"I can't take it anymore!" "They've been at it for hours!" "Give it a rest, you two! Sorry! Good morning, class." "I trust you've all prepared for today's final exam." "Uh, excuse me." "I missed a few lectures." "Uh, what subject is this?" "Ancient Egyptian Algebra." "What a nightmare!" "Mr. Fry, are those your underpants? Young man, I think it's time you learned a lesson... about Lightspeed brand briefs." "Lightspeed fits today's active lifestyle... whether you're on thejob... or having fun." "Lightspeed Briefs..." "Style and comfort for the discriminating crotch." "Oh!" "What a weird dream." "I'll never get back to sleep." "So, you're telling me they broadcast commercials into people's dreams?" "Of course." "But how is that possible?" "It's very simple." "The ad gets into your brain... just like this liquid gets into this egg." "Although in reality... it's not liquid, but gamma radiation." "That's awful." "It's like brainwashing." "Didn't you have ads in the 20th century?" "Well, sure, but not in our dreams... only on TV and radio... and in magazines... and movies... and at ball games... and on buses... and milk cartons and T-shirts and bananas... and written on the sky... but not in dreams." "No, sirree." "Quit squawking, fleshwad." "Nobody's forcing you to buy anything." "Yeah." "I mean, we all had commercials in our dreams... but you don't see us running off to buy brand-name merchandise... at low, low prices." "Hi." "Care to sample the latest fragrance... from Calvin Clone?" "No, thanks." "And you, sir?" "No, thanks." "L... What a lovely face." "We just need to draw attention... away from the eye area." "Cool." "Can I try these on before I buy them?" "I'm afraid I can't let you open the package... but you can try on the demo pair." "Ooh." "Ho-ho-ho." "Hey, Bender." "Great new sweater." "Uh, "new"?" "What sweater?" "I came in with it!" "I don't know you people." "$30, please." "$30?" "I can't afford that." "Unless..." "Do you take Visa?" "Visa hasn't existed for 500 years." "American Express?" "600 years." "Discover Card?" "Mmm, sorry, we don't take Discover." "Hey... he's springing for Lightspeeds?" " Pretty ritzy." " No, I can't afford them." "Being poor sucks." "What kind of world is this... where they advertise things not everybody can afford?" "Quiet." "There's an ad coming on." "Hello, shoppers." "It's me, Mom." "Hey, who's the rocker jockey?" "Guh!" "It's Mom... the world's most huggable industrialist." "Call me old-fashioned... but when my robot starts to squeak... like an old screen door, well, that's when I reach for a can... of Mom's Old-fashioned Robot Oil." "Ooh, tasty." "Mom's oil is made with 10% more love... than the next leading brand." ""Mom," "Love" and "Screen Door"... are registered trademarks of MomCorp." "Hey, Bender, sounds like you... could use a little of that oil." "Hamboned." "Freeze, scuzzbot!" "Uh, there's obviously been... some sort of a mistake here." "I'm sure there's..." "I say, I'm sure there's... That is, I'm sure there's... a very... reasonable..." "Do we have enough money to pay Bender's fine?" "78... 79... 79.50." "Crud." "We're 50 cents short." "I'd love to chip in, but Bender stole my wallet." "Hey, that's my old bank." "Maybe my account's still open." "Hmm." "We don't seem to have your retina scan... your fingerprint or your colonic map on file." "Yeah, well, I did open the account... over a thousand years ago." "What about my A.T.M. Card?" "Do you still remember your PI N number?" "Sure." "It's the price of a cheese pizza and a large soda... back where I used to work..." "Pinucci's Pizza." "Okay." "You had a balance of 93 cents." "All right." "At an average of 21/4 percent interest... over a period of 1,000 years... that comes to... $4.3 billion." "To Fry." "I know Fry's rich... but do we really have to wear these top hats?" "Maybe you don't understand just how rich he is." "In fact, I think I better put on a monocle." "Pizza dinner on me." "Just keep the tab under $50 million." "Yo." "I haven't got all day." "What kind of pizza yous guys want?" "Uh, yeah, we'll have, uh, one with everything but anchovies... and, uh, one with my all-time favorite topping..." "Anchovies." "Invalid selection." "Yo, what are you talking about?" "Anchovies." "You know... those little headless fish?" "Does not compute." "Does not compute." "I'm sorry, Fry, but the anchovy... has been extinct since the 2200s." " What?" " Oh, my, yes, fished to death..." "Just about the time your people arrived on earth... wasn't it, Zoidberg?" "I'm not on trial here." "So none of you has ever had anchovies?" "Oh, man, you don't know what you're missing." "They're all salty and oily, and they melted in your mouth..." "Stop!" "Stop!" "I admit it." "My people ate them all." "We kept saying, "One more can't hurt."" "And then they were gone." "We're sorry! I just wish I could have showed you guys... how great they were." "I may be rich, but I still can't buy back... all the things I miss from the 20th century." "Maybe you're forgetting just how rich you are." "Huh?" "Huh?" "So, what do you think?" "I know you spent a lot of money on this place, Fry... but it's awfully primitive." "The floors are made of such hard wood." "Hey, get a load of this pathetic 20th-century TV." "What's wrong with it?" "Well, aside from causing eye cancer... these things had a lousy, low-definition picture." "That's true." "On a TV like this, I bet you couldn't even... make out my obscene tattoo." "That's cute." "Sold!" "Yes!" "I just don't get it." "Who was this Ted Danson... and why would you pay $10,000 for his skeleton?" "I have an idea for a sitcom." "Ah, leave him alone, Leela." "So he's going a little wacko with his money." "That's okay." "You're just saying that... 'cause he bought you that antique robot toy." "Yeah." "It is cute." "Now, our final item:" "This unopened can... of Angry Norwegian brand anchovies, circa 1997." "Anchovies?" "The last known can in existence... guaranteed fresh and edible." "Do I hear $10,000?" "$15,000." "20." "30." "No, 40." "$50,000." "Are you crazy?" "It's a can of old fish." "Don't tell me how to spend my money." "50, going once, twice... $75,000." "Oh, my God." "It's Mom." "I've never seen her in person before." "$100,000." "Fry, you can't bid against Mom." "She's the richest... most powerful person in the world." "And she's so adorable." "Well, I suppose I could go as high as... $300,000." " 500." " Mercy me... a million." " Two." " Six." " Fourteen." "I can see the nice young man... really wants those little fish." "Nevertheless, I'll bid 23 million." "One jillion dollars." "Sir, that's not a number." "Oh." "In that case... 50 million." "Well, boys... your old mother knows when she's been beat." "You win, young man." "I tip my bonnet to you." "Oh, isn't she adorable?" "What a class act." "Sold!" "To the gentleman who bought every item... in today's auction." "Now for some good old 20th-century TV." "Ah." "Do you remember a time... when chocolate chip cookies came fresh from the oven?" "Petridge Farm remembers." "Oh, those were the days." "Do you remember a time when women couldn't vote... and certain folk weren't allowed on golf courses?" "Petridge Farm remembers." "Fry, are you there?" "Huh? You haven't been to work in three days." "What have you been doing?" "I've been sitting right here." "I picked up my life exactly where I left off... a thousand years ago." "Now, if you'll excuse me?" "It's 8:00, time to get busy." "# I like big butts and I cannot lie #" "# You other brothers can't deny #" "You can't just sit here in the dark... listening to classical music." "I could if you hadn't turned on the lights... and shut off the stereo." "Fry, this isn't healthy;" "you're living in the past." "I'm rich." "I can live whenever I want." "But we're your friends... and we live here in the year 3000." "Yeah." "Now, are you going to come to the squid fights with us... or sit here wallowing in your prehistoric junk?" "Junk?" "Maybe you can't understand this... but I finally found what I need to be happy... and it's not friends..." "it's things." "I'm a thing." "Just leave me alone." "Fry, please." "My ponytail's caught in the door." "I don't need them..." "Not when I have my antique videos... my bucket of fossilized KFC... and $50 million worth of anchovies." "Mercy me, what a day." "Could you shut the door, Igner, dear?" "I think I feel a draft coming on." "Holy crap, that bastard's itchy." "Walt, cream soda." "Right away, Mother." "Larry, get your mother a cream soda." "But Mom said..." "You heard me." "What's wrong, Mommy?" "It's those damned anchovies." "That dirtbag Fry must know their secret... and I won't rest until I get my hands on them." "No one messes with Mom." "Quiet, you." "As you boys know, one of the cornerstones of my empire... is Mom's Old-fashioned Robot Oil." "Think of it..." "ten billion robots... each one needing an oil change every 3,000 miles." "You don't have to do the math... to know that's a buttload of oil." "Can I wear your fat suit?" "No, Igner, put that down!" "Ohh." "What does this have to do with the anchovies?" "I'm getting to the freaking anchovies." "A single drop of the anchovy's natural oil... would lubricate ten robots permanently." "Wow." "It's a shame they went extinct." "No, it isn't!" "Shut your filthy clam!" "Thank you, Walt." "If anyone ever got hold of anchovy DNA... they could chop out the oil-making gene... stick it in a bunch of third world kids and bam!" "Cheap, effective robot oil... enough to put dear old Mom out of business." "My God, this Mr. Fry... must be a mastermind of the highest order." "Esther, you ugly." "We have only one option." "We'll have to bankrupt Mr. Fry... so he'll be forced to sell the anchovies to us." "Mother, you are one clever old scag." "And don't you forget it." "How are we supposed to get Fry's money out of the bank?" "That part will be easy, thanks to the nice people... at Mom's Old-fashioned Video Surveillance Unit." "Do you still remember your PI N number?" "Sure." "It's the price of a cheese pizza and a large soda... back where I used to work..." "Pinucci's Pizza." "It's the price of a cheese pizza and a large soda." "You know what needs to be done." "What?" "Get his PI N number, you idiots!" "Now I'm off to some charity B.S. For knocked-up teenage sluts." "Mr. Fry, it's those three plumbers you called for." "We're here to tighten your drains." "Ow!" "I didn't order any..." "Quick!" "Give him the tranquilizer." "That's a good boy." "Wake up, Mr. Fry." "Where am I?" "You're in the good old year 2000 working here at Pinucci's Pizza." "You fell asleep on the job." "Well, that sounds like me, but I thought I got frozen." "Wasn't I in the future?" "No, you only "dreamed" you were in the year 3000." "So I'm really back?" "Well, that's exactly what I wanted, I guess." "Who are you?" "I am Mr. Pinucci." "You are?" "Did-Did you grow a mustache since last night?" "No." "Now, go work the currency register." "I think I hear a customer coming." "I said, " I think I hear a customer coming."" "Oh, hurry up, please." "I want to get back to the head museum." "Don't worry, Miss Anderson." "This won't take long." "Now, your motivation is, you're back in the year 2000... and your head's still on your body... and you want a cheese pizza." "Okay, but I'm only doing this... so people will take my head seriously as an actress." "Hey, look... anchovies." "Of course." "They're not extinct yet." "And if you need further proof... that this is really a thousand years ago... well, here's contemporary actress Pamela Anderson." "Ooh." "Hello, Fry." "Remember me The Movie?" "Uh..." "It was the first movie... to be shot entirely in slow motion." "It hasn't been made yet." "Then he doesn't know I won the Oscar?" " Nope." " Crap!" "Wait." "You're Pamela Anderson." "Cool." "What can I get you?" "Oh, I'll have a cheese pizza and a large..." "Uh..." "line?" "Soda." "Oh, right." "Cheese pizza and a large soda." "Uh, cheese and a..." "That was quick." "So, what do I owe you?" "10.77... same as my PI N number." "Hey, you don't get to laugh." "Thanks a billion." "More like 4.3 billion." " Oh!" " Ow!" "Uh, I had a nightmare I was in the year 2000 and you guys never existed." "I'm so glad I'm awake now and you're really here." "Since when do you care about us?" "We thought you only cared about cans of anchovies... and stuffy old songs about the buttocks." "No, that's not true." "Good-bye." "Whee!" "This dream brought to you by Lightspeed Briefs." "Bender, Leela... don't leave me." "Wait a minute." "Hey, hey, buddy, what year is this?" "Uh... 3000." "3000?" "Yes!" "I'm still in the future!" "Life is wonderful!" "Wait." "What are you doing with my stuff?" "Uh, check bounced." "We're taking it all back." " Oh, no, my A.T.M. Card..." " 1077." "I've got nothing left." "Except... you're Fry's relative." "Do you have any idea how he got so crazy?" "Uh, what?" "Oh, they say madness runs in our family." "Some even call me mad." "And why?" "Because I dared to dream of my own race of atomic monsters..." "Atomic supermen with octagonal-shaped bodies... that suck blood out of you..." "Leela, Bender!" "I missed you so much." "You did?" "What happened?" "I was robbed." "They got everything, except these." "Who did?" "Hello, Fry." "It's Mom." "I felt terrible when I heard about your money troubles... and I thought maybe I could help out a sweet young man... by buying his anchovies." "Sorry, but the anchovies aren't for sale." "What?" "Listen, you little bastard..." "I control the robot oil business... and I won't let you ruin me." "How much do you want?" "You might as well put that checkbook away... because I've discovered something even more important... my friends, and they aren't worth even a penny to me." "That's why these anchovies are going on a pizza... so I can share the food I love with the people I like." "Holy hell!" "You're going to eat them?" "Oh!" "Well, just make sure you eat them all." "You're a growing boy." "Toodle-oo!" "Dumb ass." "What a nice lady." "Okay, my friends, get ready... for the most delicious extinct animal... you've ever tasted." "I don't know." "I've had cow." "Gross!" "Ick!" "Mm." "Eh, no one likes them at first... but they'll grow on you." "That stench..." "That heavenly stench." "More." "There aren't anymore, and there never will be." "More!" "More!" "More!" "More!"