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The Problem with Popplers
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I hate the Moochers. They offer you a drink. . .
. . .but their wallet's always in the other pants. . .
. . .which they borrowed from me!
Dinner ready?
The Moochers cleaned out our pantry.
All they left was baking soda and capers. And here it is!
Great. We're two days from Earth with no food.
Fight to the death. I'll cook the loser. Work his gut. I like it tender.
Maybe that planet has a drive-thru! Burger Jerk, Fishy Joe's or Chiseler.
No, we're a billion miles from nowhere.
It probably only has a Howard Johnson's.
A type-M planet, so it should at least have Rodden berries.
I'm good at foraging. I found mushrooms on my bathmat.
I found some rocks! You eat rocks, right?
Not even sautéed in a little mud?
Look! A ditch full of fried shrimp!
Are you blind? Looks more like a hole full of fried prawns.
This thing on my wrist says they're not poisonous.
Well, how are they?
They're great! They're like sex! Except I'm having them!
These would go great with rocks!
Look! Here's more!
-The planet's full of them! -I'll take a few.
-No! A whole Bender-ful! -Only what we need. Stuff the ship!
Planet Express ship, you are cleared to land.
Roger!
Oh, man! I'm inhaling these things!
You guys scored some primo stuff here!
They're tastier than a penguin nest. What do you call them?
-No name yet. -They're tasty. What about Tasty-cles?
-Not that. -Why not?
It sounds like frozen mountain oysters on a stick.
You know, Test-cicles.
The only names not yet trademarked are. . .
. . .Popplers and Zittzers.
-We'll call them "Popplers" ! -Yeah. Why not?
-You picked it. -Swish!
Call them what you want. I call them a free meal.
Slow down there, Sigmund!
I can't stand poor people getting free food.
We gotta sell these things!
-Good idea! -Bender's a genius!
-Business is great. -Great's okay. Amazing would be great!
Don't push! There's hot dogs for everyone!
Where do you want those rat droppings you ordered?
You're not the guy who delivers the rat droppings!
Popplers? Never heard of them!
Eat it or beat it!
These are great!
Boys, this is your lucky day! I'm Joe Gillman.
-You're a guy who eats at Fishy Joe's? -Hell, no! I am Fishy Joe!
I've got a fast-food franchise on every planet.
Except McPluto.
I wanted to write you about the in-store kiddie parks.
-The slides won't support a robot. -Not interested. But these are great!
-How much? -$1 a dozen.
You'll never make money. Supply them to me. . .
. . .and I'll sell them for $2 a dozen. I'll even pay you $1 a dozen.
I'll be rich! You too, but that doesn't excite me.
How do we sign?
Pop a Poppler at Fishy Joe's
It's a mystery Where they're from no one knows
Pick them, lick them, chew them, Stick them, if you won 't sue
Shove one up your nose
I can't pay.
That's the second billboard this week!
Sorry. I was distracted by those protesters outside.
Unless this is a nude love-in, get the hell off my property!
You can't own property, man!
I can, because I'm not a penniless hippie!
What do you want?
We're with Mankind for Ethical Animal Treatment!
Popplers are living creatures. Stop harvesting them for food!
-Or what? -Or we'll boycott Fishy Joe's!
You're vegetarians. Who cares?
Shut up!
Animals eat animals. It's nature.
No, it isn't. We taught a lion to eat tofu.
The point is, you shouldn't eat things that feel pain--
-Okay, we won't eat you! -I'll go get some more bricks.
I wish you'd throw out these old Popplers.
They're getting big and scaly. There's one left.
Mama!
Stop! Stop eating Popplers!
-Why? -My booze!
Popplers are intelligent! This one called me mama!
Congratulations! I assume Amy is the father?
Popplers can't talk.
She's hallucinating from lack of Popplers. Eat some now!
-No! -I said eat! Come on, mangia !
-Sorry, babies. -Maybe you should lie down.
Yes, listen to the father.
I'm telling you it spoke to me. Come on, little Poppler. Say mama?
Hearing one talk doesn't mean it's intelligent.
-Parrots talk and we eat them, right? -Maybe it learned as a parlor trick.
-Like Fry. -Like Fry! Like Fry!
There's one way, and only one way, to determine if an animal is intelligent.
Dissect its brain.
No! Mama! Stop Grandpa!
Enough chitchat! Restrain the specimen!
-Good. -Give me some of that special sauce.
Stop eating Popplers! They can talk!
Don't stop to talk! Eat Popplers!
-Cut it out! -Take a coupon! Cut it out!
I won't let you enter! Popplers are as intelligent as you or me!
You, maybe.
Hear me, hear me!
Stop eating Popplers!
Stop eating them with honey mustard sauce, tangy sweet and sour sauce!
Stop eating the fiesta Popplers salad!
Stop taking advantage of the cheaper 1 2-pack!
Stop enjoying Popplers on the patio, in the car or on the boat.
Wherever good times are had--
Tonight on Date Night.
Popplers. Eating them. Is it all right?
With us, the CEO of Fishy Joe's, Mr. "Fishy" Joseph Gillman.
Noted anti-eating activist, Free Waterfall, Junior.
And the Popplers discoverer, Captain Taronga Leela.
-Taronga? -That's her name, Philip.
Is it wrong to eat intelligent animals?
Absolutely not. No one's here to make that claim.
-I am. -Me too.
We're talking about a snack low in fat and high in profit.
You're crazy, man. He is crazy.
-There isn 't evidence of intelligence. -Shut up, shut up.
-Not true. This one talks. Say mama. -Ca-ca.
We'll bleep that.
I'm not saying eating meat is wrong.
-No one's here to make that claim. -I am!
-Eating smart animals is different. -Shut up, shut up.
Don 't force your tired philosophy on us.
The reason we don 't eat people is the lousy taste.
You're nuts. Shut up. Let me talk.
-You shut up. -No, you shut up.
Popplers are no smarter than any other animal I've served, cats included.
-Ca-ca head. Mean, old ca-ca head. -Sir, I'm making a point.
If these gutter-mouths are so smart, why don 't they defend themselves?
-Stop it! -I call murder on that!
I'm willing to grant it's murder. The real issue is...
... who 's gonna stop me?
We seem to be experiencing technical difficulties.
And crap like I've never seen!
People of Earth, I am Lure of the planet Omicron Persei Eight.
Turn down the TV, lndunda.
Dear Lord, they're back!
-We're doomed! -Doomed!
Doomed!
The creatures you call Popplers come from a nursery planet in our sector.
You monsters have been eating our babies!
We demandjustice!
As you ate our children, so shall you be eaten by us!
We'll begin with the firemen, then the math teachers...
...and so on in that fashion until everyone is eaten.
Transmission over!
Well, that went okay.
When you know you can 't scratch, that's when you really have to.
Oh, yeah! That feels a lot better-- What? It's still on?
I speak for all of Earth. . .
. . .when I mourn the loss of the Omicronian young.
We share your pain.
If we could undo the damage. . . .
It'd be great with quack-a-mole.
Stop eating our young! And it's guacamole!
All right. I'm putting them away.
What is it you want?
We demand. . .
. . .to eat one human for each Omicronian that was eaten!
Fair enough. How many is that?
It's 1 98 billion, sir.
Very well. You will provide us with 1 98 billion humans.
-And small fries. -Lure!
All right. Cottage cheese.
Sir? There aren't that many human beings.
A thought: There aren't that many humans.
We'll wait while you shore up the numbers.
Well, 1 98 billion babies in a few weeks.
We'll need super-virile men scoring 'round the clock.
I'll do my part. Kif? Clear my schedule.
Just wipe out humanity. Get it over with.
-It's the waiting I can't stand. -That's stupid.
Fellow earthlings, we've reached an agreement.
Using the twin guns of grace and tact. . .
. . .I blasted our worthless enemies with a fair compromise.
-They won't eat everyone. -I filled up on nuts negotiating.
Instead, they'll eat only one human of their choice.
We'll eat the first earthling who ate our offspring.
Here is the culprit, as photographed by our nanny-cam satellite.
She must be sacrificed, but the rest of you shall be spared!
Boo! Boo!
Tonight, the world watches in horror. . .
. . .as an earthling is eaten alive on network TV.
This scene of unimaginable carnage is brought to you by Fishy Joe's!
Try our new Extreme Walrus Juice!
One hundred percent fresh-squeezed walrus! Ride the walrus!
Ladies and gentlemen!
The Omicronians!
Greetings, Earth morsels!
-You suck! -Get a job!
I'll miss you, Leela.
You're just a carbon-based life form. . .
. . .but I'll always think of you as a big pile of titanium.
Bender means you're really brave, smart, beautiful and a great friend.
Just like titanium.
What a load! I was the one trying to save the Popplers!
You ate them like the fat hog you are!
And you were stepping on them for fun!
-You should be in here! -Someone's acting awfully aluminum.
My sweet, I've come to save you. I have a devious plan.
Great. Captain Moron has a plan.
Tell it to Wingus and Dingus.
Wingus? Dingus? We're going to give the aliens the old switcheroo.
I found a giant, hideous ape that looks exactly like Leela.
It doesn't look anything like me! The hair's all wrong.
Don't worry. Kif is an expert stylist as you can plainly see.
This might actually work. Omicronians have trouble telling people apart.
True. They thought Kif was the statesman. . .
. . .and l, a jabbering mental patient. Right, Kif?
Please, I'm creating!
Voilà !
-That's Leela! -I'm seeing double!
I grow hungry! Bring on the one called Leela.
-That comes with salad or soup. -Salad.
-Ranch or vinaigrette? -Vinaigrette.
Balsamic or raspberry?
What's going on here?
It's very strange.
People of Earth. . . .
-I get it. -I understand.
Yes, this is the one. Definitely.
I recognize her slumping posture and hairy knuckles.
Would you like some human with your salt?
This is it. If the aliens fall for Zapp's ploy, the Earth will be saved.
Brought to you by Fishy Joe's. Ride the walrus.
Wait! Stop! It's a trick! That's not Leela!
What? I'm losing the crowd!
It's an orangutan, one of Mother Earth's most precious creatures.
Why'd you open your bong hole, you smelly hippie?
You'd sacrifice a beautiful woman for an attractive monkey?
You must have smoked some bad granola.
The one called Smelly Hippie is right! This is a monkey!
Yes. Definitely.
Where is the real female?
-I'll never tell. -Where is she?
I'll get her for you.
This may hurt our chances of consummating our relationship again.
-Go consummate yourself. -Stop talking! You're getting cold!
Please! I just paid off my car!
-No! -I can't look!
People of Earth, I am Jurr of the planet Omicron Persei Eight.
Could you lower this thing for me?
Now then, if Leela gets eaten, I get eaten.
Little one, get out of there! I'm going to count to Blorks!
But elder one--
Hear me out! There are many good reasons to eat!
Hunger, boredom, wanting to be the world's fattest man!
But not revenge. Are we no better than they?
Besides, Leela's my friend.
-She's your friend? -Yeah, I am!
Leela's garbled words have opened my eyes!
Okay, that's a start. It's very earth-friendly.
Now everyone join hands. Join hands, please.
I'd like to lead you all in some swaying. Pay attention.
I said do it!
-Is he your friend too? -No.
This is not happening.
I think there was something funny in that hippie.
Thank you, Jurr. I hope you'll always think of me as your mom.
When my species grows up, we eat our moms.
People of Earth-- That hippie's starting to kick in.
We've all learned an important lesson today. I realize now that--
Dude, my hands are huge!
They can touch anything but themselves.
-Oh, wait-- -Let's go.
Whoa, I feel like I'm flying.
A toast to Leela. She showed us it's wrong to eat certain things.
-Here! -Let's get drunk!
-Thanks, guys. Pass the veal, please? -Here you go.
Let me get some of that suckling pig.
Who wants dolphin?
But dolphins are intelligent.
No, this one blew his money on lottery tickets.
-Good. -Pass the blowhole.
-Fluke, please. -Quit hogging the bottle-nose!
Toss me the speech center of the brain!
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