|Music by||Ken Keeler and Christopher Tyng|
|Lyrics by||Eric Kaplan and Ken Keeler|
|Performed by||Robot Devil, Bender, the Beastie Boys' heads, Fry, and Leela|
|Appearance||"Hell is Other Robots"|
Beezelbot: We know all your sins, Bender, and for each one, we've prepared an agonizing, and ironic, punishment. Gentlemen?
Bender: Aw, crap, singing. Mind if I smoke?
Beezelbot: 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!
Beezelbot: Gambling's wrong and so is cheating. So is forging phony IOU's,
Let's let lady luck decide, what type of torture's justified.
I'm pit boss here on level two!
[He spins a wheel that Bender is strapped to. Luck decides to deep-fry Bender.]
Beezelbot: [speaking]: Ooh! Deep-fried robot!
[CUT TO... Bender is being dipped in what looks like boiling oil, the song has started up again]
Bender: [singing] Just tell me why!
Beezelbot: [singing] Please read this 55-page warrant.
Bender: There must be robots worse than I!
Beezelbot: We've checked around, there really aren't.
Bender: Then please let me explain, my crimes were merely boyish pranks!
Beezelbot: You stole from boy scouts, nuns and banks!
Bender: Aw, don't blame me,
Blame my upbringing!
[He steals Beezelbot's wallet.]
Beezelbot: Please stop sinning while I'm singing!
[He rips off Benders arm]
Beezelbot: Selling bootleg tapes is wrong, musicians need that income to survive!
[the song turns into a rap]
Beastie Boys: Hey, Bender, gonna make some noise, with your hard drive scratched by the Beastie Boys?
Beastie Boys:That's whatcha, whatcha, whatcha get on level five!
[CUT TO... Fry and Leela sliding down an enormous slide, the regular tune returns to the song]
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!
Beezelbot: 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!
[The Robot Devil tosses his hat away and stops singing]
Beezelbot: Of course, that's just for starters.