Male OC x Louise Belcher | A Bob's Burgers Fanfic

🍔Food Truckin'🚚

I DO NOT own Bob's Burgers. 

This is just for entertainment purposes.

Tanner's POV: You know those metal vehicles where you drive it and also make and serve food to people? . . . That's a food truck. I've been checking out to see what's been happening and Louise, Gene, and Tina were at the window checking out the different food trucks.

Louise: I got a visual lock on sandwiches.

Gene: Where?

Louise: One o'clock.

Gene: 1:00? But I'm hungry now!

Tina: Are they ice cream, or regular?

Louise: Both.

Gene and Tina: Whoa.

Tanner: I'm intrigued. 

Louise: Keep it in your pants, guys.

Linda: Psst. Here comes your father.

Bob: Nice try. I saw you looking.

Tina: Mom says it's okay to look.

Gene: Yeah, we're married, not buried!

Bob: Look, I know you kids are excited about the food trucks that are stealing our business and bankrupting us.

Tina: I'm excited.

Tanner: I'm more so neutral.

Bob: What's so great about getting food from a truck? There's no sitting area. There's no bathroom. There's long lines. Who eats like that? Animals eat like that.

Linda: I don't know, Bob, I think it's nice. It's like camping. Except without all that awful nature.

Bob: It's just a trend, Lin, and anyway, say good-bye to the trucks, kids. Because tomorrow we are taking back the street.

Gene: And taking back the night! Respect for women! My body, my rules!

(Western music plays, a hawk screeches)

The following day, Tanner and the Belchers were outside, waiting for the trucks to come. It wasn't long until they spotted the convoy of food wagons.

Bob: Okay, we're gonna block all the spots in front of the restaurant. You ready? Go!

Everyone fanned out. The food trucks came barreling up the street -- passing the family as they tried to keep them from parking in front of the restaurant; however, the drivers seemed to have done this before since they seem to have the upper hand with maneuvering around the family.

One was parking really close as it was slowly approaching Tina . . .

Tina: Uuuuuhhh.

. . . Louise and Tanner were coming up with reasons as to not park . . .

Louise: Go away! This street's haunted.

Tanner: I'm Sgt. Alan Pierce! You're not permitted to park here! 

. . . Linda was being boxed in . . .

Linda: Bobby, they're everywhere. We're outnumbered. I told you we should've had more children!

. . . and Gene was even trying to hold on back as it was reversing.

Gene: (grunting): I'm just gonna let you tire yourself out.

Bob: Gene, stop! This was a terrible idea.

Louise: Plan B, Dad! I'm slashing tires!

Bob: No! Then they'll never leave.

Gene: I'll poison the tires.

Bob: Stop! You can't park here!

The guy that Bob was yelling at to move was none other then . . .

Bob: Oh my God. Randy?

Gene: It's the documentarian who hates Dad and puts wigs on cows.

Tina: Werner Herzog?

Randy: Oh, hello, Bob! I forgot you lived-slash-worked here.

Bob: Well, I do. And you're blocking my restaurant with your ridiculous food truck. "Ode to Soy?"

Randy: I'm soy excited that you like it.

Bob: I don't. What are you doing here? Are you making another documentary?

Randy: No. Filmmaking was just a hobby-tunity for me.

Bob: And now you own a food truck? How can you afford this?

Randy: Hmm... I have my ways, Bob. One of those ways is that I have inheritance from my grandfather. You'll be able to read all about my food trucking journey in my blook.

Linda: What's a "blook"?

Gene: A blonde cook.

Tina: Blooks have more fun.

Randy: No. It's a blog I'm writing that I'm turning into a book. And then probably a bloovie.

Bob: You-you can't take two words and make them into one stupider word, Randy.

Randy: Well, Bob, now you're not invited to the blemiere.