That night, Larry sat in the passenger seat in Bob's car, providing moral support. Bob nearly turned back twice, but Larry was in charge of his phone, preventing him from texting Petunia to cancel. Larry was glad to help his buddy. Maybe if Bob was successful with Katrina, Larry could psyche himself up to ask Petunia out before some French guy caught her eye.
At last the tall sign and bright lights for Stuff-Mart loomed ahead. As Bob pulled into the parking lot, Larry spotted Petunia's car near the front entrance. Bob steered over to the space right next to hers, and Larry spotted her in the driver's seat, typing on her phone.
Slipping quietly out of Bob's car, Larry used his own phone to tap on her window. She looked up, and her sudden smile warmed him right through.
"How are you guys?" she asked as she climbed out of her car.
"Really wishing I suggested somewhere other than Stuff-Mart," Bob muttered.
"I think it's cute," Petunia reassured him. "Most of my parents' earliest dates were shopping for ramen together when they were in college. Mom says they really got to know each other just through hanging out like that."
Bob looked up, hopeful. "Really?"
"Really, really."
Bob seemed to consider her words. "Well… I guess flowers are slightly more impressive than ramen."
"Speak for yourself," Larry quipped.
"Maybe if I changed my look, it would be better," Bob considered, gazing up at the few specks of stars visible in spite of the parking lot lights. "Think I can grow a mustache in time for my date?"
"Oh, that reminds me of a dream I had!" Larry spoke up, with an excited hop. "All of us lived in the same house, but we were teeny, tiny vegetables who made a town around the furniture, and Archibald was our mayor, and Bob grew a frosting mustache to win a karaoke contest, and I got to be LarryBoy for real, and my arch nemesis was this potato who sounded like Rob Paulsen!"
Bob gave a friendly roll of his blue eyes. "Only you, Larry."
Petunia, meanwhile, smiled at Bob. "You just need a little practice, Bob. You already asked Katrina out, so we can now focus on helping her see the awesome guy you really are."
She gave Bob a friendly bump with her hip.
For some reason, Larry flinched, but he inwardly laughed it off. He knew Petunia meant it platonically, and, really, he was glad Petunia got along with his best friend. His older brother, Mark, once dated a girl who always argued with their little brother, Steve, and the constant strife had burnt Mark out eventually. Larry never wanted to go through that himself, so Petunia and Bob being buddies was a sign of smooth sailing.
Together, the three strolled through the automatic doors, getting a blast of air conditioning which felt pleasant. In three cardinal directions fluorescent lights lit the way through the maze of merchandise ranging from food to pet toys, furniture to exercise equipment, light-up shoes to backscratchers. The chemical smell of regularly cleaned tiles, Freon, and hotdogs from the snack counter mixed to form that unique Stuff-Mart aroma. Murmurs of shoppers mixed with the poo songs playing over the sound system, with the occasional squeak of carts.
As they hopped over the entrance's floor mats, Petunia swerved to the left and grabbed one of the small blue baskets.
"You know, maybe while I'm here, I can grab some nail polish, if you fellas don't mind."
Larry and Bob stared at her.
"Why?" Larry asked, but she was already heading toward the cosmetics aisle and didn't seem to hear.
They navigated their way to the cosmetics aisle, an area which Larry hadn't personally explored before. Petunia grabbed a few things from a colorful shelf, then hopped around to the other side of the case, scanning rows of women's body wash and other stuff.
"Oh, they moved my favorite shampoo to a higher shelf," she noted, gazing up at a line of bottles with pictures of the same model with red hair. She attempted to reach for it, then looked about as if searching for a step stool. Larry was about to grab it himself, but Petunia turned to Bob.
"Give me a boost?" she asked. "I wouldn't want to bother a busy employee for something I can get myself."
Bob looked skeptical, but he complied, reaching for Petunia's knees and pulling her toward him in an invisible hug.
A flash of annoyance streaked through Larry, but he pushed it down. That was a silly reaction (and not the kind he was well-known for).
Bob gently lifted her. After a few attempts, Petunia grabbed a bottle of strawberry shampoo and popped it into her basket.
"Thanks," Petunia smiled at Bob as he lowered her. "I don't mean to take away from you practicing for Katrina, but I know if I didn't grab this stuff now, I might drive all the way home before I remembered."
Bob grinned. "I get it. That's what happens to me if I don't bring my shopping list."
He released her — a second or two after he should have, in Larry's opinion — and the three friends made their way to the plant department.
It was like stepping into a neatly maintained forest meadow. The smell of soil greeted them as soon as they passed through the automatic doors, and the night air felt warm and slightly humid after they had been so long in the air conditioning. White spotlights revealed a screened-in area filled with potted trees, rows of seasonal ferns and rainbows of blossoms, bookcases of seed packets, coils of garden hoses, and parked forklifts waiting to be used. Working fountains and waterfalls on display provided a gentle white noise that mixed with the music humming through the speakers, and gave the air a clean, misty fragrance which mingled with the floral scents.
"Now what?" Bob asked, scanning the verdant merchandise.
"We try what we did the other day," Petunia replied, "but this time you can pretend I'm Katrina. Imagine you and her just arrived together, and…"
She looked at him encouragingly.
"And?" he repeated blankly.
"Maybe you can start with the plants you came to look at."
"Makes sense." Bob cleared his throat. "Then, ah, this way, um, 'Katrina.'"
Bob guided them toward the aisle of big ferns, which Larry did not know the names of but which made Petunia's face light up with recognition. Even though Petunia knew a lot about plants, she asked Bob questions, getting him to find his comfort zone through talking about his passion. It seemed to work. The more Bob listed off the pros and cons of Boston ferns and Japanese painted ferns, the more he slipped into a chipper demeanor. He threw in a few jokes, which set Petunia giggling.
They sure do have a lot in common, Larry noticed.
Bob tended to be serious, but he was also cheerful and friendly when he felt comfortable with a vegetable, especially a fellow plant lover. Petunia could be goofy and playful when she hung out with Larry, but she could also display a calm dignity in social situations. If Aunt Ruth had been there, she would have said they — what was that fancy word again? — complemented each other.
Which is why they make such good friends, Larry told himself, but he regarded them warily.
Did Petunia usually walk that close to Bob?
Did Bob always look that relaxed around her?
Passing a display of gardening gloves, Larry impulsively grabbed a pair and used them to slap his face, trying to knock himself back into reality. Bob was here because he liked Katrina, not Petunia. Bob also knew Larry's feelings for her. Even if the tomato was interested — which he was not — Bob would not try to woo Petunia right in front of his best friend.
Sometimes I could be too silly for my own good, he told himself as he slipped the gloves back onto the display.
They continued along the boscage of houseplants, following the concrete path toward a series of cases. Petunia halted, mid-sentence, and gave a little hop of delight.
"Ooh! Bob, look!"
Bob followed her gaze and brightened. "Wow, what a sale!"
Bright yellow signs had been attached to a tall case filled with tiny plastic flower pots grouped in clear sleeves. Five sleeves for the price of two. Petunia and Bob were practically salivating as they drew close.
"And there's a stepstool this time!" Petunia cried happily, rushing to grab one with two steps which sat a few feet away.
She scattered up the steps, reaching for the nearest sleeves — but immediately the stool wobbled. Petunia vainly tried to grab hold of something to steady herself, and the stool shot out from under her, sending her into open space.
Larry yelped, springing forward, but Bob was closer and quicker. In the split second it took Petunia to to cry out in alarm, Bob caught her in a neat dip.
The plastic pots bounced and rolled across the tiles, some under the display cases.
Petunia sat up in Bob's invisible grasp. "Whew! That was close."
Bob smiled with relief. "Glad all that training I did to play Thingamabob had a real-world application."
"You said it!" she tittered, giving Bob a grateful look.
The kind of look which made Larry's stomach drop.
He cleared his throat, causing the two glance at him.
"You okay, Petunia?" he asked.
"Oh, sure," Petunia answered breezily as Bob helped her to her feet. "It was just a tiny fall, after all, but thank God for Bob."
Larry wiggled his shoulders. "Well, uh, you know, I was thinking just now… like right now… um, roleplaying is good and all, but maybe Bob needs to watch somebody else too?"
"Like who?"
His stomach twisted like it was trying to become a pretzel factory. His throat constricted, but he did not want to fall silent now, when so much was at stake.
Summoning his courage, he managed to say, "Maybe… I can play Bob? For a while?"
Bob's eyebrows shot up.
"That sounds a little counterproductive," Petunia pointed out. "Bob's been doing okay so far."
Bob, however, surveyed Larry for a second in silence. Slowly, sympathetic understanding appeared in his eyes.
"Sure, buddy," he smiled kindly. "Show us how it's done."
Bob retreated to a distance of a few feet while Larry continued their trek at Petunia's side. He tried to think of Bob-like thoughts to get him into character. He tried to twist his wide open into a Bob-like expression. When he felt ready, he turned to Petunia.
"Hi, Katrina, I'm Bob, and I like being organized and serious."
"My voice isn't that scratchy," Bob muttered from behind them.
Petunia smiled. "Hi, Bob, I'm Katrina. I'm glad you invited me to look at plants with you."
"I sure do love plants," Larry nodded, surveying the merchandise. "Yep, plants are awesome."
"I agree."
"You know who really likes plants?" Larry went on. "My good friend, Petunia. She's an awesome plant-grower-person."
"You're sweet to say so," she grinned. "So, what's your favorite plant, Bob?"
"My pet fern, Raymond."
"What about here?"
"Oh, I like all these plants," Larry replied. "Why, if I had enough money, I'd buy every pretty plant in the world!"
"It's not entirely untrue," Bob remarked with a smile.
Petunia looked like she was struggling not to laugh. They were passing pots of blooming flowers, and she picked one up.
"What do you think of these daisies, Bob?" she asked pleasantly.
"I know my good friend, Petunia, likes daisies," Larry replied. "She grows them every spring."
"What about these packets of daffodil seeds?" she asked, gesturing toward a nearby display. Her blue eyes glittered with fun.
"Petunia grows great daffodils," Larry chirped (in a Bob-like way). "You should see them sometime!"
Petunia gave him a playful pout. "Bob the Tomato, you shouldn't keep talking about Petunia when you're out with Katrina."
"But it's easy to talk about Petunia," Larry replied. "She's awesome."
Petunia rolled her eyes, smiling. "Then why aren't you at Stuff-Mart with her then?"
"Oh, I could never do that to my best friend, Larry."
Petunia stopped stock still. "What do you mean?"
Too late, Larry clamped his mouth shut.
"Oh, look, a sale on cacti," Bob said quickly, retreating a few steps. "I'll just be over here…"
Larry wanted to beg Bob not to leave them alone at such a perilous time, but he seemed to be rooted in place, unable to tear himself away from Petunia's imploring eyes.
Why, oh, why am I so good at getting into character? Larry lamented. He had ruined everything.
An odd light passed over Petunia's stunned countenance. She took a step toward him.
"Why would Larry care if Bob spent time with Petunia?"
"Well, uh, Larry…" He gulped. "Larry would… he would… he… wants… to be Petunia's… really good friend…"
"But of course he's Petunia's friend," she said softly. "A dear, dear friend."
"A-And Larry thinks the same about Petunia."
"But why would Larry care if Bob spent time with her instead of Katrina?" she pressed, moving a little closer.
"Because… because…"
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He couldn't stop this now that it had finally started; he might as well try to salvage what he could.
Clenching up his face, he forced himself to say, in a Bob-like way: "Because Larry cares about Petunia a lot."
He peeked at her face, expecting her to give him that surprised, embarrassed look which Vicki had worn when she told him about her boyfriend. Instead, she ducked her head, smiling.
"Well, Bob, do you mean platonically?" she murmured. "Or a different way?"
Her lack of disgust gave him a little more courage. He shuffled forward slightly.
"Larry wants to be what's comfortable for Petunia," he explained. "He likes being friends with her, but… he's afraid she'd stop liking him if he asked her to be… his special friend."
"I don't think that would make Petunia stop liking him."
Relief hit him like a tsunami.
"It wouldn't?" he probed.
"No, in fact" — she raised her shining eyes — "it would probably make her like him more."
"Platonically, or in a different way?" he asked quickly.
"If Larry were to ask her to be his… special friend, I think Petunia would feel honored. And glad. Very glad."
He straightened, taking in the affection in her expression. Was he actually hearing her right? Or was she only acting out what she thought Katrina would say because she was still in character?
He had to make sure.
"If Petunia just wanted to stay regular friends, Larry would totally understand," he blurted out. "If she didn't like him that way, he'll be totally cool with that, 'cause he loves her too much as a friend to lose her."
She adjusted her hold on her basket.
"Larry… loves Petunia?" she breathed.
"Would that weird Petunia out if she knew?" he asked desperately.
To his relief, she shook her head. "Not in the slightest."
"Good," he squeaked. "Because if she only wants to do friendship love, or brother- and sister-in-Christ love, Larry would totally be cool with that. But if she would… like to be his… special, special friend…"
He halted, checking her face. Petunia met his gaze, her eyes moistening, and she formed a smile that nearly knocked the air out of him. Slowly, she nodded.
Larry at once brightened. "She would?"
"Yes, Larry," she said. "I would."
Larry gave a hop of joy, moving forward to pull her toward him — but then stopped, blushing, not sure if it was too soon for that. Wonderfully, however, Petunia glided forward and met him in a wonderful embrace, pressing her cheek against his.
She had given him a lot of hugs over ten years, and this one was now Larry's new favorite.
When they rejoined Bob afterwards, the tomato suggested they head on out.
"It's getting late," he said mildly, examining the fishing rod he had selected for himself. "We all got rehearsals tomorrow."
"How are you feeling though, Bob?" Petunia asked, still nestled against Larry. "Ready for your date with Katrina?"
"I think so," Bob said sheepishly. "But you were right, Petunia."
"Which part?" she smiled.
"Roleplaying is great for helping a guy work up the nerve to talk to the girl he likes." He formed a smirk. "Right, Larry?"
Larry heated, and he could tell Petunia blushed as well. Even so, he wore a big smile until he had to say goodnight to his new (and extra) special friend.
THE END
Interestingly enough, there are a surprising amount of Bob/Petunia moments in the Netflix canon. For example, in "Bob & the Awesome Mustache", Bob actually flirts with Petunia when he gives her a flower. ("I don't know if you dropped that, but it looks like it belongs in your hands.") She also shows more PDA with Bob than other characters (even Larry). In "Bacon be Tomato", they danced together twice in the ending song, and Bob actually dips her.
Of course, it's common among many Christians to hug each other in a family-like way, even with complete strangers (such as visitors to church), which gets mistaken by secular viewers as romantic. (One of the false accusations which Nero lobbed against Christians in 64 AD was that they committed incest, due to calling each other "brother" and "sister.") So, in all likelihood, that's what was intended by the VT crew, but it would be amusing if Larry got the wrong impression, haha.