Ebinlauta

extra calcium to restore your skeletal rigidity

So, I’m sure you know the basis behind Bob’s Burgers. A middle-aged half-bald man with ED named Bob Belcher runs a burger restaurant with his wife and children, ignoring child labor laws and demanding that the family tablet be password locked so that he won’t watch hentai while berating the local fry cook. The episode alarmed me instantly. If a minute rice takes a minute to cook, it took Bob’s Burgers several seconds to deep fry my sanity, and my desire to continue watching the cutting room tape. The annoying girl with the bunny hat had scribbled on the menu board: “Today’s Special: nine foot worm makes own food.” Listen, I have no idea how the Belcher girl drew this, as it looked an awful lot like an animated GIF, but an animation of a nine foot worm was shown slithering into a man’s mouth, eating out his tongue, replacing his tongue, and slithering its way up his occipital lobe until it ate out his eye sockets and puked up human flesh chunks all over the screen. This disturbed me. How did it vomit onto the restaurant floor if it was just an animation?

Titular character Bob Belcher then burst through a door with a descending staircase, presumably leading to the basement. I gasped so hard that I lost my voice for the next 17 minutes. This was not the Bob Belcher that I would come to know and love! Bob Belcher’s eye sockets were entirely white, pupils turned up as if he was dead, and instead of having a big obnoxious bald spot his hair was entirely made up of snakes like a Medusa. I instinctively checked my arms and legs to check if I had turned to stone. I haven’t. “Hey kids, dinner’s ready.”, Bob insisted, reaching out his hands to show… what? I had to look closer. That wasn’t… that wasn’t food. Those were AA batteries. “I fetched it out of your mother’s gameboy.” Why did their mother have a Game Boy? Just then, the bunny girl laughed, but not all at once, but with pauses before she picked up a Nintendo Game Boy Color console and threw it right at her father’s skull. I flinched, as I recalled the times that my father would beat me for only showering once a month and spending all Summer doing nothing but flipping Nirvana CDs on my CD walkman as my greasy gender-bending hair flew crookedly like a homeless person, but no, this was worse than that. Bob’s head reacted in an unsightly way. His head… turned into a Big Mac. “EAT ME!!”, Bob screamed. “EAT ME BEFORE I BURN DOWN THE HOUSE!!” Bob Belcher ran around the screen chasing after his bunny hat daughter while highly distorted Benny Hill door chase music played and I threw up the lemon-lime pez from my Tweety Bird pez dispenser. What in tarnation was this? Oh, but it gets worse. Bob Belcher pinned down Louise (that’s her name apparently) and belched right in here fucking face, as flames erupted from his mouth and set the stovetop aflame. “What considerable timing.”, Bob exclaimed, before throwing his daughter onto the stove top and… I… I couldn’t believe it. Bob Belcher…

Bob Belcher was making french fries out of his daughter! He dipped her in the horrible, trans fatty (I can only assume) fry oil and tossed her into the vat as she presumably died instantly. I would have screamed loud enough for the neighbors to call the police if not for the fact that I still hadn’t regained my voice from the previous antics. Bob… Bob Belcher… he took a bite out of Louise’s hat! He then left her in the fry vat where her corpse presumably marinated. “All I ever wanted was to eat a hat. But father wouldn’t let me. Instead, I had to open a burger restaurant and kill my only daughter. I…” Bob started sniffing. Bob was crying. “I am so sorry…”. Just that, Bob’s androgynous Buddy Holly glassing daughter Tina ran up the stairs. “Dad, I thought I heard a noise—“ Bob Belcher shot Tina in the face. Well, not so much shot her in the face, but he belched from across the room and it formed some sort of green, mucusy paste substance in the air and engulfed her nostrils as a gas, or a liquid perhaps, I don’t know, but the animation showed it surrealistically emanating all the way up to her brain before her brain cartoonishly held up an “Exit, stage right.” sign and it… ah… it blew up. Chunks of brain matter rained down from the heavens (the roof was gone somehow) as Bob Belcher danced around, flapping his arms. “It’s raining men!” What the—Bob Belcher was making fun of his late daughter’s gender? I had just about had it with this episode until Bob’s special needs child son Gene fell down from the roof. He had what looked like an incontinence garment tied to his pants, perhaps a metaphor for his psychological handicap.

“Dad, I’m gay.” Bob belched in Gene’s face and his bones exploded and somehow, like claymation or stop motion or I don’t even know, over the span of maybe half a minute formed into a skeleton with a chattering jaw. It… it opened the refrigerator, grabbed what looked like an elongated candy cane of perhaps several feet, and Gene started dancing. Then he started… singing. “Burgers for breakfast, burgers for lunch/I failed out of school/My brain needs a crutch/And so are the people/Who enjoy this program/I know you’re watching this tape/Your name is…”. “Oh, shut the hell up.” Bob mumbled that quickly before belching out his loudest, presumably smelliest, most obnoxious belch yet. It was so repugnant, so massive, and throbbing, pulsating like a giant mutant teenage ninja turtle’s heart that had turned to a martian green from some sort of unholy shell parasite that rot it to the very fiber of its being, as the entire burger restaurant went up in flames and smoke, like the devil’s unholy joke, and it was. Just. awful.

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