King of the Hill

Good old Mason 1500.

Handles like the day I bought her.

I tell you what. This is the only mower I'd want with me

if I were ever stranded on a desert island.

You are going to kill at that lawnmower focus group tomorrow, Hank.

Now, Dale, a focus group is not a competition.

It's a chance for the informed lawn mower consumer

to give valuable input

to the mason corporation in a comfortable mall setting.

Well, I think it's just an honor to be invited.

You know, I'll tell you why we've got to go tomorrow.

Look at your average pickup truck.

With airbags and vanity mirrors,

it's one focus group away from turning into a powder room.

We can't let that happen to the Mason 1500.

We sure can't, can we?

Bill, the only reason I invited Dale

and Boomhauer and not you

is 'cause you're coming over for thanksgiving dinner,

and I didn't want you to get sick of me.

Oh, Hank, I will never be sick of you,

not even when we're sharing a cloud in heaven.

All right, you can come.

But when I make a point, just nod.

Mm-hm. Mm-hm.

Hank, you asked me to tell you when Celine Dion is off the field.

- She's off. Thanks, Mom.

Aren't moms great?

- Yeah, they are. - Uh-huh.

I tell you what I'm thankful for

that it's my mom's turn to spend thanksgiving with us.

She eats the dark meat and doesn't complain.

Boy, I tell you she'd...

What the...

You lawn jockeys were standing here when I left two months ago.

Pathetic.

Dad, you came last thanksgiving.

This year it's mom's turn, remember?

Well, I don't want to cause any fuss.

Your mother can eat in the yard.

Now, in addition to all the things

we normally don't talk about in front of my dad,

let me add my Mason Company focus group.

How could you be worried about this focus group?

Your father is gonna ruin this Thanksgiving

as surely as Squanto and his band of Indians

ruined the first one.

Oh, will you look at the time?

We've got to get this dinner on the table

because we are getting up at 4 o'clock tomorrow morning.

Huh? - It is a two-hour drive to the mall,

and I want us there right when the doors open.

I have never gotten up that early in my life

unless fish were involved.

Hank, the day after Thanksgiving is, in my opinion,

the biggest shopping day of the year,

and I will not spend another year giving Dallas Mavericks crap

because the cowboys stuff was all sold out.

So I want us in bed by 7:30.

I won't be able to fall asleep that early.

You are not even trying.

Have another beer.

Oh, well, it's worth a shot.

Dear Lord, we are grateful

that Cotton has forgotten our carefully worked out

holiday-parent rotation schedule

so that we may all be together on this day.

- Amen. Amen.

Tilly, did you make this stuffing?

'Cause it tastes like garbage.

Uh, Dad...

I ever tell you about the time she tried to poison me

with a baked chicken?

It was Chicken Almondine.

It was cyanide, woman.

Uh, Dad, could you please

show mom some respect while Bobby's in the room?

You heard him, Bobby.

Leave the room.

No, sit down, Bobby.

Could you at least respect grandmom until we get to dessert?

Didi's your grandmom too, Bobby.

Your pretty grandmom.

- Dad. -'Course, bad as Tilly was in the kitchen,

she was even worse in the bedroom.

I said the woman was lousy in the sack.

-(glass clinking) - To the stuffing.

Might taste like garbage, but it sure fills you up.

Come on, Peggy, turn off your itty-bitty headlamp

and let's get some sleep.

This is six malls over Texas, Hank.

If you go unprepared, it will eat you alive.

-(door opens) Good night, Peggy.

That was a lovely dinner.

Good night, son.

Hmm.

Well, mom seemed to enjoy herself tonight.

You defended Troy Aikman more than you defended your mother.

Mom knows how it is with Dad,

and there were six dropped passes.

All Troy can do is get it there.

Okay, everyone. Follow my beam.

Hurry, carefully.

Good morning.

I hopes we wasn't too loud last night.

Just so you know,

you kids are on your own today.

I'm taking Bobby ice-skating at the mall.

We're gonna go meet guys.

- I'm the bait. - What?

Guys love single moms.

I forgot how much old ladies stink.

Good God, you've got a fat neck, Hank.

So, Dad, I thought we'd split up at the mall.

Ah, are you gonna talk the whole way?

I'm going to head down to the corn dog shack

and watch the girlies make lemonade.

Good-bye, Peggy. - No time.

Oh, fire truck!

Hi. How long would it take

to glue a rubber sole back on a ladies' loafer?

Five minutes.

Ladies' loafer?

That's a men's loafer.

It is a uni-loafer.

Ah, have it your way.

This is going to take awhile.

Hm.

Hey, here come leftover turkeys.

Ah, hell, you're here?

I am everywhere you want to be, Hank Hill.

I'm Jonathan Burrows, your moderator.

My research associates and I at Research Associates

have only one client, the American Consumer.

Yes, we are being paid by the Mason Corporation,

but we're paid to be independent.

- I'll do all the talking... -(indistinct murmuring)

What's the matter?

We may or may not have run into your dad in the men's room,

and we may or may not have told him

that we were being paid 50 dollars

to participate in a focus group.

Mostly, "may."

Dad, that was a close one.

Now, what you're going to want to do is turn around,

head out the door and...

Well, once you're out the door there really is no wrong turn.

Out of my way.

Ah, damn.

Why don't we start by introducing ourselves.

Kahn Souphanousinphone.

I am system analyst.

So that's what you do.

What kind of systems?

Oh, why bother explain?

You already in over your head.

You, sir?

Uh, Lane Pratley. I own Pratley Ford, Pratley Hyundai,

and, uh, I've got my eye on Pratley Cadillac.

My daddy ain't doing so good.

Hey, you sold me an Escort once.

-(grumbles) - Boyce Hubert.

Minister.

Although, I've lost my faith.

'Course, I did find a pretty great parking space

on my way in.

But the lord works in such mysterious ways,

who the hell knows.

Uh, my name's Hank Hill and I...

He runs a gas station.

Next. I'm Cotton Hill.

I killed 50 men.

Is that a real computer?

- Yes. - Oh...

In... in that case, my name is...

Rusty... Shackleford.

Shackleford.

Hey, you can just go ahead and call me Boomhauer, man.

You know, that dang ol' last name, you know.

Did a lot of different things, you know. Had a job back there in that company.

Settlement, man. Ol' workers' comp, too, man.

Ol' tax-free, man.

Okay, uh, you, sir?

I'm Bill Dauterive. I'm a Sergeant Barber in the United States army.

I'm five foot eight and three-quarters inches tall.

My wife, Lenore, divorced me in the year of our lord 1991.

- That's about it. - Super. What a fine lot you are.

And now I'd like to direct your attention

to the best that the Mason Corporation has to offer...

That's my mower, the Mason 1500.

-(men exclaim) - The Mason...

2500.

Sweet! Lord have mercy.

That's not my mower.