(ˆ·.(ˆ·.(ˆ·.(ˆ·.(ˆ·.(ˆ·..·ˆ).·ˆ).·ˆ).·ˆ).·ˆ).·ˆ)
It wasn't long after when the entire Planet Express gang headed right back to work, for even to incinerate the remaining fakes, they still had several days' worth of outgoing deliveries to send out. Though having so buoyed their spirits since that sordid Bellevue business, even that challenge was one to welcome with relish.
Bessie and Amy to handle business upon Captain's orders, granting he and her a chance to hang out in Mess Hall.
"Sucks that we couldn't save ya entirely, Thomas, but how ya been holding up anyway?"
"Still I breathe life's sweet air, even if missing an arm and all's takin' getting used to. Hell, never felt this capable even with both, so that's a bonus." He'd then slap his head in jest, "Awww damn it, I knew we had a chance to break out the confetti!"
"Heh, I don't think so; still have plans for that yet. And how's the head; doing okay as well?"
"Y'know, I can't claim my head's the full dollar yet, but, I'm only short a dime or two nowadays rather than all those quarters—never have I known, nor believed I'd experience that. Dunno what'd possess you to pilfer that sandwich, nor of the parasites I surely host, but again I'm indebted to you."
"Let's just call it another adventure, another episode of my unremarkable life. And never mind any 'debt', just keep doin' what you're doin'. Oh, just in case, here's another gold ring."
Eyebrows to raise, while he'd twirl it on, "Not sure I should, Captain. That's an adventure I'd much rather—"
"Don't think I'm denying those burdens you dealt with. However, it's not completely over who you're thinkin' of."
"Ohhh, right, yes. Hopefully a better man while sober, but still gotta keep eyes and ears out for Brannigan."
"Exactly, and don't bother. Especially to know he's been making moves lately, none of which I like."
"And speakin' of menaces, reckon we could pencil in an all-hands meeting, usual place? Lord knows nobody'll like it, but can guarantee we're gonna hate what's to come if we're caught unaware."
On a handshake, heard the promise of having the Chief know of personal concerns; first thing next morning, would find himself wishing good mornings and giving apologies to a tired, bored crowd; a quicker delivery he hadn't known.
"Straight to business, and wretched affairs at that, it's with memories raw and heart in throat, in which I advise that Zookeeper's back."
That to sit everyone up straight; a name they hadn't heard in years, yet never a clearer statement of his return, and of his intent.
"Worse yet, we're bound to be back on his radar, AND he's aware—at least in part—of our secret. As such, I'd say we're destined for invasion; don't know how or when, but we're gonna need a greater spread, daresay round-the-clock defences if all else fails."
"Mon, dat depends on what yuh gave to 'dem."
"Only my stash at home Hermes, but it was the biggest hit. Needless to say, if he fears a certain return as much as he claims, forget merely ruining what remains of us… He'll stop at nothing to put us beneath the ground."
"Many have tried, many have failed. Always a bigger badman out 'dere."
"Unfortunately, we don't have the 'luxury' of knowing such a being, though Gods forbid they take care of him, and we end up owing THEM a favour instead. Only one fella I think might stand up—emphasis MIGHT—out of benevolence, even if a self-serving, shits and giggles one…"
Caught in a pensive stasis, he'd cross arms over his chair, "And all over a damnable act, all he's done to this day is drift through our abyss. So, if anybody's got other ideas, then I'm all ears."
Virtually the moment he sat down for hearing crickets, Leela to breathe a great sigh, clear her throat, and stand herself.
"I never told anybody this, but there was a truth I've kept all this time, a promise made to myself, that I'd act upon to know about Fry's fate."
"What's on your mind, Captain?"
"All those stories about airlocks and castaways, Thomas? They were lies, well, half-truths; though I never forgave his ultimate backstab, never could bring myself to banish Bender so unreservedly—even to torpedo him by total accident became an episode I'd rather forget. Wherever his escape pod's landed, it's been the last we'd hear outta him since."
"Well, a start's a start, I s'pose. Professor, what's the size of the universe that you know of?"
"Potentially infinite, but of what we can observe right now, 93 billion lightyears or thereabouts."
"Right, and ballpark figures, any idea how many planets we gotta search to find Bender again?"
"A number even I can barely wrap my head around, so I sure don't expect you to have a chance."
"So very stupidly high then, got it. Don't think we've got THAT much time; any way we can narrow it down?"
"I can try to axe Bessie," Leela claimed, "but I can't promise a result. Don't recall what I did since ejecting the bast—ex-friend; possibly, had all logs of whereabouts wiped."
"Anything's better than nothing. What else have we got besides that?"
"Let's say the last time he'd end up lost, was only found again by sheer dumb luck, maybe divine will. Tried the Smell-O-Scope, never had an offensive odour. Prayers were useless, and the carnival Gypsy was much more so. Finally, even the radio telescope we'd 'borrow' in the Himalayas didn't get us anywhere."
"Soundin' like the story of our lives lately. But if we've no other options, Ma'am, then please do so as soon as you're able. We'll try to brainstorm scenarios without him while we wait."
Words of false hope, from the get-go; nobody else to know a soul so enigmatic, putting it charitably, and even if he could've sworn to confronting black furry critters in jumpsuits—omnipotent ankle-biters, as they were—they had long left him be for reasons known only to them.
Professor to almost call time when their sliver of fortune would return—believed so at first, only to watch nails burrow into her head.
"Of all the planets in all the galaxies in all our universe..."
"Uhhh, you alright Ma'am?"
"Sorry kid, there's only bad news—Bessie believes she's found a match, but only on Chapek-9."
"Wait, what do you mean that's bad news? I'd say that makes things so much—"
"Easier?" A chortle and clap of hands, to stare the Chief's way. "Only 'cause you've never been there, Maybeck. Although we're allies—term I use loosely—it's only by accord of trading hopeless humans where they hunt them for sport. A fate, I might add, you came SO close to deserving."
"Well Farnsey, long as we're being frank, I can't tell you how often tempted I was to just tear your dusty arse limb from limb, after all the games you'd pull. And yet, we're still here. Moving on, anyone got ideas how to infiltrate without incident?"
Captain would rise again; idea about to burst out, but the more spoken of it, the greater her reservation.
"We mightn't need to, but it's gonna be dicey. When I'd couple up with Fry, I'd get targeted ads about this great resort outside our galaxy. Course, couldn't hash it out, to never get time off. But then, on a night walk of ours, we'd pass by a Build-a-Bot on West 34th. Long story short, we'd recreate ourselves—tapes and all—had them replace us as temps, and presto, best vacation ever."
Story to leave him in stitches, especially after Farnsworth's indignant shout, "Now THAT'S why you're Captain. Who knows, might even create armies or encourage our new friends to form their own; even I can't imagine them to suspect—"
"Thomas, please, try to get a hold of yourself. To anyone but their own, they're a solitary and hostile lot—we give 'em a reason, they won't overclock themselves in proving our worst nightmares."
"Then I guess we'd better create a few backups, and go from there. Also, who's gonna help us handle Bender, if we cannot?"
"I'm your mon, mon."
"I don't think so, my good bureaucrat—way too valuable here."
"Yuh think I can't handle myself, bwoy? I'm not the one missing an arm, the one with yuh job in my hands."
"Regardless, I can say I've survived the worst of delivery work, and you haven't. Even to disregard THAT, it'll be us few against I assume thousands of those guys. I dare not disrespect whatever battles you've fought, but if you end up in the dirt, so do we."
"And if our slogan still means anything"—Leela'd raise a pointer—"we're the expendable ones. And I don't see you limboing your way through the daily hunts, devious traps, constant patrols and lack of 'justice.' Swear I'd sooner be a kid in Cookieville again."
"Alright fine, forget it, I won't come with."
"Appreciate it. Say Thomas, you mind if I axe you something?"
"Shoot, not like I can block both my ears."
"Criminal genius or not—she'd frown—he never cared a damn for the distant seconds in his life, which'd often include us. So why risk our lives to bring him back, more fiend than friend, when we've already done so well without him?"
"Because as exactly that wildcard, he's not as predictable—sure you'd be loath to remind me of how. And if we can better appeal to that selfish nature, I'd bet he'd rise to the occasion with relish."
"Pal, I could count all his finest moments on one hand, and still keep a couple fingers. In a fraction of that time, you'd achieve the same, and I'd argue much more."
"I appreciate that, really do… But maybe, he's waiting for his moment to shine, like you'd offer me."
Zoidberg, without warning, would then clack claws, "And who better to beat any sense into him, why not, with a good miracle rub or two? Could always use a chance to blow off steam."
"Huh, yet another good idea from the crab," she'd give a dumbstruck look. "I must be back in Universe B again or something. Alright, but maybe as a last resort; will try my best to compose myself beforehand. Ladies, gentlemen, Operation Rodriguez is a-go."
With hands in and hearts lifted, all crew and colleagues to then iron out details and plans, or at least rattle off concepts of each. The gist was simple enough; create measures for infiltration, locate Bender, persuade him back home, and then leave never to return.
Any way he could slice the situation, though, heaven knew they could never be ready, no matter how thorough they were able to prepare.
(ˆ·.(ˆ·.(ˆ·.(ˆ·.(ˆ·.(ˆ·. Three days later… .·ˆ).·ˆ).·ˆ).·ˆ).·ˆ).·ˆ)
She didn't have the heart to tell him, that avoiding the ire of the iron men was a virtual impossibility, and that all-out war WASN'T a matter of if.
It'd be after final meals and goodbyes, a setting in of crew's fists, that she'd finally set their course for Chapek-9, with the shakiest foundation they were able to build. Robot clones to share everything of theirs save for their insides—subtle nicks of her knife, a story of 'unprovoked' attack, to believe they'd stay alive.
Memories to burn of having set foot upon this planet; under skies of permanent night, lands of olive green flats and drab grey apartments, they sought to rescue Bender in disguises far less convincing, long before his douchery became so persistent and problematic. Years later, would state without hesitation that even she considered herself lucky to escape.
Since then, through negotiations that left DOOP's leaders on tenterhooks—Amy'd tell her through Kif—both they and the Elders to ink a landmark deal—in what was dubbed 'trimming off the surplus', terms to transport any and all criminals upon conviction.
Worldwide, millions, perhaps tens of millions, to wind up boarded and dumped with not even a good luck; causing quite the spike as well, a judicial ruling to label the jobless just as condemnable. Better fighters since by virtue of practice and bloodlust, even without numbers, to leave even her on edge.
Least of all her co-pilot and especially Mayfield, whose leaks might've become slicks to encounter those enforcers, blockades, and cameras one by one. The first two to stretch ever skyward, the last to seek out heat—even getting through without argument, to not ease his spirits any.
Especially to rediscover the posters and billboards; propaganda of their Anti-Human Patrol, and twisted takes on their "Got Milk?" campaign back home.
"What in the WORLD did we ever do, to cause this kind of hatred?"
"Be quiet, idiot! There's a reason we had to land twenty miles outta town—gonna be part of the statistic if we end up exposed."
Onward and onward she'd lead their walk, caring not for feeling lost in case any calling out tipped any bot off. A situation not helped by her Officer, so anxious now it'd attract the attention of a concerned local.
"Pardon for asking sir, but you realise it's not normal to leak oil as fast as you are?"
"Oh geez, figures I'd make a friggin' mess of myself. Don't worry, fellow, we were, uh, just on our way to a service station."
"You mean a workshop? Could always patch you right up with searing hot resin, it'd be much easier."
"That won't be… Actually, I think we would much appreciate that."
"No robot I'd know would hesitate even a second, against such an offer of help," it'd scratch its metal chin. Come to think of it, you really remind me of—"
"Yeah, about that, they died during a delivery about a year ago. Ambush, sad to say. Professor built us to replace them, at much cheaper cost—those humans, they aren't fans."
Grabbed her crew's arms as a showcase of proof, despite Mayfield's protests; it was enough though to convince that sceptic, even to fear the intrigue over the possibilities of posing as humans—how advanced could all intelligences get, so that even the lines blurred between artificial and human?
"A classic element of physical comedy, watching a human's face as their entire lives end up replaced. Even better when they're given no second chances, sent right here so we can leave them in flames, bruises, or if we're lucky, grievous Killamajig wounds."
Such a psychosis to shiver the crew then and there, but would steady herself, them with elbows, just in time.
"Sir, even as the superior species, one can never misjudge the numbers, especially if we're up against survivors. Matter of fact that's why we're here; hoped to find a friend who knew of tactics to take them on. Any chance you might've spotted 'em?"
A fear of being found out as she dug out a clipping of Bender, kicking an old lady whose purse was clutched in his rotors, at which point the local let out a little shriek—not as alarming as once recalled, however.
"Of course! You'd lead your original crew to stopping our lug nuts shortage, so many years ago. I'd compute that Bender would be most pleased to know you're here."
"Yeeaahh, that makes one of us. Hopefully we can hash a few matters out."
"Sure, and there's none better I believe. Ever since he'd end up here, been doing Mom's work; laying out traps, ratting out fleshbags, planning Human Hunt strategies… Proven so good in point of fact, put all his reward money into a Mayoral campaign, and won in an absolute landslide."
"Oh wow, once again with his political ambitions—this'll end well."
"Neither did we, but maybe then, he wanted to reprogram himself. Though it's strange, haven't heard a word from the other candidates since."
"Don't know him like we do, then."
"Only humans whisper, just be warned. Anyway, should be right down this block; there's no missing those quarters. Now I'd best not keep ya, happy hunting."
Back on the ship, she and they could only hiss around; Amy's palms to her mouth, Captain about to pull hair, and Mayfield biting his knuckles.
"They off their rocket? Voting in such a—"
"Oh Lord, it's Osiris-4 all over again."
"Grreeaat, gone from bad to worse. Who's up for a heist at Fort Knox instead?"
No doubt there'd be a heavy detail to handle, and no doubt for reasons they knew clear well—Bender had found his paradise, and perhaps more than anything they could offer.
"Well this has really boned us, hasn't it?"
"A good chance Captain, but we can still coax that selfish side outta him yet. A pursuit of greater power, of excess riches, of pleasures infinite, than whatever he's got now."
Their clones to find his home with next to no difficulty afterward; instant giveaway to discover floor upon floor of his badges, artworks, and portraits.
"And I thought the General had an inflated ego. Please, remind me to give my apologies."
Guards to then greet them, pose questions and warnings aplenty, and then send them through and virtually within touch.
(ˆ·.(ˆ·.(ˆ·.(ˆ·.(ˆ·.(ˆ·..·ˆ).·ˆ).·ˆ).·ˆ).·ˆ).·ˆ)
She would hear him clear as crystal, upon the approach toward a confrontation she'd long dreaded.
"Do none of you stupid peons remember my tenth Commandment? It reads, and I quote, 'Thou shalt not disturb Bender during His private reflection."
Apologies given and logic shared to matter not one bit; even from a distance, still saw the Mayor rant and rave, noticed steam whistle out with vigour.
"D'ohhh, fine, if again I gotta teach my ways, then let's get it over with. And stop reminding me of our hunts!"
That moment he'd finally turn, his square eyes catching her oval one, that flail was one she wished she could've recorded. Especially since he'd been chugging from a full decanter, now a pile of broken glass and mystery liquid.
A situation to rise him from his seat and, while granting a flesh-scalding glare the entire time, press down one solitary button.
"Clear my schedule, allow me privacy…"
Getting his wish, began searching his desk for what she'd believe was a cigar. "Seems the friends I never wanted care now for a reunion."
"That ship would sail, 'Mayor', in exchange for sending you here, and not outta my airlock. Or scrapping your worthless metal ass entirely."
A venom years in the making, to stop the search and send metal fists flying out, hoping to clean her clock; would've done, handily, were it not for well-calculated dodges. She didn't expect cordiality nor even civility—only fools would—but any secret hopes of avoiding a fight had just turned to dust.
"Gonna bite much more than that when I'm through with you. Now hold still and lemme shine that fat eye up for ya!"
"And now I no longer feel guilty about your exile. Well, if that isn't a weight off my shoulders I—"
"Shut the hell up! No abandoning traitor's gonna talk like that to me, Bender, and get away with it."
"For a creation without any, you've got a nerve. Surely, you've got files on leaving your friends to die, on scrapping your own kind just to rule them with iron fists?"
"What can I say, yoga pants, nothing's really a dump if it's not memorable and devastating. And those goody two-shoed jerks had it coming—especially THIS jerk over here!"
Officer's chin to then witness gripped up close, his whole body raised high, before they'd turn back to face her. "So this is who you'd insult my magnificence with? Me, Bender, replaced for this half-crippled, no-name punchline?"
"Still easily twice the crewmate you've ever been. But if that total crap were even remotely true, do you REALLY think we'd care to return here and come find you?"
Perhaps only this to release Mayfield, albeit with quite the clang. "What magnificence, Ben—"
"That's Mayor Rodriguez to you!"
"Oh dear, how ungracious of me. Especially when from the stories I've heard, evidence I've seen, not even that sash could delete your disgrace."
A hard shove to precede a point of malice, "You wanna lose a lot more than your arm, boy? Then respect the first of my Ten Commandments; 'Thou shalt only speak saintly of Me, Bender.'
"I've got your number one commandment right here!" would flex his middle. "And if I had BOTH my arms you can bet—"
"Shall I have my guards bring me your exact weight in nuts and bolts? For the last time, SHUT your mouth!"
Both to then advance forward, their heads to meet with a loud clank of metal.
"That I will not do, for you aren't whom I fear. We wouldn't have risked our arses, I'll have you know, if there weren't far bigger fish—a common enemy—we could use help with."
"Forget it, mirror-head, I'm not going anywhere."
"Tell that to the one you RAN from. To the one you'll never HIDE from."
"Say his name then, if you're so sure."
"I'll simply put it this way… Whatever you were told by that safari-suited son-of-a-bitch, all he ever cared to do was cause hell, create victims wherever he could. A hostile takeover, I'd wager, of what you're best at, regardless of what he calls it—you're just gonna sit there and let him waddle all over you?"
A headbutt to send Mayfield scrambling back, which'd then scramble her to get in front.
"You dare question rather than praise me? THIS is who I am now, after starting all over again from scrap."
"And you really believe Zookeeper's gonna let all this last forever, hmm? He's gonna keep his word just 'cause you're SO special?"
"For the last time big nose, I ain't going back, and you can't offer a single damned thhhhhiiiiii—"
A deft flick of his switch and that lord over a lout was shut down, allowing time to help her charge up before calling for a huddle. One eye or two, they'd never believed they'd dethrone Bender that easy; however, from such hostility, they now had a foundation.
"Goes without saying that he's washed his rotors of us, so to speak. I guess we'd better make it official."
"Good riddance Captain… However, before we do, why not twist those screws just a touch?"
"Leela, how sure are you that we're actually gonna convince him? We all heard what he said, there's no—"
"Amy, we're both programmed with memories going back years. Not so much the kid, mind, but with a good prompt or two, we can handle the rest."
Taking the time to scan what'd surround them, such as the lacquered desk, the cabinet of mystery liquid, and the walls of self-portraits, a smile'd flash across her 'lips' as she brought Bender back to operation.
"What's the big idea trying to sabotage my systems? You hoping to take me hostage or what?"
"Well girls, guess we're screwed, he's got us there," Mayfield would shrug. "Though really, I'd have to wonder what this vanilla life offers our wannabe dictator, which our 31 flavours on Earth could not."
"I know, I know; seems an awful shame to just sacrifice every desire he's ever had, and do nothing but work. Amy, you remember all his TV marathons, don't you?"
"Oh yeah Captain, and don't forget the booze and floozies either."
"A broad on each arm, three bottles in each fist—at his peak, could drink any place dry before the bartender served anyone else a shot."
Grins and titters between them, and her Officer to give an obsequious bow, "Were such legendary stories true, Your Majesty? You could make our worst drunks seem sober as a judge, without even trying?"
"Don't you brown-nose me! Though yes, I often did put the 'booze' in bamboozle, like that barbecue on Mars; downed a dozen whiskey shots AND bottles, before those stupid guests tasted a drop. But what does that matter, I've learnt to make do with mineral oil now."
A slap of knees to recall more, "A great time had by all, least until those sandstorms. Much like the time I'd speak of kids brewing beers in Cookieville; sprung his head right out the liquor store! Offered himself as a keg, and it became a literal labour of love. Quite sure he made an ale, right Amy?"
"No, I, no, I don't remember—might've been in the background."
"Come on, didn't I tell you? Think, Leela, think…" she'd click her fingers. Was a 'brau' of some kind."
"Lifter, Pusher, Puller?"
"Nah, sure that ain't right. But, no point keeping such temp files, let's clear out the space."
With a command and a series of electrical pulses, they'd leave the Mayor swearing a jarful, half caught between remaining, and returning to his seat. Couldn't be sure how well this ruse of recollection would work, but was glad to get such signs, as Mayfield then offered a palm.
"Your blessed grace, I beg of thee—didn't you once live the dishonest life as easy as humans breathed? Could've sworn those skills of yours could panic the steeliest heart, perplex the wisest mind."
"Did your circuits short when they made you? All before my Olde Fortran breakfast, I could steal a hundred purses, rig any race and game, and still have time to assault a senior home. Nowadays, there's a billion years of honest, moneyless living ahead; I'm totally over that now."
An extension of arms to readily betray him; attempts at picking pockets to get slapped away.
"Turned crime into an art form, had it down so cold," Leela nodded to everybody. The Picasso of pickpockets, Beethoven of bank robbers, Monet of mass mayhem… And yet, just let his name become a shadow now."
"Hang on Captain, think it's comin' to me!" Amy jumped. "It's Blender isn't it? It's gotta be."
"What, like blending in shadows? Pfft, he had your bail money, why bother? Welp, guess that takes care of more temp files."
The Mayor to witness glow red, true to plan, as more commands and pulses wiped more memories clean. Another prompt from her Officer, now a touch wary of the storms they'd been stirring.
"Ahhh, but Mayor Rodriguez, surely your mastermind scheming—all those sketchy businesses, side hustles and con jobs—had to exhaust you, right? And yet, I don't believe your friends allow any of Earth's broadcasts here… Would I be wrong?"
"Of course they don't, damn you! All I'm ever told is that Earth programming will degrade my circuits—is it wrong to wanna cook with Elzar, or enter the scary door, or,"—a gasp for realising—"catch up on Calculon?"
Paid the kid a sly look and knowing smirk, both paid back in kind: "And they were only the favourites. Why, our friend would even watch Root 2 to evade work, take any excuse or 'holiday' they could… Live an industrious life? I laugh at the very idea."
"Yeah, always was the 'self-service' model around HQ," Amy would agree. "More fool us to expect any different."
Bypassing their recycle bins entirely, the ladies to then tag-team and flay that first Commandment to ribbons, creating alternate realities that'd send Bender gripping his desk, no doubt leaving indents.
The war against Spheron-1 where he'd heroically house a bomb? That valiant losing effort against the Destructor, in his URFL debut? Adopting all those kids from Cookieville, giving chances at a real life?
Not a chance—instead, the 'facts' were thus; had kicked the bomb into the trenches, laughing while DOOP soldiers were blown apart, then threw his debut fight—pink tutu and all—and got booed to oblivion, and THEN upon signing his adoption papers, he'd just pocket the stipends and sold the kids as meat.
History rewritten in real time, to leave the Mayor grinding gears, fighting urges to terminate all three where they stood. While this was kept private, still had thoughts he couldn't help; taken quite a while to reprogram his only allies, ascend to a deity-like idolatry despite only being Mayor.
An experience she as Captain knew only too well, knew would prove his sorest point to exploit, and thus a worthy prompt.
"All this work you do, to wind up here, and yet it seems rather small bolts for some botty of your stature, yes? I mean, weren't the stories true that you'd once reign as Pharoah of—"
Bender to slam the desk and splinter it against the grain, bringing a sneer or three to the crew's faces.
"What would a useless upstart know of my ingenious planning, sneaking and mapping? Where one wrong move would no longer enslave my subjects? That day, I made sure our universe would realise my ultimate vision—me, Bender, with an entire PLANET under my feet."
A great guffaw had at this: "Oh dear God, THAT slice of life? How we would suffer under that tin-pot tyrant; carted them, pushed so much stone, suffered his lashings… Was just no satisfying them, why, those words ring in my head even today…"
Putting on a fake bass, her monotone of "Remember me! Remember me!" would earn her an even colder glare than upon re-introduction.
"But alas, that glorious statue got blown to pieces, just so we could escape. Problem to cross my mind since—remember who, exactly?"
To watch him roll back metal sleeves, almost go nuclear in eyeing them off, was to know that everybody had pressed every right button—one final command, to hear a whisper bordering on murderous.
"That's it… Over things I'd regularly done before, things you'd never claim were a problem, you decide to not only rub all I've lost in my face, not only wipe my proudest feats forever, but invent falsehoods that I'd instantly draw lines against? I'm gonna give you all thirty seconds, exactly thirty seconds, to get out of my sight, or I'll—"
Her quick bow, however sarcastic, "You're right Mayor, it was rather rude of us to educate you in reality, when you'd rather live your fantasy in peace."
Turned heel and walked, her crew to follow, which was when she'd address them.
"It's a pity though, was pretty sure Fry would've loved to see him, long as he could pay a jaw punch in reparation."
"Whoa, whoa, wait just a minute—what'd you say just now?"
At Bender's heightened antenna, her Officer to turn and snarl, "There's nothing else to discuss, so we're taking our leave, thank you."
"Answer me, or I'll personally put the three of you on trial."
"Kill us all, we don't care. In fact it'll serve as the only proof we need. But before you do, you actually wanna hear us out? Because it's only by my Captain's lifeline that I've been surviving, the same we're offering you in spite of all I've heard, and especially all they've experienced."
"Oh go cram a hair cream in it, you can't possibly—"
"This shit ain't growin' back, so YOU cram it. And on the contrary, we've the evidence to convince that Fry's not just alive, but in need of help."
Pocketable evidence—necklaces and locks of hair—as well as memories to bring Bender up to speed; grease to betray his very lenses, upon their total recall. The man who'd save his life, repurpose it beyond his own programming, he had paid back with death, enslavement at the hands of a human they made biopics about here.
"You fucked up Rodriguez, and that's fine, we all do. Hell, not for nothing I'd wind up ten centuries outta time, ten thousand miles from home. But I think I speak on all our behalves that we're done being victims, we're done taking Zookeeper's crap—that's why we need your help. All to 're-educate' a friend. No need to rush though, we'll give ya a few—"
Her wrist device to then suddenly claim it had gone to voicemail; hadn't noticed it buzz, as it'd happen in tandem with the roaring whoosh of ship engines—approach and landing imminent.
The voice however was all the tip-off they needed; with an impersonation of Tarzan that'd barely cut it in community theatre, General Zapp to make his presence known. And in realising his intentions—likely revolving around her—and hearing of self-proclaimed missions of peace, thought of abandoning hers then and there.
"Oh Leela, my princess of the stars! I come by victory yodel to free you from this forsaken planet; let's shut down these robots, shut up our mouths, and shut off our lights."
"You gotta be fu—"
"Let me guess, we're not in for good news, anyone?"
"Oh, no big deal, just that a certain fat idiot has only gone and started a war, and those robots think we caused it."
An unintelligible gibberish, and quite the cursing, to then escape her Officer's lips, before he got a hold of himself. "Well Mayor Rodriguez, looks as though we gotta run, so what's it gonna be?"
Sure enough, laser holes to begin piercing the thick wooden doors they'd enter through; mooks were nothing if not fast in trying to put saboteurs down. Facing real tastes of war, sending them ducking behind Bender's desk, they'd soon get his answer when he'd click locks under his chair.
No time to feel relief or worry, especially not once those doors hit the floor with a thunderous crash.