The Butterjunk Effect

Well, what'll it be, folks? Tap water or bottled? Whatever. Kif, you pick. Oh, oh, it's always so hard to decide. Um, uh, tap. I mean bottled. Bam! Ooh, I love your boots, Leela. Nobody would ever guess they're knockoffs. How could you tell? I guessed. They're at it again. Please, Fry. Girlfriends always talk trash to each other. Like how I might say I like Amy's dress 'cause it covers all her tramp stamps. Knock it off, Fry. It's when women are polite to each other that you know there's a problem. Exactly. Now, enough about who is and who isn't a Chinese skank. We're just two happy couples on a double date. Let's go! Let's go! We've got to get these moon rocks to the moon by moondown. Why are we bringing moon rocks to the moon? Oh, those lunar crybabies claim the rocks were stolen by the Apollo astronauts. They consider them part of their cultural heritage. Nice work, Leela. You're really pulling your weight. Which is saying something. Ow! You're using the rocks to build a wall? What about your cultural heritage? You bought that cultural heritage hoo-ha? What a bunch of big-city dummies. At least the rocks are light here. I don't even need my over-the-shoulder Boulder holder. With one-sixth gravity, you can work and be lazy at the same time. It's like being a voice actor. Say, you nose-breathers want to come see some real moon culture, come on down to the butterfly derby tonight. Wait, the butterfly derby is when? And what? The low gravity lets them nice ladies flap every which way, so long as they only wear light, skimpy outfits. It's a necessity of the sport, it is. This is actually quite elegant. It's not what I was expecting. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the meanest things on gossamer wings The Murderflies! This is what I was expecting. So, uh, what are the rules of this sport? You see that there? That's called a floor. Once a butterfly hits that, she's out. Last team flying wins. Super swatter! Keep your eye on the ground. That's where she's going to land. Yep, called it. And now, for our weekly amateur flapdown. Do we have two volunteers to go wing-to-wing with the Murderflies? Winners get 50 bucks and the accolades of dozens of hooting hillbillies. What do you think, Leela? Judging from your tank top, you love getting hooted at by hillbillies. And you could use the $50 for another gallon of hello kitty perfume. The bicker sisters teaming up? Talk about cat women on the moon. Okay, enough of that already. We're not really fighting. Then prove it by fighting. All right, we will. Come on, Amy. Why don't you and I ever do things together? This is hard. Now I know why butterflies are always so grouchy. Please welcome tonight's volunteer victims: Turanga Leela and Amy Wong! Hang on. We're not quite ready to You girls have moxie. We're going to beat it out of you. Amy, remember when we tried out for the rockettes? And we failed because we accidentally kicked those two rockettes to death? Yeah. Why do you bring that up? Oh. We'll teach you not to lose immediately. Announcer: Super shocker! Yay. They can move their arms. Congratulations to our gutsy, non-paralyzed challengers. Ladies, that is the kind of can-do performance I like to see From my new butterfly derby team. Which is what I am offering you to be. Because I'm the commissioner of the butterfly derby. I'm Abner Doubledeal. Hello. But we lost. Why would you want us to join your league? We're always looking for fresh blood, and you girls are full of it. You two could be the next big thing. What happened to the last big thing? Nothing that doesn't happen to everyone eventually. What is this, an inquisition? You in or not? Yes. You spletcha. And so began the fight career of two skimpy outfits and the feisty women who filled them. Ladies and gentlemen, the Wingnuts! And although sometimes they got beaten, other times, they got beaten badly. But just when it looked like they'd never win They didn't. Well, we lost to all our opponents. Even that team that turned out to be us in the mirror. It's time we gave up. Yeah. I don't know what else we could have done to enhance our performance. Hey, great job tonight, you two. Here, got you some fresh nectar. Whoa, that puts the lead in my pencil. Thanks, trainer. Excuse me. What's that nectar you're handing out? It's a plant-based supplement that bulks up your flapping muscles. Want to try it? You know you want to. A chemical that can help us win? That sounds great. Mmm I'm not sure. Look, here's my disposable cell phone number. Think it over. Give me a call when you're Hang on. I got to take this. Hello? We're ready. Great. You are not going to regret this. It's a nice, clean way to improve your performance. And we just drink it? Or Inject it between your toes. Either way works, right? Well down the hatch. Ah. Ah. Mmm. A guy could get used to this. Once again, Eternulax The Immortal, dead at the age of 26. Now here's Sportsbot 5000 to tell us about two local gals, Amy Wong and Turanga Leela, who have won 15 butterfly derby bouts in a row, even as rumors swirl that they're juicing up with the controversial nutritional supplement known as nectar. Sportsbot? That's pretty much it. Riveting stuff, Sportsbot. Yo, yo, yo. What's up, ladies? Uh-oh. The bullies are back. Leela, Amy, I like a stalwart, feminine physique as much as the next fellow, but this nectar worries me. You should be worried about this! Boo-ya! Easy, Amy, easy. Professor, there's nothing wrong with nectar. It's all-natural. So are carrots, but you don't see me injecting them between my toes. Uh, Leela? I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me again. Maybe play some miniature golf or colossal tennis? Sorry, Fry. I already got a double date with arm and hammer. Bender, you want to go out and do something? Oh, so now I'm your last-resort Booty call, huh? Okay, let's go. That's my little sugar doodle. Cork your face bladder. I'm working! Sorry. I had that coming. It's not easy being a derby wife. The Wingnuts, ladies and gentlemen. And that bloodbath takes them to next week's finals against our reigning champions, the Murderflies. Now, listen up. I got a little boy at home, and he's dying. Dying to see me kill these two. Oh, your son's going to die all right But from neglect. 'Cause you're going home in an urn. A funerary urn. Hey, trainer, we got a big bout next week. Juice us up. Sorry, gals. I'm all out. These two just bought my entire supply. You're going Down. And she doesn't even want to cuddle anymore. She just wants to hit me with various chairs. You're lucky. I can't even get Leela to verbally abuse me. All right, listen up. We're out of nectar, and we need a new source. Uh, dearest, perhaps this would be a good time to consider possibly drinking just a little less Say, why don't you just have Kif get you some nectar? It comes from a flower on his home planet. You mean it's ocephalus nectar? Oh, my. Oh, dear. It's found in a rather remote region Just play along. This could be our chance for romance. Come on, ladies. Let's take a little trip to Kif's planet. We'll gather some nectar, and have a nice, romantic weekend. Just the four of us. Let's go already! Wow! It's the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Hey Leela, want to know what the most beautiful thing is? No. Let's get hopped up. Greetings eco-tourists! I am the grand butterfly curator this week. Yeah, yeah, you can teach us to respect nature later. Right now, we've got some flowers to suck dry. Suck 'em, burn 'em as long as they're not butterflies, I don't give a grand crap. But take heed! For you see, it is mating season. Whatever you do, you must not disturb the aggressive male. He can be identified by his orange coloration and enormous butterjunk. What's he gonna do, migrate at us? Silence! I can't be specific about the danger, since if something different happens, I might be liable for damages. But believe me, you'll rue the day you came to the butterfly preserve. Well, enjoy the butterfly preserve. Okay, bye. Come on, come on. Let's find those flowers. We'll split into teams. You mean couples? Eh? Eh? Nice job smacking Kif. Dude had it coming. Wait. I think I smell nectar. Way ahead of you! I don't even know why we're helping find an addictive drug for our mean girlfriends. Quiet, they'll hear you. The male butterfly. It's gorgeous! Let me get my butterfly hammer. Bender, no. That park ranger explicitly gave us a vague warning. Look, the hammer's already out; I got to smash something. It smells like a skunk stuffed with feta cheese. P. U. ! Thank God I don't have a nose. We can sleep at my parents' house. I'll just buzz and let them know we're here. Mom, dad, I'm sure you remember Fry, Leela, Bender, and of course my fon-fon-ru, Amy. Welcome to our home. One of you stinks. That'd be me. Wait, you're flies. Don't you eat excrement? That's a day at the beach compared to this. Listen, I'm just gonna shower this stuff off and go to bed. Wait. Don't take a shower, Fry. You smell kind of nice. Uh, sm yeah. Huh? No hanky-panky. Everyone sleep in separate rooms. Good night, Kif. Night, Fry. Huh? Keep your door unlocked tonight. But McGruff the crime dog says oh! Come in. Hey, smelly-pants. Leela?! Leela?! Amy?! Amy?! I'm done polishing my ass, Fry. Here's your toothbrush back. You just hop into bed with my boyfriend?! And you! As God is my witness, I'll never forgive you for this! Hey, just 'cause he's your boyfriend doesn't mean you get him all to yourself. He's mine! There's nothing more to talk about. No, no, keep talking. Um, Amy, I hope I'm not out of line, but Shut up, Kif. How dare you talk that way to my Kif?! This planet's got it going on. Sweet orgy of Georgia! Have you girls gone wild? That's Fry you're macking on. Hmm. It seems Fry's inexplicable sex appeal is due to the butterfly pheromone he was sprayed with. But Amy and Leela aren't butterflies. Right? No, but thanks to the damned butterfly nectar they've been swilling, they might as well be. The nectar causes their bodies to produce female butterfly hormones, building up their flapping muscles, but also making them irresistibly attracted to Fry. The only way to end this madness is for the ladies to quit, cold Turkey. Whoa, whoa! Let's not shock their system. Maybe they could just go warm Turkey? No, the Professor's right. We have to quit the nectar. I agree. This has to stop. My guts feel kind of weird. I'm not surprised. Those pheromones were highly concentrated. Oh, I think I'm getting a little caterpilly. All right, let's get this party ended. We did it! We kicked nectar's butt! I don't give a crap! Kif, I'm sorry for making out with Fry so loud and often. It's all right, dearest. I know it was just the nectar talking. And groping. Well, looks like Fry's three-way is down to a one-way. If he's lucky. Hey, where is Fry? Amy, Leela! What are you doing at your place of work? Your match with the Murderflies is about to start. Moon-ladies and moon-men, presenting the defending champions, the queens of hostility from the sea of tranquility, the Murderflies! And now their opponents: The vixens most horrible from the big blue marble, the Wingnuts. Everybody kill everybody! Well, we're not on the juice anymore, but what's the worst that can happen? Since this is a championship match, we are gonna need some lava! Wait. Hot lava? Amy, if we get killed, I just want to say it's been an honor riding the roller coaster of addiction and recovery with you, as a team. How could this not be hurting you? I once killed a sea turtle with these boots. Hold me. Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no, no. Oh, no. Make a wish. My God! Fry has metamorphosed into a gigantic butterfly! He's even more beautiful than before! Ooh, what is that sexy stink? Oh, cripes! They're mating! Ladies and gentlemen, I am so sorry for allowing this lurid sex act to taint an otherwise delightful day of family-friendly violence. That is some freaky bug-on-bug action. I feel a little left out. Is Fry going to be okay? I don't think so. He's grown all these strange insect parts, and he has absolutely no brain activity. Look! He lost the strange insect parts. He's back to normal!