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3.29sCould you shut the door, igner, dear?
3.07sI think I feel a draft coming on.
1.6s
2.92sHoly crap, that bastard's itchy.
1.65sWalt, cream soda.
1.03sRight away, Mother.
2.37sLarry, get your mother a cream soda.
1.7sBut Mom said--
1.87sYou heard me.
7.46s
1.13sWhat's wrong, Mommy?
1.87sIt's those damned anchovies.
6.11sThat dirtbag Fry must know their secret and I won't rest until I get my hands on them.
2.82sNo one messes with Mom.
2.6s
1.6s
1.98s
2.8s
2.3sQuiet, you.
0.92s
4.04s
4.72sAs you boys know, one of the cornerstones of my empire is Mom's Old-fashioned Robot Oil.