People always talk about Seymour waiting… But Luck of the Fryrish is a different kind of pain.
You spend the whole episode thinking Fry’s brother stole his name, his dreams, and even his four-leaf clover. You hate him for it.
But in the end…
“Here lies Philip J. Fry. Named for his uncle. To carry on his spirit.”
He didn’t steal anything. He was honoring him.
Fry wasn’t forgotten. He became a legacy.
That twist doesn’t just hurt—it heals. And somehow… that makes it worse.
This wasn’t just a sad episode. This was misunderstood love revealed too late.
