Farnsworth: Relax, my chiton-y chum. There's no problem. You're just heavy with male jelly.
Leela: Bleck!
Farnsworth: It must be mating season for Zoidberg's people; a chaotic time when his behaviour is dictated by the tiny brain in his rump.
Fry: Eck!
Farnsworth: There's only one thing we can do-
Bender: I'll get the water boiling!

Fry: Maybe he has a parasite.
Hermes: Maybe he is a parasite!

Bender: Look! Outdoor theatre! Let's get tickets. Oh, let's do!
Zoidberg: No, it's the ceremony of Claw-Plach, where my species fight to the death over matters of honour. Also whether abbreviations count in Scrabble. They don't!

Bender: You're looking less nuts, crabby.
Zoidberg: I'm feeling less nuts, thank you, because tomorrow I will be depositing my jelly in the cloacal vents of a female. If you catch my drift.

Give it to me straight, Professor. Is it fin rot? It's fin rot, isn't it? Tell me it's not fin rot!


It's always so sad when a friend goes crazy and you have to have a big clam-bake and cook him! Yee-haw!


Fry: I didn't come here to see any activity involving two guys. Where do you people do your erotic display?
Zoidberg: Same place as your species: The beach.

I wonder why Dr. Zoidberg is acting this way. Out of all of us he always seemed the most normal.


Zoidberg: Amy, take off these rubber bands and I'll show you how normal I am!
Amy: Fool me seven times, shame on you. Fool me eight or more times, shame on me.

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