"You have reached the voicemail of Professor Hubert J. Farnsworth, who does not care to know why you are trying to contact him. You're still probably going to do so anyway, leaving your name and number, so just leave your address, too, so I know where to send the bombs and hate mail."

BEEEEP!

Despite all of his efforts and tinkering, Farnsworth was just about ready to give up on getting Robot Farnsworth back to working order. He had no idea what that floozy SquishyBot had done to his creation, but it was looking abysmal and, determined to get it running at least minimally for that ridiculous club tomorrow, Farnsworth gave the bucket of ( Read more... )

After reviewing Robot Farnsworth's files and seeing how the experiment had gone, the Professor was hard at work in his office, tweaking the automaton's programming to ensure that the same mistakes didn't happen again in the future ( Read more... )

Farnsworth's office was a complete and utter mess, of metallic parts, electronic wires and chips, and cartons of half-finished Chinese take-out. He hadn't immersed himself in a project this heavily since his younger day, fifty or so odd years ago, at that wide-eyed age of about a century, but his efforts were paying off. At this rate, he might even ( Read more... )

There was a clutter of various things, some of them seemingly alive, on Farnsworth's desk, as he tinkered and fiddled and muttered to himself.

"Now, if only I could get a hold on building something to replace me for going to that stupid club by that stupid girl," he was murmuring. "Some kind of gamma powered mechanical monster, with freeway on- ( Read more... )

Professor Farnsworth had a toaster on his desk yet again, though he was not putting food into this time. Instead, he was poking it with a stick, tweaking it a little bit with a screwdriver, and fiddling with an electronic interface that he'd worked into the thing ( Read more... )

Farnsworth would have liked to have a productive day in the office for this ridiculous Parents' Weekend nonsense, where he could go over his paperwork enough to be able to pretend he knew who little Billy and Susie were when their parents came in to discuss their abysmal futures, but, alas, he was far too distracted by an unfortunate crustacean ( Read more... )

Farnsworth was just sitting in his office, tinkering away at another doomsday device, when a unicorn clomped up and stood in the opened door way ( Read more... )

Having a class on clones, robots, long-lost twins and Fandom doubles this week reminded Farnsworth that he had a bunch of boxes of alternate universes that needed some sorting still, and so that became the order of this day in his office. It was at times a tedious task, filled with boring possibilities and uninteresting chances, but, on occasion, ( Read more... )

Farnsworth was sitting at his desk, hands folded with his elbows resting on it. There was nothing else in front of him but a placemat a plate, and a toaster, clearly in use, and the minutes ticked by without even until finally the toaster gave a faint ding and a pop and two things that were definitely not toast but were definitely charred shot up ( Read more... )