Émission TV: Futurama - 7x12
Crew on deck.
How was the delivery to Tokyo?
Not bad.
Mothzilla got into the ship's closet, though.
Can we please get new uniforms now, Professor?
You said you would replace them a year ago.
You can't expect me to honor what Year-Ago Professor said.
That guy was young and foolish.
There's nothing wrong with these uniforms that a few denim patches won't fix.
Oh, all right.
To the garment district!
Come in, come in.
Can I offer you maybe a nice macaroon cut in seven pieces?
Such a stereotype.
Yes, I'm looking for something in a space uniform that's respectfully humiliating but can come out of an employee's salary without his noticing.
You got it.
Tomorrow's clothes at yesterday's prices.
Ah.
You can't go wrong with a still suit.
lt recycles your solid waste into a nice piece gefilte fish.
Ugh.
ls there a way to just keep it as solid waste?
Now here's something we can all agree on.
The Stardoz 2293.
Not for everybody, but you pull it off.
Please don't pull it off.
Yo, Squidward Scissorhands, you got this in an adult robot medium?
The foxhunting uniform?
You, sir, must be a robot of noble bearings.
Well, I am descended from Prince Albert's can.
I think we've seen enough.
Too much, actually.
Come on, let's try somewhere else.
Wait, wait, perhaps discerning customers like yourselves would be interested in an item from our discount rack.
Quality is the most important thing.
How much is it?
90% off.
An unpleasant fellow ordered them last year but never paid.
Most unpleasant, that one.
That sounds like something Year-Ago Professor would do.
We'll take them.
Finally, a uniform I'd be happy to be caught dead in.
And, boy, does it wick away moisture, gallons and gallons of it.
Plus, they're stitched in such a way that, no matter what angle it's viewed from, it looks like you're standing in hero wind.
I just wish my fists weren't sewn to my belt.
Hey, what's Bender wearing instead of that crap?
Oh, Lord.
Did you actually buy that getup?
We foxhunters do not stoop to buy getups.
I made free with it.
Since when do you care or even know about foxhunting?
Foxhunting is an ancient and noble pursuit that's fascinated me ever since I first heard of it 1 0 minutes ago.
Noble pursuit?
What's noble about killing a defenseless animal?
Don't be naive, Leela.
We kill defenseless animals all the time.
Look at Hermes's tortoiseshell glasses.
The Professor's walrus-ivory teeth.
And don't forget the zebra-fur ship cozy.
Yeah, I guess you're right.
He's got a point.
See, Leela, there are two sides to every shameful act.
What you call the atrocity of crazed dogs tearing a helpless fox to shreds, others call a pleasant jaunt in the park.
The first thing.
Come see for yourself.
Join me on the morrow as I embark on my maiden hunt.
I said join me!
This is my best protest sign ever, and it was easy because I started with a "save the ox" sign I already had.
Wow, where'd you get the horse?
None of your business.
Young man, one does not drink from a champagne fountain in that manner.
But he's doing it.
Check out this dork.
I, sir, am the master of the hunt, and I'll thank you to behave like a gentleman.
You're quite welcome, sir.
Ah, yes, foxhunting.
If there's one thing I know, it's everything about it.
What's that weird cat?
This is the fox we'll be hunting today.
Wow, this is easier than I thought.
The sport is in the chase, sir.
The fox gets a 30-minute head start.
Man, it would have been so much easier to kill it in the cage.
Let the hunt begin.
Stop, this is cruel and inhumane.
Well, now, in all my years as a hunt master, I've never seen anything like this.
I mean, look at that sign.
It's magnificent.
Oh !
Thank you.
I used a ruler and I erased all the pencil lines when I was finished.
Charming.
Now, into the ditch with you.
So the dogs do all the work while we sportsmen enjoy a nice horsey ride?
Precisely.
I see you've caught the fever.
Keep your wits about you.
I've blanketed these woods with devious traps to ward off poachers and protesters.
Stop the bloodshed, stop the violence.
Ha!
I saw that coming from a mile.
.
.
Be more careful, friend.
My antigravity snares are virtually undetectable.
I saw it coming from a mile.
.
.
View halloo, view halloo.
View halloo?
All right.
What does that mean?
The fox has been sighted.
Yeah, get that fox.
Go, dogs, go.
Either way.
Oh, God, this is horrible.
I can't watch.
Pfft.
You humans always say you don't want to see violence, but you know you do.
I defy you not to watch.
A robot fox?
Huh.
I guess I'm okay with this after all.
Well, I'm not.
Robot foxhunting is a crime against robo-nature.
Stop the bloodshed, stop the.
.
.
How can you do this to a poor, defenseless robot animal?
You people are sick, and you foxhounds are no better.
They're not foxhounds.
They're springer spaniels, you twit.
Or rather spring-powered spaniels.
Bot-on-bot violence?
Where will it end?
Not with the dogs.
Come here, Sea Gasket.
No!
You, sir, are a heartless monster, and you will rue the day you met me.
Also, can I get my parking validated?
The time has come to end injustice against robot animals.
No dog track rabbit should be used to test cosmetics, no robot cow should have to be milked by a milking machine, and no milking machine should have to milk a robot cow.
Those injustices don't even exist.
Then let's find some that do.
Robot chickens weren't made to be jammed in cubicles and forced to lay eggs.
Actually, they was.
I'll save you.
Run free, sweet robo-hen.
Enough with the tenderizing.
It's time for a Benderizing.
Hey, you people can't just burst in like that and cut off my hand.
You got to take a number.
Shooting innocent robot ducks is wrong.
Fly away.
Fly away, my pretties.
You did it!
Congratulations, Bender, you've ended robot animal cruelty within a 20-yard radius of this building.
You ready to call it a day, or do you have one more score to settle?
The second thing.
The weekly hunt is hereby called to order.
I'll drink some more to that.
As always, once I release the fox, it will have a 30-minute head start before.
.
.
Stop the hunt.
You again.
I'm back, snooty.
We're here to liberate that robot fox, and that's what we're gonna do.
Do you mind showing me how to open the cage?
Now, listen here, the hunt is a hallowed tradition, and you Bambi-loving beatniks will never stop it.
Oh, no?
Well, for your information, the robot fox has been declared an endangered robo-species.
This injunction suspends all robot foxhunting for 24 hours while our motion is under consideration.
We'll see you in court.
Motion destroyed.
The hunt shall resume at sunup.
He's crooked, but fair.
I'm not giving up yet.
I am.
I already did.
You can count on me.
Now, here's the plan.
We're going to sneak onto the grounds and free that fox.
Can we stop for ice cream on the way back?
All right, fine.
And on the way there?
Okay, I'll hold the ice cream while you two go over.
Where's the ice cream?
There was a bear.
Okay.
You guys take him back to Planet Express.
I've got one more shenanigan up my sleeve.
But you promised us way-back ice cream.
Here.
But no chocolate, it's bedtime.
With that odious robot barred from the grounds, the weekly hunt is hereby called once more to order.
Let the hunt begin.
You, sir, have been outfoxed.
I spent all night on that.
It's clever.
Nevertheless, I demand you return my fox.
Sorry, mutton-chump.
No fox, no hunt.
Oh, really?
Let the hunt begin !
Sir, I leave you with this one final thought.
Oh, God, they're gonna kill me, el roboto mas importante.
And I only have a 30-minute head start.
Uh-oh, a fork in the path.
There's more places to hide in that dark forest.
On the other hand, I could run faster through that open meadow.
But of course, the forest might protect my fair robot skin from sunburn.
Hmm.
.
.
Today, we hunt the most dangerous game, aside from lawn darts, a cunning robotic adversary so deviously clever that.
.
.
For God's sake.
Then again, a nice run through a meadow, who could say no to that?
What?
Look here.
Hunting is a team effort, and you're not pulling your weight.
Now, I'm going to be sporting and give you one more chance to run.
Thanks.
Nothing's more important than sportsmanship.
It's so cute.
Horseshoe crab cute.
Fox news, everyone.
I've decided to make the fox our new corporate mascot.
Hear, hear.
Let's put on our new uniforms and take a staff photo for the newsletter.
Right on !
Here they are, freshly laundered and.
.
.
Our magnificent uniforms.
They're ruined.
And he peed on the locker room floor.
That's my territory.
Also got in the henhouse and killed Amy's prize-winning Rhode Island Red.
Not Penelope.
Cute or not, I'll kill that robo-rat.
Let me at it.
I'm gonna pound it with this chewed-up old stick.
No!
It's just a poor, scared wild robot.
What did you expect?
My sign.
It's ruined.
Kill the fox.
Missed it by that much.
Oh, no, they caught my scent.
I better throw them off by rubbing myself with something.
That's no good.
Wait, I know what'll confuse those dogs.
Catnip.
You have made yourself an enemy, my friend !
Dang it.
He jumped on the PATH train to New Jersey.
Of course.
He's commuting back to his native habitat.
On top of everything, I'm starving.
I'll have to carve a sandwich out of this tree branch.
Ow!
My finger.
I wish I remembered more survival skills from Boy Scouts.
Too bad my only merit badge was in interpretive dance.
Wait.
I can use the universal language of dance to signal for help.
Ow!
That was my second-favorite ankle.
Was that a horn?
Are those the dogs?
ls that two caterpillars making sweet love?
Aw...
You know what it's like to feel hunted, too, buddy?
Would it be too much to ask you to stay with me in my final moments and die at my side?
And you die first?
You lousy son of a.
.
.
I get it.
You freed me.
You lousy son of a.
.
.
We're hot on his heels.
A-ha!
One of his heels.
Oh.
.
.
These guys.
Can I help you?
Out of our way.
This fox is ours.
Fox?
Yes.
Have at it.
We're not hunting fox today.
Wait a second.
What are you hunting?
Oh, my God.
It's Bender's middle finger.
I'd recognize this anywhere.
What is it, little buddy?
ls it a layer cake?
Or maybe World Series tickets?
A trip wire.
But who's tripping who?
Wait, whom.
Who's tripping whom?
I guess what I've been trying to say is we should all be ashamed.
Me for my hatred of a mechanical fox that tore up my sign and who I'd like to throttle, and you for hunting an innocent robot.
Well, a robot who didn't harm you personally.
Today.
Probably.
But most of all, I blame you, hunt master.
Where's the hunt master?
Remember when you said "nobody leave" and then you turned your head briefly?
He left an hour before that.
You disappoint me, Bender.
I'd have thought you'd have learned to avoid my antigravity snares by now.
I did.
Too bad you didn't.
Ye gods!
How does it feel to be the hunted?
To be forever looking over your shoulder, like an owl with that type of neck?
To die in agony at the hands of the world's greatest lover?
No!
Please!
I can't shoot you.
Bender, I found your trigger finger.
Now I can.
But I won't.
Not with so many witnesses.
You're a true gentleman.
Unlike me.
I can't watch.
.
.
Enough.
Oh, no!
Hey, wait a minute.
He was also a robot?
Dude!
So a robot fox killed a robot human?
I guess that makes it okay.
No.
Killing of any kind is.
.
.
I don't know, well.
.
.
Let me think about this.
I guess it's okay.
How was the delivery to Tokyo?
Not bad.
Mothzilla got into the ship's closet, though.
Can we please get new uniforms now, Professor?
You said you would replace them a year ago.
You can't expect me to honor what Year-Ago Professor said.
That guy was young and foolish.
There's nothing wrong with these uniforms that a few denim patches won't fix.
Oh, all right.
To the garment district!
Come in, come in.
Can I offer you maybe a nice macaroon cut in seven pieces?
Such a stereotype.
Yes, I'm looking for something in a space uniform that's respectfully humiliating but can come out of an employee's salary without his noticing.
You got it.
Tomorrow's clothes at yesterday's prices.
Ah.
You can't go wrong with a still suit.
lt recycles your solid waste into a nice piece gefilte fish.
Ugh.
ls there a way to just keep it as solid waste?
Now here's something we can all agree on.
The Stardoz 2293.
Not for everybody, but you pull it off.
Please don't pull it off.
Yo, Squidward Scissorhands, you got this in an adult robot medium?
The foxhunting uniform?
You, sir, must be a robot of noble bearings.
Well, I am descended from Prince Albert's can.
I think we've seen enough.
Too much, actually.
Come on, let's try somewhere else.
Wait, wait, perhaps discerning customers like yourselves would be interested in an item from our discount rack.
Quality is the most important thing.
How much is it?
90% off.
An unpleasant fellow ordered them last year but never paid.
Most unpleasant, that one.
That sounds like something Year-Ago Professor would do.
We'll take them.
Finally, a uniform I'd be happy to be caught dead in.
And, boy, does it wick away moisture, gallons and gallons of it.
Plus, they're stitched in such a way that, no matter what angle it's viewed from, it looks like you're standing in hero wind.
I just wish my fists weren't sewn to my belt.
Hey, what's Bender wearing instead of that crap?
Oh, Lord.
Did you actually buy that getup?
We foxhunters do not stoop to buy getups.
I made free with it.
Since when do you care or even know about foxhunting?
Foxhunting is an ancient and noble pursuit that's fascinated me ever since I first heard of it 1 0 minutes ago.
Noble pursuit?
What's noble about killing a defenseless animal?
Don't be naive, Leela.
We kill defenseless animals all the time.
Look at Hermes's tortoiseshell glasses.
The Professor's walrus-ivory teeth.
And don't forget the zebra-fur ship cozy.
Yeah, I guess you're right.
He's got a point.
See, Leela, there are two sides to every shameful act.
What you call the atrocity of crazed dogs tearing a helpless fox to shreds, others call a pleasant jaunt in the park.
The first thing.
Come see for yourself.
Join me on the morrow as I embark on my maiden hunt.
I said join me!
This is my best protest sign ever, and it was easy because I started with a "save the ox" sign I already had.
Wow, where'd you get the horse?
None of your business.
Young man, one does not drink from a champagne fountain in that manner.
But he's doing it.
Check out this dork.
I, sir, am the master of the hunt, and I'll thank you to behave like a gentleman.
You're quite welcome, sir.
Ah, yes, foxhunting.
If there's one thing I know, it's everything about it.
What's that weird cat?
This is the fox we'll be hunting today.
Wow, this is easier than I thought.
The sport is in the chase, sir.
The fox gets a 30-minute head start.
Man, it would have been so much easier to kill it in the cage.
Let the hunt begin.
Stop, this is cruel and inhumane.
Well, now, in all my years as a hunt master, I've never seen anything like this.
I mean, look at that sign.
It's magnificent.
Oh !
Thank you.
I used a ruler and I erased all the pencil lines when I was finished.
Charming.
Now, into the ditch with you.
So the dogs do all the work while we sportsmen enjoy a nice horsey ride?
Precisely.
I see you've caught the fever.
Keep your wits about you.
I've blanketed these woods with devious traps to ward off poachers and protesters.
Stop the bloodshed, stop the violence.
Ha!
I saw that coming from a mile.
.
.
Be more careful, friend.
My antigravity snares are virtually undetectable.
I saw it coming from a mile.
.
.
View halloo, view halloo.
View halloo?
All right.
What does that mean?
The fox has been sighted.
Yeah, get that fox.
Go, dogs, go.
Either way.
Oh, God, this is horrible.
I can't watch.
Pfft.
You humans always say you don't want to see violence, but you know you do.
I defy you not to watch.
A robot fox?
Huh.
I guess I'm okay with this after all.
Well, I'm not.
Robot foxhunting is a crime against robo-nature.
Stop the bloodshed, stop the.
.
.
How can you do this to a poor, defenseless robot animal?
You people are sick, and you foxhounds are no better.
They're not foxhounds.
They're springer spaniels, you twit.
Or rather spring-powered spaniels.
Bot-on-bot violence?
Where will it end?
Not with the dogs.
Come here, Sea Gasket.
No!
You, sir, are a heartless monster, and you will rue the day you met me.
Also, can I get my parking validated?
The time has come to end injustice against robot animals.
No dog track rabbit should be used to test cosmetics, no robot cow should have to be milked by a milking machine, and no milking machine should have to milk a robot cow.
Those injustices don't even exist.
Then let's find some that do.
Robot chickens weren't made to be jammed in cubicles and forced to lay eggs.
Actually, they was.
I'll save you.
Run free, sweet robo-hen.
Enough with the tenderizing.
It's time for a Benderizing.
Hey, you people can't just burst in like that and cut off my hand.
You got to take a number.
Shooting innocent robot ducks is wrong.
Fly away.
Fly away, my pretties.
You did it!
Congratulations, Bender, you've ended robot animal cruelty within a 20-yard radius of this building.
You ready to call it a day, or do you have one more score to settle?
The second thing.
The weekly hunt is hereby called to order.
I'll drink some more to that.
As always, once I release the fox, it will have a 30-minute head start before.
.
.
Stop the hunt.
You again.
I'm back, snooty.
We're here to liberate that robot fox, and that's what we're gonna do.
Do you mind showing me how to open the cage?
Now, listen here, the hunt is a hallowed tradition, and you Bambi-loving beatniks will never stop it.
Oh, no?
Well, for your information, the robot fox has been declared an endangered robo-species.
This injunction suspends all robot foxhunting for 24 hours while our motion is under consideration.
We'll see you in court.
Motion destroyed.
The hunt shall resume at sunup.
He's crooked, but fair.
I'm not giving up yet.
I am.
I already did.
You can count on me.
Now, here's the plan.
We're going to sneak onto the grounds and free that fox.
Can we stop for ice cream on the way back?
All right, fine.
And on the way there?
Okay, I'll hold the ice cream while you two go over.
Where's the ice cream?
There was a bear.
Okay.
You guys take him back to Planet Express.
I've got one more shenanigan up my sleeve.
But you promised us way-back ice cream.
Here.
But no chocolate, it's bedtime.
With that odious robot barred from the grounds, the weekly hunt is hereby called once more to order.
Let the hunt begin.
You, sir, have been outfoxed.
I spent all night on that.
It's clever.
Nevertheless, I demand you return my fox.
Sorry, mutton-chump.
No fox, no hunt.
Oh, really?
Let the hunt begin !
Sir, I leave you with this one final thought.
Oh, God, they're gonna kill me, el roboto mas importante.
And I only have a 30-minute head start.
Uh-oh, a fork in the path.
There's more places to hide in that dark forest.
On the other hand, I could run faster through that open meadow.
But of course, the forest might protect my fair robot skin from sunburn.
Hmm.
.
.
Today, we hunt the most dangerous game, aside from lawn darts, a cunning robotic adversary so deviously clever that.
.
.
For God's sake.
Then again, a nice run through a meadow, who could say no to that?
What?
Look here.
Hunting is a team effort, and you're not pulling your weight.
Now, I'm going to be sporting and give you one more chance to run.
Thanks.
Nothing's more important than sportsmanship.
It's so cute.
Horseshoe crab cute.
Fox news, everyone.
I've decided to make the fox our new corporate mascot.
Hear, hear.
Let's put on our new uniforms and take a staff photo for the newsletter.
Right on !
Here they are, freshly laundered and.
.
.
Our magnificent uniforms.
They're ruined.
And he peed on the locker room floor.
That's my territory.
Also got in the henhouse and killed Amy's prize-winning Rhode Island Red.
Not Penelope.
Cute or not, I'll kill that robo-rat.
Let me at it.
I'm gonna pound it with this chewed-up old stick.
No!
It's just a poor, scared wild robot.
What did you expect?
My sign.
It's ruined.
Kill the fox.
Missed it by that much.
Oh, no, they caught my scent.
I better throw them off by rubbing myself with something.
That's no good.
Wait, I know what'll confuse those dogs.
Catnip.
You have made yourself an enemy, my friend !
Dang it.
He jumped on the PATH train to New Jersey.
Of course.
He's commuting back to his native habitat.
On top of everything, I'm starving.
I'll have to carve a sandwich out of this tree branch.
Ow!
My finger.
I wish I remembered more survival skills from Boy Scouts.
Too bad my only merit badge was in interpretive dance.
Wait.
I can use the universal language of dance to signal for help.
Ow!
That was my second-favorite ankle.
Was that a horn?
Are those the dogs?
ls that two caterpillars making sweet love?
Aw...
You know what it's like to feel hunted, too, buddy?
Would it be too much to ask you to stay with me in my final moments and die at my side?
And you die first?
You lousy son of a.
.
.
I get it.
You freed me.
You lousy son of a.
.
.
We're hot on his heels.
A-ha!
One of his heels.
Oh.
.
.
These guys.
Can I help you?
Out of our way.
This fox is ours.
Fox?
Yes.
Have at it.
We're not hunting fox today.
Wait a second.
What are you hunting?
Oh, my God.
It's Bender's middle finger.
I'd recognize this anywhere.
What is it, little buddy?
ls it a layer cake?
Or maybe World Series tickets?
A trip wire.
But who's tripping who?
Wait, whom.
Who's tripping whom?
I guess what I've been trying to say is we should all be ashamed.
Me for my hatred of a mechanical fox that tore up my sign and who I'd like to throttle, and you for hunting an innocent robot.
Well, a robot who didn't harm you personally.
Today.
Probably.
But most of all, I blame you, hunt master.
Where's the hunt master?
Remember when you said "nobody leave" and then you turned your head briefly?
He left an hour before that.
You disappoint me, Bender.
I'd have thought you'd have learned to avoid my antigravity snares by now.
I did.
Too bad you didn't.
Ye gods!
How does it feel to be the hunted?
To be forever looking over your shoulder, like an owl with that type of neck?
To die in agony at the hands of the world's greatest lover?
No!
Please!
I can't shoot you.
Bender, I found your trigger finger.
Now I can.
But I won't.
Not with so many witnesses.
You're a true gentleman.
Unlike me.
I can't watch.
.
.
Enough.
Oh, no!
Hey, wait a minute.
He was also a robot?
Dude!
So a robot fox killed a robot human?
I guess that makes it okay.
No.
Killing of any kind is.
.
.
I don't know, well.
.
.
Let me think about this.
I guess it's okay.