07x02 - A Farewell to Arms

[bunniefuu]

Oh, my hair!

Lot of weather we're having.

Allow me, m'lady.

Shall we go a-trousering?

Fry, I appreciate the gallantry,
but isn't this a bit much?

You're right. I'm sorry
for showing my love.

Okay. Fine.

Here, take my hand.

News and weather, everyone!

I'm sure you've all noticed

the bizarre atmospheric
conditions of late.

Come to mention it, yes.

It seems something ain't
right in the magnetosphere,

so I'm launching this
high-altitude weather balloon

to gather more data.

My pants!
My lucky pants!

They don't look so lucky to me.

They are, too!

I was wearing them that time
I found a dime in my ear.

I was wearing them when I
won a subscription to Redbook.

And I was wearing them
when I first met Leela,

so yeah, they're lucky.

Aw...
also, oh, Lord.

Plus, they're my only pants.

You've worn the same
pants for a thousand years?

No wonder they made a run for it.

Soon your trousers will
slip the surly bonds of Earth

and ascend to the heavens.

I'm gonna blast that balloon!

No way will I let
God get my pants!

Nobody messes with my pants!

Not even the holy one, blessed be he.

Look out!
A Central Park badger!

I'll save you, pants!

Scruffy, do you have any varmint grease?

What viscosity you need?

Whoa, there's writing in here!

Also, this grease is flammable.

Incredible! Who could have
done this, the sewer mutants?

No, this isn't Mutant language.

We use a lot more profanity.
Son of a bitch...!

Leela, take my hand!

I'm slipping!

The one time your hands
aren't sticky, they're greasy!

Oh, sorry. Normally I would've
wiped them on my pants, but...

Are you okay?

I... ow!
My leg, it's broken.

How'd you get down here?

We made a rope from my shirt and jacket

and an expedition flag
from my underpants.

I'll help you up.
Here, take my hand.

Stop telling me to take your hand.

Look, Fry, your noble gestures
keep making things worse.

Can't you just be a rude,
unhelpful jerk like Bender?

When I use up the toilet paper,
I don't put on a new roll.

Fry, my friend, I found your pants.

And no sign of that crafty badger.

All right! Lucky pants!

Oh, my God! Look what
my flashlight found!

A huge pyramid under New New York?

What badger could've built this?

And look at this
intricately carved disk.

It merits years of study.

But how can we move such
a fragile, precious...

Ancient history coming through!

No, no, no, no, no!

Amazing!

It appears to be some kind
of extremely ancient calendar,

predating even
the "Girls of Sumeria."

Of course.
It's a Mayan calendar.

No, wait. There's some
dried-up old stew on the screen.

Sorry. I was eatin' a can of
breakfast and lookin' at p*rn.

It's not Mayan, it's Martian!

Amy, you grew up on Mars, right?

- Can you read Martian?
- A little.

I only learned enough to
yell at my nanny. Let's see.

I think it means...
"The sun will erupt...

all shall perish,"
blah-blah-blah.

Get to the point!
What does it say about me, Bender?

Nothing! But it does say

a great cataclysm will destroy
the world in the year 3012!

The world?
That's where I live!

Told you it'd say something about me.

So the world will end in 3012.

Why does that year sound so familiar?!

Because that's the year
that's this year! See?

So, uh, you all done with the computer?

Is it just me, or is the world
ending more often these days?

The calendar predicts
fires, earthquakes,

sharksplosions, then it just ends!

Exactly as the weather balloon foretold.

Before Fry blew his
pants out of the sky,

it detected the onset of
a catastrophic sunspot cycle.

It's starting.
This is the end of the world.

Coward Man away!

Some of us were crazy
before it was cool.

Evacuating the planet in three, two...

So long, Earth. Thanks for nothing.

It's not starting.

Come ons, comes on!

Let me try,
Headless Clone of Agnew.

Damn thing just won't turn over.

It's like Pat on a Sunday morning.

Oh, the Marconi is on the fritz, too!

The electromagnetic storm is
disabling all electronics on Earth.

Hi, there.

Well, it wasn't a bad life.

If only I could get back that time
I spent watching TRON: Legacy.

Leela, I've made up my mind.

Before we die, I'm
gonna find and destroy

every remaining copy of TRON: Legacy.

It may take a couple of hours, but...

Fry, stop trying to do things for me.

Whatever time we have
left, just live it with me.

So... you wanna
join the Balcony Club?

The Balcony Club?
I have an individual membership.

- Zoidberg, get lost.
- I am lost. So long.

Stop the end-of-the-world sex.
We might survive after all.

All right, Amy, what's so important
that you interrupted my embalming?

I translated more Martian symbols.
There's a way off this planet.

That underground pyramid
isn't a pyramid...

it's a rocket ship!

It was worth waiting five hours
to hear you finish that sentence.

A spaceship made of stone?
With no electronics, it just might work!

I'll stick with wind-up
power, thank you very much.

Hmm, I've never flown a pyramid before,

but I used to drive
around town in a mausoleum.

How many people can this thing carry?

Well, the mausoleum
held ten horny teenagers, so...

maybe 30,000.

It's our moral duty
to save as many lives as possible.

They had their chance.
Let's go!

Mind if I appear?

Welcome to the Hidey House.

Brannigan, tell me about this
freaky-deaky escape pyramid.

I can fly it, sir.
I just need to know where, and how.

The obvious destination is Mars.

It's close, with lots of open space
and no Woodward or Bernstein.

That's a plus.

But we can only save 30,000 people.
How do we choose who goes?

Well, let's see now.
We'll need leaders...

...scientists, doctors,
bureaucrats, pilots,

valuable appliances...
even janitors.

But that's it.
No one else.

I'll miss you, Leela.

But it's okay, 'cause then I'll die.

Cut the waterworks, hippie!

The final decision
will be made not by me,

but by a cold, logical machine.

Who shall live and who shall die?

Step right up to the
contrabulous choose-matron!

I hate waiting in line to die.

Move it along, grandma.

Stick your hand in
and take your chances.

Female, crotchety.
Needed to keep others in their place.

Accepted!

Damn straight, kajigger!

Ooh, me next!

We just got one of these. Rejected!

Male, scientist,
fond of crazy contraptions.

Accepted!

Female, scientist.
We were in the same sorority.

Accepted!

- Sigma Beta, see you latah!
- Sigma Beta, see you latah!

Male, medical doctor,
delicious with butter and lemon.

Accepted!

I wish they'd hurry.

I want to get out of here
before the mayhem starts.

Mayhem?!
There's gonna be mayhem?

I'm stayin'!
Hoo-ee!

Well, might as well
get it over with.

Delivery boy, no discernible skills.

Accepted!

'Cause I like his pants.

Yes! My lucky pants!

Leela, we can go together
after all. Come on.

Get your badge.
Take my hand.

Top g*n pilot, natural leader,

extreme combat training.
Rejected!

What?!

With all spaceships inoperable,
we only need one spaceship pilot.

Wonder what this doo-cracky does?

Snake door. Roger.

You can't reject Leela!
Give her a badge, you stupid box!

Male, filthy hand, violent temper.

Accepted again!

Nooo!

Fry, the box has spoken.
Go to Mars.

Okay.

Will you at least keep this photo?

Remember how Bender dumped
all that pig's blood on me?

You keep it.
I'll remember you in here.

I wish I could remember
with my boobs.

Leela, we're off to Mars.

We'll see ourselves out.

Wait, I did it.
I got Leela a ticket.

How did you do that?

A magician never reveals his secrets.
Except the Great Revealo.

That guy stinks.

I still don't see why
you get the window seat.

Folks, this is your captain.
Our snake tanks are fully loaded,

so once I figure out which
button launches this...

I figured it out!

Boo!
Don't come back!

Well, let's get lootin'!

Fry, this is the most noble thing
anyone has ever done for me.

Wait, Fry?

I'm a lot of people, but I'm not Fry.

Oh, no!

Welcome to Mars!
It is with heavy heart and open arms

that we receive Earth's only survivors.

- Admission, $20.
- Dad! Gleesh.

Greetings, Mars men.

We come to your planet to
construct a gleaming city,

a second Earth on which to begin anew.

Okay. Admission, $20.

I can't believe it.
Fry sacrificed his spot for me,

and I never even had
a chance to thank him.

Don't worry, Leela. Earth is still
there, peaceful and serene as ever.

Bender!
You're stealing your own stuff!

I am?
Geez, I better slow down.

I'm stealing stuff I don't even need.

- You want a Torah?
- Nah, I'm not hungry.

Aw, what's the matter?
Scared of dying?

No. 'Cause as long as Leela lives,
I'll be alive, too, in her heart.

But really I'll be dead.

Ladies and gentlemen,
our new Martian city is complete.

I give you...
Dickfrancisco!

The doves didn't magically
spring from my hand,

but rather were crammed into
this netting sewn into my sleeve!

Thank you, Great Revealo.

And now, as a solemn testicle
to those left behind on Earth,

I present this monument,
titled simply, "Heroes."

That frightened little girl in
the statue reminds me of Fry.

Stop the ceremony.

Who is this non-Washington redskin?

I am Singing Wind, chief
of the native Martian tribe.

But I thought your people
abandoned this planet.

We did.
I just came back for my stuff.

- What're you guys doing here?
- Fleeing Earth, of course.

We flew here in your
great stone pyramid.

Seriously? That thing flies?

Of course.
Your people left it so we could escape.

I translated your warning
that the world was doomed.

Not your world.
Our world.

We put calendar there to
warn you not to visit Mars.

It Mars that gonna be destroyed.

Why you think we so eager
to abandon this dump?

You guys got ten, 15 minutes max.
Well, so long.

Hey, Ancient Martian's
a very hard language.

A........ looks just like a ......... .

- To the spaceship!
- There is no spaceship.

You had it dismantled
to build that statue.

To the statue.

Oh, what an idiot I was.
And by "I", I mean "you."

The final solar flare is going
to bypass Earth and strike Mars.

My God, one of the hundreds of
contradictory prophecies is coming true.

I should've known better than to
trust one of Fry's romantic gestures.

Every time he says he
loves me, I get k*lled.

It's just as I only now began to fear.

The solar flares are igniting
subsurface gas pockets.

Mars is being blasted out of its orbit.

Fry, you noble idiot.

You're right, Bender,
grave robbing is fun.

And these Pinias Skulladas are fantastic.

The crazy weather cleared
up, too, for whatever reason.

All in all, it's a fine
day for an apocalypse.

So you don't miss
what's-her-name?

Of course I do.

But even though we're
millions of miles apart,

somehow, I feel she's near me.

Very near!

Oh no!
The Kajigger of Gibraltar!

I have got to quit drinking.

Thanks, friend!

Another great thing was
she always had room for dessert.

We're passing surprisingly
close to Earth!

When we reach 72nd Street, jump!

Ah. Cushiony.

We made it. We're back home.

Okay, today is still a workday, so...

Wait! Help!

I'm still on Mars, and I can't jump!

Hang on, Leela!
I'll save you again!

Or somebody else could do it!

Quick, take my hand.

I don't know.
Bad things happen when you say that.

- I got her!
- Ow!

- Oops. Try again!
- We're too far apart.

No, we're not. Grab your
severed arm with your other arm.

Ew... kay...

Hurray!

Good thing Scruffy rescued Leela.

Don't thank me, thank the ladder.

Your cloned arms should be
fully grown in a month or so.

But for right now,

enjoy the sounds of the
world's smallest violin.

I hope you're not too mad at me,
Leela, for tearing your arm off and all.

I can't be mad.
I'm on way too many painkillers.

Plus, you were willing to
sacrifice yourself so I could live.

I mean, you failed,
miserably,

but you're the only person
who loves me enough to try.

One last foolish gesture?

- Uh...
- Mm.

Mmm...