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Lethal Inspection

Bender learns that he suffers from a mortal manufacturing defect. (21:28)

(all groaning)

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.

(kisses)

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.

Huh?Wasn't me.

Must be some of that urineyou're all so proud of.

(smacks lips)

That's not urine; it's oil.

Impossible.

I'm triple-sealedto prevent any chance of...

(shrieks)

You call thatan ink defense?

(screams)

Good-bye, friends.

(train whistle blows)

(whooping)

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 yelling)

(both grunt)

(both yell and groan)

Hey, we're just a stone'sthrow from Tijuana.

See?

(grunts)(thud)

MAN: Dios mio!

A rock has fallen herein the outskirts of Tijuana.

Is it withinthe city limit?

I think, yes.

Told you.

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?

Sí.

Ouch-o!

Here are our passports, visas,

and Homeland Securitypermission slips.

Notarized and starched.

Okay.

I also would have accepteda bribe.

Nice work,butterball.

You know, I wasin Italy last week.

(gasps)

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.

No, wait!

What's thatin the Mexican garbage?

Looks like a half-eatencheese diaper.

No, next to that.

(hooting)

A half-eatenemployee directory.

(both gasp)

BENDER:Inspector Five's home address!

His ass-ias is gracias!

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