Lobsterfest

TV weatherman: Ocean Avenue is gearing up for this year's Lobsterfest, and that mean ol' tropical storm we've been watching is movin' out to sea, which means perfect weekend weather!

Ugh! Damn it!

So if you think you hear thunder, it's just my stomach growling.

(Laughing)

Ha!

I love Lobster.

This guy is unbelievable.

Stop pimping for Lobsterfest!

And start primping for Lobsterfest.

Mmm...

(Making goofy sounds)

Looking primpy.

No, no primping for anything!

Why are you so grumpy? Come on.

You know why.

It's no fun being a burger man in a seafood town.

I hate Lobsters and their stupid fest.

Plus, I'm allergic.

No, you're not.

Yeah.

I'm allergic.

Remember our first date?

Yeah, I remember our first date.

You were a nervous wreck.

♪ ♪

I was having an allergic reac... never mind.

Hey, what are you guys looking at over there?

Um, nothing.

Just pictures of people...

Doing it.

Oh. Hey, wait a minute.

That's not p0rn.

You brought a Lobsterfest brochure into this house?

Can we please go this year?

Absolutely not.

Ugh! But there's so much fun stuff happening.

Unveiling of the world's largest butter vat, for instance.

The coronation of the Lobster queen and her court of lovely Lobster maidens.

Entertainment by John van horton & the music extrusion.

Mm. I do love those guys.

As a matter of fact, gene, you were conceived to a jvh song.

And I plan to return the favor.

(Bell tinkling)

Oh, great. I mean, hi, Hugo.

You know, I couldn't help but notice, Bob, uh, yours is the only window on the street without a Lobsterfest poster in it.

Yeah.

Why might that be?

Well, because Lobsterfest is stupid!

What?

I'll handle this, Ron.

Put the sign up.

It's the law.

It's the law?

Martial law.

I'm grand marshal of the fest this year!

Hugo, such a fancy sash.

You look like sissy spacek in Carrie. Ha.

Oh, thank you.

But, Hugo, as a health inspector, you must know how disgusting Lobsters are, right?

They're bottom feeders that eat garbage all day.

Huh, they like garbage?

Then they must eat here!

(Laughs)

In your face, Bob.

And now in your window!

Come on, Ron.

Let's make like a Lobster and get the shell out of here.

All right.

(Bell tinkling)

Hey, my two best customers!

Two burgers coming up.

No burgers for me, Bob.

I'm saving my appetite for Lobsterfest.

None for me either, Bobby.

I just come by to show you my new Lobster cracker.

Check it out-- titanium with butter-resistant grips.

It's the one the astronauts used.

Teddy, you think the astronauts brought a Lobster cracker to space?

Yeah. That's what it says on the box. Look.

"The one the astronauts used in space!"

I spent $49 on this.

Hey, I bet you kids are old enough to crack your own claws this year, right?

We don't celebrate Lobsterfest.

What?!

We're like Jews on Christmas.

Or Jews for Jesus on hanukkah.

Or me at a lesbian bar.

Last night.

Watched a hockey game at a lesbian bar, Bob.

It was like I was invisible. Uh...

And who knows the name of the delicious paste that collects here in the pancreas?

Tomalley!

Correct.

(Clears throat)

Excuse me, miss labonz?

Yes, Louise.

My family doesn't observe Lobsterfest.

I should be excused from class, and/or given an a.

Thank you.

Good night.

Louise, I don't normally use this argument, but if everyone else is doing it, you should, too.

(Thunder crackles, rumbles)

Huh. Attention, students.

The tropical storm has changed course and has been upgraded to a hurricane.

It could hit town at any moment.

Don't worry.

We have an emergency plan.

It's called "talking it through."

Now, who here thinks the hurricane was caused by something bad they did?

What about you, Nicholas?

That thing you told me?

In confidence?

Say it.

I rub my genitals on the couch.

Mm-hmm.

We're all gonna die because of you!

(Screaming)

It's weather only a Lobster could love, but sadly, there will be no Lobsterfest.

This reporter is getting his bib off.

Ha, ha! Stupid, failure weatherman, and your failed Lobsterfest.

Where's your ugly red sea bug God now?!

All right, hold hands.

Come on, down to the basement.

Bob, we have to close.

A hurricane is coming!

I know. Isn't it great?

Lobsterfest is cancelled!

So this town is gonna be crawling with empty bellies ready to eat Bob's burgers, baby!

Bob, you're crazy.

I think you're crazy!

'Cause it's crazy not to sell burgers during a hurricane!

Bob's burgers is open for business!

(Thunder rumbling)

Oh.

(Electricity buzzing)

Is that all you got, storm?

Wind chimes! Aah!

(Angry muttering)

Bob, I'm not sure staying open is safe.

Suppose the hurricane tears right through here.

I'll chance it!

Look who I found trying to stay dry in the bounce house.

The entire royal court of Lobster maidens.

Oh, you poor things!

Welcome, your highnesseses.

Uh, you are henceforth known as the royal cows.

Bob!

Ah, well, something like that. (Laughs)

I'll go throw on some burgers.

Hot coffee coming up!

I'd really rather get my lips around that beer tap.

Hi, guys.

Hey, Gretchen!

Hi!

Oh, Lobster maiden!

Teddy, this is Gretchen.

She cuts my hair.

How you doing?

Hey, are you still working nights at the cop bar?

Nah, there was a groping incident.

(Gasps)

I apologized, but they fired me anyway. (Laughs)

Oh, she's too much.

Really is.

Hey, you open?

Mm-hmm.

You got food?

Yup.

Beer?

Absolutely!

Atmosphere?

Yeah... nnnn... eh...

Ah, good enough.

Whoa, Bobby.

I think this might develop into a party type situation!

You kids stay down in the basement.

I already picked a corner for the bathroom.

That one, where I went.

And I picked that corner.

Hey, we've got two bathrooms!

Mom, I'm coming up!

Linda: Just stay down there.

They're gonna need you to help repopulate the earth when this is all over.

Ew! You want us to mate with each other?!

Linda: No, you'll mate with the other kids in other basements.

Keep talking.

All right!

Jvh unplugged!

Look at all that wet gray hair.

Oh, Bobby, look at Hugo.

Oh, and poor wet Ron.

Yeah. Isn't it hilarious?

Bobby.

All right, I'll let 'em in.

I just want to give 'em a pressed ham first.

Stop it!

Come on, let me.

All right.

Sorry for using all of your napkins.

I want to thank you for bringing us in, Bob.

It was totally Linda's idea.

She is so damn considerate!

You have everything, and I have nothing.

God, so alone!

Mm.

(Slurps)

Lobsterfest was all I had.

And now that's gone, too.

Look at me.

I'm a joke!

Yeah, that's too bad.

Hey, Bobby, some of the Lobster maidens are open to the idea of a wet gown contest.

Want to put up a prize?

Uh, how about a towel?

Ha! Oh, my God.

That's so funny.

(Laughing)

Gretchen, have you, uh, met Hugo?

He was gonna be grand marshal at, uh, Lobsterfest.

Ooh. Nice sash.

Ever take it off?

Well, actually, on Monday, I have to dry-clean it and give it back.

Uh, Hugo, Gretchen is into authority figures.

Cops, firemen, even mailmen, if they have an important route.

Oh, my gosh. So am I!

What, you're into mailmen?

Well, if they have an important route.

I think what Bob's saying is, she likes a man with a badge.

You have a badge.

Hey, Gretchen!

Huh?

Hey, Hugo's also a health inspector.

That's like being a food sheriff.

This is my badge.

Mm. Kind of small.

You got a gun?

Uh, no. Actually, I'm not, uh...

Mm.

...Licensed to carry a firearm.

I do have a food safety thermometer, and it's very sharp.

Pull it out, Hugo.

Yeah, pull it out, Hugo.

(Laughing): Whoa! Watch out.

Here it is.

Ooh.

"Unsafe range."

I like my pork a little pink.

♪ ♪

(Humming)

Gene: Tina, what are you doing?

I'm working on my mating list for when we have to repopulate the world.

Let me see.

Gay. Gay.

Mythical creature.

Gay mythical creature.

Mm. Good luck.

Guys, we're wasting time here.

We got to sneak out.

Sneak out?

But there's a hurricane.

That's my point.

We should be out there, in the wind and rain, looting!

Looting?!

So how do we do this looting thing exactly?

It's easy.

You grab anything that's not nailed down.

Anything?

Like this brick?

It's yours.

Free brick!

Free quarter.

Free phone numbers.

Free seaweed.

Gene, free plywood.

Whee!

Hey, Bob, the cash register won't open, and you're serving burgers so fast, I don't even know who to get an iou from.

Relax, Linda. I'll take care of it.

Ugh.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, listen up, listen up.

You're all my friends.

And friends don't charge friends.

The burgers are free, people!

Everything is gonna be free!

Bob, I thought the point of staying open during a hurricane was to make money!

This is way more important than money, lin!

Lobsterfest is dead.

Bobsterfest killed it!

Crowd: Long live Bobsterfest!

(Whooping)

Looting is hard.

Ah, I think I'm getting loot glutes.

This stuff sucks.

Let's go home.

Hello.

What have we here?

Maybe he's lost.

Check his collar.

Get him, gene!

(Grunts)

Looks like this little guy got into some office supplies.

Yeah, those rubber bands don't look comfortable.

You should take 'em off.

Aah!

This is our one chance to see (Gene yelling)

What everyone else is talking about.

What do you mean?

Gene: Aah!

We're gonna eat Lobster tonight!

But that goes against everything we were raised to believe in!

Aah!

It doesn't go against everything.

(Chuckles) Okay, but it's a start.

Aah!

Now's our chance to taste the forbidden fruit that has been kept from us our whole lives.

Are you with me?

Yeah!

Okay.

And one man's generosity has turned Lobsterfest into bobsterfest.

We're trying to get a word with Bob himself here.

I love you, Scott bags!

Yeah, there's a cable on that.

You can't go all the way over there.

You come with me!

Yeah, okay.

You come with me!

Can I... can I get my mic back, please?

You come up and get it.

Give me the mic!

Crowd (Chanting): Bob! Bob! Bob...!

Whoa! Oh, wow!

This feels weird!

Hey, bro.

Did I hook you up or what, Hugo?

(Whooping)

Hey, where are we going now?

Over here?

Who decides which way we go?

There's Linda, my wife!

Hey, Linda, you look mad.

Let's go the other way.

Turn around. Bye, Linda.

How you feeling, Bob?

(Groans)

What?

Oh, my God. Lin!

The restaurant's destroyed.

The hurricane swept right through here-- we got hit!

Actually, the hurricane missed us, Bob.

It's beautiful out.

(Birds chirping)

You were the hurricane, schmuck!

(Groaning)

Hey, Gretchen.

(Sighs)

Do you have some sweat pants I can put on?

Uh... Linda.

I don't feel well.

I can't even look at you.

I don't feel well.

I did this?

You and the mob you incited with free beer and burgers.

Oh, who bent my little spindle thing?

That's what you notice?!

Okay, lin, it looks bad now, but we made a lot of new friends last night.

Once word spreads that Bob needs help, this place will be jammed again.

The biggest problem is gonna be finding a job for everybody who wants one.

Gee, I'm worried about this; I really love it.

♪ ♪

Louise: Okay, technical problems from last night have been resolved.

Hair dryer plus waffle iron plus toaster equals boiling water.

So how do we kill this guy before we boil him?

We could teach the Lobster to drive and wait until it gets into an accident.

Or we could hire an assassin.

No, idiots, you boil Lobsters alive.

What?!

That doesn't sound right.

Yep. Until he's dead.

And then we boil him some more.

Here we go.

Wait, this does not feel right.

Doing it in a dark room with toilet paper around my neck?

I thought my first time eating Lobster would be special.

Deejay: And now please join Mr. and Mrs. Jimmy junior as they eat their first Lobster!

Mmm, mmm...

I thought my first time eating Lobster would be different, too.

(Crowd cheering)

People (Chanting): Gene! Gene!

They're waiting for you in the hot tub, gene.

Excellent!

Whee!

(Grunting)

And the next day do it again-- same songs, different Lobsters.

What's the matter with you two?

Come on, Louise, is this really how you imagined your first time?

Yes.

(Sighs)

Okay, not quite.

Man: Louise, today you pay the super price for your super crimes.

Enjoy your last meal.

It'll do just fine...

In a pinch!

Aah...!

Maybe we have been rushing things.

I want to wait till I'm ready.

Let's not give in to peer pressure.

Let's release the Lobster back into the supermarket from whence he came!

I guess you're right.

Looks like this guy'll be the one that got a... whoa! Woops!

I guess we're having Lobster.

It was meant to be.

When you get married, just pretend it's your first time eating Lobster.

No problem.

Emcee: Down it comes!

This stunning butter sculpture, the likeness of Julia child, was made from every available stick and pat of butter within the local and outlying communities. Oh!

And there goes Julia's feet!

What?!

Lobsterfest is back on?

Hey, guys, um, you're not going to Lobsterfest, are you?

Uh...

Uh...

I'm in kind of a bind, fellas.

There's a mailbox in the middle of my restaurant.

Oh! Can you mail this for me?

Wait. Hey, guys?

There he is, my buddy, Hugo! Hi.

Oh, hi, Bob.

Hi, Bobby.

What are you both doing right now?

My, uh, place, uh, happened to get destroyed last night.

Oh, really?

Yeah.

In the middle of...

Bob, I'm very busy.

I have tables and tables of bisque to judge.

Hey, I hooked you two up last night, and you guys kind of broke the baby-changing station in the bathroom.

(Giggles)

Slap him with a citation, Hugo.

I want to watch.

Baby likes civil authority?

Yes, I love civil authority.

I'll show baby civil authority.

Stilts guy!

You fell through my window.

Lot of glass on the floor.

Where you going?

Got to go, Bob!

If I stay still too long, I fall over!

P-people! Wait! Stop!

Wait! People!

Do you think you can just ignore me?!

Well, as far as accidental death goes, this one was pretty tasty.

Gene: I feel tingly.

Do you feel tingly?

I think he's having an allergic reaction.

We should do something.

Yeah, let's sit on him and see if he pops.

(Both yelling)

No, we should take him to Lobsterfest.

They have a medical tent.

And I could get more Lobster!

Oh, pop!

(Grunting) I'm trying!

(Continues grunting)

Emcee: Let's hear it for John van horton and the music extrusion!

Uh, it's me. Bob!

Bob. Bob. Bob.

Bob (Chuckles): Okay...

Settle down.

Listen, what's going on here?

What are we doing?

Last thing I remember, you were all in my place and it was bobsterfest.

I want to get back to that.

Let's go back to that!

Or at the very least, 40 or 50 of you come with me right now and help me clean up the restaurant!

Not all at once.

Man: Clean it yourself!

Whoa, dad's on the stage at Lobsterfest.

My eyes don't work.

Paint me a word picture.

Kids? What are you doing here?

Nothing.

What's wrong with gene?

He looks horrible.

He looks like he always looks.

No, he doesn't. Does he?

Looks like an allergic...

(Gasps)

Did you eat Lobster?!

I, uh...

He refuses to answer that.

What's wrong with you people!

Look at my son!

Hello.

You did this!

You and your disgusting food fetish!

Bob, get off the stage!

You're disorderly.

Oh, yeah? Maybe I should get disorderly with this Lobster pot here.

That's right, you heard me-- you trash my restaurant, I trash Lobsterfest, starting with this Lobster pot.

Ow! It's hot.

Let's leave that alone.

Oh, but I-I see some butter.

You wouldn't like it if someone messed with your precious butter!

Like stuff a big, hairy toe in it!

(People screaming)

Bob, put your foot back in your sock slowly.

I'm authorizing myself to use my brand-new beanbag gun to subdue you.

Excuse me, I'm sorry, excuse me, excuse me.

Bob! No!

This isn't you!

This is me, Linda!

This is the me that they made!

And look what they did to our son.

That's not how he normally looks, is it?

Bobby, listen to me.

Excuse me, I'm sorry, oh...

Bob: You don't have to keep moving!

You're not a bottom-feeder, Bob!

(Quietly): No, I'm not a bottom-feeder.

I'm a burger man.

(Sniffles)

All right, I'm leaving.

I'm sure that's what everybody wants.

Oh, what happens if I-- oh, woops!

Ow!

(People screaming)

Bobby, are you okay?

Excuse me, uh, excuse me.

Oh, my God!

All the butter's been contaminated by Bob, and there isn't any more in town!

(Screams)

Bob destroyed Lobsterfest!

Can't you just eat Lobster without butter?

No! How?

That's an outrage!

Well, why don't you call it butterfest?

It brings out the succulence, jerk!

Yeah!

So what should we do with him?

Throw him in the shell pile!

Shell pile?

Shell pile! Shell pile!

All (Chanting): Shell pile! Shell pile! Shell...

Oh, boy.

Excuse me, excuse me, sorry.

Maybe Bob shouldn't have threatened your butter, and he definitely should have charged you for the burgers.

Boo...!

But he opened his beautiful heart last night, and you boiled it alive like a Lobster!

All you're doing is making us angrier!

(Muffled): Shell pile!

All (Chanting): Shell pile!

Sorry, Bobby, I used a bad analogy.

Hugo, this doesn't seem right.

What?

I have a girlfriend; Bob's about to be thrown on to a shell pile--

I've had this exact fantasy.

Ron: Come on, Hugo.

If Bob hadn't been your wingman last night, you'd be another lonely guy in a satin sash.

I was doing fine!

I don't need a wingman!

Oh, no?

♪ Wingman ♪ ♪ flying with the eagles ♪ ♪ wingman ♪ ♪ he's trying to help you out ♪ ♪ wingman ♪ ♪ wingman, wingman ♪ ♪ wingman, wingman... ♪

Agh! Damn it, Ron!

Hugo: All right, attention, people!

Stop it, everyone!

Slow down!

I'm the health inspector.

Someone once told me that's like being the food sheriff.

This vat of butter isn't contaminated by Bob until I say so!

I have with me a dairy purity spectrometer.

Oh...

Now, give me some room.

Give him some room!

Thank you, Gretchen.

Ow! You stabbed me!

That's just epinephrine.

You're in anaphylactic shock.

Mm, you're a handsome shrimp.

You just jumped to the top of my list.

It's a mating list for when the world ends.

Can I get your e-mail?

No.

I have finished my butter analysis.

Bob's skin flakes, arm hair and fingernail dirt are all present.

Crowd: No! That's disgusting!

Let me finish!

They're present, but not at threatening levels.

The butter is grade c to d-minus.

Fit for everyone except babies and people with compromised immune systems.

In other words, get your bib on!

(Cheering, whooping)

Man, that was the best Lobsterfest ever.

Yeah. Turns out people are hard on the outside and soft on the inside.

Like, uh...

Like, uh...

Uh...

Oh, I don't know, like a... like a crab.

Yup. People are just like crabs.

And we witnessed the birth of a new tradition-- every year on Lobsterfest Eve, we trash Bob's place.

No, no, no, no.

Right?

Let's start now!

(Grunts)

Gene, you swear you didn't have Lobster?

You've always looked like this?

I was born like this.

Uh, I need a picture to compare.

Oh, my God, you do always look like this.

Gene: Hello, gorgeous!

(Sexy growl)

Bob, Linda.

Hey, Hugo.

Where's Gretchen?

She's a firecracker, that Gretchen.

You sure she's not more than you can handle, Hugo?

Gretchen just broke up with me.

She said she was more than I could handle.

Oh.

It was ugly.

She said she didn't mind a small badge, but said I didn't know how to use it, Bob!

Ow.

Ouch.

Oh, that's too bad.

I don't need your pity!

So, here we are.

Surprise inspection!

Teddy: Oh.

Pencil!

Pencil.

Pad!

Pad.

Ooh, bent spindle.

Ron! Shut it down!