Bender learns that he suffers from a mortal manufacturing defect.
It may have been a fake war, butmy scuffed knee is all too real.
I've got pains in jointsI had removed a century ago.
Bender, bring me my soft chairwith the wheels on it.
Your wheelchair?I don't need a wheelchair!
The one with the wheels.
Poor flimsy humans.
Don't you wishyou were flawless like me?
A towering infernoof physical perfection?
I hate to pop your blimp-likeego, but you are not perfect.
Am so.Are not.
Is too.Says who?
Says the only human
whose opinionI even remotely respect.
Inspector Five,the best inspector
a kid could want.
The day I was built,he looked me over,
probably with tearsof pride in his eyes,
and proclaimed to all the world,by means of this scrap of paper,
that I was perfectand infallible in every way.
Hey, Mr. Perfect,
you wet the chair.
Must be some of that urineyou're all so proud of.
That's not urine; it's oil.
I'm triple-sealedto prevent any chance of...
You call thatan ink defense?
(train whistle blows)
We did it!
12 straight hours of limbo.
I haven't done thatsince my honeymoon.
Hermes, Hermes, rememberthat flock of bats?
I sure do.
That was fun.
BENDER:Where are we?
I have no idea.
(both yell and groan)
Hey, we're just a stone'sthrow from Tijuana.
MAN: Dios mio!
A rock has fallen herein the outskirts of Tijuana.
Is it withinthe city limit?
I think, yes.
Hey, you wantto celebrate our escape?
Maybe grab a shot of tequila andtake in a big-league cockfight?
Sure. No, wait.
I was built in Tijuana.
Maybe Inspector Fivestill works there.
He better do some 'splainin'
before I mash upsome face guacamole.
He's Mexican,I'm Mexican.
Let me handle this.
Sus papeles, por favor?
Here are our passports, visas,
and Homeland Securitypermission slips.
Notarized and starched.
I also would have accepteda bribe.
You know, I wasin Italy last week.
My birthplace.It's closed!
There's not evena shrine to me
with a gift shop,selling piñatas of me!
End of theline, mon.
Come on, we can still catch atwi-night double-cockfight.
What's thatin the Mexican garbage?
Looks like a half-eatencheese diaper.
No, next to that.
A half-eatenemployee directory.
BENDER:Inspector Five's home address!
His ass-ias is gracias!