King of the Hill

Welcome to the Audubon Society's 43rd

and Peggy Hill's First Annual Backyard Bird Count.

Look!

The rare and beautiful Texas Nuthatch.

Well, write it down, people! Write it down!

I have asked our Native American friend, John Redcorn,

to join us as our expert bird identifier.

My people believe when the world was new,

the creator made all the birds.

He colored their feathers and told them to greet each day

with a chorus of songs.

Why you stop fooling around with that John Redcorn?

He is so smoking, smoking hot.

Hey, Dale's hot, too...

in his own way.

Gribble team ready.

I'm assuming you'll want the heads for identification purposes.

You're supposed to count the birds, Dale.

Eventually, they will be counted.

-Oh! A bird! -(coos)

It's so, so beautiful.

Hmm. Ow. Get... get off. Get off!

Get off! Get off me!

Dangit, Dale.

You are a professional exterminator.

You said you could handle this.

I'm on it.

These birds don't stand a chance

against this ultrasonic bird distress emitter.

I was up all night listening to sounds that'll drive you crazy.

How long does this have to go on for?

Forever!

Scram.

Move!

Scoot. Go.

I can't get inside these pigeons' heads!

Bill, you're a filthy flocking animal.

Would this scare you?

Ooh.

No.

That's it.

This job is too much for me.

It's time to bring in the big gun,

the top-shelf pigeon exterminator of Heimlich County,

the pigeon god.

Well, great. Call him up.

She's a woman, and are you a fool?

The pest-control world

isn't your fuzzy-colored, propane candyland

where you can just call people.

To get the baddest of the baddest ass,

promises must be exchanged,

payola paid,

reputations put on the line.

Sounds kinda scary.

Oh, it is, and then some.

If the pigeon god,

or to her parents, Sheila Refkin, Ph.D.,

decides to stoop down to help our piddly little cause,

it will be as if witnessing the beginning of time!

Three more days and I am 21.

Whoo! This is so exciting.

I'm gonna be so much older and maturer.

Oh, I'm gonna get really wasted at my party,

so would one of you guys be my designated driver?

I'd love to.

Wow. Thanks, Aunt Peggy.

I will make your birthday party so much fun,

and I can be there to gently remind you

that as the daughter of an alcoholic,

you have a genetic gun pointed at your head,

and with every drink,

you are adding another bullet to the chamber.

Mm-hm.

Would you be my designated driver?

No, I, I don't really... No.

It's okay, Uncle Hank.

I'll just drive home drunk.

There are so many great things I can crash my car into...

A ditch, a telephone pole, a busload of babies!

Fine.

Whoo!

Bobby, eat your chicken!

I can't eat this.

They're watching me.

I did it.

A meeting has been arranged with the pigeon god's assistant.

We leave in five.

He's not here yet.

It's a setup!

Oh.

Be cool.

Ako mangiangan ang

kalapati diyos.

Shah!

-(trap snaps) -(rat squeals)

Hmm.

Siya nasain maari diyan bukas.

Arlen's best exterminator is coming to our alley.

What should I have her sign?

My canister? My traps?

-My face? -(groans)

Oh, my god!

If I start acting like a fool, take me out with this poison.

-(squeaks) -Oh, wow.

How y'all doing?

Sheila Refkin, Heimlich County Pest Management.

This is one impressive infestation.

Was this neighborhood built on a landfill?

Uh...

Dale Gribble.

Dale's Dead Bug!

Did I say "Dale's Bug Dead?" Idiot!

Dale Gribble!

Whoa, that's some kinda spray wand you got there.

Bet you could blast one hell of a gopher with that thing.

I could blast through a horse to get to the gopher.

Look at the way she applies that chemical.

She has clearly read the directions.

Man, that dang ol' Sheila, looking all pretty like that.

Man, I'd take her to my bedroom

and talk about them ol' pigeons, man!

Dale, honey!

Would you mind grabbing a caulking gun and helping me out?

Do you know how many years

I've wished Peggy would ask me that?

Naah!

I don't deserve to be administering chemical

next to an exterminator of your magnitude.

I'm also not licensed to.

Oh, pooh.

You have to squeeze the trigger gently.

Just pretend like you're holding a pretty girl's hand.

Pigeons hate anything sticky on their feet.

When the gel gets on their foot,

they fly away because they can't handle the sensation.

Ow!

-...and then Luanne ditches me for Hank. -(laughter nearby)

I have driven for 20 years without an accident.

One that wasn't my fault, anyway.

Who is that woman?

Oh, that's the new hotshot exterminator.

Anyway...

so Luanne says to me...

She's trouble.

But wouldn't that be poetic justice?

I come back to Dale, and then he runs off with another woman?

Oh... I would say it's ironic,

but you're the one it's happening to.

You can call it what you want.

Excuse me.

Dang ol'...

Nancy!

I was just telling Boomhauer

that Sheila's can and your can

share some striking similarities.

Show him your can, Nancy.

I don't think so.

You know I don't like you looking at other ladies'... areas.

How can I help it?

She's got your hot bod and my hot mind.

It's like some science experiment

that's gone horribly right.

Dale, honey!

Could you bring me up the Johnson's Pest-Go Bird Repel Gel 320ml?

Oh, man.

I could talk about the Johnson's Pest-Go Bird Repel Gel 320 mil

for the rest of my life.

Hey, Nancy, could you grab it for me?

It's right behind you.

You have no idea what that is!

Oh, I, I shouldn't laugh at you.

But when you picked up the Diazanon...

Oh, I got to send that in to "Bugs and Giggles."

Yep.

Yep.

Mmm. Mmm-hmm.

You're so funny.

-(laughing) -(indistinct whispering)

Yep.

Pardon us for being excited.

We're unleashing some pretty supreme chemical

in the alley this afternoon.

Tell them about the chemical, will ya, huh?

Well, as you know, pigeons live in a flock.

So we pick the alpha male.

Then we feed him a mild hallucinogen called Avitrol.