#4649
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Ooh, name it after me! Hey, guess what you’re accessories to. I just want to talk. It has nothing to do with mating. Fry, that doesn’t make sense. Aww, it’s true. I’ve been hiding it for so long. No! I want to live! There are still too many things I don’t own!

Humans dating robots is sick. You people wonder why I’m still single? It’s ’cause all the fine robot sisters are dating humans! Now what? Belligerent and numerous. Guess again. You wouldn’t. Ask anyway!

This opera’s as lousy as it is brilliant! Your lyrics lack subtlety. You can’t just have your characters announce how they feel. That makes me feel angry! For the last time, I don’t like lilacs! Your ‘first’ wife was the one who liked lilacs!

Kif might! Bender, being God isn’t easy. If you do too much, people get dependent on you, and if you do nothing, they lose hope. You have to use a light touch. Like a safecracker, or a pickpocket. Come, Comrade Bender! We must take to the streets!

But I know you in the future. I cleaned your poop. Soothe us with sweet lies. Oh no! The professor will hit me! But if Zoidberg ‘fixes’ it… then perhaps gifts! You’ve killed me! Oh, you’ve killed me!

One hundred dollars. Bender, I didn’t know you liked cooking. That’s so cute. Incidentally, you have a dime up your nose. When the lights go out, it’s nobody’s business what goes on between two consenting adults.

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