King of the Hill

Previously on King of the Hill:

...and now Mega Lo Mart has propane...

Propane at Mega Lo Mart?

- I gotta let you go. -You're firing me?

You don't have to take the test now. I gave the job to somebody else.

How you doing, Arlen? You ready to soft rock?

I'm breaking up with you.

Hank!

Chuck!

Buckley and Luanne are in there!

We must be getting old, Connie.

We're 12, Bobby. We are old.

We've got to figure out what we'll do with our lives.

I'm gonna go to college and study prop-comic try.

I can't decide between being a concert violinist...

or leading the fight against the overuse of antibiotics.

Be a violinist.

That way, I could be your opening act, and we could travel the world together.

Your dad got blown up.

Let's bring it around.

Hank!

Please. Someone help me.

My husband is in there.

He had to take this job because nobody else would hire him.

We're doing everything we can, Mrs. Mangione.

I got two.

Hank, you're alive!

I'm all right, Peggy. There's two more inside.

Thank God you're okay. I was so worried.

And Luanne!

Oh, my Lord.

My hair feels weird.

I don't feel so good.

What about Buckley? Did you find him?

I'm sorry, sir.

But so far it appears that there were no other survivors.

My God!

I'm bald!

What's taking so long? When do I get to see Dad?

Your father and Luanne will be out soon, honey.

Bobby, that is not a mint.

-All right, let's go home. -Dad! You're all right!

Is there any permanent damage?

No damage, no scratches, no dents, no dings.

Bobby, what do you say we go hit the batting cages?

-Okay. -Hank, slow down. You almost died today.

That's the good thing about death: You either die or you don't.

I didn't, so let's go hit some balls.

Are you sure you're okay?

Careful, everyone.

Luanne is gonna look different, maybe even hypnotically grotesque.

But do not stare.

I'm real sorry about Buckley, and your hair.

Bobby!

Honey, it'll be fine.

We will just cover it up with makeup, and it'll be fine.

No, Aunt Peggy. I'm not gonna use hair or makeups anymore.

I learned something from that explosion.

Beauty doesn't last forever. It can be blown off your head.

Hank, you poor thing. You shouldn't be standing after your accident.

I'm fine. It's no big deal.

Buildings explode. That's what they do.

Can we please talk about something else?

Bill, you're in favor of a flat tax. You haven't said a word about it.

Did you happen to see Buckley, or any part whom of...

attempting to flee the scene of the "accident"?

Dale, the boy is no more.

All they found left of him was his name tag.

That's all he wanted them to find. Classic cover-up.

That boy's no deader than Mother Teresa.

Hank, old girl, Strickland's back in business.

-Get ready to pump propane tomorrow. -Right, sir.

I might be a little late. I don't know if I gave Mega Lo Mart my notice.

I think you gave your notice, Nitro.

|I had nothing to do with that explosion, which hasn't affected me in any way.

Hello, Peggy here. Hank, it's Mr. Strickland.

Busy. Take a message.

Can he call you back?

What? I see.

Why did you not tell me Mr. Strickland offered you your job back?

It just happened yesterday.

Honey, he says customers are lined up out the door.

I am in the middle of de-crumbing the toaster.

Save the crumbs.

Luanne, honey, look.

It's two of your old friends, the Manger Babies.

Sock puppets are for babies.

In the real world, beauty fades...

and penguins die a cold, horrible death.

So, you're not going back to beauty school then?

I'm tired of making the world look pretty.

I wanna show the world for what it is.

With photojournalism.

Photojournalism? That's something.

Look at these pictures of hungry children.

Why is the CNN logo in the corner?

This is just a picture of the TV.

It's nice to be smart, Aunt Peggy.

Smart and well-fed.

Find the body yet, Quincy?

We have some remains that we're analyzing.

-You needn"t concern yourself. -I needn't, shouldn't I?

And maybe I should not know that all Mega Lo Mart employees...

have a $5,000 insurance policy?

That's nonsense. This is a very straightforward investigation.

-That's what they want you to think. -Sir, we are they.

Hank, fries are up.

Honey, how are the steaks coming?

Still tenderizing. Don't wanna rush them.

You have been pounding the bejesus out of that beef since noon.

Throw it on the grill. Let's go.

Dang.

-What's wrong? - I lost the steaks.

Gobbets of meat from the sky.

Doesn't taste like Buckley.

They need your help at Buckley's wake, manning the grill.

What? Grill?

Is it propane?

Of course it's propane. They're not Unitarians.

I wouldn't feel right. I barely knew Buckley.

Wake grilling is something you do for a blood relative or a close friend.

Now, when Bill dies, maybe.

Honey, what a pretty outfit for a funeral.

Now, before we go, you might wanna open this.

Your friends from the Beauty Academy dropped it off.

"Sorry for your loss. You had beautiful hair.”

They've made me a wig.

"We made you a wig."”

They made me a wig.

Throw it out.

Okay, you just go ahead and grieve any way that you want.

Red book says losing a boyfriend is the fourth most painful loss.

Right between grandmother and penis.

I'm not grieving.

I broke up with Buckley seconds before the explosion...

and I never looked back.

That's why I still have my eyebrows.

Something's not right. A week's salary says that box is empty.

I'm going in.

Didn't think I'd see you here. Guilty conscience?

Why would I have a guilty conscience? I did not blow up the Mega Lo Mart.

Good. I'm glad you said that.

I'm wearing a wire for an unrelated matter.

So, when can I expect you back?

After an appropriate period of grieving, sir.

Buckley was practically a son to me.

This is depressing. You wanna go play in the cemetery?

Okay.

The passing of Buckley is a great loss and a sad occasion.

Would anyone care to come up and say a few words about Buckley?

I guess y'all expect me to cry for Buckley.

But I am not...

because there are a lot more important things to cry about.

This is a picture of what a hungry Irish child looks like!

Fight the occupation!

Is there anyone else who would like to say a few words about Buckley?

Anybody at all?

The name of the boy was Buckley.

At first, I didn't much like Buckley, I admit.

But then I saw how much he piss off my neighbor, Mr. Hank Hill...

and I decided to seek out this Buckley fellow...

get to know him.

I grew to love that boy.

Now that he's gone, I feel a big hole in my life.

I think we all do.

Is a world without Buckley a world we want to live in?

As a Buddhist, of course, I get comfort from a story.

I don't have to tell you how much Buddhists like a story.

Anyway...

story begin with man being chased by ferocious tiger.

Tiger chase him to edge of cliff.

Man falls off. Halfway down, he grab onto a branch.

He look up and see one hungry tiger. Now he look down.

He see another hungry tiger, waiting for him on the ground below.

That not a good place to be.

He know for sure he gonna die.

Then, out of corner of his eye...

he see a wild strawberry growing from same branch.

He pluck it and eat it.

It was the sweetest tasting strawberry he ever had.

Can you believe this guy? He tells a joke at a funeral.

Highly inappropriate.

Yeah, but it was funny.