King of the Hill (1997–2010): Season 13, Episode 15 - Serves Me Right for Giving General George S. Patton the Bathroom Key - full transcript

Ripped By mstoll

I've identified

two of your problems, Bill.

There's no oil in your oil pan,

but lots of it in your
windshield washer reservoir.

I don't know if we can save
this engine.

Our best bet might be
to take out the floorboards

and make this a Flintstones car.

I'd say you should donate it
to charity,

but charity people have
enough problems.

Dang it, Bill, you know
this car deserves better.



Sorry, Hank.
Sorry, car.

Dale, you missed the trash can.

Meh.

Hank, you will
never believe who is on

our answering machine.

Didi.

Didi?
What does she want?

My dad's been dead over a year.

I was hoping she'd
take that as the end

of her step-mothering
duties.

My guess is, with Cotton gone,

Didi's probably lonely and
desperate for a new man.

Prepare for war, Peggy.

Shut up, Dale.



I better go give it a listen.

Dale, you're gonna pick up
that can, right?

Maybe I'll pick it up,
maybe I won't.

We call that suspense.

This is Didi Hill.

Cotton asked
that I give you this.

See you... soon.

"This"?

What does she mean by "this"?

We can't see
through the dang phone.

This is bad, Hank.

Nothing involving your
father ever turns out good.

You know what I've
been wondering?

Was Grandpa a good dancer?

Because-- no offense--

There's no way I got my moves
from either of you.

Well, I don't think your grandpa

liked to dance, Bobby.

Dancing conveys
a certain amount of joy

that I don't think
your grandfather condoned.

Okay, then,
what did Grandpa like?

Well, uh, he was a war hero.

He killed 50 men...

and, uh, well, you know,

that's a lot of, uh...
a lot of men.

Hmm, there's got to be
something else.

You must be very
proud, Mr. Hill.

Of course I am.

I killed 50 men.

I killed 50 men!

I killed 50 men.

Hmm.

I don't think I know
anything about my dad.

Well, other than his hatred

of Tojos, Nazis and my mother.

Well, hatred was just about
all there was to Cotton.

And...

no, no, just hatred.

Maybe it's normal

not to know much
about your father.

How much do you guys
know about your dads?

If anything, I know too much
about my father.

It's all tucked away
in the corners of my brain

that alcohol can't reach.

I was able to piece together

an interesting
history of my father

using mug shots and
dental records.

My dad collects stamps.

His favorite color is dark blue.

Oh, and he loves paella,

especially when it's made
by his boyfriend, Stephano.

Well...

Didi's coming by tomorrow.

It might be my last chance

to ask her some questions
about him.

So, are you going to
pick up that can, Dale?

I have a to-do list
a mile long,

but when I get done with
everything on that list...

uh, I can't lie to you, Bill.

I'm not going to do it.

Open that door, Dale!

What do you want?

I want you to pick up the can!

Why me?

You're closer. Geez.

I swear.

It's like you don't have
any respect for me.

Of course I don't.

Look at you.

I'm tired of being ignored.

You're picking that can up
right now!

Oh, here's something
I've been curious about.

Did my dad ever use
the ratchet set

we got him for his birthday?

The drop-forged one,

not the heat-treated one
we gave him for Christmas.

That's your seventh question
about Cotton's tools.

I think you should
try a new area.

You know, all this stuff
about Grandpa got me worrying

that maybe I don't know enough
about you.

Like, when you were my age,

did you practice kissing
on your hand or your pillow?

Yeah, uh...

that question being
of a personal nature and such,

it's kind of difficult to, uh...

Pick it up, pick
it up, pick it up!

Gribble and Dauterive
really going at it.

The chain-smoking anorexic

versus the heart attack
waiting to happen.

Who will die first?

Let's watch.

I don't know why

you're so worried
about that can, Bill.

If it's anything
like your ex-wife,

it'll come to its senses
and walk away... forever.

You know what?

I haven't liked you for years!

Hold on, Bill.

Dale, the only reason
lever hung out with you

was because of Boomhauer and Hank.
- Oh, really?

Then how come just last week you
said you were my best friend?

I pretended you were Hank
when I said it!

Okay, that's enough, you two.

You're dead to me,
Bill Dauterive!

Good, I'd rather be dead
than be your friend anyway!

Boycott Dale Gribble!

He is an exterminator of bugs
and friendship!

Do not let him into your house
or your hearts!

This fight seems
to be getting serious.

Looks like I'm going to have
to do something to end this.

I'm going to go grab
a case of Alamo Gold

and sit them down
until this thing is figured out.

I think it's too late for that.

This has gone beyond a fight,
and has officially become

a "dude-vorce."

A what?

A "dude-vorce" is what happens

when male friends break up.

Parade magazine
did a whole half page on it.

It's true.

I heard that one in two
male friendships

now ends in "dude-vorce."

It's so sad when dudes
grow apart.

She's here!
Didi's here!

Hello, Hank. Peggy.

Hello, Didi.
How have you been?

Excellent. I'm getting married
to a wealthy professional...

wrestler.

Anyway, this box is for you.

Sorry, I'm so late
getting it to you.

You have no idea how difficult
it has been to grieve

and fall madly in love
at the same time.

Now I have to go.
Wait, wait!

Are you sure
you can't stick around?

I have some things I wanted
to ask you about my dad.

I'm sorry, Hank, but I had to
clear Cotton out of my mind

so I could make room
for my new husband.

But, but I have a list!

"Did my dad like
Washington apples?"

What's in it? I can't
stand the waiting!

Well, looks like
some of my dad's medals,

uniforms, some paperwork...

It's his personal belongings.

He must have wanted
you to have these, Hank.

Maybe your dad did not
hate you, after all.

Hey, a tape recorder.

Hank,

I know no parent ever wants

their kids to outlive them,
but if you're hearing this,

I guess somehow
you pulled it off.

Anyway, here's a box
of my possessions

and a list of my wishes.

As the executor of my estate,

you gots to do
everything I tells ya.

It won't be pretty and you're
probably going to cry a little.

Just remember, I'll be watching.

And laughing.

That is all.

Oh, that man had some nerve!

All you wanted was to know
a little bit about him,

and what do you get in return?

His dirty work.

Oh, I'm sorry, Hank.

Why are you sorry?

My dad has made me
the executor of his will.

I'm finally going to learn
something about him.

Wow!

Look at all this shin jelly!

And a gun!

Oh, dear Lord.
Put that thing down!

Let me see that list.

Oh, I see he left Dale,
Bill and Boomhauer something.

And of course,
I see nothing for you

on this list, Hank-- typical.

That's not true.

My dad gave me
the greatest gift:

the trust and honor
of handling his affairs.

Honor? Have you seen what
he wants you to do, Hank?

"Give the finger to the bouncer
at Juggstore Cowboys."

"Spit on the steps
of the Japanese Embassy."

The man is dead.

You do not have to do this.

Peggy, my dad entrusted me

with his final wishes and I have
to see it through for him.

I can't just throw
the list away.

He's right.

This thing is like
a treasure map of Grandpa.

Can I come with you when you

"slap the butt of some
brunette nurses at the V.A."?

No!
No!

Tell him

I want my kiddie pool
and my leaf blower.

Okay, uh, next issue.

Gribble wants the kiddie pool
and his leaf blower back,

as well as the alley
on Saturdays.

No sale!
We already gave you

the Arlen High football tickets

and the alley
every other Sunday.

What the heck is going on here?

Hank, when it comes
to a breakup,

there are no winners,
only losers-- two losers.

Can you guys just
put it on hold for a second?

I have some stuff
I have to give you

from my dad.

Cotton brought that fork
back from Germany.

I'm, uh, pretty sure
he killed somebody with it.

It's beautiful!

I love getting gifts, Hank.

I'm pretty sure Dale
doesn't know that though,

since he hasn't gotten me
anything for my birthday

for the last 14 years.

That's right, I counted!

What can you possibly
give the man who has nothing?

Look, I could really use

both of your help
with my dad's estate.

So just punch each other
or grill a steak,

and get this ridiculous
fight over with.

Meat won't solve this, Hank.

Not this time.

So either pick
a side or get lost.

Now, where were we?

Gribble's gonna need that fork.

No way!

It'll go well with this knife.

Give him fork, Dauterive.

Well, thanks for offering
to help me, Peggy,

but I don't know if
you should come in.

You've seen the list.

This might not be
the place for a lady.

Hank, I'm looking
on the bright side.

This list will let me
relive Cotton's death

over and over again.

Uh, thanks for meeting us,
Madame Francine.

Uh, this is for you
from my father.

So, you knew my father,
apparently.

Uh, is there anything you can
tell me about him?

Yes. Of all his platoon mates,

Cotton was the most curious
and inventive lover.

Uh, excuse me.

Are you two the Cleery sisters?

Yes, sir.

Uh, this is from Cotton Hill.

I'm very sorry.

Oh, for heaven's sake.

Oh!

What an awful day.

You know, I'm really
starting to wonder

what the point of all this is.

Maybe the point was
for Cotton to humiliate you

one last time.

Well, all we have left
to do is deliver this spat

to someone named Fatty.

And then it's all finally over.

Thank God.

Yeah, I guess.

Hi, uh, I'm looking for Fatty.

Fatty dead.

I'm his son, Little Fatty.
Who you?

Well, I'm Cotton Hill's
son, Hank.

My dad was in the service
with your father.

He passed away last year,

and he wanted your
father to have this.

Oh, yeah.

Daddy Fatty told me about that.

I'll take it.

What the hell was that for?

Oh, Hank, I know
you were looking

to find out something
about your father,

but apparently it was
just not meant to be.

This key opens a box
at the bus station.

And sorry about the stomping.

That was Cotton's wish.

Well, here it is.

Box 1942.

Open it slowly, Hank.

It could be booby-trapped.

"Boy, if you're reading
this, it means Fatty's dead.

"It also means this last task
comes down

to the one most likely
to screw it up... you."

Oh, God.

"Take what's in this box
and flush it down the crapper

"that General
George S. Patton used

"right before he left
to hunt down

Pancho Villa in Mexico."

Wha-what on earth would Cotton
want flushed down a toilet?

Good Lord, Peggy.

My dad wants me to flush him!

What kind of man asks his son to
flush his remains down a toilet?

Look on the bright side,
Uncle Hank.

This would have been
much more difficult

if Cotton hadn't had
the foresight

to cremate himself first.

Apparently it's some sort of
tradition in Cotton's platoon.

After one of them dies,

the remaining members reunite

to send their buddy off
to a watery grave.

Which just happens
to be a toilet.

Well, it doesn't sound very
respectful if you ask me.

But if that's
what my dad wanted,

then that's what I have to do.

I don't know, Hank.

General Patton's toilet
would definitely be

in my top three places
where I'd like to get flushed.

Right behind the one
Elvis died on and yours.

I want
my skeleton to be dismantled

and sent in a box to
Singapore to be re-mantled.

Dang it, Dale.
If you're gonna participate

in the discussion
you have to be here in person.

DALE No can do.

Not as long as
what's-his-fat is there.

According to our agreement

I have the alley from
3:00 to 5:00 p.m.

Kahn said it's within
my legal right

to pull his batteries
out at any time.

Hey!

Relax, Bill.

So when do you and I
and not Bill leave, Hank?

I've got my flushing arm ready.

What? Why does Dale get to
go flush the colonel?!

I hate Dale.

We all hate Dale!

Dang it, I've had enough
of this.

Neither of you are going.

Boomhauer, we leave tonight.

Dang ol' yo, man.

Let's get this over with.

Okay.

There's the bathroom.

Let's go.

What are you guys doing here?

You should be asking Dale that.

Because it's Saturday,

and I get Hank on Saturdays!

That was pending negotiation!

So anyway, Hank, I was thinking

that since I was
Cotton's favorite,

I should be the one

to push the flusher.

This is a military ceremony,

and since I'm military,
I should flush!

Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

I know what you're doing.

You're trying to flush someone

down Patton's toilet,
aren't you?

Uh, well,

it was my dad's last request.

See, he was a veteran, and...

I don't care if he was
George S. Patton himself.

I'm sick of all this.

Guys come in here all the time

trying to flush their dead
relatives down that toilet,

and you know what
happens each time?

My toilet gets clogged.

And you know
who has to pay to unclog it?

Me.

But my dad's...

Out!

All your blabbing in there
reminded me how much

I want to push you
into traffic-- mouth first.

How dare you!

Sucker punch!

All right, that's enough!

I've had it with your fighting

and with my dad's asinine list!

I'm going home.

Boy, Hank was a little dramatic,
don't you think?

Yeah. It's sad,

but some people thrive
on that sort of thing.

Man, what, you kidding me, man?

Talkin' 'bout ol' yak, yak, yak,
blah, blah, bluh.

Just shut up, man.

Dang ol', just got to do this
for Hank, man.

It's about Hank, man.

Hank,

we've got something
we want to say.

We apologize.

And we want

to help you finish
what we screwed up.

We want to help flush Cotton
down the toilet.

I don't even care anymore.

And even if I did,
there's no way

that bartender's
gonna let us back in.

Don't worry about that.

Cotton's going down that toilet
tonight.

We have a plan.

A plan that's going to distract
a whole bar full of people?

It's not just a bar
full of people, Hank.

It's a bar full of
military people.

Yup, Vietnam.

That was the toughest war
we ever fought.

I heard that!

At least we won ours,
you whiny dope smokers!

World War ll was
the last great war!

Man, the Russians did all
the dirty work for you guys.

Now Desert Storm--
That was the real gut check.

Desert Storm?

You guys barely had time
to eat a falafel

before you hightailed it
out of there.

What abouts Grenada?

Them medical students
was trapped!

Come on, you guys!

Remember the rules!

Not my rules!

Hell with the rules!

I can't read!

Hank,

would you like to do the honors?

Well, to be honest,

I don't really have
anything nice to say.

You go ahead, Dale.

I think I've caused
enough trouble this week.

Bill, why don't you?

I don't deserve it, either.

I'm embarrassed I got so upset
over a stupid beer can.

And how I didn't help you, Hank.

I'm sorry to both of you.

I'm sorry, too, Hank.

And I'm sorry, Bill.

When we get back home,
I'll pick up the beer can.

You don't have to.

I want to.

Uh, you know,

I-I guess I did learn something
about Cotton this week.

Sure, he killed 50 men,

but he didn't do it alone.

There were all kinds of Stinkies
and Fatties to help him.

Those guys meant a lot
to Cotton,

just like you guys, uh,
mean a lot to me.

It's a shame we never got

to experience the horrors
of war together,

but that doesn't mean

I don't enjoy our,
uh, time together.

Well, I guess we should do this.

Hold on a sec, Hank.

Attention!

Yup. I just got the bill
from the Chimney Pipe.

I have to reimburse them $300
for that clogged toilet.

I guess we just have
to accept the fact

that even dead,
Cotton will always find a way

to disrupt our lives.

This one is on me.

You know, Dad, you never
answered my questions about you.

Well, you're right, Bobby.
What do you want to know?

I'll tell you anything.

How do you like
your hamburgers cooked?

Medium rare. Three flips.

Okay. What was it like

the first time
you slept in a bed with Mom?

How'd you choose which side

of the bed you'd sleep on?

And did you start cuddling
right away,

or did you build up to it?

Well, uh, okay.

Uh, let's start
with the bed question.

Uh, I sleep on the north side.

As for the cuddling, uh...

Uh, Peggy, could you get me
some water?

Hello. I'm Hank Hill.

Clogged toilets are a serious
issue that affects everyone.

I'd like to take a moment
to give you a few pointers

on proper toilet usage

so what happened in this episode
won't happen to you.

First off,
items like cotton swabs,

chewing gum, cigarettes,

and, uh, lady things
should not be flushed.

The basic rule is,

never flush anything
down a toilet

that doesn't come directly,
uh, from you.

For tougher clogs,

purchase a snake
at a local hardware store,

or consult your local
yellow pages

for a certified plumber
in your area.

If it's a father
and son company,

request the father.

And finally, I want you to know

that no pipes
were actually damaged

in the making of this episode.

Thank you.

I killed 50 men!

Ripped By mstoll