Guest
Cigars are evil You won’t miss ’em, We’ll find ways to simulate that smell, What a sorry fella, Rolled up in smoke like a panetela, Here on level 1 of Robot Hell! Gambling’s wrong and so is cheating, So is forging phoney IOU’s, Let’s let Lady Luck decide, What type of torture’s justified, I’m pit boss here on level 2! Ooh! Deep fried robot! Бендер: Just tell me why. Рободьявол: Please read this 55-page warrant. Бендер: There must be robots worse than I. Рободьявол: We’ve checked around, there really aren’t. Бендер: Then please let me explain, My crimes were merely boy-ish pranks. Рободьявол: You stole from boy scouts, nuns and banks! Бендер: Ah, don’t blame me blame my upbringing! Рободьявол: Please stop sinning while I’m singing! Рободьявол: Selling bootleg tapes is wrong, Musicians need that income to survive. Beastie Boys: Hey, Bender, gonna make some noise, With your hard drive scratched by the Beastie Boys! That’s whatcha whatcha whatcha get on level 5! Фрай: I don’t feel well. Лила: It’s up to us to rescue him. Фрай: Maybe he likes it here in hell. Лила: It’s us who tempted him to sin. Фрай: Maybe he’s back at the motel. Лила: Come on, Fry, don’t be scared, I’m sure at least one of us will be spared, So just sit back, enjoy the ride. Фрай: My ass has blisters from the slide. Рободьявол: Fencing diamonds, Fixing cockfights, Publishing indecent magazines... You’ll pay for every crime, Knee-deep in electric slime, You’ll suffer ’til the end of time, Enduring torture’s most of which rhyme, Trapped forever here in Robot Hell! Of course that’s just for starters.
