Here’s a song that was beautiful when performed by my ancestor Art. We’re home. Let’s earn some bread. Get your love beads! Can’t journey to your mind’s center without them! Look at the colors! These will go great with my soul. Glad you like them. I’ve been making fine jewelry for years, apparently. I’ll take three! Give me one, man! I’ll trade you a bad poem! And now, stand up and turn on your hidden tape recorders for. Beck! Bender, the broken robot! Bender rules! Groove on, man! Rock it, Bender! That song doesn’t usually last three hours.

Dearest, meet bender. He’s a robot in the body of a Chinese Martian physicist. gilded cage for a day. You know, we could trade bodies. I could take over the humdrum royal stuff, And you could be a regular Joe for a day. Or more, much more. In that horrid non-robot body? Sir, I have my standards. In my fabulous bending-robot body? Me, posing as a lowly bending unit? a speech at the u. N. Tomorrow. Can I trust you to do it? You can trust anything. So now Leela’s all crotchety’cause she thinks I’m not attracted to her in the Professor’s body.

Dewey, you fool, your decimal system has played right into my hands. What do you want? I’m here to kick your ass! Wishful thinking. We have long since evolved beyond the need for asses. Odd. My stupefaction field is having no effect on you. That’s right! You’ll find a little knowledge is a dangerous thing! Better think of a new plan. Come on, think. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking hurts him! Maybe I can think of a way to use that. Prepare to be thought at! I can’t think of anything.