What sound could possibly be funnier than Tina’s adolescent groan of joy and/or sorrow? Only one thing now: Linda’s adenoidal grunts and moans as she tries to conjure up a psychic vision for all of the customers in the restaurant.
You see, due to a pair of easy coincidences, Linda and the kids are now convinced she has the gift of clairvoyance. For at least one day, she tries to use her powers for the benefit of the customers. And the kids try to use them to their financial advantage, having mom pick a horse for them to bet on (the delightfully named Gelding The Lily).
If sending Mort off to the accountant with a spring in his step and Teddy off to potentially find the love of his life wasn’t crazy enough, Linda calls a police tip line and incredibly gives them the right information about where to find the ridiculous Dippy the Dog statue that has disappeared from the waterfront. With that coup, Sergeant Bosco comes calling, looking for help on capturing the Little Boy Bandit, a pint-sized thief who has been robbing stores around town.
As if her trying to guess the fates of her customers wasn’t funny enough, Linda’s attempts to suss out a clue looking at their map marking off the shops that were hit. (Linda: “He seems to only be robbing places that have little red flags on them!”) Or her insisting her powers are waning because she’s hungry. (“Bosco: “Okay, lunch.” Linda: “Oooh, does that mean we get free hot dogs from the cart?” Bosco: “I do. You don’t.”) Credit Gary Cole for giving all of Bosco’s lines a nice twinge of gravelly frustration throughout.
Impressively or coincidentally, Linda turns out to help the case because the jockey for the horse that she inadvertently chose for the kids turns out to be the Little Boy Bandit. Leave it to Tina to figure it out when she goes to try to get the horse’s autograph and he reveals the roll-y shoes and wig that are trademarks of the thief. Bob calls in the cavalry, and the day is saved, and Linda gets another small bit of justification for her psychic efforts. That is until Bob falls down the stairs to the storeroom as she predicted.
Not a barnburner of an episode, really. Just a rock solid one, with an outlandish premise sold at every turn by the great voice talent on the program. They do give awards for that, don’t they? If not, I think the Emmys or Golden Globes should create one just to show their support of the full cast of this show. Or we should, simply by watching them every week and keeping Bob’s Burgers in our lives for decades to come.
Robert Ham is a Portland-based freelance writer and regular contributor to Paste. You can follow him on Twitter.