07x03 - Decision 3012

[bunniefuu]

"Free beer"?!

Free beer. Free beer.

Free beer.
Free beer.

Free beer-beer-beer-beer-beer-
beer-beer-beer-beer-beer!

Free...!

Hello. I'm here for the free beer.

You got it.

Right after these 800 people get it.

Beer, beer-beer, beer-beer.

Beer?

Ah... yeah!

Thank you, headless clone of Agnew.

My fellow Earthicans,

I'm proud to announce
I'm running for reelection

as Ppresident of Earth,

the greatest planet in the world.

Is everyone enjoying their free beer?

Well, there's plenty more
where that came from.

We're all out of beer.

All right, listen up, nitwits.

Who here is tired

of illegal space aliens
taking our good earth jobs?

Me, too.

So, if I'm reelected,
I promise to build

a really big Dyson fence

across the Southern border
of our solar system.

And furthermore, by golly,

I promise to cut taxes for the rich

and use the poor
as a cheap source of teeth

for aquarium gravel.

Yeah! That'll show those poor!

Why are you cheering, Fry?
You're not rich.

True, but someday I might be rich.

And then people like me
better watch their step.

Let's just find Bender.

Ah, that hit the spot.

I found Bender!

Good news, everyone.

Wha...?

I've repaired myself with these

convenient "Reelect Nixon"
ass stickers.

Go Nixon!

Bender, you can't even vote.

You're a convicted felon.

Convicted, sentenced and ex*cuted.

But Nixon passed a law that
says ex-cons can vote again...

As long as they vote for Nixon.

But Nixon's the worst
president in history

and alternate history.

The rest of you aren't

voting for him, are you?

Sure, we are!
Why not?

Of course!
Spluh!

He may not be perfect,

but do we really want
some unknown new guy?

I'll stick with the evil maniac
I know, thank you.

Well, I think we can do better.

This year, I'm going to get involved

in the political process
and make my voice heard.

What?

Welcome to debate 3012,
the 3,012th debate

of the 3012 election year.

We have a crowded field
of candidates,

so I will dispense
with the informal terrorizing

and begin the questions.

Is this the political process?

'cause I'm here to
get involved in it.

Silence!

Question one: Will you pledge today

to somehow reduce taxes

while simultaneously lowering
the deficit?

Hey, that's a good idea. Sure.

If it'll win me the election,
then yes.

We have a saying up in Alaska.

That's all.

Senator Travers?

Look, let's be honest here.

No one likes taxes, but they pay
for our basic needs:

Roads, schools, defense.

If we hope to realize our
aspirations as a great planet,

we must each pay our fair share

to achieve those noble goals.

Thank you, Senator.

A thoughtful and lucid answer.

You will be destroyed!

Question two:
The environment, yes or no?

No. It's junk science.

Two words: Condor att*ck.

Don't want that. Got to say no.

Now, just a minute.

These are important issues.

We can't just reduce them
to sound bites.

According to reputable scientists...

Enviromite!

Hello?

I'd like to volunteer.

Is anyone lurking?

Hey, stop that.

Senator Travers?

That's no way to win an election.

I give up.

No one cares about my message.

I never should have used
the same pr guy

as one hour hot dog.

People will wait
for something good.

No, don't quit.

You have great ideas.

You just need to get them out there

with social media.

Look, I posted your
debate video on Facebag.

10,000 views?

That's more than most
water-skiing squirrels get.

You really think I have a chance?

Absolutely.

We just need to conceal
your intelligence and honesty

in a hipper, dumber package.

Well, what have I got to lose?

I'm making you
my new campaign manager.

You, out!

You haven't heard the last of m...

As the Iowa caucus approaches,

the state's hippest citizens
turned out

for an old-fashioned flash mob.

Chris Travers got a bump
in the new Hampshire polls today,

where he simuldined in 250
diners at once via hologram.

This pie at this diner
is the best pie.

Chris Travers wins
the South California primary handily,

thanks to a series of
well-placed cameo appearances.

Super Tuesday is in the books,
with Eurasia, Australia

and Kentucky turning out
in big numbers.

With the race a dead heat,

it's all come down to
a final tally at the convention.

And the first runner-up,

who will take over if the nominee

is caught with a dead girl,
a live boy

or any kind of sexy ghost...

Mr. Greenland!

Which means our nominee
is the Senator

from the nation-state of Hawaii,

Chris Travers!

He won the nomination!

We the people did it!

It wasn't "we the people".

It was you the mutant.

Your insightful nagging
really won us over.

Yeah. You explained his positions

in a way even an idiot
could understand.

And that appealed to me,
for whatever reason.

Thanks, guys, but we have
a lot of work ahead of us.

If we're going to win the election,

we've all got to get involved.

You said it!
That's right.

If you want my opinion,

Nixon's only chance to defeat Travers

is with filthy lies, dirty tricks

and good old Quaker thuggery.

And I'm just the guy for the job.

{pub}I'm not sure if it's safe to talk.

Are you wearing a wire?

I'm 40% wire.

Excellent. Now, listen.

We got to get some dirt
on this Travers guy.

Really McGovern him up.

You know who McGovern was, right?

I don't even know who you are.

Hello, dirt.

I'll start at "n" for nude pictures.

Aw, Nobel prize?

That's no good.

How about "a" for adultery?

What? Straight-a transcript?

Hey, what's that rifling sound?

Uh-oh.

All right. I'm going to catch
Travers on video

at this sleazy strip club.

In and out of the club
13 times in one night.

That's a record.
Where's Travers?

All I see is you going in and out.

Yeah, me.
I set the record.

This is as useless as
those pictures you photoshopped.

Look, just give me one more
chance. I got a source.

Well, you did manage to get
a tremendous urine sample.

Let's not talk about that.

Is that you, big throat?

In the flesh.

Listen, I need some dirt
on Senator Chris Travers.

How quaint.

But I suppose I should do my part

for political intercourse.

Come closer,
and I'll expose what I know.

There's nothing.

He's as clean as a
freshly waxed buttock.

Hey! Did you put your tongue
in my ear?

Certainly not.
I don't have a tongue.

Oh, good.
'cause I don't have an ear.

Come on, come on, fall.

Fall, damn it, fall!

Well? What did you get on Travers?

Is he a draft dodger?
Sex offender?

Sex dodger?

Nada. He's clean.

I'm sorry, but there's
not one unusual thing

about Senator Chris Zaxxar Travers.

Wait, wait.
His middle name is Zaxxar?

Sounds kind of alien.

The voters hate aliens.

They sure do, but this guy's
as human as you or me.

I don't care what he is.

We'll start a rumor
that he's an alien.

Hey, yeah.
That'll cost him votes.

Then, when he says he
was born on this planet,

we make him cough up
his earth certificate.

Keep it on the news,
put him on the defensive.

Oh, this is sneaky.

I feel a jowl movement coming on.

And that's how you end hunger.

Does anyone have any questions?

I do, I do!
Me, Bender!

Yes, the robot with the
megaphone jumping up and down.

I have a question
for Senator c. Zaxxar Travers.

Tell me, Zaxxar...

Were you even born on earth?

Because the earth constitution
clearly states

that only people born
on earth can be president.

Isn't that right,
Justice Ruth Dader Ginsburg?

You Ruth Bader believe it!

But-but... I...

Of course I was born on earth.

Oh, really?

Then we voters demand you
release your earth certificate

so I can then claim it's a fake.

I'm not going to dignify
this preposterous charge.

Are there any real questions?

Scoop Chang, fox quote-unquote news.

Senator, in the last ten seconds,

I've heard reports you weren't
actually born on earth.

Care to evade
these compelling charges?

No. I mean, yes.

I mean...

Okay, let's nip this
earther movement in the bud

by releasing your earth certificate.

Where were you born?

Our lady of patriotism hospital.

Patriotism, good.
Where is it?

Kenya.
Cradle of humanity.

Leel this is just a stupid
distraction from the issues.

Please don't look for
my earth certificate.

Hey! That was my favorite window.

I better see what they want.

We want an earthling,

not a dirty space thing!

Why are you rednecks doing this?

Leela, don't stereotype.

Why are you yokels doing this?

I may be just
a backwoods septic t*nk,

but I've had it up to here
with you foreigners.

But I come from earth.

Then show us yer earth whatchacallit.

Long-form certificate of live birth.

What would it take
to convince you people?

Would I have to have been born
right before your eyes?

It wouldn't hurts.

Hit it, rubes!

We don't want a foreigner!

We want someone born here!

Ah, I'm still working on that one.

What's wrong with you?

Why are you sabotaging
a decent, honest candidate?

'cause they won't let me near
the hoover dam anymore.

Ooh. What a bunch of xenophobes.

It's time to find Senator
Travers' earth certificate

and put an end to this nonsense.

Who wants to help me break
into the hospital in Kenya?

I'll come.

As long as there's
no xenophobes there.

I want to come, too.
You? Why?

To prove that I can put
divisive partisan politics aside

to participate in a break-in.

Hospital ho!

Shh. It's a herd of night watchmen.

I found it!

I don't understand.

There's no earth certificate in here.

No, there isn't.

I told you not to look.

So, you're not from earth after all.

Of course I'm from earth.

Wait a second.

There's no earth certificate,

but it does say your
mother was admitted

to the maternity
ward... this morning!

I should have known

the truth would come out
sooner or later.

The fact is, I really was
born on earth... tomorrow.

You see, I'm not from another planet.

I'm from the future.

{pub}This is crazy.

You're from the future?
Yes.

I was sent back from the year 3028

to prevent Nixon
from getting elected.

I was sent forward from the year 00,

but you don't hear me
gassing on about it.

But why would it be so
important to stop Nixon?

Because of the horrific events
he's going to set in motion.

Oh, God.

I can't bring myself to describe it.

Oh, well. Want to hear
about how I got frozen?

Not really.

It all started
with Nixon's promise

to build an alien-proof fence
around the solar system.

Without cheap alien labo
for menial jobs

like harvesting crops, teaching math

and curing disease,
the economy collapsed.

Starvation.

Desperation. Despair.

So far, so good.
Then what?

Unable to feed
the world's starving masses,

Nixon took bold action.

In this time of crisis,
I call upon the soylent major...

I mean silent majority.

Still good.

With the working class gone,

robots were forced
to do all the menial labor.

Before long,
they rose up in revolt...

... Led by a bending unit
named b.B. Rodriguez.

Wait...
I know a robot named b.B. Rodriguez!

Wait... I am a robot
named b.B. Rodriguez.

So, I become ruler of earth?

Indeed.

Yes!

In your face,
high school guidance counselor.

The robots crushed

our most treasured monuments
and celebrities,

but they couldn't crush
the human spirit.

We went into hiding,

and after careful research,
located a xeroxed copy

of an ancient time travel code.

Though I was only 15,

mankind entrusted me with its
last remaining suit and tie

and sent me back in time.

I would be raised by my grandparents,

somehow get into Harvard law school,

become a community organizer,
a Senator

and finally...

Defeat Richard Nixon.

I escaped just as the robots arrived.

All right, I'm low on b*ll*ts.

Everybody scooch together.

It's not too late.

You can still win the election.

No, I can't.
The Earthers are right.

I have no earth certificate.

But you will have one
in just a few hours.

And everyone will know it's real,

cause we'll broadcast
your birth on live TV.

If it's on TV, it has to be real.

Morbo interrupts "Bowling For Quatloos"

to present breaking coverage

of the birth of Senator Chris Traver

we now go live to the delivery room,

where we're already at there.

Ow!

Ck, please.
She needs room.

Thanks.
Not you.

The camerawoman needs room.

This is it, ladies and gentlemen.

The candidate is...

I believe he's crowning!

Push, mom, push.
You can do it.

I bet nothing comes out.

Just you watch.

Here comes the head.

And now the neck.

Linda, I'm down here at the pelvis,

and folks round these parts
can't remember the last time

a time-traveling Senator
attended his own birth.

Back to you.

Thanks, Morbo.

You be careful down there.

And the candidate is born!

We have a birth...
Repeat, we have a birth.

Aw... he's got his own eyes.

Well, who'd have thunk it.

He was born all right,

just like he said.

And with the polls now closed
in every time zone worldwide,

from Tomorrowland
to the Republic of yesterday,

we are able to declare a winner.

Chris Travers,
who leapt backwards in time

and ahead in the polls,
has defeated Richard Nixon.

He did it! He did it!

Yes!

Congratulations, Mr. president.

It's all thanks to you, Leela.

You stood by me and exposed
my private medical records,

even after I begged you not to.

Aw, thanks.

Now, get up to that podium
and change the world.

Too bad your pal Xon lost, Bender.

You must be pretty glorked off.

Nope. I don't give a bag
of butts who won the election.

Nothing's going to change.

What? How can you say that?

Watch and learn.

My fellow Earthicans,

I am honored and humbled
to stand before you tonight

as your next president.

Together, we will...

Hey, what's-what's going on?

What's happening?

You see, since Nixon wasn't elected,

the robot uprising didn't happen

and Travers never got
sent back from the future.

It's politics 101.

And the votes are in.

Richard Nixon, running unopposed,

has been reelected
by a narrow landslide.

Say what?

My fellow Earthicans,

I am honored and humbled
to gloat before you tonight

as your next president.

Wow, it really doesn't
matter who you vote for.

At least we tried
to make a difference

by supporting Senator...

Senator...

What was his name again?

Uh, I don't remember.

We never even left this building.

What?

Nixon always wins!