Oh, my hair!
Lot of weather we're having.
Allow me, my lady.
Shall we go a-trousering?
Fry, I appreciate the gallantry, but isn't this a bit much?
You're right. I'm sorry for showing my love.
Okay. Fine.
Here, take my hand.
News and weather, everyone.
I'm sure you've all noticed the bizarre atmospheric conditions of late.
Come to mention it, yes.
It seems something ain't right in the magnetosphere,
so I'm launching this high-altitude
weather balloon to gather more data.
My pants! My lucky pants!
They don't look so lucky to me.
They are, too!
I was wearing them that time I found a dime in my ear.
I was wearing them when I won a subscription to redbook.
And I was wearing them when I first met Leela, so yeah, they're lucky.
Also... oh, lord.
Plus, they're my only pants.
You've worn the same pants for 1,000 years?
No wonder they made a run for it.
Whoo!
Soon your trousers will slip the surly bonds of earth
and ascend to the heavens.
I'm gonna blast that balloon!
No way will I let god get my pants!
Nobody messes with my pants!
Not even the holy one, blessed be he.
Look out! A central park badger!
I'll save you, pants!
Scruffy, do you have any varmint grease?
What viscosity you need?
Whoa, there's writing in here!
Also, this grease is flammable.
Incredible! Who could have done this, the sewer mutants?
No, this isn't mutant language.
- We use a lot more profanity. - Son of a...
Leela, take my hand!
I'm slipping!
The one time your hands aren't sticky, they're greasy!
Oh, sorry. Normally I would've wiped them on my pants, but...
Are you okay?
My leg, it's broken.
How'd you get down here?
We made a rope from my shirt and jacket
and an expedition flag from my underpants.
I'll help you up. Here, take my hand.
Stop telling me to take your hand.
Look, fry, your noble gestures keep making things worse.
Can't you just be a rude, unhelpful jerk like bender?
When I use up the toilet paper, I don't put on a new roll.
Fry, my friend, I found your pants.
And no sign of that crafty badger.
All right! Lucky pants!
Oh, my god! Look what my flashlight found!
Dr. Zoidberg: A huge pyramid under new New York?
What badger could've built this?
And look at this intricately carved disk.
It merits years of study.
But how can we move such a fragile, precious...
Ancient history coming through!
No, no, no, no, no!
Amazing!
It appears to be some kind of extremely ancient calendar,
predating even the girls of sumeria.
Of course. It's a Mayan calendar.
No, wait. There's some dried-up old stew on the screen.
Sorry. I was eating a can of breakfast and looking at porn.
Amy: It's not Mayan, it's martian!
Amy, you grew up on Mars, right?
Can you read martian? A little.
I only learned enough to yell at my nanny. Let's see.
I think it means, "the sun will erupt,
"all shall perish," blah-blah-blah.
Get to the point! What does it say about me, bender?
Nothing! But it does say a great cataclysm
will destroy the world in the year 3012!
The world? That's where I live!
Told you it'd say something about me.
So the world will end in 3012.
Why does that year sound so familiar?
Because that's the year that's this year! See?
So, you all done with the computer?
Is it just me, or is the world ending more often these days?
The calendar predicts fires, earthquakes,
sharksplosions, then it just ends!
Exactly as the weather balloon foretold.
Before fry blew his pants out of the sky,
it detected the onset of a catastrophic sunspot cycle.
It's starting. This is the end of the world.
Coward man away!
Some of us were crazy before it was cool.
Evacuating the planet in three, two...
So long, earth. Thanks for nothing.
It's not starting.
Come ons, comes on!
Let me try, headless clone of agnew.
Damn thing just won't turn over.
It's like pat on a Sunday morning.
Oh, the marconi is on the Fritz, too!
The electromagnetic storm is disabling all electronics on earth.
Hi, there.
Well, it wasn't a bad life.
If only I could get back that time I spent watching tron: Legacy.
Leela, I've made up my mind.
Before we die, I'm gonna find and destroy
every remaining copy of tron: Legacy.
It may take a couple of hours, but...
Fry, stop trying to do things for me.
Whatever time we have left, just live it with me.
So, you want to join the balcony club?
The balcony club? I have an individual membership.
Zoidberg, get lost. I am lost. So long.
Stop the end-of-the-world sex. We might survive after all.
All right, Amy, what's so important
that you interrupted my embalming?
I translated more martian symbols.
There's a way off this planet.
That underground pyramid isn't a pyramid,
it's a rocket ship!
It was worth waiting five hours
to hear you finish that sentence.
A spaceship made of stone? With no electronics, it just might work!
I'll stick with wind-up power, thank you very much.
Hmm. I've never flown a pyramid before,
but I used to drive around town in a mausoleum.
How many people can this thing carry?
Well, the mausoleum held 10 horny teenagers, so...
Maybe 30,000.
It's our moral duty to save as many lives as possible.
They had their chance. Let's go!
Brannigan: Mind if I appear?
Welcome to the hidey house.
Brannigan, tell me about this freaky-deaky escape pyramid.
I can fly it, sir. I just need to know where, and how.
The obvious destination is Mars.
It's close, with lots of open space and no woodward or Bernstein.
That's a plus.
But we can only save 30,000 people. How do we choose who goes?
Well, let's see now. We'll need leaders,
Scientists, doctors, bureaucrats, pilots,
valuable appliances, even janitors.
But that's it. No one else.
I'll miss you, Leela.
But it's okay, 'cause then I'll die.
Nixon: Cut the waterworks, hippie!
The final decision will be made not by me,
but by a cold, logical machine.
Who shall live and who shall die?
Step right up to the contrabulous choose-matron!
I hate waiting in line to die.
Move it along, grandma.
Stick your hand in and take your chances.
Choose-matron: Female, crotchety. Needed to keep others in their place.
Accepted!
Damn straight, kajigger!
Ooh, me next!
We just got one of these. Rejected!
Male, scientist, fond of crazy contraptions.
Accepted!
Female, scientist. We were in the same sorority.
Accepted!
Sigma beta, see you later! Sigma beta, see you later!
Male, medical doctor, delicious with butter and lemon.
Accepted!
I wish they'd hurry.
I want to get out of here before the mayhem starts.
Mayhem? There's gonna be mayhem?
I'm staying.
Hoo-ee!
Well, might as well get it over with.
Delivery boy, no discernible skills.
Accepted!
'Cause I like his pants.
Yes! My lucky pants!
Leela, we can go together after all. Come on.
Get your badge. Take my hand.
Top gun pilot, natural leader, extreme combat training.
Rejected!
What?
With all spaceships inoperable,
we only need one spaceship pilot.
Wonder what this doo-cracky does?
Snake door. Roger.
You can't reject Leela! Give her a badge, you stupid box!
Male, filthy hand, violent temper.
Accepted again!
Fry, the box has spoken. Go to Mars.
Okay.
Will you at least keep this photo?
Remember how bender dumped all that pig's blood on me?
You keep it. I'll remember you in here.
I wish I could remember with my boobs.
Leela, we're off to Mars.
We'll see ourselves out.
Wait, I did it. I got Leela a ticket.
How did you do that?
Ah-ah-ah. A magician never reveals his secrets. Except the great reveal-o.
That guy stinks.
I still don't see why you get the window seat.
Folks, this is your captain. Our snake tanks are fully loaded,
so once I figure out which button launches this...
I figured it out!
Don't come back!
Well, let's get looting!
Fry, this is the most noble thing anyone has ever done for me.
Wait, fry?
I'm a lot of people, but I'm not fry.
Oh, no!
Welcome to Mars!
It is with heavy heart and open arms
that we receive earth's only survivors.
Admission, $20.
Dad! Gleesh.
Greetings, Mars men.
We come to your planet to construct a gleaming city,
a second earth on which to begin anew.
Okay. Admission, $20.
I can't believe it. Fry sacrificed his spot for me,
and I never even had a chance to thank him.
Don't worry, Leela. Earth is still there, peaceful and serene as ever.
Bender! You're stealing your own stuff!
I am? Geez, I better slow down.
I'm stealing stuff I don't even need.
You want a torah? Nah, I'm not hungry.
Aw, what's the matter? Scared of dying?
No. 'Cause as long as Leela lives,
I'll be alive, too, in her heart.
But really I'll be dead.
Ladies and gentlemen, our new martian city is complete.
I give you dickfrancisco!
The doves didn't magically spring from my hand,
but rather were crammed into this netting sewn into my sleeve!
Thank you, great reveal-o.
And now, as a solemn testicle
to those left behind on earth,
I present this monument, titled simply, "heroes."
That frightened little girl in the statue reminds me of fry.
Singing wind: Stop the ceremony.
Who is this non-Washington redskin?
I am singing wind, chief of the native martian tribe.
But I thought your people abandoned this planet.
We did. I just came back for my stuff.
What're you guys doing here? Fleeing earth, of course.
We flew here in your great stone pyramid.
Seriously? That thing flies?
Of course. Your people left it so we could escape.
I translated your warning that the world was doomed.
Not your world. Our world.
We put calendar there to warn you not to visit Mars.
It Mars that gonna be destroyed.
Why you think we so eager to abandon this dump?
You guys got 10, 15 minutes Max. Vveh, solong.
Hey, ancient martian's a very hard language.
A...
Iooksjust like a...
To the spaceship! There is no spaceship.
You had it dismantled to build that statue.
To the statue.
Oh, what an idiot I was. And by "", I I mean "you."
The final solar flare is going to bypass earth and strike Mars.
My god, one of the hundreds of contradictory prophecies is coming true.
I should've known better than to trust
one of fry's romantic gestures.
Every time he says he loves me, I get killed.
It's just as I only now began to fear.
The solar flares are igniting subsurface gas pockets.
Mars is being blasted out of its orbit.
Fry, you noble idiot.
You're right, bender, grave robbing is fun.
And these pina skulladas are fantastic.
The crazy weather cleared up, too, for whatever reason.
All in all, it's a fine day for an apocalypse.
So you don't miss what's-her-name?
Of course I do.
But even though we're millions of miles apart,
somehow, I feel she's near me.
Very near!
Oh no! The kajigger of Gibraltar!
I have got to quit drinking.
Thanks, friend!
Another great thing was she always had room for dessert.
We're passing surprisingly close to earth!
When we reach 72nd street, jump!
Ah!
Cushiony.
We made it. We're back home.
Okay, today is still a workday, so...
Leela: Wait! Help!
I'm still on Mars, and I can'tjump!
Hang on, Leela! I'll save you again!
Or somebody else could do it!
Quick, take my hand.
I don't know. Bad things happen when you say that.
I got her! Ow!
Oops!
Try again! We're too far apart.
No, we're not. Grab your severed arm with your other arm.
Okay.
Hurray!
Good thing scruffy rescued Leela.
Don't thank me, thanktheladder
your cloned arms should be fully grown in a month or so.
But for right now, enjoy the sounds
of the world's smallest violin.
I hope you're not too mad at me, Leela,
for tearing your arm off and all.
I can't be mad. I'm on way too many painkillers.
Plus, you were willing to sacrifice yourself so I could live.
I mean, you failed, miserably,
but you're the only person who loves me enough to try.
One last foolish gesture?