From "Hell Is Other Robots" (Season 1, Episode 9)
Robot Devil:
Gentlemen?
(Music starts)
Bender:
Aww, crap; singing. Mind if I smoke?
Robot Devil:
Cigars are evil; you won't miss 'em
We'll find ways to simulate that smell
What a sorry fella! Rolled up and smoked like a panatella,
here on level one of Robot Hell!
Gambling's wrong and so is cheating;
so is forging phony I.O.U.s
Let's let Lady Luck decide what type of torture's justified;
I'm pit boss here on level two!
Ooh, deep-fried robot!
Bender:
Just tell me why!
Robot Devil:
Please read this fifty-five page warrant.
Bender:
There must be robots worse than I!
Robot Devil:
We've checked around; there really aren't.
Bender:
Then please let me explain: my crimes were merely boyish pranks.
Robot Devil:
You stole from boy scouts, nuns, and banks!
Bender:
Aww, don't blame me; blame my upbringing!
Robot Devil:
Please stop sinning while I'm singing!
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!
(Record scratching sounds)
That's what-cha, what-cha, what-cha get on level five!
Fry:
I don't feel well!
Leela:
It's up to us to rescue him.
Fry:
Maybe he likes it here in hell?
Leela:
It's us who tempted him to sin.
Fry:
Maybe he's back at the motel?
Leela:
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.
Fry:
My ass has blisters from the slide!
Robot Devil:
Fencing diamonds, fixing cockfights, publishing indecent magazines...
You'll pay for every crime, knee-deep in electric slime!
You'll suffer 'till the end of time, enduring tortures; most of
which rhyme
Trapped forever here in Robot Hell!
Robot Devil:
Gentlemen?
(Music starts)
Bender:
Aww, crap; singing. Mind if I smoke?
Robot Devil:
Cigars are evil; you won't miss 'em
We'll find ways to simulate that smell
What a sorry fella! Rolled up and smoked like a panatella,
here on level one of Robot Hell!
Gambling's wrong and so is cheating;
so is forging phony I.O.U.s
Let's let Lady Luck decide what type of torture's justified;
I'm pit boss here on level two!
Ooh, deep-fried robot!
Bender:
Just tell me why!
Robot Devil:
Please read this fifty-five page warrant.
Bender:
There must be robots worse than I!
Robot Devil:
We've checked around; there really aren't.
Bender:
Then please let me explain: my crimes were merely boyish pranks.
Robot Devil:
You stole from boy scouts, nuns, and banks!
Bender:
Aww, don't blame me; blame my upbringing!
Robot Devil:
Please stop sinning while I'm singing!
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!
(Record scratching sounds)
That's what-cha, what-cha, what-cha get on level five!
Fry:
I don't feel well!
Leela:
It's up to us to rescue him.
Fry:
Maybe he likes it here in hell?
Leela:
It's us who tempted him to sin.
Fry:
Maybe he's back at the motel?
Leela:
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.
Fry:
My ass has blisters from the slide!
Robot Devil:
Fencing diamonds, fixing cockfights, publishing indecent magazines...
You'll pay for every crime, knee-deep in electric slime!
You'll suffer 'till the end of time, enduring tortures; most of
which rhyme
Trapped forever here in Robot Hell!
song info: