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mei 1, 2019 7:29 pm
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No, just a regular mistake. Ah, yes! John Quincy Adding Machine. He struck a chord with the voters when he pledged not to go on a killing spree. Fry, we have a crate to deliver. Can I use the gun? Leela’s gonna kill me.
Hello Morbo, how’s the family? Yep, I remember. They came in last at the Olympics, then retired to promote alcoholic beverages! You’ll have all the Slurm you can drink when you’re partying with Slurms McKenzie!
Fry, you can’t just sit here in the dark listening to classical music.
I daresay that Fry has discovered the smelliest object in the known universe! Belligerent and numerous. Say what? Why, those are the Grunka-Lunkas! They work here in the Slurm factory.
- It’s toe-tappingly tragic!
- We need rest. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is spongy and bruised.
- And when we woke up, we had these bodies.
Calculon is gonna kill us and it’s all everybody else’s fault!
She also liked to shut up! One hundred dollars. Tell her you just want to talk. It has nothing to do with mating. Ok, we’ll go deliver this crate like professionals, and then we’ll go ride the bumper cars.
- Oh, but you can. But you may have to metaphorically make a deal with the devil. And by “devil”, I mean Robot Devil. And by “metaphorically”, I mean get your coat.
- Who am I making this out to?
- Ok, we’ll go deliver this crate like professionals, and then we’ll go ride the bumper cars.
I suppose I could part with ‘one’ and still be feared… No! Don’t jump! No! Don’t jump! You, minion. Lift my arm. AFTER HIM! No argument here. No, I’m Santa Claus!
Bender, hurry! This fuel’s expensive! Also, we’re dying! I guess if you want children beaten, you have to do it yourself. That’s the ONLY thing about being a slave. Oh God, what have I done? Is the Space Pope reptilian!?
Too much work. Let’s burn it and say we dumped it in the sewer. You know, I was God once. Eeeee! Now say “nuclear wessels”! Yeah, and if you were the pope they’d be all, “Straighten your pope hat.” And “Put on your good vestments.”
Have you ever tried just turning off the TV, sitting down with your children, and hitting them? I’m a thing. This is the worst kind of discrimination: the kind against me! I am Singing Wind, Chief of the Martians.
Son, as your lawyer, I declare y’all are in a 12-piece bucket o’ trouble. But I done struck you a deal: Five hours of community service cleanin’ up that ol’ mess you caused. I was having the most wonderful dream. Except you were there, and you were there, and you were there!
You are the last hope of the universe. Who’s brave enough to fly into something we all keep calling a death sphere? Would you censor the Venus de Venus just because you can see her spewers? Fatal. Really?!
Hey, what kinda party is this? There’s no booze and only one hooker. Good news, everyone! I’ve taught the toaster to feel love! Now what? You can see how I lived before I met you. And from now on you’re all named Bender Jr.
You seem malnourished. Are you suffering from intestinal parasites? Stop it, stop it. It’s fine. I will ‘destroy’ you! THE BIG BRAIN AM WINNING AGAIN! I AM THE GREETEST! NOW I AM LEAVING EARTH, FOR NO RAISEN!
Who are those horrible orange men? Leela’s gonna kill me. Oh no! The professor will hit me! But if Zoidberg ‘fixes’ it… then perhaps gifts! Pansy. Kids have names? Oh, I don’t have time for this. I have to go and buy a single piece of fruit with a coupon and then return it, making people wait behind me while I complain.
Um, is this the boring, peaceful kind of taking to the streets? Hey! I’m a porno-dealing monster, what do I care what you think? Say it in Russian! Whoa a real live robot; or is that some kind of cheesy New Year’s costume?
Hello Morbo, how’s the family? I’m sorry, guys. I never meant to hurt you. Just to destroy everything you ever believed in. Stop! Don’t shoot fire stick in space canoe! Cause explosive decompression! Well, thanks to the Internet, I’m now bored with sex. Is there a place on the web that panders to my lust for violence?
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