Okay, for the punk look,
you need to lose the sleeves. - Ahh!
- Shred the shirt. - My pleasure. Ah! - And now for your hair,
definitely spikes, red spikes. - Hmm. - Punk is all about attitude. No matter what we say,
just say, "Whatever." Carlota, you start. - Ooh, Bobby, did you hear Abuela
made albondigas for dinner? - [gasps] Really? My favorite. I mean, whatever. - Try again,
and roll your eyes. - Uh, whatever, whatever, whatever, whatever. Uh-oh, I think I rolled my eyes
too hard. They're stuck. - Now let's work
on your punk stage presence. Cool stance, shrunk shoulders,
lift your pick and look angry. - Yeah, you know,
that face you make when I poop
on the mercado floor? <i> [rock guitar riff]</i> - Argh. [rock music] [guitar string twangs] - Bobby, what are you wearing?
You look like a Bobo. - A punk Bobo.
Bobby, I think you're ready. - Thanks so much, you two.
Love you or whatever. - Ay, my guitar. [grumbling] [rock music] - Nice makeover. - Whatever, man. Give me those lyrics. Got it. Make some room, bro.
One, two, three, four. ♪ Rice in the microwave
heat it up ♪ ♪ Cold pizza moldy bagel,
eat it up ♪ ♪ Samosa, dosa, back to back ♪ ♪ Don't talk to me,
this is my ♪ all: ♪ After-school snack ♪ ♪ After-school snack,
after-school snack ♪ ♪ ♪ - Whoa. We had you wrong.
Welcome to the band, man. - Whatever.
- Oh, no. Did I miss rehearsal? - Don't worry, bro.
Bobby's got this. - Bobby? Where is he? - 'Sup, Par Dog. - Bobby, what did you... [phone rings] Ah, Maybelle,
another mango emergency? [groans] I'll see you guys at the show. - Whatever. - [humming] [doorbell chimes] [gasps] Oh, no. Aha. 'Sup, dudes? - What's up?
Par told us you work here. So we thought
we'd come hang out. - Sure thing, dudes.
Help yourself to whatever. - Oh, Bobby,
Par delivered my mangos, but he forgot to dice them. Would you be a dear?
Half inch cubes. - Hey, cut up your own fruit,
lady. Am I right? [laughter] - Right? Just a sec, Maybelle. - Bobby.
- There you go. - A little help over here.
- Whoa! - The boys want
teriyaki flavor. - Whatever, man. [both snickering] Teriyaki time, little guys. - Oh, full service over here.
What a guy. - Roberto,
what's with your hair? And where's your apron? - Uh, it was stained. - [grumbling] - Ugh, so lame you have to
work with that grumpy old dude. - Yeah. I hate working here. So lame. - [grumbling] Here, mijito, I have
another apron for you. Hope it's not too "lame." - Listen, man. You can wear an apron
if you want, but I'm cool. Got it?
- [grumbling] - Ha, nice. Well, catch you later, Bobby. - [grumbling] So now you not only dress
like a Bobo, you act like one too?
Take the day off. - Ohh! <i> - Malagradecido.</i> - What am I doing?
I can't lead a double life being Punk Bobby
and Bobby Bobby. Oh, right now
I'm just sad Bobby. [rock music] ♪ ♪ - Whoa, why are you wearing that dorky establishment
apron again? - Here, wear this instead.
You're one of us now. - [sighs] Guys, I appreciate the chance
to join the band. But the truth is,
that guy you played with wasn't the real me,
and I love this apron. I'm sorry.
Good luck with the gig. - I thought you were playing
with Par's band. - I'm not cool enough. - [laughs] Oh, please.
Those guys aren't that cool. Why don't you show me
what you got, huh? And do it your way, okay? - Ahh. ♪ Mercado all day,
homework all night ♪ ♪ Last thing I wanna do
is fight fight fight ♪ Ahh. - [chuckles] You sound pretty good to me,
Santiago. In fact,
why don't you play with me? I'm opening the show today. - It would be an honor. [rock music] ♪ ♪ - ♪ Mercado all day ♪ ♪ Homework all night ♪ ♪ The last thing that I wanna
do is fight fight fight ♪ ♪ Tryna help my Abuelo
and text my girl ♪ ♪ Hard work for a nice guy
in a not-so-nice world ♪ ♪ Can we put down our egos
and just be amigos? ♪ ♪ I bet we can vibe
if I could jam contigo ♪ ♪ Nice guys at last?
Not so fast ♪ ♪ Just join mi hombres ♪ ♪ And let's hit the gas ♪ all:
Bobby! Bobby! Bobby!
