King of the Hill (1997–2010): Season 10, Episode 2 - Bystand Me - full transcript

Yep.

Yep.

Yup.

Mm-hmm.

How do, Hank?

Pretty good.

You know you already delivered
my paper this morning.

Yeah, I just wanted to wish you
a Merry Christmas in person,

instead of leaving you some
tacky store-bought card.

Well, thanks, Harv,
but uh, it's April.

Yeah, normally I'd wait
till December,



but the Bystander's
got a new owner,

or should I say
"new bastard."

I prefer "new bastard,"
thanks.

First thing he's doing

is replacing all us
delivery guys with kids.

Apparently we're not the face
they want for the new Bystander.

Huh. Well, that's, um...
yeah.

Meanwhile, they keep taxing
old Harv's cigs...

Okay, then.

Merry Christmas.

I can't believe
they're only hiring kids.

I always dreamed of having
a newspaper route.

Now my hopes have been raised
and dashed

in a matter of moments.



I have hopelash.

You know, a newspaper route
could be great for Bobby.

He has a bike,

and it could be a way
to teach him to throw

without scaring him with a ball.

You know, my ex-wife
slept with Harv.

Couple of times.

ANNOUNCER:
We hope you've enjoyed
our Million Dollar Movie.

Which would have
been a hundred
million dollar movie

had they cast Tom Cruise
and Tom Hanks

instead of Gary Busey.

Bobby! Good news.

All right!

You're going to be a paper boy.

Yeah?

Yup. The new owner
of the Bystander

is bringing back old-timey
paper boys.

New owners?

Regime change.

Just think,
you'll make $10

before the rest of Arlen
even wakes up.

Oh, well, you know,

I'm not really
a morning person.

Well, you are now.

Sign-ups
are tomorrow.

This isn't just
Bobby's lucky day,

it's mine, too.

The old Bystander's
answer to my story ideas

was always "no, no, no."

But now that heads are rolling
in that newsroom,

I am throwing my head
into the ring!

Good for you, Peggy!

And once I get a job
at the paper,

I won't need to keep pouring
my creative juices

into these DVD commentaries,
that, let's be honest,

no one but you
was ever gonna hear.

That makes this one
a collector's item.

Enjoy.

Is your dad making you
get a paper route, too?

I'm building character.

DALE:
Hey, dude,

is this where I sign up
for the jizzob?

Hi, Mr. Gribble.

Gribwhat?

I'm Sparky Wilson and I moved
here with my mom when my dad

left us...

Ah, dang it.

It's not fair that only kids
get a paper route!

Believe me,
if there was any way

I could trade places with
you, Mr. Gribble, I would.

Hmm...

what if my want of a paper route
joined up with your un-want?

You sign up, I do all the work.

I don't know.

If I'm still in bed
when my dad gets up,

he's going to know
there's something going on.

Ah... once again
your dad does
present a problem.

Ah...

Hey, you could sleep
in the Bugabago
during the route.

I've got a cot back there
for marsupial stake-outs.

Well... I'm not sure...

Fine. Enjoy your nice, cold,
dark bike ride.

Hey, you, bird-chest--
interested in a deal?

Wait!

I'm in.

Yes!

Dude, I am totally stoked!

( screaming )

Rad!

What do you think, Hank?

For my interview
with the managing editor

I decided to go with
my Knock 'Em Dead shirt.

Good choice.

Wow-- you'll write the paper,
Bobby'll toss it on our stoop,

and Ladybird
will bring it to me.

( sighs )

Here we go.

His and hers copies
of New York Times.

You ready
for crossword competition?

Go!

Yeah!

PEGGY:
Oh, for God's sake!

Un-freakin'-believable!

Hey! Peggy Hill,
pipe down!

We trying to match wits
over here.

But I have got
a major job interview,

and I just spilled coffee
all over my blouse.

Oh, a stain?

That what you caterwauling
about?

Remove it.

If I knew how to get a huge
coffee stain out of silk,

I would do it.

But I do not.

Mmm, a housewife
that can't clean.

What exactly does Hank
Hill keep you around for?

This.

I live the life of the mind,
Minh.

I am a thinker, a writer.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.

Just soak stain in lime juice,
dab gently,

and quit your hollering.

Well, I do not have time
for soaking and dabbing.

I'm going to have to change
into my funeral shirt.

Hmm...

so I see you didn't go
to J school.

I like that.

Not only did I not go
to J school,

I don't even know what it is.

It's journalism school--

but that's all you need
to know about it.

I'm looking for people
who have a homespun wisdom

that can only come
from living a real life.

A realer life than mine

you would be hard-pressed
to find, sir.

Well, that's dandy.

I'll tell you what our readers
would love:

a "Helpful Hints" column.

Care to take a whack at it?

"Helpful Hints?"

Like who to vote for?

Great books to read?

How to think?

Oh, no, no, nothing like that.

I'm talking
about household hints.

You know, getting rid of mildew,
treating stains...

I have a feeling

you'd knock it out of the park.

And from there,

there's no telling
how far you could go
at this paper.

Mr. Biffel, would you believe

that just minutes before
this interview,

I had a huge coffee stain
on my blouse?

I was lost

until I thought
about a little saying

my pappy used to tell me:

Soak it in lime juice.

That's exactly the kind
of gem I'm looking for!

Hey, do you know
how to get newspaper ink
out of a white shirt?

Of course I do.

( nervous laughter)

But you'll have to wait
till tomorrow

to read all about it!

MINH:
Time out!

KAHN:
Pens down!

Minh, I was just thinking
about that great hint

we were chatting
about this morning...

you know, the lime juice
on the coffee stain.

Delightful.

Now, do you have any other
ones?

Oh, sure, my
mother-in-law, Laoma,

loves to tell me how
to clean my house better.

She has this way
of scrubbing grout...

Hmmm, I smell desperation.

What's the matter, you've got
to clean Jethro's overalls

before he come back from still?

Ha-ha. Minh great,
Peggy bad.

Look, I've got
a household hints column

in the Bystander
and I don't know any.

Help me-- I will give you
whatever you want.

I need nine-letter word

for sub-atomic particle
discoverer!

You got that?!

Wait, I do.

The Bystander has access
to every paper's puzzle answers

a day early.

Mm-hmm.

Now, I have to write this column
five days a week,

so you have to keep
the pipeline open.

I don't know...

that's going to mean talking
to mother-in-law an awful lot.

KAHN:
Minh, where are you?

You can run,
but you cannot hide

from my superior
vocabulary!

I want Sunday answers, too,
and tomorrow's weather.

I be like God.

( yawns )

( horn honks )

You can move
that bag of rats.

Or use it as a pillow.

( whistling )

( grunting )

Uh, Bobby? A little help?

It is so great to be
trembling from excitement

instead of fear, eh?

( snoring )

Yes!

( moaning )

( screaming )

Uh... huh?

Well, steering works!

MAN:
Looks like someone
turned in

their first column, eh?

Oh, you're Bob Jenkins,
the "Eye on Arlen."

I'm Peggy...

I'll learn your name
if I read it in the Bystander.

Just so you know,
I used to be "Eyes on Arlen"

till Roddy Rae
read my first piece

and threw it right back
into my face.

Had a staple in it.

He's just kidding ya.

He had a brain tumor

and had to have
his eye taken out.

Oh, that's a relief.

I'm a little nervous.

Roddy Rae took my column
into the men's room.

Is that good or bad?

Mmm-mm, depends.

If he comes out
holding it, good news.

If he's empty handed,
well...

( toilet flushing )

Won't be long now.

Peggy, congratulations.

This calls for a drink
at The Life Boat.

New person buys.

( country playing )

( people chattering )

PEGGY:
Oh, my God,

there's Channel 84's
Burl Arlington.

Oh, look, the mannequin
convention is in town.

Hey, Burl,

let's see if you
can order a drink

without using
a TelePrompTer.

( laughter )

You're doing
a great job, Jenkins.

I can't wait to wake up tomorrow
to find out what happened today.

( laughter )

Peggy?

What are you doing here?

I am writing for
the Bystander,

but I have to tell you,

I do not know if I can
keep up with these barbs.

Oh, Sug, you got to show 'em
you can dish it out

or they'll eat you alive.

Would you do me a favor?

Could you just toss

a friendly little
insult my way

so I can get into the game?

Sure, Sug, leave it to me.

Congratulations

on the new column, Peggy.

I'm sure all seven

of the Bystander's readers
will love it.

Take that,
you bleached-out tramp!

( gasps, oohing )

( whispers ):
Thank you.

...13, 14...

and two for the
Great State of Taxes.

'Scuse me.

( low growl )

Scab! Scab!

He's the kid who took
all our jobs!

Aah!

Mr. Gribble!

( pants deeply )

( coughs )

( sighs )

( groans ):
Wha...?

What time is it?

10:30 in the a.m.

What a day.

I was supposed to be
at school at 8:15.

I missed my science test.

Why do we have all these
extra papers?

Huh. I don't know.
Who cares. I'm tired.

Mr. Gribble,
my name's on this route.

We have to deliver
these papers.

Whatever you say,
Hank.

Boy, last night Bobby reached
for a dinner roll

and I think I saw a muscle
in his throwing arm.

Yeah, man, well,
I don't want to kill

that dang ol' buzz, man,
but I tell you what,

that little boy throws
like them dang ol'
Drifters, man.

Talking 'bout, dang
ol' "Up On The Roof."

I also found my paper
on Boomhauer's roof.

Huh, I'll have to work with
Bobby on his toss mechanics.

It's not easy being
a paper boy, Hank!

You know, I've been getting
a lot of complaints

about your throwing accuracy.

You do know you're
right-handed, don't you?

I'll work on it, Dad.

You're Peggy Hill.

I recognize you
from your picture.

And I recognize you as a fan.

I loved your article
last Friday.

I went right out
and put seaweed

on the oil on my driveway.

Peggy, you saved
my driveway

and my marriage.

Yeah, I never heard about
that seaweed thing before.

Where'd you
come up with that?

Hank, I want to talk
about our marriage.

( chuckles )

I agree, Laoma,

nothing good enough
for your little Kahn.

That's why I would
so appreciate you telling me

how I might remove a lipstick
stain from his shirt.

Here are tomorrow's answers,

including a 15-letter
Shakespearean palindrome.

I'm gonna fill that one in last,

pretend like it
really stumping me.

Oh, yes, Laoma, I'm still here.

Oh, yes, I did hear you say

my lipstick remind you
of Bangkok circus clown.

No, I'm not taking a tone.

I really do value your tips

to make myself look less
freakish.

Okay, now that
was uncalled for,
you ngo kao khwa'ai paa.

Oh, no, no--
don't call her

a ngo kao khwa'ai paa.

Yeah, well you know
that couch you sleep on

when you stay here?

It pull out.

( speaking Laotian )

No more tips.

What?! Well, she
can't cut us off!

What am I going to do
for my next column?!

Sorry, guess
you're on your own.

Hey, maybe something about
turning corn cobs into pipes?

( groans )

Ah, the tyranny
of the blank screen.

Writer's block, eh?

When I get writer's block
I drink five cups of coffee,

eat five candy bars
and cross my fingers.

This may or may not help,

but when I get writer's block,
I buy a prostitute.

( groaning )

( yawns )

Dale, wake up.

Wha...?

Oh, morning, Hank.
I must've dozed off.

( moans ):
Just five more minutes,

Mr. Gribble.

Bobby?

Dad?!

Mr. Gribble,
did you fall asleep?

Uh, yes.

And Bobby must have climbed
in the back of my van...

with his bike...

and papers.

( chuckles nervously )

He made me do it!

He has some kind
of mystical hold on me!

It was all his idea!

Both of you,

outside the van, now.

Okay, I need a hint,

a way to make something
whiter or fresher.

Anything!

Come on, speak to me.

HANK ( sighs ):
I still can't believe

Bobby cheated
on his paper route.

I don't even know
how to punish that.

Well, the pressures
of journalism

can be very intense.

Even I have felt it.

But today,
I really knocked
one out of the park.

Good for you.
What's the hint?

Okay, get this:

I combined two common items
in a powerful new way.

I told my readers

to harness the cleaning
power of ammonia

with the whitening
power of bleach.

Ammonia and bleach?!

You told people to mix
ammonia and bleach?

Only if they want
bathroom fixtures

that shine like the sun.

Peggy, that's the recipe
for mustard gas!

Arlen will be covered

with a cloud of poison!

PEGGY:
Bwaaagh!

Bobby, get up.

I'm up!
The "s" in service stands for...

Not now, Bobby.

Don't worry,
your mom screwed up
this time, not you.

HANK:
All right,

as long as we get to
the production plant

before they're
done printing,

everything'll be okay.

Are you sure
I'm making mustard gas?

Yes. My dad used to
mix up a big batch of it

to celebrate V-J day.

Oh, God, if that article
gets out,

I am going to be
a laughingstock.

Peggy, there may not be
anyone left to laugh.

You really think so?

Oh. I see. That's bad.

Stop the presses!

Okay, the presses

are at the South County
production plant.

This is where we
insert the circulars

and Parade magazines.

Where's today's paper?

It'll be hitting the first
vending boxes and homes

in about, uh, 20 minutes.

I got the Lotto numbers

if that's what you're after.

( sighs )

There's no way
the three of us

can collect every paper

before somebody
reads your hint.

Jim Jones.

Those guys with
the purple sweats.

And Peggy Hill.

Hey, maybe there is a way
to pick up all the papers.

Harv.

I don't have
time to explain,

but I need your help
picking up

every Bystander
delivered this morning.

Sorry. We ain't fit to be in
the newspaper biz no more.

We're in the pizza flyer
game now.

Dang it, guys--

and possibly
ma'am there--

I know how you feel

taken for granted
some times,

but you're the invisible army

that brings this town the
answers to the big questions:

Should I wear a coat today?

What will my son eat
for school lunch?

What time
did the sun set?

BOBBY:
Sirs...

the last few days
of delivering papers

I've seen things
I've never seen before:

the sunrise,

morning dew,
snails on sidewalks--

things...

I never want to see again.

Please come back.

If you do this,
you'll get to keep

whatever the paper's worth
at the recycling center.

Okay, we're in.

Let's go, people.

Top off your to-go cups,

and remember those
above-the-garage guest houses.

You think we got 'em all?

We know our routes.
We got 'em.

Six tons
of newspapers.

$18.

( cheering )

Yes!

Well, now that Arlen's
safe, what do you say

we all stop at the Waffle
House for some waffles?

You'd better drop me
at the Bystander, Hank.

I owe my readers
one last column.

I almost killed them,

and now I have to break
their hearts.

Peggy, have you seen
this morning's Bystander?

No.

Nobody has.

Channel 84 must have
gotten tired of being scooped

and stolen them all.

Well, that's not
quite the case.

I gotta hand it to them,
this is a real step up

from them toilet papering
my lawn.

Hey, we should go
tear down their antenna.

Roddy Rae, wait.

Channel 84 did not steal
our papers. I did.

I just wanted to write
for the paper so bad,

I didn't care where
I got my ideas.

Of course,
the mustard gas
one was mine.

"In conclusion, I was so busy
trying to figure out

"how to remove the stains

"that I forgot about
the people

who actually create them."

Peggy, have you heard
of a newspaper called

The New York Times?

Apparently they have
a very challenging puzzle.

You think they got
their facts straight
all the time? No way.

Hell, half the time it seems
like they're making it up

as they go along.

I don't need you
for facts, Peggy.

We got a fact checker for that.

Actually, I guess
I got to let her go

in light of
this mustard gas thing,

but my point is you got
a nice, friendly style,

and in this business, well,
that's worth more than facts.

So, I'm not fired?

From your "Household Hints"
column, yes.

But you got a way of
grabbing people's attention.

I need that.

I've been wanting
to run this photo

since the county fair,

but no one's come up
with a good caption yet.

"Woman Skirts Disaster."

Come on, give me a hard one.

Uh, let's see...
"Hat's Incredible."

"Jeepers Sweepers."

"Pink Ink Stinks Rink."

Hmm... wait,
give me a minute.

Give me a minute.

Oh, "Hold the Mayor."

( screams )
Ride!