06x16 - Law and Oracle

[bunniefuu]

After centuries as a delivery
boy, nothing surprises me.

You stink, loser.

Hey, Fry!

Pizza going out!
Come on!

All right.
I'll take the Red Rocket.

Hello! Pizza delivery
for D. Frosted Wang.

Not another crank delivery!

Why don't I read these things
ahead of time?

One time was funny.

But every week for 10 years?
Not as funny.

True, not as funny.
But, still, somewhat funny.

And then they burst out
laughing a second time.

I've been a delivery boy
for a thousand years.

Isn't there any room
for promotion around here?

There'll be no promotions
unless somebody dies.

And even then,

only if we can't bring them
back as a zombie, like Scruffy.

Life and death are
a seamless continuum.

Well, could I at least
get some encouragement?

I could use
a sh*t in the arm.

I got sh*t in the leg!

Roberto! What are you doing here?

What? A fella can't
drop in on old friends

and hold them hostage?

I'm good. And you?

Attention, criminal robot
in the building!

Come out with your hands up!

Never!

Other guy.

Listen up, piggies,
I want a hovercopter,

and an unmarked sandwich,

and a new face with,
like, a Hugh Grant look.

And every five minutes
I don't get it,

someone's going to
get stabbed in the ass!

He's bluffing.

Ouch! He's not bluffing!

You call
for a chopper?

No, I specifically
said hovercopter!

One chopper coming up.

Hiya!

All right! Way to go.

You know, URL,

sometimes it's almost too much for me.

You mean,
the respect we get?

And the high level
of job satisfaction?

There's that,
but I'm also talking about

the non-stop promotions
and the free hot rod.

I do love
a man in uniform.

I mean, a uniform that
doesn't involve short pants.

I can see I have
no future here.

My only option is to
resign with dignity.

Here are my shorts.

Hello. I'd like to enroll
in Police Academy.

You think you can
just waltz in here

with no pants
and become a cop?

That's the plan.

I like you, kid.

I got no pants on, either.

I can see that. You're
quite a bit taller than me.

Welcome to
Police Academy.

Hi, I'm Fry.

I'm the Sound Effects 5000.

Wow. That would be impressive
if you were a human.

Yeah.

On your feet
for Chief O'Manahan.

At ease, cadets.

I'll make this
short and sweet,

'cause I'm PMSing
like a lumberjack.

Police Academy
is not for everybody.

You're gonna get
your boob scuffed.

But if you've got
the vulva to stick it out,

I'll be proud to call
you ladies "policemen."

Sir! Yes, ma'am!

Yeah. That's great.

Now, can you actually
turn on the ignition?

I don't have any hands.

Well,
it's that time of the month.

Graduation day.

So grow a pair and put them
together for our new officers!

Hooray for the pigs!

Graduates, you are
hereby officially cops.

Now move it along,
nothing to see here.

Hooray!
Free sky sticks!

Police brutality!

Nice. All right.

Before we head out, I'll be
teaming up our new officers

with their
ironically matched partners.

Sound Effects 5000,

you'll be with Cranski.

My tinnitus!

Fry, due to the unfortunate
loss of Officer Smith,

you'll be riding with URL.

And Smitty was just a
few days from retirement.

What happened?

He took a early retirement.
Damn.

Let's get down
to business.

Aren't you going to say,
"Good news, everyone"?

I just said that
for Fry's benefit.

Made the poor fellow feel
better about his pointless job.

As much as I miss him,

he didn't really serve
much purpose around here.

Though he did walk
Zoidberg.

In any case,
I've improved on Fry

by sticking some
wheels on a board,

so Leela and Bender can easily
make the next delivery without him.

Neat. So, where we going?

Pandora.

That dangerous
3D planet?

Can't we just
send our avatars?

No, it's cheaper
just to have you die.

Whoa!

Fifteen miles over
the speed of light.

That's a violation of the law
of Lorentz invariance, baby.

Light 'em up.

Look out for that
particular individual!

An electric wall, eh?

I can't see
the harm in peeing on that.

Whoa!
Where'd my man learn that?

Sunny D commercial.

Let's refract
this sucker.

DNA and
career chip, please.

Erwin Schrödinger, huh?

What's in the box,
Schrödinger?

A cat, some poison
and a cesium atom.

The cat,
is it allve or dead?

Alive or dead?

Answer him, fool.

It's a superposition
of both states

until you open it and
collapse the wave function.

Says you.

There's also a lot
of dr*gs in there.

So, you're a robot?

You boys did good.

Nailed a major violator
of the laws of physics.

He's going down.
Cat's gonna testify.

Guys like this
really bust my uterus.

You're both
getting a promotion.

Ever heard of
the Future Crimes Division?

Tomorrow, I have.

Oops.

I can't make out a thing.

Well, I guess you should
have had two eyes.

Just deliver the package,
and let's get out of here.

Screw that! I ain't no delivery boy.

I'm the company chef.

You're the chef, are you?

Then why don't you make us
something nice to eat?

Here's your damn peanut
butter and jelly sandwich!

Now that we can predict crimes
with 99% accuracy,

we can arrest
most perpetrators

before they even
perpetrate anything.

That's ridiculous. Only
horoscopes can predict the future.

That's what we used to think.

Until we invented this.

Slow down, baby.

The Cybernetic Oracle. The
ultimate man-machine hybrid.

Programmed with
every crime ever recorded,

and implanted
with the brain cells

of history's
greatest detectives.

We call him Pickles.

On account of it's like
he's floating in a jar?

Exactly.

The Oracle's visions are
recorded on these colored balls.

Green is larceny.
Black is fraud.

Red, homicide.

What's pink polka-dots?

Clown slaughter.

It happens more often
than you'd think.

Floater in the bowl!

Red ball. Homicide!

Woo!

Suspect, male, 6'1".

Distinctive mustard stain
on his forehead.

My kajigger!

Victim, Hattie McDoogal.

Look, the clock says 5:08.

It's 4:30 right now.

Uh-oh. We only have a half hour
to chill out before we head over.

Oh, Hattie.

When I look into your one good
eye, I see a reflection of beauty.

Fresh.

Freeze, fool.

You're under arrest
for future m*rder!

Yeah?

You can't arrest me for future
m*rder after it's right now m*rder!

My kajigger!

So, he didn't
really want to marry me?

No. See, he knew you left
everything to your parakeets

in your will.

He was going to m*rder you,
marry your parakeets,

and then poison them with
an arsenic-laced cuttlebone.

Classic move.
Aw, yeah.

Congratulations
on your big bust.

You, too.

Keep it up, and you boys
might just make detective.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I got to go
drop a big one.

Wow.
I can't believe it.

One more promotion,
and I'll be a real detective,

like Sherlock Holmes
or Speed Buggy.

Eight pounds.
I'm naming her Burt.

Mazel tov, Chief. That's
a beautiful bathroom baby.

Ain't you
heading home, Phil?

In a minute. I just want to
finish this paperless work.

Don't stay up too late.

We got a lot of people
to sh**t tomorrow.

Hello! Anyone?

There's never a cop around
when you need one.

Green ball. Larceny.

The thief seems to be
some sort of ghost.

Or is he?

Bender?

Item seven,
our corporate tax rate

remained unchanged
this fiscal year.

That's not funny.

It's not supposed to be funny.
It's a business meeting.

Things used to be funny
around here.

Noses were picked,
pants fell down.

So, what changed?

Only Fry could say,
and he's gone.

Hey. Bender and Leela
are back from Pandora.

How was it?
Awful.

We had nothing to say
to each other,

so we had to listen to Bender's
Eagles album for 27 hours.

Beats talking to you,
witchy woman.

Hey, he's back!

Look at you.
Hubba hubba.

Your pants go almost all
the way to your ankles.

Good afternoon,
individuals.

Sir, would you mind
stepping out of the building?

Normally, when a cop
asks me that,

I spray whip cream
in his eyes and run away,

but to ditch
these losers, gladly.

Bender,
be honest with me.

Are you planning
a big heist?

Usually, but not
at the moment.

I only ask 'cause the Oracle
thinks you're going to pull off

a major theft
next Thursday.

Next Thursday,
you say?

Pray, continue.

Are you familiar with
this particular location?

I may have a burgling
familiarity with it.

Does the word "Maltese"
mean anything to you?

The Maltese Liquor,

the strongest and most valuable
malt liquor ever brewed!

And soon it will be mine.

I'm sorry.
You were saying?

Bender, I'm only
telling you this

so you can avoid
committing the crime.

"Avoid committing the crime."
Got it.

You wrote
"Commit the crime!"

There's got to be
some way to stop Bender.

Maybe something
in the Oracle's prediction

that I missed before,
due to incompetence.

Wait. Who's
the trigger-happy jerk?

That's me!
I recognize the face.

You sh*t me!
You miserable dingus!

No! No!
What have I will have done?

Man, that's heavy.
Osmium heavy.

Are you going to turn me in
for concealing evidence?

Say what? You're my partner, home Fry.

Besides, I got
my own secrets.

Anything big
worth checking out?

Just your big
jangly booty, baby.

See you tonight, toots.

You and the chief?

Mmm-hmm.
We been getting it on.

Right there
in your chair.

I'm like, "Oh, baby!
Oh, baby!"

And she's like, "Yeah.
Yeah. Yeah."

I would never sh**t Bender.
Never!

He taught me
how to shave.

Revision ball.

By deciding not
to sh**t Bender,

you created
an alternate future.

I could never sh**t you. Never!
You taught me how to shave.

See?

Just get out of here. Go!

Now, dig
the unintended consequences.

My friends,
let us share this booze

in a toast to
our dear friend, Bender.

Oops.

The Maltese Liquor
done destroyed their brains.

Fools should have known
it's fatal

for anyone but robots
and Billy Dee Williams.

So, if I don't sh**t Bender
all my other friends will die?

Fate is a freaky mistress.
Much like the chief.

Look out!

Something's not right.
I refuse to believe it.

Rewind.

Ooh!

Are you the calloused
working man I ordered?

Uh... Sure.

In order to fix
your leaky roof,

I'll need to spend two or three
hours down here in the wine cellar.

I'll be upstairs
putting batteries in things.

Whoa!

The Maltese Liquor.

Forty ounces of heaven!

Here, boy.
This is for you.

Ahh!

Hmm...

Invisible safe, eh?

Yeah, baby!

210 proof.

That's all the proof
I need.

Put the bottle back.

We both know
I won't do that.

Either you're
going to sh**t me,

or I'm going to spray
whip cream in your eyes

and walk out of here
like a big sh*t.

Bender, no!

You don't have to do something
just 'cause it's going to happen.

The future's making
a chump out of you.

Oh, yeah? Well, I'm going to
make a chump out of the future.

I'm not stealing anything!

Yes! I stopped the crime
without sh**ting you.

The Oracle was wrong.

Was I?

Pickles?
Yes.

It is I, Pickles.

I set
the whole thing up.

Everyone will think
Bender's the thief

while I make off
with that glorious brew.

Seriously? Why?

So I can k*ll
my human brain cells.

Do you have any idea
what a burden it is

to know everything
that will ever happen?

To never be surprised.

To know the punch line of
every joke hours in advance.

Like watching Leno.

And that is why I faked the
prediction of this crime.

Nevertheless,
stay with me here,

things will now happen
just as I fake predicted.

Bender, you're going
to hand me that bottle.

Not that one!

The real one, which you switched
when Fry stupidly looked away.

Hey.

Man. Why you got
to be so Oracle-y?

Fry, you are going to sh**t Bender,

k*lling him and
shattering the fake bottle,

just as
I predicted.

Do it!
It is your destiny!

Funny thing about destiny.

Sometimes fate
has other plans.

Oh!

Nuts.

You sh*t me!

You miserable dingus!

And now the part
I didn't show you.

Oh!

Everyone will think
Bender k*lled you,

and I walk away
with the goofy juice!

Ah!

Finally, blissful ignorance.

I have no idea
what's going to happen next.

Did you
get that, Chief?

We got it all from behind
this prediction-proof glass.

But how could you know
my prediction was fake?

I knew something was wrong, but
I couldn't put my finger on it.

Then, it hit me.

You showed Bender

sharing the deadly booze
with our friends.

Bender would never share.

The very idea!

So we set up
this little charade

based on an episode
of Speed Buggy.

With the added benefit
of me and the chief

being locked
in a small room.

Shall we adjourn
to the dungeon?

Well, I got my shield
for stopping Bender.

But, then I got fired
for tipping off Bender.

Fry, we have no idea
what you do around here,

but we desperately
need you back.

Really?

I don't suppose there's any
chance I could get a promotion.

Sure. What the heck?

I hereby
promote you to

executive
delivery boy.

Executive?

It's a meaningless title.

But it helps insecure people
feel better about themselves.

I feel better about myself!