06x20 - Neutopia

[bunniefuu]

♪ ♪

Well, we're bankrupt
in six, five...

Four, three...

Two, one.

And we're out of business.

Good news. We're
back in business.

We've been hired
to deliver an envelope.

It's crunch time.
Let's do this.

(Groans)

It's for you, Professor.

Great delivery, everyone.

You're the finest crew I've
had the honor to work with.

Oh, my.

We're being foreclosed upon.

You're all terrible
and incompetent.

I resent that.

(Yells)

Wait, I found a loophole
in the mortgage.

If we actually pay it,
we can keep the building.

We just need...

$11 million.

And... boned.

Oh, I suppose there's nothing
left to do but move out.

Leela, Amy, pack us a lunch
for our new lives

under the bridge,
while us men reminisce

and smoke some stogies.

We are not packing lunches,

you walking beer commercials.

It was you men who drove this
company into the ground.

Remember Fry's idea to
offer free delivery?

It got us a lot of customers.

We're a delivery company.

If you want
to save this company,

you should listen
to a woman's idea for once.

Okay. What do you got?

An airline.

Yeah! What?

We should become
a commercial airline.

I mean, we've got a ship,
and teleporters

won't be invented
for another 15 years,

for a woman.
Professor: Fuff.

What else you ladies got?

(Falsetto):
Girls of planet express calendar.

Fry:
Girlie calendar?

Great idea, Amy.

Okay, then.
Leela, Amy,

come to work topless tomorrow.

Forget it. I promised myself

I wouldn't pose naked
until I was married.

Sorry. It's in your contract.

"All female employees must
pose nude if requested."

That's discriminatory.

No, it's in all our contracts.

Here's mine.

"All female employees

must pose nude if requested."

Sounds fair.

Totally on the up-and-up.
Nice work, Hermes.

Now that's what I call
fine print.

Okay, but good luck
making a girlie calendar

with only two female employees.

Hmm...

Oh, husband.

I'm so excited
about this new job.

And it's excited
about you, Labarbara.

First order of business
is to put on your uniform

and take your ID photo.

(Through com-link):
Look, I agree

it'd make spacewalking
more comfortable.

But for a photo sh**t,
it's a little...

Unsavory.

Over.

Time is money, peaches.

Now shut your com-link and
make love to the camera.

And remember, I'm the camera.

♪ ♪

Stop actually washing

and play with the sponges.

But the ship is dirty.

Eh, whatever.

I ran out of film an hour ago.

Professor:
No, no, this won't do.

A three month calendar?

What is this, mercury?

I told you it wouldn't work.

Well, you should have
talked louder.

Fortunately, I came up with
a brilliant idea

to save Planet Express.

We'll turn it into a
commercial airline.

But that was my idea.

Then you should have
talked louder. What?

(Power tools whirring)

There. It was hard work,
but it beats posing

in demeaning, skimpy
modeling outfits.

Ladies, here are your demeaning,
skimpy stewardess outfits.

(Women groaning)

Beep. Beep.

Beep, beep, beep, beep,
beep, beep, beep.

Sorry, ma'am,

I'll have to confiscate
your artificial kneecap.

Okay, here you go.

(Groans)

Fry (Over speaker):
Ladies and gentlemen,

this is plane's
president speaking.

We are cleared for takeoff.

You put goofus and ganja
in charge?

I'm the only
trained pilot here.

Oh, please, Leela.

Who ever heard of a plane
with a woman president?

Welcome to plan am
flight one to acapulsar.

The local time on acapulsar
is five years from now.

In the event of a wormhole
sending us back in time,

do not k*ll your parents.

If you are traveling
with small children,

help them not to k*ll you

before not k*lling
your own parents.

Now please turn off
all electronic devices.

(Power winds down)

Uh, preparing for takeoff.

I'll k*ll you, my friend!

(Shouts)

I hope you all enjoyed
our tiny beverage service.

Now sit back and endure
our in-flight entertainment.

Hiya, hiya, hiya.

So what's the deal
with airline food, hmm?

They offer you two choices,

but they're always out of one.

By the way,
we're out of both choices.

(Passengers grumbling)

Shut up and put on four episodes
of The Office.

Refrigerator:
Ooh, your hands are warm.

For a robot.

Thanks, baby.
I don't know

what you're doing back
here in the galley,

'cause you got a
first class seat.

(Both chuckling and moaning)

Captain, we were supposed
to land two days ago.

Is everything... hey!

(Gasps)
Are we at the fair yet, mommy?

We're not at the any place.

And we're out of fuel.

(Sputtering)

Attention, passengers.

Please remain seated until the
plane comes to a complete crash.

(All screaming)

Perhaps we should reconsider
the girlie calendar.

Flight attendant's log:

We've crash near a river of mercury

on a lifeless mineral world.

Supplies are low, cannibalism
imminent, radio busted.

Our one hope is to
form a society.

Okay, then. Men,
let's get hunting.

The womenfolk can cook
what we catch.

(Men cheering)

No one put you
in charge, husband.

I'm the only one here
who ever ran a society.

Roller derby is not a society.

Well, let's put it
to a vote, then.

All in favor of the
jamocha thunderclap?

That would be me.

(Women cheering)

Practically no one.

All in favor of me?

(Men cheering)

Eight to eight.
It's a tie.

We can't trust a woman's math.

Count again.

(All bickering indistinctly)

Greetings, soft ones.

Who among you is your leader?

Men: He is.
Women: She is.

Curious.

You are a diarchic society?

Um... maybe.

Whatever we are,
I'm the leader of it.

Leader? Fat man, you
couldn't even run a bath.

Well, you sure can run
something... your mouth!

(All bickering indistinctly)

Silence.

Even a young pebble could see

your race is divided
based on the configuration

of your 23rd chromosome.

What?
You mean along gender lines?

Gender?

Yeahs.
You knows guyses, galses,

in that order. Ows.

I am not familiar
with this concept of gender.

My species has only a single
gender, known as neuchacho.

Interesting. Come on, men.
Let's k*ll him.

(Men murmuring in agreement)

(Men groaning)

Your genders differ
in many ways.

But, as with all things
that are different,

chocolate and vanilla,

Mac and PC,

one is always clearly better.

Chocolate, Mac, men.
The end.

Well, I've got nothing to do for
the next eight million years.

Therefore, I will administer
a series of tests

to determine
the superior gender.

Test number one:
Who can drink the most sulfur?

(Croaking gasps)

Test inconclusive.
Test number two:

Who can drink the most arsenic?

Just ask us some
damn questions.

Very well. Which is larger,

an Italian size four or
an American apparel medium?

How many calories are
in a small green tea yogurt?

Name any 12
of the desperate housewives.

How was your day?

(Women cheering)

Test complete.
What is the score?

Uh... men five, women less.

Hey. He's lying.
Obviously.

That was a test
to see who could lie better.

The men win that round.

(Men cheering)

In your face,
decumbent urinators.

(Bickering indistinctly)

So far, I have learned nothing.

But that's probably
as much my fault as yours.

The time has come
for the final test.

We usually call it
the lightning round.

As you may have noticed,
it's getting hotter here.

(Murmuring)
It's nice.

(Men complaining)
Too hot.

Did one of you chicks
change the thermostat?

Tomorrow morning,
this planet makes

its closest pass to the sun.

You will all be boiled alive,
like retired circus animals

unless you somehow can cross
the great alkali plains

and reach shelter in
the cave of harmony.

That sounds hard.

Whichever gender

reaches the cave will survive.

And may the inferior gender

burst into something.

Flames, I guess.

Uh-oh.

I think we're walking
in circles.

I recognize the pattern
of striations

on that gypsum formation.

Also my shoe that fell off.

Oh, God.
We're all gonna die in agony.

Howdy there.

You fellas need
some directions?

No, we're fine.
Don't worry about it.

(Panting)
Keep it up, sistren.

Only a few more Miles
to the cave.

Let's just buckle down and...

Oh, look!

A clearance sale!

What?! Where?

(Women shouting excitedly)

(Crickets chirping)

Labarbara:
I believe that sale was just a mirage.

Now we're gonna die
without so much

as a factory-second clutch
purse to show for it.

(Sighs)
It would have been nice

to shop at Tommy hilfiger
one last time.

It wasn't Tommy hilfijigger.

It was linens 'n things!

The hell it was.

It was a juicy couture.

I guess we all saw
what we wanted to see.

We can't make it tonight.

We'll set up camp here
by this shoe.

Oh, gentlemen,
when that sun rises

in the morning, we're toast.

These are
our last moments together.

So if one's got
any good fart jokes,

now would be the time.

(Groans)

It's a shmundred degrees,

and all we have to drink
are non-diet sodas.

(All grumbling)

It's gonna ruin my figure.

It, I forgot

that amana here
is a refrigerator.

If we could supercharge her
freon with a gas compressor,

we might survive the heat
and make to the cave.

Hey, yeah!

But the only gas compressor
on this planet

is inside bender's ass.

Was that a fart joke?

Because I don't
find those amusing.

No one does.

Nevertheless,
bender's gas blaster

may be our only hope.

(All snoring)

(Gasps)

(Gasps)
Wife?

What are you doing
with bender's

shiny metal gas compressor?

None of your bizmarkie.

Wait a second.

What's that doo-wah
in your ditty bag?

Uh, uh...

Okay, so we were hot.

I stole amana's freon coil

so we could hook it up to
bender's ass and build a cooler.

(Gasps)
You are no better than me,

you shifty tree skink.

How do you live with yourself?

Damn it, woman, you're
making me highly selassie!

Oh, don't you talk
to me that way,

you big, hairy Belafonte.

(Both moaning)

(Snoring)

(Sniffs)

(Sizzling)
Oh, you're cookin me back bacon.

Thank you, woman.

Labarbara (Gasps):
That's not back-bacon!

That's your back bakin'!

Oh no! We overslept!

(Liquid bubbling)

The Mercury river is boiling.

(All coughing)

Can't breathe...

Lungs burning...

(Screaming)

My lucky shoe!

Good-bye cruel me.

(All gasping)

I learned that from a movie.

(All gasping)

(Rumbling)

I find both genders
supremely disappointing.

The real reason I administered
this bizarre, outer space test

was to teach you
to work together.

But you couldn't.

Thanks to you, I lost my
bet with the borax kid.

Never bet against me being stupid.
Enough.

Your gender differences have
kept you from achieving harmony.

There is only one way
to resolve this conflict.

(Yelling)

Wait, why didn't that hurt?

(Shrieks)
My wingwang's gone!

My girls!

My antennae!

My kajigger!

My gonopores!

Look it up.

I have freed you from
the tyranny of gender.

Now go in peace.

Or actually, stay here.

I'll go in peace.

Good news, neuchachos.

The ship is nearly repaired.

Work goes fasters withouts no
secondary sex characteristicses

at which to hoot.

Now who wants to sings
some Christopher cross songs?

(All agreeing)

Look, associates, I made a
hammock from our clothing.

How industrious.

Do you mind if we
sleep with you?

I have no opinion.

Well, good night.

(Snoring)

Hermes:
Everyone got along so well today.

Yes, this place is like
a neutered utopia.

A neutopia.

I enjoy humor where
no one gets hurt.

Your companionship
is inoffensive, Hermes.

Likewise.

Really, what are we missing out on by not
having sex right now?

Well...

Give us back our genitals!

Is that you, borax kid?

I've got your 50 bucks.

Oh, it's you.

Why do you want your genders?

You seem happier without them.

Being human isn't just
about being happy.

It's about loving,
and fighting,

and that rasta mcnasty
we were doing last night.

We want that back.

Very well.

Perhaps it is I
who have learned a lesson--

or something.

Bender:
Now what?

I have decided, after little
thought, to return your genders.

(Yelling)

(Groans)

Not cool, bro!

Our genders are all reversed.

Now I got a whatchacallit
instead of a kajigger,

you stupid whatchacallit!

(Angry yelling)

Okay, stop yelling at me.

It was an innocent mistake.

Allow me to rectify it.

I got your distress call and
came as quickly as I wanted to.

No need to thank me.

What's your problem, homes?

Now we'll be stuck
like this forever!

Chill out, dude.

Well, hello from the neck down.

(Girlish giggle)

Thank you for your patronage.

We know you have a choice
in airlines,

and you made the wrong one.

No refunds.

Aren't we going to cuddle?

Woman, I'm tired.

I'm sorry.

It's just...
I need my sleep.

I gotta get up five times
a night to Xbox.

I understand.

Womanhood also takes
some getting used to.

For example, did you know there
are more than two feelings?

I only need one feeling--
love for you, wifey-man.

Ooh, your manwich!

(Zipper zipping)

No wonder it's such
a mess in there.

These bad boys are hard to aim.

I hate being a man.

I smell bad, my face
is scratchy,

and the food at those
strip clubs is terrible.

Crappin' a.

Still, I'm sure the women are
having an even harder time.

(Laughing)

O.M.G.!

Being chicks is so much fun.

Now when I say stupid things,
guys all laugh and buy me stuff.

Ugh. What a skank.

Anyway, planet express
is still facing foreclosure.

There's no way
we can raise enough money

to save this company.

Wait. What about
the girlie calendar?

Fry:
Well, that won't work, remember?

We only have three women
on staff... (Gasps)

"All female employees must
pose nude if requested."

And it is requested.

Let's just hope we can sell

enough of these calendars
by tomorrow.

Professor: We sold enough of those
calendars since yesterday!

(Cheering)

Thank God most of our fans
are huge perverts.

(Rumbling)

(All gasping)

Who are you, stranger?

Well, madam,
folks call me the borax kid.

My friend,

the other rock alien,

d*ed without setting
your genitals to right.

So I reckon it's up to me
to sex you up proper.

All:
Huh?

(Excited chatter)

My girls are back!

Ow!

Yay!

So what did you like better, my
love being a man or a woman?

I don't care what parts I have,

as long as they
interlock with yours.

Ah, marriage.

It combines the contentedness
of being neutered,

with the occasional sex
of being not.

(Steamboat whistle blowing)

Well, I best mosey
on down to the landing.

Sounds like the feldspar queen
is about to set sail.

You folks watch
your genitals now.

(Rumbling)

And that's that.

What I miss?