King of the Hill

When can I try her out, Hank?

I bet she's got enough power to lift me off the ground.

It's a leaf blower, Bill, not a jetpack.

Guess who's running for an unprecedented fourth term

as president of the Arlen Gun Club?

I'll give you a hint.

He made love to my wife last night.

Dang it, Dale.

I didn't let Bill put a personal ad up there,

and I sure as hell won't let that up.

Macaroon?

I've got entrance-wound size

and exit-wound size.

Dale, every year I vote for you

just to get my hands on one of your fine macaroons.

Well, in that case, Jim, take two and vote twice.

Mad Dog, cookie?

Hats off, boys.

It's the First Lady.

If you're not going to respect the man, Mad Dog,

at least respect the office.

Gribble, I wouldn't vote for a clown like you

if I had a gun to my head.

-(men gasp) -See?

Hey, watch your mouth, Mad Dog.

While you were safely tucked away in prison,

Dale was out there kicking ass for the highest bidder.

Or don't you get Soldier of Fortune in the hole?

Paid ad don't mean nothing.

I bought a knife from an ad in the back of that magazine.

Said it wouldn't break off in a man's skull.

Crap.

Tell him, Dale. Tell him about the time

you assassinated that Central American dictator.

Again?

Gladly.

The generalissimo was guarded

better than a Mafia don's virgin daughter.

We needed the element of surprise,

so me and my team showed up disguised as flower delivery men.

He answers the door

thinking someone sent him a bouquet of roses,

but instead...

he's pushing up daisies!

Shi-sha!

-That's a good ending. -(laughs)

-Yah! -(gunshot)

Well, I'll be danged.

An accidental discharge.

Or was there a Central American dictator hiding in the cash register?

Yeah, that's one for the safety video.

Come on, guys, lighten up.

-Anyone want a beer? -Yeah.

-Sure. -Read my mind.

Stop laughing at me.

I'm a laughingstock!

Dale, calm down.

In a couple of weeks, I'm sure one of those guys

will accidentally shoot off someone's toe, and this will all be forgotten.

Oh, God, if that happened, I'd kiss his bloody nub.

Fresh batch of macaroons, Jim?

Whoa! Don't shoot.

Good one, Jim.

Very topical.

I'll just put the cookies over on...

You're going down, Gribble.

And unlike your macaroons, you're staying down.

Hey, Dale, you look kind of sad

for a guy who's in a propane dealership.

Mad Dog's challenging me for president,

and he's already got the black vote: Earl.

And the gay vote: Earl.

So, things are going to be a little tense with Earl.

You're still going to win the election.

You don't understand.

Me having an accidental discharge

is like you giving a sales pitch for a grill

and not even mentioning the convenient warming plate.

I can't even... No. God, no.

God, yes.

Mad Dog's even sent out invitations

to his inauguration party.

Why did I pull my gun during the flower delivery story?

Because it makes it more exciting.

But now look at me!

Oh, Mommy... Burning... Oh!

I'm unfit to carry a weapon.

How long am I going to have to look at Dale

moping around in his underwear?

Oh, there goes the underwear.

I can honestly say this is the first time

I've ever seen anyone as depressed as I am.

It's scary.

Well, we've got to do something to help him.

Tell you what, man, I broke up with a chick,

and all I did is give her a dang ol' little puppy, man.

That's a great idea!

We'll give Dale a dog.

Nice work, Boomhauer.

I have to say, I am not wowed by the puppy idea.

But here's what we do know,

a gun is a penis substitute.

So, Dale losing the gun club presidency

is like Dale losing his...

-Penis? Exactly.

Now, how do we give Dale back his penis?

We anonymously answer his Soldier of Fortune ad

and send him on a mission even a moron could do.

When he completes it,

he will happily be back

in his pathetic little bubble of self-delusion.

And kudos to me for coming up with the idea.

Macaroon?

You, too?

This is Dale.

HANK (disguised voice): Yes, I'm calling about your ad.

It's a sky blue Schwinn in 68 percent mint condition.

I'm calling about your Soldier of Fortune ad.

I'm paid up.

My wife sent the check last week.

HANK (disguised voice): I'm trying to hire you, you idiot.

Who is this?

Uh, you don't know me, but my name is...

-(mumbling) -Uh, Frank! Frank Hill.

Wait, no. No...

-Fred. -Fred Hill.

Mr. Big.

My name is Mr. Big.

Yes! Yes! Yes!

Are you available for a top-secret mission tomorrow?

Let me check my appointment book.

Hmm... Kidnap, kidnap, coup...

Sure, I can squeeze you in.

Excellent.

Mr. Big is pleased.

Tomorrow at 2:00 p.m., go to the bus station.

We'll call you with further instructions.

Daddy's back!

Mmm. Coco-nutty.

How long we been on stakeout?

Three minutes.

I'm starving.

We'll get a snack after.

And I'm horny.

Go.

HANK (disguised voice): This is Mr. Big

I tell you what.

In the lobby, you will find an aluminum briefcase

underneath a bench.

Tell him to get a Twix bar

from the vending machine.

Shh. Take the briefcase to the skating rink across town

and put it in the dumpster.

Twix.

Briefcase.

-(laughs) -What the hell are you doing?

Give it!

-Pocket sand! -Ow!

-(Dale screaming) He took the wrong briefcase!

-Dang it, Dale! -(gasps)

The Falcon has the egg.

By "egg," I mean, "briefcase."

Oh, and... and this is Dale from the ad.

There's been a change in plans.

Your new mission is to take the briefcase

to the Lost and Found at the bus station.

Wait a minute.