Sliding Bobs

Gene: Faster! Faster!

Gene, stop whipping me with a tube sock.

Well, sorry I don't have dress socks.

Keep going, Dad.

You're almost at the water station.

Oh, my God.

Yay, Dad!

You're peddling like crazy and not getting anywhere.

Just like your life.

Great encouragement, kids!

And... good enough. Oh!

Now, hit the showers, sweat stuff.

And wash this sock. It's got your stank all over it.

Boy, your father's getting a lot of good out of this old exer-cycle someone dumped in the alley.

Maybe it was a hint from a concerned friend, like someone anonymously mailing you mouthwash.

Yeah, did you like the flavor, by the way?

'Cause they also make cinnamon.

No, it was really good.

Oh... Hey!

That's weird.

So, it looks the same?

Yeah, your bald spot is still exactly the size of the lid of a mayonnaise jar.

Or a tiny crop circle.

Huh, I guess it's a mystery.

Bob, your mustache!

What?

You're going lip bald!

All right, well, it doesn't look great.

Or it's sexy. It shows a little skin, but leaves something to the imagination.

"Internet, does my father have mange?"

Maybe I should just shave it off.

"Shave it off"?!

No, no, no! You can't!

Bob, your mustache is like an old friend.

It introduced us.

It was how we met.

Wait, it was how you met?

I thought Mom lost a bet.

Come on, you know this story.

I never told you this story?

Guys, this is our chance to say "Yes, you did tell us that story."

I was engaged to Hugo, but I wasn't that into hanging out with him.

Louise: Here we go.

So, one night, I was having a quiet cocktail with my friend Ginger.

(laughing)

So, I said, "That's not how you throw a shrimp.

This is how you throw a shrimp!"

Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!

Oh, my God!

Hey, you got a lot of nerve grabbing girls' diamond rings with your thick, luxurious, Tom Selleck-Ian mustache.

Hi. Hi.

Uh, my eyes are up here.

Should we get some scissors?

What's the rush?

What do you mean?

Oh, I... Sorry.

One thing led to another, and, uh, I gave Hugo back his ring and told him I met a mustache.

Whoa! So if Dad didn't have his mustache that day, you guys don't click, don't get together, we're not born.

(gasps) A world without a Gene is not a world I want to live in!

Oh, please. Mom and Dad are destined to get together no matter what.

It's called fate and it's great.

That's an easy way to remember it.

No, no, no, no. Shave Dad's face, Belcher kids are erased.

If Dad's lip has no hair, we never come out of there.

Well, we'll never really know what would've happened if I didn't have a mustache back then.

But we can wildly speculate.

No. I don't want to do that.

I take you back to that night.

Everything is the same... almost!

"That's not how you throw a shrimp.

This is how you throw a shrimp!"

Gene: Dad's naked lip is no match for a small karat, visibly occluded, rose-cut diamond.

You know a weird amount about diamonds.

A boy can plan for his big day!

Ow! Oh, oh, God!

Sorry. Uh-oh!

Got a little blood.

Uh, let me get you a napkin.

Aah! There you go.

All better. Oh, wait, no.

It's gushing. Oh, no!

Oh, God. Oh, God! Oh, God...

Doctor: I don't really like the sight of blood, either.

It's like, what is that stuff?!

Hi, Doc. Sergeant Bosco, PD.

What do you got... lip job?

Um, it's a simple laceration.

Just a couple of stitches should do it.

He could be perfect.

You're losing him!

I'm losing him?

Wait, you're losing me? (makes flatlining noise)

He's flatlining!

(scoffs) You're making that sound.

Induce coma!

Induce coma?!

I'm commandeering this patient.

Wait!

Let's talk about... (mumbling)

Technician: Powering up.

He's on.

How are you feeling?

Bob (monotone): I don't feel.

What do you remember?

Nothing.

Correct response.

The OS is loaded.

Welcome to the force, Officer Robo 'Stache.

Mm-hmm, mm-hmm.

Lin!

I'm just giving you a little comb-over. Ugh.

Gene, why would the police give me a robotic mustache?

Because they tried robotic ding-dongs, and they were buggy.

Sure, sure.

Gene: But the mustache unit was bristling with state-of-the-art technology.

.45-caliber revolver, tear gas, paper shredder, universal remote, pencil sharpener, toothpick, melon baller.

Robo 'Stache, you are fully trained.

We've uploaded police academy to your brain.

The movies and the actual training.

They are funny, except for 5: Assignment: Miami Beach.

That is correct.

What are your directives?

Serve the public, protect the innocent.

Dance like no one's watching.

And a fourth hidden secret one I'm not allowed to know about but shouldn't concern me in the slightest.

Perfect. Now hit the streets!

Gene: The new broom on Dad's lip swept the city clean.

Hold it, punk.

Hold it, pug.

Drop the loot, scum.

It's take-a-penny, leave-a-penny! (groaning)

More like take-a-tase, take-a-tase.

Indecent exposure!

Ow, my butt cheeks!

Why would you do that?

So, I'm kind of nitpicky as a cop.

No, you're not good.

Just keep going, Gene.

♪ I'm engaged to Hugo! ♪ ♪ Is that good? I don't know! ♪

Public nuisance detected!

♪ As long as I don't think about it ♪ ♪ Too much, yeah ♪

Beanbag deployed.

♪ I... ♪ Aah!

Oh, my mouth!

Hey, it's you!

You a cop now?

You look different with that mustache. You look good!

Compliment accepted.

I'll pass that along to my supervisors.

They'll be jazzed.

You have the right to buy me a cup of coffee.

Please don't use cute cop speak.

It's not cute.

So tell me about yourself.

There's not much to tell.

My ding-dong is not robotic.

They are buggy. Oh.

Bob: Gene!

It was bound to come up!

See, Gene?

You couldn't stop fate even in your own story.

Dad has a mustache, and he and Mom are hitting it off like peanut butter and Jerry.

You know, that kid from school who has peanut butter every day? Jerry?

Uh, uh, uh, don't get attached, because not everyone lives... hint, hint. No!

I can't get over how handsome you look now.

Thank you. You are the eighth most attractive woman I've seen today.

Oh.

I arrested seven supermodels. Oh!

I mean prostitutes.

Oh.

Of all the women who are not supermodel-prostitutes, you are the most attractive.

Aw. How about I give you a little kiss?

For free, right?

Mmm. (gasps) You zapped me!

(slowly, in deep voice): This is how you throw a shrimp.

We've met before. I know! That's why, when I saw you, I said, "Hey, it's you!"

You can say that to anyone.

It's always true.

What happened to you?

I don't know, but I have some questions.

Gene: Robo 'Stache had some questions.

Who is Bob Belcher?

His name is written in my underwear.

Bob Belcher?

He's one of your parts.

Like a screw, but not as fancy as a screw.

Linda: Ouch.

You mind turning the voltage down on the mustache?

It's like making out with a wall socket.

It's hardwired to his brain.

If we do that, I don't know what'll happen, except that his brain will explode, so power down, or...?

What?! That's horrible!

If you don't like it, take it up with Mr. Fischoeder.

He owns the cops.

He's, uh, not here right now, but there's a tiny model of him.

"Wonder Wharfopolis?"

Mr. Fischoeder's dream.

Picture this town.

Now picture it gone completely.

Then picture a giant amusement park as big as a town.

Where will people live?

The people are in the way!

That's why we made Tin Lip over here.

To drive people out with nitpicky policing!

The police are just goons for Mr. Fischoeder?!

Officer Bosco, you're under arr-rr... ruh-ruh, uh-ruh...

Ah, the hidden Secret Fourth Directive:

"Never arrest Officer Bosco."

Oh, that was smart to put in there.

Mr. F. thinks of everything.

He's a handsome genius.

One more thing.

Not only do I work for Mr. Fischoeder.

I am Mr. Fischoeder.

Aha! He shouldn't have done that.

Now Robo 'Stache can arrest him!

Good, Father, good.

Mr. Fischoeder, you're under arrest.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, wait.

Did I not put in "Never arrest Mr. Fischoeder"? No.

Well, let me just pop this Bosco mask back on and, uh...

(clears throat) Let's talk, man to... mm, cyborg.

What-what if I could give you a robotic ding-dong? No bugs.

Interesting. No, thank you.

In that case, I'll have to keep my robo eye on you.

(whirring)

Gene: The battle was intense.

It was like Terminator versus Roomba.

Laser beam!

Eye scissors! Tear gas!

Stink eye! Toothpick!

Pink eye! Melon baller!

Gene: But Robo couldn't handle the big Fisch.

The pupil becomes the master!

(high-pitched whirring)

System error.

Contact Mustache Administrator.

Brain explosion any second...

Actually, I think I'm fi...

(groans) Oh, God.

Brain explosion hurts so much.

It's like getting water up your nose, but worse.

Ugh! Let's get this back on.

Oh! One more time.

Now I got it.

That's upside down.

How about you just keep it?

Oh, I don't really have a place for it.

Well, it's my dying wish, so...

I guess I could put it on my pet cactus so it looks like my cactus has a mustache.

(laughs) Can you imagine?!

Oh, you're dead.

Gene: Dad was dead.

And his mustache was on a cactus.

And that is what would've happened definitely for sure.

Huh. It really makes you think about stuff.

No, Dad wouldn't die.

Mom and Dad would end up together!

Also, if they arrested everyone, who would go to the amusement park?

German tourists.

Hey, Dad, I found something here.

"Loss of facial hair can be caused by testicular failure."

Testicular failure?

Gee, even your testicles are failures.

They're trying.

Let's just change the subject, please.

Sure. Sports?

What are they?

I know what would have happened if Dad met Mom without a mustache, and it's even more tragic.

Guys, why are we doing this?

Mom and Dad would always, always end up together.

Shh, Tina.

Love at first sight is a powerful thing between two people.

This is how you throw a shrimp!

Hi. I'm Bob.

But usually one of those people will not be into it.

Hi. I'm not into it.

And then it's not powerful at all.

Just sad.

And I'm semi-happily engaged.

But Mom at least had some advice for Dad.

Look, I'm gonna be blunt. You're a butter lip.

You need a little face candy.

Cocaine?

No I'm talking about a mustache.

You know the saying.

A gentleman down south, but a bad boy above the mouth?

I don't know that saying, but if I had a mustache, you'd be into it?

Yeah, maybe, but it doesn't matter.

I'm only in town for one night, and I'm pretty sure you can't grow a mustache in 24 hours, so, bye.

Louise: A smarter man would have known he was getting the brush-off, but Dad was so hooked on her, and so stupid, he took it as a challenge.

Dad tried everything.

He rubbed.

He glued.

He sprayed.

(coughing)

There was only one thing left to try... a wish.

I wish I had a must...

Out of order, buddy!

Oh, no!

The swami's hand's on the fritz.

His middle finger keeps popping up.

Not what people are looking for.

Well, then, can you grant me a wish?

I'm not really qualified.

I mean, I'm just the repair guy. I...

Look, it's an emergency!

All right, uh, I'll do it, but if you wish my clothes off, I'm gonna be mad.

I-I wish I had a mustache.

Uh, your wish is granted.

Great, thank you.

All right, no guarantees on that.

Bad swami.

Louise: At first, nothing happened.

(sighs) What was I thinking?

And then...

(gasps, chuckles)

(laughs)

You sweet, magical, fortune-teller repairman.

(Linda grunts) Ow.

It's real.

How'd you do it?

Don't worry about the past.

Let's just talk about our future.

Huh, you got a little soul patch, too.

Oh, um, so I do.

And kind of a unibrow, how'd I miss that?

Giant muttonchops and knuckle Afros and a bushel of hair coming out of both ears.

And your nose, too.

Uh, okay, so should we order?

Oh, I'm gonna throw up.

What?

Waiter!

(gags)

Bob: So I'm like a werewolf?

That's kind of fun, kind of cool.

No, you just have uncontrollable hair growth everywhere.

That's not really... that's just uncomfortable.

Yeah.

Don't worry, Dad.

When you're destined to be together, uncontrollable hair growth can't stop uncontrollable love growth.

Shush, shush, Mom was super grossed out, so Dad needed to unwish his wish fast, but...

Oh, crap, the machine's gone.

I'm stuck like this forever.

Dad was devastated. He slumped away, hairily.

Bob, wait; You're a good man, and you did this for me.

Let's try to make it work. (gags)

Are you still gagging?

There you are.

There he is.

You want to see?

Oh, so that was a lot of work for nothing.

Sorry. (clicks tongue, sighs)

Maybe we should just go for a walk.

You wanna go for a walk?

Do ya? Do you wanna go?

Uh, can you not say it like that?

He's excited.

He heard the "W" word.

I'm a little excited, but please stop.

Louise: For a moment there, it seemed like they had it all figured out.

Hey, hair ball, put it in a ponytail, right?!

You're shedding all over the sidewalk!

(sighs) Shake it off.

Let's pick up the pace a little, come on.

Cool...

You see, that guy gets it.

I love it, but society will never accept you...

(sighs) He's right.

What kind of future could I give you?

What can I do with my life, looking like this?

You could, uh...

Uh...

Uh... Nah. Oh!

Bob: So I thought I would be an excellent freak in your freak show.

Mm-hmm.

Any, uh, qualifications?

I'm... I'm covered in hair.

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Education?

What?

Education?

Oh.

I... Yes, Dartmouth.

Ooh.

Uh, I'm sorry, I lied.

I panicked and I lied.

I see.

Harvard.

Oh.

I lied again, I don't... I... I didn't go to college.

So you thought you could just grow your hair a little and jump into the freak business, did you?

Um... These people are professionals.

They are trained.

Can you hang bricks from your nipples?

I... I-I don't think I can.

You would know.

I'm sorry I wasted your time.

You know what, you're hired.

Wait, that's... that's great.

You go on in ten minutes.

Get the hair dryer! We need a blowout!

Louise: Dad lived out the rest of his life as a freak.

Mom developed an allergy and left him and became a nun, 'cause she thought it would be like Sister Act.

It wasn't, and they kicked her out.

Now she's in jail. The end.

Mm.

So I have even less dignity in that story.

So that's the one we'll accept as true.

That's what would have happened.

Dad, great news; There's a treatment for your midlife problems: A mustache transplant.

"Let our talented doctors take follicles from a hairier part of your body and surgically implant them on your lip."

I'm not doing that.

But you're the perfect candidate.

You have hair everywhere!

Back-stache, belly-stache.

Hello? Butt-stache!

Can we just...?

Let Tina have the floor finally?

Yes, because I know that even if there's no mustache that night, Mom and Dad would still fall in love because of fate, which is great! Remember?!

This is how you throw a shrimp!

Ow!

Aah!

(both laughing)

(both sigh)

Tina: Done. They're in love.

Everyone got that? Everyone clear?

Uh... that doesn't sound right.

Yeah, Dad makes a weird noise when he's hurt, and it's not attractive to women or anyone.

It scares cats.

Huh. Yeah.

Um, okay, maybe they start out a little rocky.

Hey, crazy arms, take your crazy-arm medication!

Looks like you took too much of your medication.

Call your doctor if you experience any of these symptoms.

Ugly face, dumb face, dumb breath, donkey neck, weird legs.

Weird legs?

Only from the waist down.

Um, now that they've gotten all that off their chests, sparks are ready to fly.

(laughing): Oh, boy.

I don't think this is getting back on track, T.

No, it does. Fate! Destiny!

Let's get married and have three kids and live together forever!

Okay.

Mm... Completely unbelievable.

Yeah, I don't think so, Tina.

Mm, nah, that's not the Linda I know.

Oh, my God, you're right.

Dad would have walked out, and they would have been out of each other's lives.

And then...

Huh! Huh! Wha-What? What?

Huh! Huh! Huh!

What?!

It's bad! It's bad!

Maybe you're just telling it bad?

Don't you see?!

If Mom and Dad don't get together, Mom's engagement to Hugo is never broken!

(both gasping)

Are we ready, darling?

So, we're actually doing this?

Of course! This isn't the rehearsal anymore?

This is the... the thing?

Tina: Hugo grows a mustache for the wedding.

It's bushy, and it has it going on.

Gene: No!

Tina: It gets worse.

They have three children... Mona, Dean and Charlize.

And because Mom never breaks up with Hugo, he never suffers the tragic heartbreak that turned him into a health inspector.

So he's happy, and he pursues his dream of opening... a restaurant.

Big day today. It's a holiday weekend.

All right, let's sell some hot dogs!

I got it all, baby!

Uh, three kids and a mustache! Nothing missing!

Big day for another reason, too, right, Linda?

It's May 5.

5/5.

Oh, yeah, your height!

Yes, my height!

Also, Cinco de Mayo!

Also, our anniversary!

Right, we got married!

I'm so happy.

No lingering regret at all!

Thank you for the best anniversary! All of you!

You're my children, and you're all wonderful.

You, Mona, with your appropriate level of interest in boys.

Boys? Shrug. What else you got?

And don't say horses.

And Dean, my little man.

If only I could pull you out of your shell!

Dad, please!

Stop paying attention to me.

I can't bear the spotlight!

Sorry for screaming.

And little Charlize, with your stickers and your princess dolls.

Could you be any sweeter?

Well, is there anything else I can do to help the family business?

Give us a twirl!

Whee!

You're a monster.

It's not me, don't you see? It's what would have happened!

And now your mother and I are going downstairs to stuff the sausage. Gross.

Okay, that's enough.

I wish it was, Dad, but there's more.

Since you never fell in love with Mom, your life was different, too!

Hugo's Hot Dogs, here we are.

You coming, partner?

Bob: Yes, I'm coming, Ron!

I have to. I'm a health inspector! It's my job!

Free samples! Put your hands on a wiener!

No double entendre intended!

Hey, I know this building.

I tried to rent it 20 years ago, but somebody got in just ahead of me.

Oh, and then didn't you go on to have a series of failed restaurants?

Yeah. Thanks, Ron.

Mona, honey, Jimmy Junior's on the phone.

He wants to take you to the new zombie movie tonight.

Ugh. Jimmy Junior? Zombies?

(scoffs) Maybe in a parallel universe.

Hello, we're here to inspect you.

Whee! I'm Princess Spins-around!

That doesn't sound like a real princess.

Shut up!

I... Sir? Ma'am?

Oh, sweetheart, please, please!

I don't like him!

Hey, I know you from somewhere.

(gasps) Ugly face, dumb face, donkey neck, weird legs!

Oh, uh, uh, crazy arms, right?

How are you?

Eh. Well, we have to check something out.

There's a rumor that you make your wieners out of actual wiener dogs.

I mean, it's obviously false, but...

No, it's true.

What?! Hugo!

Sorry, is that not the gourmet way to make wieners? Hmm.

Why didn't I know about this?

In my defense, the pet mortuary I get the dog meat from is very respected!

Got to go.

Bye, Mort!

You don't know me!

Hugo, I've been eating a real wiener dog every day?

Now I don't even know if I can finish this one.

Nope, I can.

I guess this is for you.

Hugo, let me talk to him.

Maybe I can smooth this over.

Who likes milkshakes for free?

No dog in it.

It's chocolate, not chocolate lab. Ha, ha.

I'm not into... puns. (slurping)

Oh, you got a little chocolate mustache.

Oh. No, kind of looks... nice, actually.

Ooh, I just got the weirdest feeling inside.

Could be salmonella.

That's what most weird feelings inside are.

No, it's like, uh... something got on the wrong track... a long time ago.

It could also be diarrhea.

Hmm.

Come on, Ron.

Let's blow this hot dog stand.

I get it.

Children: Bye, Mr. Health Inspectors!

I admire you both. Bye.

Come on, Ron!

That's what would have happened.

Tina, you got dark, girl.

You got real dark.

That was... disturbing.

I need to go lie down.

I kind of want a hot dog.

So, that's it.

There's no such thing as fate.

Everything is randomness and chaos!

Uh-huh. A meteorite could crash into our house any second!

Any second.

No one is meant for anyone!

Not a soul! Tina, honey, it's okay, it's okay.

Everything is random, but that's what makes life so wonderful.

Sometimes all the crap in the universe lines up, like that night I met your father.

Or like the time I petted that dog and found a Cheeto. Yeah.

Everything lined up, and it came out Belcher.

How beautiful is that?

I mean, look at Gene.

Okay, don't look at Gene.

It's because my pants are off, isn't it?

I'm getting ready to exercise, and I don't want to sweat all over my Saturday shorts.

Tina, what your mother is saying is, maybe we weren't meant to be together, but we are together.

No, that's not what I was saying.

Well, I mean, I... what I... I meant that in a good way.

Bob. Yeah. Wait. I get it.

It was random fate that brought you together.

Fate is real.

It's just really random. No.

It makes perfect sense.

I feel so much better.

Okay, then, that's what it is.

Great talk, everybody.

Ow! This seat hurts my private parts!

Ah, who am I kidding? They're not that private.

Wait. Oh, my God, that's it!

What? What is? The bike!

Testicular failure!

I've been giving it to myself by riding the bike so much!

It's been squeezing your tchotchkes, and you didn't notice that?

I guess I didn't notice it over how much everything else hurt.

But the results are fantastic. Look at you!

I bet if I stop riding that thing, my mustache will grow back!

Yeah, or you keep riding and get the butt-stache surgery.

Both great options.

Maybe put it to a vote? No.

Maybe vote on whether to vote?

Well, that's fair.

All in favor of voting in favor for the butt-stache?

All opposed to no butt-stache?

Interesting. Oh, my God.

I'm moving out.

Hugo, did you ever feel we were... meant to be together?

Not this again, Ron!

Tina: ♪ It's called fate and it's great ♪ ♪ That's an easy way to remember it ♪ ♪ It's called fate and it's great ♪ ♪ That's an easy way to remember it ♪

Louise: No, no, no, no.

♪ Shave Dad's face ♪ ♪ Ooh, ooh ♪ ♪ Belcher kids are erased ♪ ♪ Ooh, ooh, ooh ♪

Gene: ♪ If Dad's lip has no hair ♪ ♪ Ooh, ooh ♪ ♪ We never come out of there ♪ ♪ Ooh, ooh, ooh ♪

Tina: ♪ It's called fate and it's great ♪ ♪ That's an easy way to remember it ♪ ♪ Call it fate... fate ♪ ♪ Or destiny... destiny ♪ ♪ Fate, fate, fate, fate... ♪ TINA: Fate is real. It's just really random.

Bob: No.

Tina: It makes perfect sense. I feel so much better.