King of the Hill

("Hit Me with Your Best Shot" by Pat Benatar)

Ooh, I'm hungry.

Time for breakfast.

Raven, you're gonna have to keep the beat without me.

Uh-oh.

Ah.

Ahh.

Drop that egg roll

if you want to keep your arm.

Dang it, Keith. You call this a smorgasbord?

It's just pans and hot water.

We need to get something straight, Buck.

The free buffet is a courtesy, not a right.

Oh, don't you get attitudey with me.

We got history. I was dropping 20s here

when all you had was an old tetherball pole.

Now... get me some fresh egg rolls.

Chop, chop.

Look here, Buck, don't make me exercise my right

to refuse service.

Why, you ungrateful snotty-faced little...

Oh. Don't say anything you'll regret.

Ahh! I'll rip your pock-marked little watered-down drink slinger.

Buck... you're no longer welcome in this establishment.

Kids.

Sir?

What are you doing here in the morning?

I've been kicked out of Jugstore Cowboys, Hank.

Banned for life.

10:35.

Right about now

Trixie's reloading her bandoleros with lollipops.

I know those dancers meant a lot to you, sir,

but there's more to life than gentlemen's clubs.

Like work.

Everyone would love to have you back in the saddle here at Strickland.

Work?

Well, I don't really see it, but...

I'll give it a shot.

Do you think those guys

will get mad if I run in

and yell, "Stop the presses!" again?

Tell you what, Bobby,

why don't you go make up a crime report?

If it sounds believable, we'll print it.

Mm.

Oh, I just spent a glorious day at the spa.

It's like the manicurist was the sheriff and my cuticles were outlaws.

She really cleaned up the town.

Mm-hmm. I'm on a deadline.

What's another word for "potato"?

Not "tuber," I've already used that twice.

But the best part is... didn't cost me a dime.

-How's that? -Ah.

I just flashed my Arlen Bystander press pass

and open sesame.

This thing we swipe to get into the parking lot?

Bobby, how's this for a headline?

"Woman Gets Free Stuff for Having Press Pass."

"Boy Also."

Now before we get started, I'd like to welcome Mr. Strickland

to our morning roundtable of new and ongoing projects.

Okay. Now last time Enrique proposed

moving the barbecue mitts from accessories over to apparel.

Let's kick it around.

Uh, I mean, you wear them, right?

But not as a fashion statement.

Both good points.

I think what Donna doesn't like is that it's my idea.

-Actually... -Ah. Aw, jeez.

Hang on, Donna.

Mr. Strickland is trying to get a word in edgewise.

I, uh, I forgot how high emotions run at these meetings.

You guys keep going. There's no time for nominations.

So, Donna... you're interim chair.

Oh, no.

Don't try and stop me.

I'm going to Jugstore Cowboys and apologizing to Keith.

At least I can look at some pretty girls while I eat crow.

I left... Oh, I left my keys inside.

Sir, coming back to work was the right choice.

Don't waiver. Come on. Let's go inside.

No. I hate work, Hank.

It's so God-awful boring.

How you don't kill yourself is beyond me.

Mr. Strickland, I want to show you how fun work can be.

Please, just give it another chance.

Hey, we could surprise the staff with ice cream.

That's fun.

Hmm.

Okay then.

Hi, welcome to Frozen Cow. What's your name?

Hank. Uh, strawberry for six adults, please.

We don't have strawberry.

We do have the Strawberry that Broke the Camel's Back.

Okay. Uh, that sounds pretty close.

And what mix-ins do you want with that? You get four.

Mix-ins?

Uh, I just want the ice cream.

Sure, Hank. But if you don't want mix-ins,

you're gonna have to wear this "I like nude ice cream" button.

While you're looking them over,

I'll get you signed up for our birthday club.

Hank, what's your Social?

How dare you?

Buck?

Ooh. Go, man, go.

Oh, oh, how's he gonna mix in all them Oreos?

Uh-huh, uh-huh. Here he goes.

That's how.

Sir, we need to get back to work.

I fell down a flight of stairs this morning.

-That's about it from my end. -Uh, that's better than my day.

I got hung up with Buck at that horrible new ice cream place.

You mean Frozen Cow Creamery?

Their commercials say, "They make ice cream fun."

Dang it, Dale, ice cream was already fun.

What's with all these perfectly good businesses

trying to cram extra fun into places it doesn't belong?

Yeah, man, it's like them dang old Southwest Airlines, man.

The dang old pilot get on there like a dang old night at The Improv, man.

They gotta go fly the dang old plane, man.

This is interesting, but I have to get dressed.

I'm going to a party at Arlen Ford.

Now that's what I'm talking about, Bill.

Those aren't real parties. Those are sales.

Sounds like someone didn't get invited.

Buck just called for you, honey. He's down at the Frozen Cow.

Again?

He's just trading one vice for another.

All I know is, he wants you to bring him some pants.

Hey, Ol' Top.

Here are your new pants, sir.

I got the "extremely relaxed" fit.

Thanks, Hank.

All my trousers seem to be wearing out at once.

Uh... I... I brought some paperwork...

Here's the deal.

I can win a gift certificate by naming the new cherry ice cream.

How do you like, uh, "Cherried Alive"?

Too creepy?

Look at yourself.

Sitting here all day, changing pants in public.

There's a spoon stuck to your elbow.

Do you even know that?

You don't need this place

or a strip club to be happy.

Yes, I do.

I'm physically addicted to the good times.

I understand that.

Sir, you have my word

that if you come back to Strickland Propane,

I will do everything in my power to prove to you that work can be fun.

Fun, huh?

Okay.

Our first order of business is a special hello to Mr. Strickland

-who is with us... -I'll take it from here, Hank.

Now, how do we make Strickland Propane fun?

Do you know? You? You?

Sir, this sounds like new business.

Ordinarily, we start with old business.

Here's the Frozen Cow operations manual,

which I stole from that white kid with the dreadlocks.

We gonna use this book to turn Strickland into the happiest propane dealer on earth.

Here's the first number we're gonna learn. Joe Jack,

let me hear your big pipes.

I know I said that work could be fun, but...

Shut up and take the tenor, Hank.

I can't hear you, Hank.

Sorry, uh, we don't sell 10, 20, and 30-gallon tanks anymore.

Our new sizes are

"Like it," "Love it,"

and "Don't Come Any Closer, I'm Insane for Propane."

Ah, I'll take the big one, I guess.

All right.