The Luck of the Fryfish
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- Push, Mrs. Fry. You're almost there. - Squeeze one out for America, honey.
Keep it down, it's the 9th inning.
Here's the 0-2 pitch to Crypool. He's called on a strike three.
Swing the bat, you bum!
- It's a boy with red hair. - You saying my son's a commie?
And Groady leans into the pitch. It hits him. The Mets win.
This is the happiest day of my life.
- Here's your baby. - Okay, thanks.
- What should we name him? - You pick. I picked dinner.
I was thinking of Philip, after those screwdrivers.
That's a fantastic idea. More morphine, please!
- Look, Yancy, it's baby Philip. - I wanna be named Philip.
Me Philip! Me Philip!
Son, your name is Yancy, just like me, and my grandfather and so on.
All the way back to minuteman Yancy Fry...
...who blasted commies in the American Revolution.
Philip, until I find a suitable model of an ICBM...
...you'll have to make do fearing this toy spacecraft.
Mine! Mine!
- Come on! - Baby needs new shoes.
To hell with your baby. I need those shoes.
It's a dead heat. They're checking the electron microscope.
The winner is Number Three in a quantum finish.
No fair! You changed the outcome by measuring it.
- How did you do, Fry? - I'll tell you when my horse finishes.
Bad.
We owned four horses and two jockeys.
We just put a jockey out to stud. He's perfect for you.
Hey, baby, ever do it in a suitcase?
Look, it's a centaur race.
Come on, come on!
Hey, Leela, how about a kiss for good luck?
I meant tongue luck.
The winner is Number Four, Steven.
I've run over black cats that were luckier than me.
Get your hot horse-burgers, horse-fries, horse-cakes and shakes.
- Tongue straight from the horse's mouth. - It all sounds good.
All our horses are 1 00% horse-fed for that double juiced-in goodness.
I'll have a cholesterol-free omelet with horse-beaters.
- How can I horse you, sir? - I'll have a horse Coke.
- Horse Pepsi okay? - Neigh!
- Hey! What are you doing? - This.
Dear Horse God, I don't usually pray. Sometimes I doubt you even exist.
But if you're willing to grant me luck, please, stamp your hoof once.
Come on, Number Six. Move it!
Don't do that. What are you...?
It's contagious.
And the winner is Harry Trotter by the entire racetrack.
That'll teach those horses to take drugs.
That's it! You can only take my money for so long...
...before you take it all. I say, enough!
I've got one dollar left, and this one I'm holding on to.
Oh, no, you don't.
I may not know about horses, but I know lots about doing anything for $ 1.
If you think bad luck can defeat me, you don't know my name is Philip J...
That is one unlucky guy.
Kareem has the sky hook, but Philip J. Fry has the space hook.
Yancy drives, he goes up with his patented space hook.
Hey! That's my patented space hook. You stole it.
You're not the president of it.
Holy camolie! A seven-leaf clover.
I'm dying of old age!
Game over! Phil wins. Yancy's fans are stunned.
There'll be no celebration at the Yancy Dome.
Lucky!
Someone's in a good mode.
Let's say I lucked out at the track. Also I rigged one race.
I'd have won too, if I still had my seven-leaf clover.
Plus, I'd still have my hair.
I got your page, Mr. Fry. Your new hair is ready.
What happened to this clover?
I hid it in a secret place and never told anyone. Not even Scruffy.
- So is it still in the hiding place? - Yeah, maybe it is still there.
In the ruins of Old New York. Helping one ant defeat another.
- Or giving luck to a piece of dirt. - Dirt doesn't need luck.
I'm going to get my clover back!
Some of the tunnels have metal bars. Who's good at bending?
- How about you? - Sure.
- But Bending's my middle name. - It is?
Yep. My full name is Bender Bending Rodriguez.
Here's the entrance. From this moment, I declare my bad luck officially over.
He was fun.
If we get bored looking for the clover, I've got Tetris on this thing.
- Look, up ahead. - Old New York.
The city that inspired a casino in Las Vegas.
We've got Manhattan all to ourselves.
I can finally do the crazy stuff I always dreamed.
Howard Stern is overrated.
- Oops! - New York is so burned.
Remember when Giuliani cracked down on jaywalking?
Well, Rudy, how do you like this action?
The big breakdance battle is Saturday.
If we wanna win Jam Master Jay's parachute pants...
...our crew has to pop, lock and bust the freshest.
Noticeably F.A.T., drop us a beat.
- Name? - Cosmic F.
- Style? - Outer space.
- Special moves? - The moonwalk.
The robot. The zero G.
- Name? - Cosmic Y.
- Style? - Deep Space.
Deep Space?!
- Special moves? - The space-walk.
- The robot. - That's similar to mine.
The zero G.
- You totally ripped off my routine. - You calling me a biter?
Why do you always have to steal everything from me, Yancy?
- Stop illing. Word. - I'd like to see you steal this:
The septuple head-spin!
He's just scratching. No one's done more than a quadruple.
Oh, yeah? Noticeably F.A.T., rewind the tape.
Crazy sucker.
- Phil, you're hot. - That was ice-cold, bro.
Fry, if I ever see you try anything that crazy again...
...this crew might just have some new parachute pants.
Stop hogging the clover.
- Let's go find that clover. - Which way to your house?
- The sign says we're at 71 st Street. - 71 st Street? Never heard of it.
- Downtown could be in any direction. - We'll just take a spin on the B-train.
That feels funny!
This is the Brooklyn-bound B-train, stopping wherever I feel like.
Watch for the closing doors.
Wake up, buddy. End of the line.
My old neighborhood.
That's the bench where I found shirts. We used to light that hydrant on fire!
On that corner, some guy handed out a socialist newsletter.
- Was it poorly xeroxed? - Oh, yeah.
The comedians were right. This is different from L.A.
- Did you say you used to live here? - That's right.
- Did you know Andy Goldman? - He was my neighbor. Why?
- I mutated from him. - What's he up to these days?
I'm teaching.
- He seemed nice. - Sure, when he's sober.
Holy camolie! The house I grew up in, it's still there!
Man, Father Time really took a bat to this place.
That stupid clover is a worthless piece of garbage. Give it!
Mom, help!
Yes!
- Yancy's trying to steal my clover. - Yancy, stealing is wrong.
I'm gonna pile drive you. You're dead meat!
What's happening? Did Kremlin Joe let fly with the nukes?
Not yet, commander. Yancy's trying to steal my stuff.
He better keep his hands off these bananas.
Gonna need them when the radiation turns us all into monkeys.
The Ronco Record Vault. Yancy will never get his hands on you in here.
The Breakfast Club soundtrack.
I can't wait until I'm old enough to feel ways about stuff.
Stay safe, clover. I may need you again someday.
My dad spent years turning this into a bomb shelter.
- Yet there was no nuclear war. - What a waste.
This is it. My Ronco Record Vault.
I still remember the combination.
Three.
It's stuck.
The Achilles' heel of the Ronco design is its structural resonance frequency.
There we go.
- Here's The Breakfast Club soundtrack. - You mean breakfast club sandwich?
I hid my clover in the jacket so my brother, Yancy, wouldn't get it.
Here goes.
It's gone! The whole place has been cleaned out.
- Yancy stole my clover. - How do you know it didn't disintegrate?
- Everything else held up okay. - Except Sports, by Huey Lewis.
- My brother hated me so much. - Brothers always fight.
He just never got a chance to say he loved you before you got frozen.
You think? Because I always kind of wished that...
- Who is that godlike figure? - It's my brother, Yancy.
And there's my seven-leaf clover. I knew he stole it.
If that's Yancy, why does the inscription say Philip J. Fry?
Wait a second. That's my name.
Good Lord! He ditched his goofy name and stole mine.
Apparently, this brave adonis, this Cadillac of men...
...was the "first person on Mars." - First person on Mars?!
That should've been me!
He stole my clover, he stole my name and he stole my life.
- And now he broke my hand. - His legend lives on.
You opened the vault, and the clover was gone?
Nothing in there but the best music of the 1 980s.
Survivor, Pat Benatar, The Scorpions. The list goes on.
My brother stole my dream of going into space.
- Now I'll never get there. - You went this morning.
"First person on Mars." So your brother was that Philip J. Fry.
- I'm Philip J. Fry! He stole my name. - Shut up, friends.
My browser heard the word "Fry" and found the Philip J. Fry movie.
It also opened my calendar to Friday and ordered some french fries.
Philip J. Fry, astronaut, philanthropist, entrepreneur...
... was a great man, truly worthy of narration.
Fry was the first man on Mars, a feat never equaled.
It should've been me!
The ever-lucky Fry made his fortune by striking oil...
... in the mansion he had won in a lottery.
That's my clover. He stole it!
After a fling with Icelandic supermodel, Njord...
... Fry scored many hits with his band, Leaf Seven...
... known for their hypnotic rhythms and memorable hooks.
I'm known for that!
Phil came and strummed out this tune. And I said that's a number-one record.
Fry now spends most of his time in his grave at Orbiting Meadows Cemetery...
... buried with his trademark clover to bring him luck in the next life.
That's where my clover is. Is that cemetery near here?
- It will be in a couple of hours. - Good, we're going grave robbing.
I'll get my kit.
Your tux will be perfect for my wedding, Dad.
Yancy, that tux got me through Nam in style.
- I wish your bother could see this. - I remember the day he disappeared.
Wisconsin won the Rose Bowl 1 7-9. Oh, I miss him.
I was gonna rummage through Phil's records to play at the wedding.
He may be missing, but his crap sure isn't.
Breakfast Club. This will clear the room after the reception.
He's buried in the world heroes section? I'm impressed.
I should be the one in that grave!
We lost Bender.
Now no one will be able to say I don't own John Larroquette's spine.
Aha! My brother's grave!
"Philip Fry, the original Martian."
It's all lies. He wasn't original. He wasn't a Martian.
- He wasn't Philip. He wasn't a "the." - You're twice the "the" he ever was.
It's clovering time.
- So, had any ideas for names, Yancy? - I'm sort of thinking one.
Daddy has a present for you. Know what it is? It's a lucky clover...
...to help you be successful, even at breakdancing.
It belonged to someone very special.
I know what name you want to give him. It's okay.
Really? Son, I'm naming you Philip J. Fry...
...in honor of my little brother, who I miss every day.
I love you, Philip. And I always will.
"Here lies Philip J. Fry, named for his uncle...
...to carry on his spirit."
Pay dirt! I got the clover, plus his wedding ring. Sorry, ladies, I'm taken.
Hey, Fry, you want me to smack the corpse up a little?
Bender, I think Fry needs a moment alone.
Okay, grab a shovel. I'm one skull short of a Mouseketeer reunion.
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