06x03 - att*ck of the k*ller App

[bunniefuu]

(CROWD APPLAUDING)

As Mayor, it is my deeply tedious pleasure

to kick off the 83rd or 84th Annual E-Waste Recycling Festival!

(CHEERING)

Down in front!

Sorry. I get aroused in crowds.

I will now throw out the ceremonial first dump,

this old, inefficient vote-rigger!

(CHEERING)

These old doomsday devices are dangerously unstable.

I'll rest easier not knowing where they are.

So long, overly complicated Japanese toilet.

TOILET: Please, not to throw away. I give you a happy poopie time.

Sorry, you know too much.

(CHUCKLES)

Seems like a good place to ditch some evidence.

Flexo?

What are you doing in a hazardous-waste bin?

Haven't you heard?

Us bending units are dangerously outdated.

We overheat, we're radioactive, we cause erectile...

Who were you talking to?

No one. Your mama. Shut up. Take your pick.

(REPORTERS CLAMORING)

Scoop Chang, New New York Times online podcast blog comments editor.

Mr. Mayor, isn't this e-waste dangerous?

Not at all, Scoop.

Not after it's hauled off to the third world by an expendable team

of minimum-wage nobodies.

Good news, nobodies!

Greetings, my friends!

It shan't take long to strip down your clunker.

There's nothing wrong with our clunker.

Really? Because we can smelt out the deadly, deadly chromium

to make rat poison and artificial sweeteners.

No, thanks. We're delivering e-waste.

Pity. We're halfway done.

This thing is 40% chromium!

Gentle now. Gentle with the hover dumpster.

Ready for processing!

What smells like bloody sinuses?

We burn your e-waste down to the usable metals,

safely releasing the toxins into our air and drinking water.

(EX CLAIMS) That's the worst thing I've ever seen!

Really? Then don't look over there.

Whee!

Okay, kids. Let's play "find the shiny."

(ALL COUGHING)

That's even more horrific! Is all the work done by children?

No, not the whipping.

(WHIP CRACKING)

Granted, we later learned some positive things about recycling,

but a better solution is to use our electronics

as long as possible instead of throwing them out in the first place.

I'm gonna start by keeping my old cell phone, even if it is outdated.

Hello, Miss Turanga. Your call to St. Louis has gone through.

Well, let's at least throw this TV out.

The batteries in the remote are getting low.

No! Put that back and turn it on!

I was just trying to help.

More on this breaking puff piece after a word from our sponsor.

ANNOUNCER: With the new eyePhone, you can watch, listen,

ignore your friends, stalk your ex, download p*rn on a crowded bus,

even check your e-mail while getting hit by a train.

All with the new eyePhone.

WOMAN: From Mom.

A new eyePhone? Forget this junk.

Well, this is a fine how-do-you-do!

- So long! - Sayonara.

- Bye-bye! - Good riddance!

- Yup! - Toodle-oo.

Come on, let's buy some eyePhones online.

Wait. I thought we were buying our eyePhones online.

We are on line.

But I thought the Mom Store was across town.

It is across town.

- But I thought... - Stop thinking, Fry!

I feel like a mindless zombie.

I wish I knew how long we've been waiting.

The eyePhone has an app for that!

Is there an app for kissing my shiny metal ass?

- Several! - Ooh!

No, the light! I guess I'm off to hell.

That's the store, Professor.

(POP SONG PLAYING)

Wow! It's that obscure underground song

that's constantly playing everywhere.

Hello, dearies. Welcome to the Mom Store.

The new eyePhones are in short supply, so please form an orderly...

- Out of the way! - I need...

Move!

- Are there any left? - There may be one.

Okay, it's $500, you have no choice of carrier,

the battery can't hold a charge and the reception isn't very...

Shut up and take my money!

The new eyePhone is wonderful.

I use it to check recipes and send threatening e-mails

to unauthorized third-party app developers.

Say, you're from one of those ethnicities that knows about technology.

- Why is it called an eyePhone? - I'll explain after I install it.

(SCREAMING)

Neat.

Now for the earpiece.

But my favorite app is called Twitcher.

(FRY SCREAMS)

Twitcher lets you send and receive short messages or videos called twits.

Why, here's a twit now.

Hi, Mom. I love you more than...

AUTOMATED VOICE: Low battery.

But don't take my word for it.

Unbiased-Reviews. Mom says Twitcher is the k*ller app.

And when I say k*ller app,

I mean k*ller app!

(SINISTER LAUGH)

Ow!

ANNOUNCER: And now, another downloadisode

of The Real Housewives of Sim City.

She needs to reset. I'll say it to her face.

No wonder traditional media is dead.

Check out this webisode of Hypnotoad.

Enjoy your outdated format, Grandpa.

Nowadays, cool kids like me mash up our own phone-isodes.

It's from the kidnappers. My nephew is alive!

And he's in this envelope.

They cut off one of my dimensions!

- No! No! - (SOBBING)

Oh, my God, it's Bender! He'll save us!

(RINGING)

What's happening to me? Is it puberty?

It's a phone call, dingus.

These eyePhones are phones, too?

Duh!

- Fry-Io. - Hi, Fry.

Did you know these eyePhones are phones, too?

Duh! Hey, is it safe to talk while you're flying?

Oh, totally. This thing's hands-free.

That's how I can eat this taco and this spaghetti.

I'm hanging up now.

Hey, check out this Internet video of some idiot crashing her spaceship!

- You recorded that? - The eyePhone records everything.

All I did was add a laugh track and twit it to my 10,000 followers.

(LAUGHTER)

That reminds me. It's time to twit my hourly twupdate.

What's up, followers? Fry here.

(BURPS) Burping eggs, scratching my underarm fungus,

looking for love. Send.

Underarm fungus?

Too much information.

It's exactly the right amount of information!

For years, I've collected personal data with old-fashioned methods,

like spybots and info-squitos.

This guy sure loves p*rn.

But now, thanks to Twitcher,

morons voluntarily spew out every fact I need to exploit them!

Target acquired, Mother.

Fire direct marketing algorithm!

Do you suffer from the heartbreak of...

FRY: My underarm fungus.

Then you, Mr. Or Mrs... (BURPS) Need the soothing relief

of Mom's Caustic Anti-Fungal Bleach!

Can I somehow charge it to my eyePhone for an additional fee?

MOM: Hell, yes!

Hey, fatso, stuffa you face!

(GASPS) This thing always seems to know when I got the munchies!

Attention, followers.

It's free topping day at the pizza place across the street! Send.

Duh! That's why we all came over here for lunch. Send.

Greetings, followers.

This is day five of my solo kayak journey around the world. Send.

(LAUGHS)

Can you believe 50,000 idiots swallow that crap? Send.

Oops.

Wait. You have 50,000 followers? I only have three. Send.

(EYEPHONES BEEP)

I unsubscribed yesterday.

I got the most followers 'cause I give the people what they want.

Like this video of you doing karate in your underpants.

(EX CLAIMING)

(GROANS)

- Help! Police! - Send.

That is low, Bender, even by your standards.

My what now?

Since when is the Internet about robbing people of their privacy?

August 6, 1991.

I'll bet I can get as many followers as you without sinking to your level.

What do you say? First one to a million followers wins a buck.

- You're on! - (EX CLAIMS)

Send.

- What happens to the loser? - Let's make it interesting.

(EX CLAIM IN DISGUST)

Why is Mr. Chunks doing that?

Because the loser of our bet has to do a double somersault

into a tub of alien goat vomit. (CHUCKLING)

Wait, let's make it interestinger.

Vomit and diarrhea.

Good idea. That way we don't waste an end.

It's putrid. What do you feed him?

What comes out one end, we feed to the other.

Also Indian food.

Let the contest begin!

(SCREAMING)

(INAUDIBLE)

Amazing.

Some dumb bastard

has nearly a million other dumb bastards following his every twit!

Are you dumb bastards listening to me, you dumb bastards?

Why are you so angry, Mommy?

Oh, I'm sorry.

I guess I'm just a little nervous about my evil plan.

You dumb bastards!

You see, the plan is about to enter phase two.

As soon as someone reaches a million followers,

I'll use them to transmit the twit-worm.

Mother, you devious hag. Tell us more about this twit-worm.

It's a very special computer virus,

for instead of infecting computers, it infects the human brain.

I like it.

The million followers will become an army of zombies

eager to obey my every command! (LAUGHING)

The important thing is, we're a family.

No, it's not!

(MR. CHUNKS SNEEZES)

Ew! He sneezed in it.

Oh, God, I'm going to lose the bet.

I'm gonna have to swim in the juice of the Puke-Me-Poop-You.

Don't give up. You just need more titillating twits.

Trust me, I want twits that tittle.

Then you're gonna have to sink to Bender's level.

Stop acting like the Queen of England.

(WOMAN SINGING)

Who's that? The Queen of England?

Excuse me. I have to... Someplace.

That was odd. Where'd that singing come from?

It wasn't the goat. All of its orifices are in use.

WOMAN: (SINGING) I dreamed a dream in time gone by

When hope was high and life worth living

I dreamed that love would never die

I dreamed that God would be forgiving

(SCREAMING)

- What the hell is that? - Nothing.

I'm not nothing.

All my life, everyone's called me nothing.

You have a boil on your butt that sings show tunes with you?

Don't look at me. I'm a freak.

No, no, well...

I've been ashamed of Susan as long as I can remember.

You named your boil Susan?

A boil kinna have a name? They also said a boil kinna sing, but...

(SINGING) Amazing grace How...

(SCREAMS)

Ew! She's Scottish.

I lance her every few months, but she always grows back.

(WEEPING)

It's hard enough being a Cyclops,

but if anyone found out about Susan, I'd be devastated.

(SINGING) Amazing grace How...

Whoa! Gross. Million-follower gross.

Fry, delete that. Delete that right now!

What? Oh. Okay.

(CHUCKLING) So much for a pleasant swim in vomit.

(COUGHING)

(WHISPERS) Send.

(COUGHING)

Did you delete it?

Uh...

Thanks, Fry, you're a good friend.

(SINGING) Amazing grace How...

(BOTH LAUGHING)

Hey, there she goes in the genuine.

Let's get to hooting.

(HOOTS)

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

If it ain'ts the world's number ones Internet sensation.

Where? Also, what?

(SINGING) Amazing grace... How...

(ALL LAUGHING)

- Play it one more time. - No!

It's humiliating and degrading to Leela. Play it 10 more times.

(SIGHS) I know I shouldn't have twitted that,

but not swimming in barf might ease my conscience.

But if Leela should find out, her dignity sac will rupture.

That's why we can't let her see this.

Leela, lock the door so Leela doesn't...

How could you do this? (SOBBING)

(INAUDIBLE)

Poor Mr. Chunks. At least he d*ed doing what he loved.

He's in a better place now.

There, I turned a regular board into a diving board.

Impending news, everyone.

We're about to learn the winner of the bet.

Oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy.

(WHISPERS) I hope it's me.

Wait a minute. There's a chance I could lose?

That wasn't part of the deal.

Sweet Georgia Brown of Kingston Town. It's a tie.

Since no one lost, no one has to jump.

All right, a tie! I win again!

I'm a scuzzball.

Don't feel bad. At least you're not Leela.

A tie?

This worked out better than I could have hoped.

Now I'll have two million zombies.

Actually, Fry and Bender may share some of the same followers.

All we can say for sure is that

there will be between one million and two million zombies.

All I can say for sure is...

Now, stop getting slapped and power up the twit-worm!

(POWER SURGING)

(BOTH LAUGHING)

It's both disgusting and inspiring, like Jared from Subway.

Okay, I'm a freak with a singing butt boil,

but I'm still a human being, more or less.

Singing butts boil? That's yesterdays's news.

Like that giant caterpillar what ate Jared from Subway.

Nows us Internet geeks gots a whole new video sensation.

So, my humiliation is over?

Who are you?

And now, to create an unstoppable army of between one and two million zombies!

Shouldn't you wait for the weather to clear up?

No. I give you the twit-worm!

Send.

I'm sick of my head doing things.

Leela!

Fry, I came to talk to you.

No, I came to talk to you.

It looked like you were just sitting there, but whatever.

I am so, so sorry for what I did,

and I know I can never make it up to you.

You don't have to apologize. In fact, I came to thank you.

I think you mean hit me.

Everyone knows my secret, but no one cares.

I have nothing to hide anymore.

Fry, thanks to your selfish rudeness,

a terrible weight has been lifted from my heart.

SUSAN: That's not the only place you need a terrible weight lifted.

(SUSAN GROANS)

Susan and I are agreed.

For the first time in our lives, we're not ashamed of who we are.

SUSAN: I was never ashamed.

Come here.

What stinks? Were you rolling around in New Jersey?

Leela, I knew I could never make it up to you,

so I did the next best thing.

I put myself through the same humiliation I put you through.

(SCREAMS)

(LAUGHING)

Aw. You didn't have to do that.

I didn't? Damn.

Don't worry. By tomorrow, no one will remember.

- Can I have another hug? - No.

SUSAN: Hold your nose and give it a go.

AUTOMATED VOICE: Introducing the all-new eyePhone 2.0.

(CHEERING)

Dumb bastards.