This story is a parody of the Sean Penn movie "The Assassination of Richard Nixon". If you haven't seen the movie, read the story anyway, because I said so.
The mob of Lucy Liu lookalike robots showed no sign of tiring as they pursued Fry into a darkened alley. Just as it occurred to him to stop running and surrender, he woke up.
"Uuunngh," moaned the young redhead. "I must be the only guy in the 31st century who gets hung over from Slurm." He yawned, stretched, and didn't feel any better than before, so he yawned and stretched again. After the fourteenth yawn and stretch, he managed with tremendous exertion to pull one of his legs off the mattress and land his foot on the floor.
Bender, bright and chipper as ever, had already seized the day by leaning back on the couch and activating the TV. "Next on The Today Show," announced the preserved head of Meredith Vieira, "we'll talk to a man who's devoted his life to the legalization of spinach. But first, a word or two from our sponsors."
"Head Off. Apply directly to the forehead. Head Off. Apply directly to the forehead. Head Off..."
Bender looked aside, and an image even more gruesome than the one on the TV screen appeared before his lightbulb eyes. Fry's face was a mask of stubble, his hair resembled a chunk of unruly coral, and his faded boxers were barely clinging to his waist. "Mornin', gorgeous," said the robot.
"Oh, man," grumbled Fry. "I can't believe how groggy I am."
"That's easy to explain," said Bender. "It's your body's way of telling you it's time to go to work."
Fry glanced at the digital clock on the wall, which read 0900 hours. "Oh, crap," he said in a raspy morning voice. "I unintentionally overslept again."
"Overachiever," said Bender mockingly.
Within seconds, Fry was scrubbing his back, brushing his teeth, and flossing his teeth simultaneously. "Leela is gonna kill me," he mumbled through the toothpaste foam.
"Meh," said Bender flippantly. "She's cool. She'll let you off with a slap on the wrist."
"You really think so?" said Fry, squeezing into his blue jeans. "Gosh, maybe she'll hold my hand while she's slapping me."
Into the cluttered living room scurried Robopuppy, yapping wildly. The little cyberpet hopped up and down at Fry's feet, prompting him to say, "Cool, I've got voice mail!"
Robopuppy fell back on its haunches and emitted beams of digitized light from its eyes, which coalesced into the form of Leela. "This is an automated message," said the cyclops officiously. "If you are listening to it, then you have just been fired."
Fry turned to his robot friend. "It's for you, Bender."