07x06 - The Butterjunk Effect

[bunniefuu]

Well, what'll it be, folks?

Tap water or bottled?

Whatever.

Kif, you pick.

Oh, oh, it's always
so hard to decide.

Um, uh, tap.
I mean bottled.

Bam!

Ooh, I love your boots, Leela.

Nobody would ever guess
they're knockoffs.

How could you tell?
I guessed.

They're at it again.

Please, Fry.

Girlfriends always
talk trash to each other.

Like how I might say
I like Amy's dress

'cause it covers
all her tramp stamps.

Knock it off, Fry.

It's when women are
polite to each other

that you know there's a problem.

Exactly.

Now, enough about who is
and who isn't a Chinese skank.

We're just two happy couples
on a double date.

Let's go! Let's go!

We've got to get these moon rocks

to the moon by moondown.

Why are we bringing moon rocks
to the moon?

Oh, those lunar crybabies
claim the rocks

were stolen by the Apollo astronauts.

They consider them part
of their cultural heritage.

Nice work, Leela.

You're really pulling your weight.

Which is saying something.

Ow!

You're using the rocks
to build a wall?

What about your cultural heritage?

You bought that cultural
heritage hoo-ha?

What a bunch of big-city dummies.

At least the rocks are light here.

I don't even need my

over-the-shoulder Boulder holder.

With one-sixth gravity, you can work

and be lazy at the same time.

It's like being a voice actor.

Say, you nose-breathers
want to come see

some real moon culture,

come on down to the
butterfly derby tonight.

Wait, the butterfly derby is when?

And what?

The low gravity lets them nice ladies

flap every which way,

so long as they only wear light,
skimpy outfits.

It's a necessity of the sport, it is.

This is actually quite elegant.

It's not what I was expecting.

Ladies and gentlemen,

please welcome the meanest things

on gossamer wings...

The Murderflies!

This is what I was expecting.

So, uh, what are the rules
of this sport?

You see that there?

That's called a floor.

Once a butterfly hits that,
she's out.

Last team flying wins.

Super swatter!

Keep your eye on the ground.

That's where she's going to land.

Yep, called it.

And now, for our weekly
amateur flapdown.

Do we have two volunteers

to go wing-to-wing
with the Murderflies?

Winners get 50 bucks
and the accolades

of dozens of hooting hillbillies.

What do you think, Leela?

Judging from your t*nk top,

you love getting hooted at
by hillbillies.

And you could use the $50

for another gallon
of hello kitty perfume.

The bicker sisters teaming up?

Talk about
cat women on the moon.

Okay, enough of that already.

We're not really fighting.

Then prove it... by fighting.

All right, we will.

Come on, Amy.

Why don't you and I

ever do things together?

This is hard.

Now I know why butterflies
are always so grouchy.

Please welcome
tonight's volunteer victims:

Turanga Leela and Amy Wong!

Hang on.
We're not quite ready to...

You girls have moxie.

We're going to b*at it out of you.

Amy, remember when we tried
out for the rockettes?

And we failed because we accidentally

kicked those two rockettes to death?

Yeah. Why do you bring that up?

Oh.

We'll teach you
not to lose immediately.

Announcer:
Super shocker!

Yay. They can move their arms.

Congratulations to our gutsy,
non-paralyzed challengers.

Ladies, that is the kind

of can-do performance
I like to see...

From my new butterfly derby team.

Which is what
I am offering you to be.

Because I'm the commissioner
of the butterfly derby.

I'm Abner Doubledeal.

Hello.

But we lost.

Why would you want us
to join your league?

We're always looking for fresh blood,

and you girls are full of it.

You two could be the next big thing.

What happened to the last big thing?

Nothing that doesn't happen
to everyone eventually.

What is this, an inquisition?
You in or not?

Yes.

You spletcha.

And so began the fight career

of two skimpy outfits

and the feisty women who filled them.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Wingnuts!

And although sometimes
they got beaten,

other times, they got beaten badly.

But just when it looked

like they'd never win...

They didn't.

Well, we lost to all our opponents.

Even that team that turned out
to be us in the mirror.

It's time we gave up.

Yeah. I don't know what else

we could have done
to enhance our performance.

Hey, great job tonight, you two.

Here, got you some fresh nectar.

Whoa, that puts
the lead in my pencil.

Thanks, trainer.

Excuse me. What's that nectar
you're handing out?

It's a plant-based supplement

that bulks up your flapping muscles.

Want to try it?

You know you want to.

A chemical that can help us win?

That sounds great.

Mmm... I'm not sure.

Look, here's my disposable
cell phone number.

Think it over.
Give me a call when you're...

Hang on. I got to take this.

Hello?

We're ready.
Great.

You are not going to regret this.

It's a nice, clean way
to improve your performance.

And we just drink it?

Or...

Inject it between your toes.

Either way works, right?

Well... down the hatch.

Ah.
Ah.

Mmm.

A guy
could get used to this.

{pub}Once again,

Eternulax The Immortal,
dead at the age of 26.

Now here's Sportsbot 5000 to tell us

about two local gals,
Amy Wong and Turanga Leela,

who have won 15
butterfly derby bouts in a row,

even as rumors swirl
that they're juicing up

with the controversial
nutritional supplement

known as nectar.

Sportsbot?

That's pretty much it.

Riveting stuff, Sportsbot.

Yo, yo, yo.
What's up, ladies?

Uh-oh.
The bullies are back.

Leela, Amy, I like a
stalwart, feminine physique

as much as the next fellow,
but this nectar worries me.

You should be worried about this!

Boo-ya!

Easy, Amy, easy.

Professor, there's nothing
wrong with nectar.

It's all-natural.

So are carrots, but you don't see me

injecting them between my toes.

Uh, Leela?

I was wondering if you'd like
to go out with me again.

Maybe play some miniature golf
or colossal tennis?

Sorry, Fry.

I already got a double
date with arm and hammer.

Bender, you want to go
out and do something?

Oh, so now I'm your
last-resort Booty call, huh?

Okay, let's go.

That's my little sugar doodle.

Cork your face bladder.
I'm working!

Sorry.

I had that coming.

It's not easy being a derby wife.

The Wingnuts, ladies and gentlemen.

And that bloodbath takes them
to next week's finals

against our reigning champions,
the Murderflies.

Now, listen up.

I got a little boy
at home, and he's dying.

Dying to see me k*ll these two.

Oh, your son's going
to die all right...

But from neglect.

'Cause you're going home in an urn.

A funerary urn.

Hey, trainer, we got
a big bout next week.

Juice us up.

Sorry, gals. I'm all out.

These two just bought
my entire supply.

You're going...

Down.

And she doesn't even
want to cuddle anymore.

She just wants to hit me
with various chairs.

You're lucky.

I can't even get Leela
to verbally abuse me.

All right, listen up.

We're out of nectar,
and we need a new source.

Uh, dearest, perhaps this would be

a good time to consider
possibly drinking

just a little less...

Say, why don't you just
have Kif get you some nectar?

It comes from a flower
on his home planet.

You mean it's ocephalus nectar?

Oh, my. Oh, dear.

It's found
in a rather remote region...

Just play along.

This could be our chance for romance.

Come on, ladies.

Let's take a little trip
to Kif's planet.

We'll gather some nectar, and
have a nice, romantic weekend.

Just the four of us.

Let's go already!

Wow! It's the second most
beautiful thing I've ever seen.

Hey Leela, want to know what
the most beautiful thing is?

No. Let's get hopped up.

Greetings eco-tourists!

I am the grand butterfly
curator... this week.

Yeah, yeah, you can teach us
to respect nature later.

Right now, we've got
some flowers to suck dry.

Suck 'em, burn 'em... as long as
they're not butterflies,

I don't give a grand crap.

But take heed!

For you see, it is mating season.

Whatever you do, you must not
disturb the aggressive male.

He can be identified
by his orange coloration

and enormous butterjunk.

What's he gonna do,
migrate at us?

Silence!

I can't be specific about the danger,

since if something different happens,

I might be liable for damages.

But believe me,

you'll rue the day you came
to the butterfly preserve.

Well, enjoy the butterfly preserve.

Okay, bye.

Come on, come on.

Let's find those flowers.

We'll split into teams.

You mean couples?

Eh? Eh?

Nice job smacking Kif.

Dude had it coming. Wait.

I think I smell nectar.

Way ahead of you!

I don't even know
why we're helping find

an addictive drug for
our mean girlfriends.

Quiet, they'll hear you.

The male butterfly.

It's gorgeous!

Let me get my butterfly hammer.

Bender, no.

That park ranger explicitly
gave us a vague warning.

Look, the hammer's already out;
I got to smash something.

It smells like a skunk
stuffed with feta cheese.

P.U.!

Thank God I don't have a nose.

We can sleep at my parents' house.

I'll just buzz and let
them know we're here.

Mom, dad, I'm sure you remember

Fry, Leela, Bender, and of
course my fon-fon-ru, Amy.

Welcome to our home.

One of you stinks.

That'd be me.

Wait, you're flies.

Don't you eat excrement?

That's a day at the beach
compared to this.

Listen, I'm just gonna shower
this stuff off and go to bed.

Wait.
Don't take a shower, Fry.

You smell kind of nice.

Uh, sm... yeah.
Huh?

No hanky-panky.

Everyone sleep in separate rooms.

Good night, Kif.

Night, Fry.
Huh?

Keep your door unlocked tonight.

But McGruff the crime dog says... oh!

Come in.

Hey, smelly-pants.

Leela?!

Leela?!

Amy?!
Amy?!

I'm done polishing my ass, Fry.

Here's your toothbrush back.

{pub}You just hop into bed
with my boyfriend?!

And you!

As God is my witness,
I'll never forgive you for this!

Hey, just 'cause he's your boyfriend

doesn't mean you get him
all to yourself.

He's mine! There's nothing
more to talk about.

No, no, keep talking.

Um, Amy, I hope I'm not
out of line, but...

Shut up, Kif.

How dare you talk
that way to my Kif?!

This planet's got it going on.

Sweet orgy of Georgia!

Have you girls gone wild?

That's Fry you're macking on.

Hmm. It seems Fry's
inexplicable sex appeal

is due to the butterfly
pheromone he was sprayed with.

But Amy and Leela aren't butterflies.

Right?

No, but thanks to
the damned butterfly nectar

they've been swilling,
they might as well be.

The nectar causes
their bodies to produce

female butterfly hormones,

building up their flapping muscles,

but also making them
irresistibly attracted to Fry.

The only way to end this madness

is for the ladies
to quit, cold Turkey.

Whoa, whoa!

Let's not shock their system.

Maybe they could just go warm Turkey?

No, the Professor's right.

We have to quit the nectar.

I agree.

This has to stop.

My guts feel kind of weird.

I'm not surprised.

Those pheromones were
highly concentrated.

Oh, I think I'm getting
a little... caterpilly.

All right,
let's get this party ended.

We did it!

We kicked nectar's butt!

I don't give a crap!

Kif, I'm sorry for

making out with Fry
so loud and often.

It's all right, dearest.

I know it was just
the nectar talking.

And groping.

Well, looks like Fry's three-way
is down to a one-way.

If he's lucky.

Hey, where is Fry?

Amy, Leela! What are you doing
at your place of work?

Your match with the Murderflies
is about to start.

Moon-ladies and moon-men,

presenting the defending champions,

the queens of hostility
from the sea of tranquility,

the Murderflies!

And now their opponents:
The vixens most horrible

from the big blue marble,
the Wingnuts.

Everybody k*ll everybody!

Well, we're not on the juice anymore,

but what's the worst that can happen?

Since this is a championship match,

we are gonna need some lava!

Wait. Hot lava?

Amy, if we get k*lled,
I just want to say

it's been an honor riding the
roller coaster of addiction

and recovery with you, as a team.

How could this not be hurting you?

I once k*lled a sea turtle
with these boots.

Hold me.

Oh, no. Oh, no.
Oh, no, no. Oh, no.

Make a wish.

My God!

Fry has metamorphosed
into a gigantic butterfly!

He's even more beautiful than before!

Ooh, what is that sexy stink?

Oh, cripes!

They're mating!

Ladies and gentlemen,

I am so sorry for allowing
this lurid sex act

to taint an otherwise delightful
day of family-friendly v*olence.

That is some freaky
bug-on-bug action.

I feel a little left out.

Is Fry going to be okay?

I don't think so.

He's grown all these
strange insect parts,

and he has absolutely
no brain activity.

Look!

He lost the strange insect parts.

He's back to normal!