07x12 - Viva Mars Vegas

[bunniefuu]

♪ Two... two, three... ♪

7x11
- Viva Mars Vegas -

(whirrin)

(whoosing)

(Static, trilling)

(Whooshing)

(Whooshing, brakes squeaking)

(Chuckling)
(Trilling, expl*si*n)

(Engine revving, peeling off)

(g*nf*re)

It's over eight million bucks.

That's a lot of deniros.

(Engine revving)

Oh, this 'a Berry Berry bad!

Earth's boring.

I'll save us.

Let's go visit my parents

at their fabulous casino
in Mars Vegas.

(All voicing assent)

Take that, earth!

Look out, penny slots.

I've got a system.

It's to put
all my money in you.

(Chuckles)

Um, Zoidberg,

maybe Vegas isn't the best place
for people like you.

What? It's full
of fat guys in sandals.

I just mean,

your money management skills
could use some work.

Like, the only reason
my family even owns a casino is

'cause we've kept
such a close eye

on our money for generations.

Bender:
You sure have!

No offense, Zoidberg,

but maybe you'd be better off
if you stayed behind.

Oh, yes, better.

A lonely weekend in my dumpster

with a jar of
pennies and tears.

Sounds good. See you Monday!

(Engine revving)

Better ditch
the loot somewhere.

Hey-yo, how about that dumpster
down there?

You mean the one in that alley
off 72nd street?

Yeah. What do you think
I'm pointing at?

(Sirens blaring)

Bender: Mars Vegas, here we come!

(Whooping and cheering)

(Gasping and groaning)

(Sirens blaring)

(Peeling)

(Engine revving)

(Sighs)

God, it's Zoidberg.

I hate to bother you, but...

(Retreating engine revving)

Okay, okay, I'll shut up!

(Clinking)

(Crowd chatter)

This very lucky casino own.

Someone wins one million dollar
every hour!

Usually it us.

33 black.

Everyone lose.

Oh, man.
(All sighing)

Oh!

I can't help noticing

a lot of your employees
are native Martis.

Yeah, they a proud,
grouchy people.

(Rowling)

Well, they do work
for minimum wage

in a land that was once theirs.

Yeah, but they never made
wise use of the land.

When my ancestor
Reginald wong found them here,

they had no bingo parlors
and only one prost*tute.

Pfft. Pathetic.

This here the buffet.

Ooh, perfect timing!

It's the weekly changing
of the shrimp!

(Flies buzzing)

(Squawking)

(Elevator bell dings)

Way up here's the money.

It's Mars' happiest place on earth!
(Giggling)

This much money could feed
a small, starving planet.

But it doesn't!

Ah. Oh! Oh!

(Mutters)

(Clinking)

I'll just reach down
and get that.

(Laughing)

(Sniffing)
Something don't smell right.

(Screams)

Don't mess with blind Joe.

Nothing get past
his sense of smell.

Yeah, that's why he in here.

Guarding galaxy's
most secure safe.

(Beep, trilling)

(Loud, metallic clacking)

Every day at 3:45,
we load in the daily take.

This whole place is
finely tuned machine

for separating suckers
from their money.

(Alarm sounds)

Woman (Over P.A.): Category-five
sucker now arriving.

(All seaming)

Woman: ♪ the minute you
walked in the joint ♪

♪ I could smell you were a man
who was stinkin' ♪

♪ a real big lobster

♪ fresh shellfish

♪ you give me a rash

♪ ladies love a decapod
with clothes made of cash ♪

Woman: ♪ then let me get
right to the point ♪

♪ I don't boil my pot
for every crab I see ♪

♪ hey, rich lobster

(roars) ♪ blow

♪ your wad of cash on me.

Zoidberg, what are
you doing here?

And what's with all the money?

It's my eight million dollars.

God gave it to me.

(Laughing):
Oh, come now!

God didn't get to be God
by giving away money.

Ah, loosen up.

You can't take it with you.

Now I'm heading down
to the casino,

and I'm taking
my money with me.

(Door closes)

This is why
you never see a poor person

with millions of dollars

eight one-million-dollar
chips, please.

I think that's about eight.

Everything on 34.

Amy:
Zoidberg,

what are you doing?!

I don't know.
I think it's called roulette.

Martian roulette dealer:
34 red.

You win $288 million

(excited chatter)

Let it ride!

(Shocked gasps)

Martian roulette dealer:
34 red.

Ten billion,
368 million dollars.

(Hushed murmurs)

Vodka with a sardine
in it, please.

In fact, vodka
with a sardine all around!

(Applause and cheering)

And let it ride!

(Shocked gasps)

Stop! At least set aside a
billion for a decent apartment.

No! I'm having fun
and a sardini!

Martian roulette dealer:
15 black.

(Sighs and groans)

Now that's the God I know.

Zoidberg, what is
wrong with you?

You just threw away a fortune!

Ah, easy come, easy go.

But for one brief moment,
I made everybody on Mars happy.

And if you ask me,
that makes me a winner.

(Staticky squeak
over P.A. System)

Woman (Over P.A.): Category-five
loser now departing.

♪ hey, big lobster...

(Laughing)

(Grunting)

I'll make th simple.

Our money or your life.

(Coughing)

Sardini?

I'm telling you the truth, I swear.

Clamps, break something
over his head.

Everything in here's
already broken.

Find the least broken
object and use that.

This Judith Krantz novel's
only missing its frontispiece.

Ow! I told you,
I spent it in Mars Vegas!

All eight million dollars!

He can't be lying', boss

not after a krantzing
like that.

All right. Then I'm
afraid we must k*ll you

and dispose of your body
in the nearest dumpster.

This one we're in
seems pretty close.

(High-pitched screaming)

Aah!
Aah!

Oh!

Joey:
He's full of ink!

Whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo,
whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo.

Whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo.
(Silly groaning)

(Sighs)
We should have brought a g*n.

(Groaning)

That was one hell
of a weekend in Vegas.

Dude, where's my ship?

I parked it over there.

Well, I don't remember
much, but I feel fine.

Oh, my God!
Amy's mirror got a tattoo!

Oh, luckily, we're prepared
for this eventuality.

(Trilling, whirring)

Hermes:
What's that?

A tattoo-removal laser?

(Chuckling):
Oh, , Hermes,

you and your
preposterous Sci-Fi nonsense.

No, this is simply
a translucidating ink polarizer.

It aligns
the pigment molecules,

channeling photons through
and rendering the ink invisible

ah, so it's less painful
than regular tattoo removal.

Nobody said that.

(Screaming)

The robot mafia's after me!

You got to hide me,
or it's curtains for Johnny Z.

Hide a Gia lobster
covered in ink?

And how do you propose
we do that?

(Groans)

(Screaming)

(Groaning)

My God!

He was so saturated with ink

that his entire body structure
was polarized!

Zoidberg:
You mean I'm invisible?

No, no, no. Not in any
sense of the word.

But essentially, yes, entirely.

(Banging on door)

Man:
It's no use, Zoidberg.

We're, like, 85% sure
you're in there!

Where is that rat?

Zoidberg's:
Zoidberg's not here.

All right, but if you see him,

give him one of these...
(Fist hits, Zoidberg groans)

...and one of these...
(Fist hits, Zoidberg groans)

Give and not one of these.
((Loud crunch, Zoidberg groans)

Come on, clamps,
let's go, and watch out...

there's some sort of smelly
air pocket over here.

Well, that's that.

We ain't getting our money
ba from this Zoidberg.

Hey, boss,
this here casino looks

like it makes lot of money.

Maybe the mafia should get
involved in the casino business.

What are you, an idiot?

Pretty much, yeah.

Then you won't notice
when I claim

your idea as my own.

Come on,

let's go take over this casino.

Leo:
Fore!

Mr. wong, we have
a mafia proposal for you.

Your casino... give it to us.

Okay, fine, I just retire
to my fabulous mansion.

(Giggles)

Hey, boss, ain't that
the type of mansion you like?

(Sobbing): Oh, Amy, the mafia
took everything we had...

our casino, our home,

and our collection
of rare servants.

Don't worry, mom, you can
always come live with me.

No, we can't.

Who do you think been
paying your rent?

What's rent?

(Dog barking)

Okay, we're at the dump.

Where should we
heave this stuff?

It's not a dump.

It's the company housing
we built for our employees.

Only place we can afford now.

Just drop it here
on this bloody mattress?

(Crickets chirping, dog howls)

(Siren wailing in distance)

(Sobbing)

Thanks, tissue ghost.

Zoidberg: You can't
afford tissue any more.

This is Walgreens brand
nose paper.

Zoidberg?

You snuck in here
while I was taking a bath?

No, you snuck in here while
I was grabbing a bubble cake.

(Chomps, burps)

Listen, Zoidberg,
I owe you an apology.

No, no, no.
Go ahead.

I was condescending to you
'cause you were poor,

but now I realize
it can happen to anyone.

I'm sorry.

I appreciate that, Amy.

Is there any way
I can help, maybe?

No, I don't see how...

Wait, don't see.

That's how you can help.

There's one sure way
to set everything right.

We'll use your invisibility

to pull off a daring
and complex casino heist.

Of course, because no one can
possibly know what I'm up to.

I've summoned you to the chart room

to explain how we're going to break

into the casino vault,

steal millions of dollars
from under the mafia's nose,

and return the casino
to its rightful owners.

Questions?

Um, how come we've never been
in this room before?

I think this chart
will answer that.

Now, the heist.

As you know,
the main vault is here

in the counting room on the top floor.

But your dad said it's
the galaxy's most secure safe.

Yes, but they open it every day
at 3:45 to load the take.

Then Zoidberg walks right in
because he's invisible.

(Overlapping chatter) Well,
that, that just might work.

Zoidberg: Over here with the donut.

But the money's not invisible.

If the mafia sees stacks
of cash floating out,

won't they sh**t first
and ask questions later?

Not if Zoidberg eats the money.

Everything he swallows
turns invisible.

Zoidberg:
Like so.

(Chomping)

Then later we just retrieve it
at our convenience.

Hold on, that much cash
would weigh over 300 pounds.

How can Zoidberg walk out
with that much weight?

And he may be invisible,
but he's not insmellable.

He stinks like the
inside of a tauntaun.

Won't someone
notice the stench?

No, and to keep you
on your toes,

I'll explain why only after
the heist has begun.

The key to the whole operation

is the casino's shrimp buffet.

Today is Friday, the day the
week-old shrimp get hauled off,

so the stench should be
just strong enough

to mask Zoidberg's presence.

(Sniffs) Ew, what's
bringing the stank?

It ain't my gambling diaper.

I just changed it.

Must be the shrimp.

It's working.

Zoidberg, what are you doing?

Sorry, I'm just so hungry.

Don't spoil your appetite.

You need to eat
300 pounds of cash salad.

Amy:
At precisely 3:40,

the Hazmat team arrives
to swap out the shrimp.

(Muffled grunting)

Meanwhile, ten floors above,
the vault is being opened.

(Sniffs)

Something don't smell right.

Eh, shut your nose.

It's just the shrimp cart.

(Elevator bell dings)

Zoidberg: Oh... I think
there was something wrong with that rotten shrimp.

Stop griping.

Now get in there, and remember,
eat everything in the safe,

especially the little metal box.

That's the most valuable thing
of all.

Three, two, one.

Oh, no, our cart!

We count on that
for our job that we do.

Pew.

Joey, you got fingers, right?

Help me fix the lady's wheel.

Amy:
Once our man's inside,

we'll need
to distract the Donbot

so he doesn't close
the safe prematurely.

You know, I think I'll close the
safe a little prematurely today.

Whoa-ho!

Don't shut that door, partner.

I'm a cr-razy Texas
robot millionaire,

and I plan on losing
billions in your "casiny."

Eh, can you assure me
my losings will be safe

in this here money closet?

Yes. Please step aside.

(Shudders)

(Quietly): Four-alarm chili.
Four-alarm chili.

Hello! I'm prime minister
Nelson Okeke of Nigeria.

I trust you received
my spam e-mail?

Nelson, thank God
you're here, Hermes!

(Zoidberg moans, gulps)

Oy, so full.

And I still have
to eat the metal box.

(Groans)

(Gags, moans)

(Gulping)

(Belches)

As you can see by
my jeans and hoodie,

I'm a young Internet
billionaire.

Help! I'm sick!

I can't move at all!

What was that?

Uh, I said
"aseeka kanamoo atall."

It means, uh,
"we must leave now

in an unusual manner."

It means, uh,
(Men grunting, Zoidberg moaning)

I'm enjoying the
casino business.

You meet a lot of
colorful characters.

Okay, you're good to go.

Get this bubba dump
out of here.

(Men grunting, Zoidberg moaning)

Okay, push "roof"
and we're home free!

(All gasp)

Fry:
Zoidberg's too heavy!

The elevator's dropping!

Change of plan!

We'll have to leave
through the main exit!

(Elevator bell dings)

Everybody say
"fresh shrimp!"

Zoidberg:
Oh... that was a rough ride.

(Burps)

Uh-oh.

(Zoidberg burping repeatedly)

Look!
The shrimp cart's paying out!

(All clamoring, Zoidberg burping)

(All straining)

Keep going.
We're almost outside!

Zoidberg, try
to just burp up singles.

(g*n cocking)

Fry: (Gasps)
Blind Joe!

Smell with your eyes
what I see with my nose.

(Blows puff of air)

(All gasp)

Well, well, well,
what have we here?

Seriously, what is that?

It's whoever or whatever

just emptied out your safe.

Allight, sh**t him, blind Joe.

And let this be a lesson
to any other albino lobsters

thinking of robbing our casino

(g*n cocks, trills)

There ya go.

Don't sh**t!
I have a deal to offer you.

Sorry. We native martians aren't
so crazy about deals

with the wong family.

That's because you don't know
the original deal,

the one my family kept
secret for centuries.

That's because you don't know
the origin(Giggles, retches)

This is the original contract
signed by Reginald wong.

It stated that my ancestors
would hold the land

for a hundred years,

after which it was supposed
to revert to the martians.

This casino belongs
to your people!

(Natives cheer)

But Amy, you planned
this whole thing

to get the casino back!

Yes, back
to its rightful owners.

Now just a hold-on minute.

This casino is wrongfully ours.

Security!

Escort the trespassers

to one of the desert's
finest holes.

With ironic pleasure.

Let's go, trespassers.

Hey!
What? Hey!

Hey, what are you doing?
Take it eas'!

Well, we lost the casino,

but thanks to Amy's kindness,

the martians gave us
ba our house...

And our other casino.

Zoidberg: So what happens to the
hero of our story, Zoidberg?

Will I be invisible forever?

No, only until you take a bath

and wash off
this invisible ink.

So, forever.

Aw, come on.

U can use the spa tub
in the high-roller suite.

Zoidberg:
♪ Hey, big lobster! ♪

♪ Take a little bath with me!