Futurama is brought to you|by Molten Boron.
Nobody doesn't like Molten Boron! The Problem with Popplers I hate the Moochers.
|They offer you a drink but their wallet's always|in the other pants which they borrowed from me! Dinner ready? The Moochers cleaned out our pantry.
All they left was baking soda|and capers.
And here it is! Great.
We're two days from Earth|with no food.
Fight to the death.
I'll cook the|loser.
Work his gut.
I like it tender.
Maybe that planet has a drive-thru!|Burger Jerk, Fishy Joe's or Chiseler.
No, we're a billion miles|from nowhere.
It probably only has|a Howard Johnson's.
A type-M planet, so it should at least|have Rodden berries.
I'm good at foraging.
|I found mushrooms on my bathmat.
I found some rocks!|You eat rocks, right? Not even sautéed in a little mud? Look! A ditch full of fried shrimp! Are you blind? Looks more|like a hole full of fried prawns.
This thing on my wrist says|they're not poisonous.
Well, how are they? They're great! They're like sex!|Except I'm having them! These would go great with rocks! Look! Here's more! - The planet's full of them!|- I'll take a few.
- No! A whole Bender-ful!|- Only what we need.
Stuff the ship! Planet Express ship,|you are cleared to land.
Roger! Oh, man! I'm inhaling these things! You guys scored some primo stuff here! They're tastier than a penguin nest.
|What do you call them? - No name yet.
|- They're tasty.
What about Tasty-cles? - Not that.
|- Why not? It sounds like frozen|mountain oysters on a stick.
You know, Test-cicles.
The only names not yet trademarked|are Popplers and Zittzers.
- We'll call them "Popplers"!|- Yeah.
Why not? - You picked it.
|- Swish! Call them what you want.
|I call them a free meal.
Slow down there, Sigmund! I can't stand poor people|getting free food.
We gotta sell these things! - Good idea!|- Bender's a genius! - Business is great.
|- Great's okay.
Amazing would be great! Don't push!|There's hot dogs for everyone! Where do you want those rat droppings|you ordered? You're not the guy who delivers|the rat droppings! Popplers? Never heard of them! Eat it or beat it! These are great! Boys, this is your lucky day!|I'm Joe Gillman.
- You're a guy who eats at Fishy Joe's?|- Hell, no! I am Fishy Joe! I've got a fast-food franchise|on every planet.
Except McPluto.
I wanted to write you about|the in-store kiddie parks.
- The slides won't support a robot.
|- Not interested.
But these are great! - How much?|- $1 a dozen.
You'll never make money.
|Supply them to me and I'll sell them for $2 a dozen.
|I'll even pay you $1 a dozen.
I'll be rich! You too,|but that doesn't excite me.
How do we sign? Pop a Poppler at Fishy Joe's It's a mystery|Where they're from no one knoWs Pick them, lick them, cheW them,|Stick them, if you Won't sue Shove one up your nose I can't pay.
That's the second billboard this week! Sorry.
I was distracted|by those protesters outside.
Unless this is a nude love-in,|get the hell off my property! You can't own property, man! I can, because I'm not|a penniless hippie! What do you want? We're with Mankind|for Ethical Animal Treatment! Popplers are living creatures.
|Stop harvesting them for food! - Or what?|- Or we'll boycott Fishy Joe's! You're vegetarians.
Who cares? Shut up! Animals eat animals.
It's nature.
No, it isn't.
|We taught a lion to eat tofu.
The point is, you shouldn't eat things|that feel pain - Okay, we won't eat you!|- I'll go get some more bricks.
I wish you'd throw out|these old Popplers.
They're getting big and scaly.
|There's one left.
Mama! Stop! Stop eating Popplers! - Why?|- My booze! Popplers are intelligent!|This one called me mama! Congratulations!|I assume Amy is the father? Popplers can't talk.
She's hallucinating from lack|of Popplers.
Eat some now! - No!|- I said eat! Come on, mangia! - Sorry, babies.
|- Maybe you should lie down.
Yes, listen to the father.
I'm telling you it spoke to me.
|Come on, little Poppler.
Say mama? Hearing one talk|doesn't mean it's intelligent.
- Parrots talk and we eat them, right?|- Maybe it learned as a parlor trick.
- Like Fry.
|- Like Fry! Like Fry! There's one way, and only one way, to|determine if an animal is intelligent.
Dissect its brain.
No! Mama! Stop Grandpa! Enough chitchat!|Restrain the specimen! - Good.
|- Give me some of that special sauce.
Stop eating Popplers! They can talk! Don't stop to talk! Eat Popplers! - Cut it out!|- Take a coupon! Cut it out! I won't let you enter! Popplers|are as intelligent as you or me! You, maybe.
Hear me, hear me! Stop eating Popplers! Stop eating them with honey mustard|sauce, tangy sweet and sour sauce! Stop eating the fiesta Popplers salad! Stop taking advantage|of the cheaper 12-pack! Stop enjoying Popplers on the patio,|in the car or on the boat.
Wherever good times are had Tonight on Date Night.
Popplers.
Eating them.
|Is it all right? With us, the CEO of Fishy Joe's,|Mr.
"Fishy" Joseph Gillman.
Noted anti-eating activist,|Free Waterfall, Junior.
And the Popplers discoverer,|Captain Taronga Leela.
- Taronga?|- That's her name, Philip.
Is it Wrong to eat|intelligent animals? Absolutely not.
|No one's here to make that claim.
- I am.
|- Me too.
We're talking about a snack|loW in fat and high in profit.
You're crazy, man.
He is crazy.
- There isn't evidence of intelligence.
|- Shut up, shut up.
- Not true.
This one talks.
Say mama.
|- Ca-ca.
We'll bleep that.
I'm not saying eating meat|is Wrong.
- No one's here to make that claim.
|- I am! - Eating smart animals is different.
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