You flatter me, kind goon.
I'm programmed to only sell oil-aide and write cute backwards letters.
Oh, crap. The cops!
-See anything suspicious? -Nope.
But check out today's "Marmaduke. " Solid.
Hey, it's that skell from Elzar's!
Undercover pursuit in progress. . .baby.
-Gotcha! -What's the problem?
-Was I speeding? -We'll decide that after a search.
He's clean.
Smells nice too.
-Better than me? -Oh, yeah.
Courtesy of Mr. Bender.
Nice job. You passed the test.
You want to join us at our social club tomorrow night?
I'd rather plan some felonies.
Then we should meet at our headquarters.
Don-Bot, please. I can't make the loan payment.
Look into your hard drive and open your mercy file.
File not found.
That's a warning.
Thank you, Don-Bot.
Joey. Clamps. Donny-B.
We got a big score planned, but we need some muscle.
A little of this, huh?
This guy's got the strength of an ox.
He needs a nickname! How about Clamps?
That's my name, you numbskull! Don't make me clamp you one!
How's Blotto?
It's gritty, and I can keep my monogrammed slippers.
Good thinking! Hey!
This score ain't gonna be easy. There may be some death killing.
It'll be clamp this, clamp that, ba-da-clamp!
Well, Blotto? You in?
It's funny. I always wanted to be a gangster.
The answer is yes!
-Yeah! -Way to go! Way to be! Way to shoot!
Since we'll be committing crimes. . .
. . .you'll want an alibi.
An alibi, huh?
I don't feel good. I'm genuinely sick.
We gotta eat our blast-off sundaes!
I can't move. Oh, I think I'm gonna output.
You stay in bed. I'll eat yours.
Bender's sick. Need any help taking off?
I'm fine. A real pilot can navigate by feel alone.
That's coming out of your pay!
The secret of robot cooking:
Start with a high-quality oil. Then eat it.
So, what's this big score?
Heisting Zuban cigars.
Those are the best cigars in the universe!
I can stink up a hospital with one of those!
There he is. Let's shoot bullets at him.
Here's the battle plan.
We shoot, they surrender. . .
. . .we get the cigars and go home.
All without any killing. You've got some fresh new ideas!
I admire that.
-We'll kill them. -We got them out-clamped.
They won't know what clamped them!
Too bad you can't see. . .
. . .because there's a ship shooting at somebody.
I'm taking evasive action!
-Uh, Leela? -Stop bothering me!
I need full concentration!
-Missile evaded. -Eyes are for chumps.
Their desire to live shows me no respect.
Roll down a window and start shooting.
Oh, he got me! What a shot that guy is!
Wait, the letters that normally say. . .
. . . "Master Steering Wheel Co. " say "Nibbler. " Oh, no!
I'm back at the wheel, Fry.
Great. The one time I forgot to buy flight insurance!
They're coming this way! You should clamp them!
Gee, you think?
Think I should use these clamps that I use every day, at every opportunity?
You're a genius, you idiot!
The engine's stalled! I'm trying the manual fuel pump!
Hello. We're the Robot Mafia.
The entire Robot Mafia.
We're taking the cigars.
-You can't! -Unless you let us live!
Then you'll get off.
Blindfold them before they see us some more.
Boss, somebody beat us to it.
That's a joke at my expense.
Well, who's laughing now?
Where's Blotto?
He should be here, learning the trade.
Sorry I'm tardy, old bean. I was enjoying a watercress sandwich.
He's classier than I thought. Tie them up!
Capital idea!
I say, get the hell off me!
He sounds familiar.
My word, what have we--?
Nothing to see here!
Hey, boss. This crew list lists a robot.
Okay. I want you to find him and plug him. Then unplug him.
-No! -I got a surprise for that guy:
The clamps!
Wait, Old Spice.
Let me get this chap! I can be quite rough.
Poor Bender.
Oh, I don't feel good.
Chew on this! What ho! Stop it!
Take that, you twit!
No, stop it!
That's the last of them.
Now let's mafia things up.
Joey, burn the ship. Clamps, burn the crew.
Donny, give me a chance here, huh?
Let me take care of the dirty work.
Hey, I like your attitude. And your accent.
Keep it up and I might get you your own pair of clamps.
He's gonna get clamps?
Clamps! Clamps, clamps, clamps.
We may not have much time. . .
. . .so let's spend all of it talking about Bender.
He was like a computer that ran on magic.
Help! Help!
-Bender! -You're okay!
Yes, I am! Having just regained consciousness!
I've got an idea.
It's about to break! Yes!
-All right! -It broke all right!
Leela was in command, and when she kicked, it hurt.
It really hurt.
This is the big moment. I can take my patch off.
I'll do the snipping.
After all, I do have the proper equipment.
It's Blotto!
That gangster I saw!
Professor? Where were you last night?
Where am I now?
They sent a child to kill me!
I'm not going without a fight!
Fine kick, sir. But I'm here to deliver your cut from the heist.
Oh, sweet legal tender!
Tell the Don-Bot I quit organized crime.
I'll stick to the regular kind.
It's funny. With you sick and Leela blind. . .
. . .only I know what went on.
Maybe someday I'll tell.
And maybe someday I won't listen.
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