King of the Hill (1997–2010): Season 2, Episode 7 - The Man Who Shot Cane Skretteburg - full transcript
Hank and the guys seek vengeance after a group of teenagers beat them at paint-ball.
[Motor starts feebly]
[Sighs]
[Motor accelerates]
[Bill stammers]
Wait a minute. There!
One of the leaves just moved.
You're shoving it with the nozzle, Bill.
Well, that's what you get
for buying a Japanese leaf-blower.
It's built for blowing
those little bonsai bushes...
and cherry blossoms.
For crying out loud, it's 5:30.
Will you punks turn off that racket-maker?
It's called a leaf-blower, Pops.
Runs on a newfangled device
called the gasoline engine.
[All laughing]
What the hell's wrong
with using a rake, you lazy punks?
A rake, you say?
I never heard of a rake. Have you, Bill?
Nope, must have been before our time.
I tell you what, man. I seen a dang old
rake over at that there Smithsonian...
next to Lincoln's hat and Archie's chair,
dang old caveman section.
Don't you cuss at me, Jimmy Dean.
I'll set my dog on you.
[Dog yelps]
HANK: See ya, Pops.
Keep watching Touched By An Angel.
[Theme song playing]
[Hank laughs]
HANK: Here comes the shut-in.
Lucky kid.
The doctor says getting chicken pox
at the age of 12...
could cause sterility in weaker children.
DALE: My Joseph better not be sterile.
I need my seed to live on.
Certain plans of mine
require additional Gribbles.
HANK: Bobby, I'm proud of you.
Getting over the chicken pox
is a milestone.
So to celebrate,
you can do anything you want.
[Weakly] How about we go
to the Family Fun Center?
[Weakly] Yay! The Family Fun Center.
They have go-carts and skeeball...
[Wheezing] and mini-golf.
I like their blood-pressure machine.
Can we, Dad?
[Microphone feedback screeching
in distance]
Oh, boy! There goes that rock band again.
[Hank groans]
That's not rock.
It's okay if you only know three chords...
but, God, put them in the right order.
That noise has been
giving Nancy headaches all week.
Then yesterday,
her back broke out in scratch marks.
Well, I'll go over and straighten them out.
[Hank grumbling]
Yuck!
I wonder if that music
is what killed this grass.
[Drum roll]
[Feedback]
HANK: Fellas, could I
have your attention, please?
Wow! Cane Skretteburg!
You're that 12th-grader
who put "Don't" on all the stop signs.
CANE: Peace.
BOBBY: Wow!
Fellas, my name is Hank Hill,
and I'm the block captain.
Now, it's not that I don't like music,
it's just that...
[Synthesizer repeating Hank's words]
Now cut that out. This is serious.
My Lord!
You've got five plugs in one outlet, here.
Does your father know you're doing this?
My dad's dead.
[Hank mutters]
I'm sorry, I didn't know. My condolences.
Does your mother know you're doing this?
My mom's in prison for killing my dad.
[Boys laugh]
Okay, I get it. You're joking.
Well, I've got a sense of humor.
I laugh at Tony Danza.
Of course, if you aren't joking,
I feel bad and I apologize.
[Synthesizer repeating Hank's words]
All right, that's it.
HANK: I'm gonna count to three...
CANE: One, two, three!
[Hard rock music starts]
[Shouting] I'm not horsing around here!
Lucky for you,
I don't have time for this right now!
Come on, Bobby.
Let's go to the Fun Center!
CANE: Fun Center! Fun Center!
BOBBY: Fun Center! Fun Center!
[Game beeping]
[Both grunting]
Please, Dad. Can we please play paintball?
Now hold on a minute.
Let's see. They give you kids guns
and let you shoot at each other?
Yeah, okay.
[Birds chirping]
[Sighs]
Kids will be out there an hour or two.
HANK: We can get in some nice, relaxed...
DALE: Ball guy.
[Men grunting]
[Groaning]
Dad!
These older guys cornered us in a hole...
and they kept firing and firing.
[Coughs]
They made us eat leaves.
What? Who did this to you?
Cane Skretteburg!
Yeah, I'm a singer.
Got my own band.
Playing next week at the Park 'n' Ride.
Wow!
This is a really good Xerox of you.
HANK: Hey, you.
What is wrong with you,
picking on little kids like that?
How would you like it if someone bigger
and stronger shot you up, you little freak?
Cane Skretteburg has never been shot.
BOYS: Damn right.
And the first guy to do it
is not gonna be some fat old desk jockey.
Desk jockey?
I am a finely tuned ex-high-school athlete.
I spent four years holding guys like you
upside down over toilets.
I don't care how many guys
you held in the men's room.
You still can't beat us.
What do you say? You want to teach
some punks a little respect?
BILL: Yeah.
DALE: Very little.
REFEREE: Okay.
Your goal is to capture the blue flag
from over there, and bring it back here.
When you get hit, you're dead.
[Whistling]
HANK: All right, men. Let's paint some ass.
[Instrumental military music]
I think we're closing in on them.
Only talk if you have something
important to say.
BILL: Okay.
I got some important news in the mail
this morning.
Did you know that,
thanks to Colonial Valley...
I can purchase term life insurance
for only pennies a month?
Boy, I'm glad I opened that immediately.
DALE: You gonna do it, Bill?
BILL: I can't afford not to.
[Hank shushing]
HANK: This is it, guys.
Everybody hunker down.
[All grunting]
[Bill moaning]
[Bill's pants ripping]
[Sighs] Okay, men.
This is no time to go easy on these punks.
That's the mistake their parents made.
CANE: They're over here.
I heard the bald guy split his pants.
Drop your weapons
or suffer the consequences!
[All exclaiming]
HANK: What? We lost the game already?
CANE: March, prisoners.
Now, wait a minute.
No one told us anything about prisoners.
Where's that damn ref?
CANE: Halt. Attention, golfers.
We have captured your comrades!
[Golfer greets Hank]
Keep your eyes on the ball.
Nothing going on here.
Just teaching some punks a lesson.
That's my dad.
CANE: On your knees, prisoners!
It's the rules. You're not cheaters, are you?
[Instrumental patriotic music]
[Groaning]
These kinds of games
go back and forth, like basketball.
They're in the lead now,
but we're coming back.
[Exclaiming]
[Raving]
Wait a minute.
You can't just execute my men.
Later, Pops.
"Pops"?
[Boys laughing]
[Hank gasping]
[Gasps]
[Protesting]
God, how humiliating.
[Golf balls hitting metal]
[Crickets chirping]
[Hank sighs]
Later, Pops.
[Gasping]
[Boys laughing]
[Moaning]
[Birds chirping]
[Lighter clicking]
HANK: Afternoon, everybody.
[Bill stammers]
Who wants a cold one?
You want a cold one?
Got some cold ones here. They're cold.
That sure is cold, all right.
Maybe I should've brought mittens.
[Chuckles]
[Others chuckling tentatively]
BOOMHAUER: Yeah.
[Boomhauer mumbling]
My dang old mittens, man.
[Sobbing]
How long are we going
to keep up this false charade?
"Cha-rahd"? Man.
I tell you what.
That word's pronounced "charade."
I need a cold one.
You want a cold one?
[Repeatedly] Here's a cold one for you.
I hope you're all happy.
There's no cold ones left for me.
Open up your eyes, man.
You're holding a beer.
You call this beer? "Guatemalica"?
HANK: Who bought this stuff?
BILL: Not me.
Of course not. Bill, buy beer?
No need to do that
when you got friends to mooch off of.
[Protesting] Some friends you are.
When my wife left me
'cause I was lazy and dependent...
did even one of you find me a new one? No.
Stop it.
I can't stand fighting.
Yeah, we know that.
You showed that on the paintball field.
I am not a coward.
[Dale sobbing]
[Bill groaning]
[Sobbing]
Dang old bully, man, y'all.
[Music playing on TV]
[Exclaims] What are you doing?
I'm helping Bobby look like Cane.
BOBBY: He's so cool. He said I could be
the Stubborn Stains' groupie.
The word is "roadie," Bobby.
He meant "roadie."
At least, I hope to God.
[Peggy humming]
[Rock music playing in distance]
Hank.
For goodness sake,
just put on your glasses.
Only old people need glasses to read.
I use mine to drive and run and jump.
Hank, I am giving you a look.
[Hesitating]
Okay.
[Peggy humming]
[Rock music grows louder]
[Hank groans]
[Feedback screeching]
[Hank yelling]
[Hard rock instrumental music]
[Yells]
[Boys laughing]
[Guffawing]
[Groans]
[Laughing]
[Men shouting]
[Guffaws]
[Exclaiming]
[Guffaws]
[Screaming]
[Hank screaming]
[Gasps]
[Ominous instrumental music]
[Yelling]
[Moaning]
[Shouting]
HANK: What is it?
PEGGY: Those kids.
HANK: I can't take it anymore.
PEGGY: So tell them to knock it off.
[Stuttering] Who, me?
I've already got my slippers off.
[Sighs] Maybe you should tell them.
Have you forgotten who you are?
You are Hank freaking Hill...
the man who won the Texas Propane
Association Blue Flame of Valor Award.
The man who drove raccoon after raccoon
out of our attic...
armed only with a broom handle
and a pillowcase.
The man whose sperm struggled through
that tiny urethra God cursed you with...
to create our wonderful son.
Now, you go back out there,
and get yourself a rematch.
[Sighs]
You really think
we could beat them this time?
Well, I know a few raccoons who'd say:
"Hank Hill can do anything
he puts his mind to."
[Hank hems]
Anything?
[Bed creaking in distance]
[Gasps]
[Yelling] Dad, the raccoons are back.
Rematch? I thought we agreed
never to discuss...
the horrors that we saw
on the killing fields of the Fun Center.
This is not over.
We're not losers, and we're not quitters.
Those paintballs really hurt, don't they?
I mean, I'm just saying
what everybody thinks, right?
The way I see it,
we're at a critical moment here.
Is this when we start turning into
the weird old guys of the block...
who can't open up their doors...
without finding a flaming fudge bag
on the mat?
Or do we fight back?
BILL: Yeah. I think we should fight.
BILL: We fight back a lot hard, too.
[All muttering]
[Hard rock music playing in garage]
[Music volume interrupts]
[Cane's band playing acoustically]
[Music stops]
Rematch. Tomorrow. Noon.
If you got any guts, you'll be there.
[Scoffs] Sorry, Pops. My car broke down.
[Hank grunts]
[Engine starts]
HANK: Rematch. Tomorrow. Noon.
If you've got any guts, you'll be there.
BILL: Yeah.
DALE: All right, men. Let's go.
I'm gonna get those guys.
[Hard rock music playing in garage]
Well, at least this time
one of us got a shot off.
Sorry, Bill.
[Boomhauer grunts]
Yupper.
Yup.
[Sighs]
Yup.
Yes, sirree.
Then it's agreed. We're old.
Get used to it.
You're in for the downhill ride of your life.
[Bill stammers]
With Colonial Valley...
you can get $40,000
of stroke coverage just for signing up.
That's not chump change.
And you can never be denied coverage
based on what you eat.
Well, I guess I'd better check this out.
It's never too early to think about dying.
[Cane shouting]
CANE: Somebody needs a touch up.
[Exclaims]
[Rock music playing in car]
[Cane yells]
HANK: Those damn kids.
We said we were old.
What do they want from us?
It's just kids having their fun, Hank.
Don't try to figure them out,
they can't be figured.
Just shake your fist at them like this.
They won't come back.
[Whooping] Looks like
they want a second coat!
[Tires screeching]
CANE: All right, ladies!
[Bill groans]
I thought you said
they wouldn't come back.
If I could understand teenagers...
I wouldn't get my mailbox
knocked over every week.
[Hank grunts]
HANK: Maybe that's it.
POPS: What's it?
If we don't want to end up
feeble and helpless like Pops...
we've got to do what he never did:
Understand the mind of a teenager.
Observe its habits, learn its ways.
That's how we beat those punks.
[All agreeing]
Who's Pops?
[Recruit sobbing]
[Clipper buzzing]
[Recruits laughing]
"Teenagers can be so cruel."
[Military instrumental music]
Okay, Pimples, hop on up.
LUANNE: Buckley,
I'm going to Cane's concert...
as his special guest, not his girlfriend.
I don't know. I don't trust this guy.
Well, if you're so worried, come with me.
Cane told me
to bring a friend for the drummer.
You mean it?
[Chuckles]
Stock boy, we need some sugar in Aisle 3.
[Chuckles]
[Yelling]
Oh, snap.
[Luanne gasps]
"Teenagers are clumsy around girls."
[Dale humming]
[Military instrumental music]
Jerkwad. You sprayed poison
on my veggie wrap.
"Teenagers show no respect
for a man in uniform."
CANE: Hey, Pops!
How did you know to find us here?
Well, it's a school day, isn't it?
So, you ready for a fresh coat?
[Laughing]
You boys seem pretty sure of yourselves.
Maybe you'd like to put a little wager
on today's match.
Well, what do you have in mind?
Let's make the stakes high for both of us.
You put up your amplifier,
and I'll put up Bill's leaf blower.
All right, you got a deal.
[Dramatic instrumental music]
Guys, where are you?
[Exclaims]
[Groans] I twisted my ankle.
Time out, everyone!
Guys? Seriously, I give up. Don't shoot.
Uncle.
[Groans]
[Snickering]
[Bill yelps]
[Empty guns clicking]
[Guns cocking]
[Boys groan]
You were right, Bill. Teenagers are cruel.
They'll pick on the slowest, heaviest...
Well, the important thing is
you were right, Bill.
I still don't see why I had to be the decoy.
You were gonna get shot anyway.
Still...
LUANNE ON MACHINE: Hi. It's Luanne.
How're you doing?
What, me?
[Zeus groans]
LUANNE ON MACHINE: Leave a message
after the beep.
DALE: Beep.
[Exclaims]
[Dale laughing]
DALE: Beep, beep, beep!
[Shots firing]
Dang, man. You've got to
watch that friendly fire, man.
You don't need to doggone frag me,
like I'm a dang old...
I can't help it. They trained me too well.
I am the most efficient killing machine
the world has ever...
[Exclaims]
Three down...
and one to go.
[Military instrumental music]
Did you see some potbellied old guy
with loser glasses come huffing past here?
HANK: Sure. He's traveling up
the creek bed to cover his tracks.
And, young fella, you lose.
[Groans]
[Shots firing]
[Crows cawing]
His scoop's bigger.
I think you're gonna enjoy
the world of acoustics.
[Whimpers]
[Golf balls hitting metal]
[Cane's band playing acoustically]
This sucks!
[Knocking at door]
Who could that be?
Good Lord! That could start a fire.
[Laughing]
Now what's happening?
He's stomping it good.
There's doodies in there, right?
There sure is, Pops.
There sure is.
[Military instrumental music]
[Military instrumental music]
[Theme song playing]
BOBBY: Dad, the raccoons are back!
[Sighs]
[Motor accelerates]
[Bill stammers]
Wait a minute. There!
One of the leaves just moved.
You're shoving it with the nozzle, Bill.
Well, that's what you get
for buying a Japanese leaf-blower.
It's built for blowing
those little bonsai bushes...
and cherry blossoms.
For crying out loud, it's 5:30.
Will you punks turn off that racket-maker?
It's called a leaf-blower, Pops.
Runs on a newfangled device
called the gasoline engine.
[All laughing]
What the hell's wrong
with using a rake, you lazy punks?
A rake, you say?
I never heard of a rake. Have you, Bill?
Nope, must have been before our time.
I tell you what, man. I seen a dang old
rake over at that there Smithsonian...
next to Lincoln's hat and Archie's chair,
dang old caveman section.
Don't you cuss at me, Jimmy Dean.
I'll set my dog on you.
[Dog yelps]
HANK: See ya, Pops.
Keep watching Touched By An Angel.
[Theme song playing]
[Hank laughs]
HANK: Here comes the shut-in.
Lucky kid.
The doctor says getting chicken pox
at the age of 12...
could cause sterility in weaker children.
DALE: My Joseph better not be sterile.
I need my seed to live on.
Certain plans of mine
require additional Gribbles.
HANK: Bobby, I'm proud of you.
Getting over the chicken pox
is a milestone.
So to celebrate,
you can do anything you want.
[Weakly] How about we go
to the Family Fun Center?
[Weakly] Yay! The Family Fun Center.
They have go-carts and skeeball...
[Wheezing] and mini-golf.
I like their blood-pressure machine.
Can we, Dad?
[Microphone feedback screeching
in distance]
Oh, boy! There goes that rock band again.
[Hank groans]
That's not rock.
It's okay if you only know three chords...
but, God, put them in the right order.
That noise has been
giving Nancy headaches all week.
Then yesterday,
her back broke out in scratch marks.
Well, I'll go over and straighten them out.
[Hank grumbling]
Yuck!
I wonder if that music
is what killed this grass.
[Drum roll]
[Feedback]
HANK: Fellas, could I
have your attention, please?
Wow! Cane Skretteburg!
You're that 12th-grader
who put "Don't" on all the stop signs.
CANE: Peace.
BOBBY: Wow!
Fellas, my name is Hank Hill,
and I'm the block captain.
Now, it's not that I don't like music,
it's just that...
[Synthesizer repeating Hank's words]
Now cut that out. This is serious.
My Lord!
You've got five plugs in one outlet, here.
Does your father know you're doing this?
My dad's dead.
[Hank mutters]
I'm sorry, I didn't know. My condolences.
Does your mother know you're doing this?
My mom's in prison for killing my dad.
[Boys laugh]
Okay, I get it. You're joking.
Well, I've got a sense of humor.
I laugh at Tony Danza.
Of course, if you aren't joking,
I feel bad and I apologize.
[Synthesizer repeating Hank's words]
All right, that's it.
HANK: I'm gonna count to three...
CANE: One, two, three!
[Hard rock music starts]
[Shouting] I'm not horsing around here!
Lucky for you,
I don't have time for this right now!
Come on, Bobby.
Let's go to the Fun Center!
CANE: Fun Center! Fun Center!
BOBBY: Fun Center! Fun Center!
[Game beeping]
[Both grunting]
Please, Dad. Can we please play paintball?
Now hold on a minute.
Let's see. They give you kids guns
and let you shoot at each other?
Yeah, okay.
[Birds chirping]
[Sighs]
Kids will be out there an hour or two.
HANK: We can get in some nice, relaxed...
DALE: Ball guy.
[Men grunting]
[Groaning]
Dad!
These older guys cornered us in a hole...
and they kept firing and firing.
[Coughs]
They made us eat leaves.
What? Who did this to you?
Cane Skretteburg!
Yeah, I'm a singer.
Got my own band.
Playing next week at the Park 'n' Ride.
Wow!
This is a really good Xerox of you.
HANK: Hey, you.
What is wrong with you,
picking on little kids like that?
How would you like it if someone bigger
and stronger shot you up, you little freak?
Cane Skretteburg has never been shot.
BOYS: Damn right.
And the first guy to do it
is not gonna be some fat old desk jockey.
Desk jockey?
I am a finely tuned ex-high-school athlete.
I spent four years holding guys like you
upside down over toilets.
I don't care how many guys
you held in the men's room.
You still can't beat us.
What do you say? You want to teach
some punks a little respect?
BILL: Yeah.
DALE: Very little.
REFEREE: Okay.
Your goal is to capture the blue flag
from over there, and bring it back here.
When you get hit, you're dead.
[Whistling]
HANK: All right, men. Let's paint some ass.
[Instrumental military music]
I think we're closing in on them.
Only talk if you have something
important to say.
BILL: Okay.
I got some important news in the mail
this morning.
Did you know that,
thanks to Colonial Valley...
I can purchase term life insurance
for only pennies a month?
Boy, I'm glad I opened that immediately.
DALE: You gonna do it, Bill?
BILL: I can't afford not to.
[Hank shushing]
HANK: This is it, guys.
Everybody hunker down.
[All grunting]
[Bill moaning]
[Bill's pants ripping]
[Sighs] Okay, men.
This is no time to go easy on these punks.
That's the mistake their parents made.
CANE: They're over here.
I heard the bald guy split his pants.
Drop your weapons
or suffer the consequences!
[All exclaiming]
HANK: What? We lost the game already?
CANE: March, prisoners.
Now, wait a minute.
No one told us anything about prisoners.
Where's that damn ref?
CANE: Halt. Attention, golfers.
We have captured your comrades!
[Golfer greets Hank]
Keep your eyes on the ball.
Nothing going on here.
Just teaching some punks a lesson.
That's my dad.
CANE: On your knees, prisoners!
It's the rules. You're not cheaters, are you?
[Instrumental patriotic music]
[Groaning]
These kinds of games
go back and forth, like basketball.
They're in the lead now,
but we're coming back.
[Exclaiming]
[Raving]
Wait a minute.
You can't just execute my men.
Later, Pops.
"Pops"?
[Boys laughing]
[Hank gasping]
[Gasps]
[Protesting]
God, how humiliating.
[Golf balls hitting metal]
[Crickets chirping]
[Hank sighs]
Later, Pops.
[Gasping]
[Boys laughing]
[Moaning]
[Birds chirping]
[Lighter clicking]
HANK: Afternoon, everybody.
[Bill stammers]
Who wants a cold one?
You want a cold one?
Got some cold ones here. They're cold.
That sure is cold, all right.
Maybe I should've brought mittens.
[Chuckles]
[Others chuckling tentatively]
BOOMHAUER: Yeah.
[Boomhauer mumbling]
My dang old mittens, man.
[Sobbing]
How long are we going
to keep up this false charade?
"Cha-rahd"? Man.
I tell you what.
That word's pronounced "charade."
I need a cold one.
You want a cold one?
[Repeatedly] Here's a cold one for you.
I hope you're all happy.
There's no cold ones left for me.
Open up your eyes, man.
You're holding a beer.
You call this beer? "Guatemalica"?
HANK: Who bought this stuff?
BILL: Not me.
Of course not. Bill, buy beer?
No need to do that
when you got friends to mooch off of.
[Protesting] Some friends you are.
When my wife left me
'cause I was lazy and dependent...
did even one of you find me a new one? No.
Stop it.
I can't stand fighting.
Yeah, we know that.
You showed that on the paintball field.
I am not a coward.
[Dale sobbing]
[Bill groaning]
[Sobbing]
Dang old bully, man, y'all.
[Music playing on TV]
[Exclaims] What are you doing?
I'm helping Bobby look like Cane.
BOBBY: He's so cool. He said I could be
the Stubborn Stains' groupie.
The word is "roadie," Bobby.
He meant "roadie."
At least, I hope to God.
[Peggy humming]
[Rock music playing in distance]
Hank.
For goodness sake,
just put on your glasses.
Only old people need glasses to read.
I use mine to drive and run and jump.
Hank, I am giving you a look.
[Hesitating]
Okay.
[Peggy humming]
[Rock music grows louder]
[Hank groans]
[Feedback screeching]
[Hank yelling]
[Hard rock instrumental music]
[Yells]
[Boys laughing]
[Guffawing]
[Groans]
[Laughing]
[Men shouting]
[Guffaws]
[Exclaiming]
[Guffaws]
[Screaming]
[Hank screaming]
[Gasps]
[Ominous instrumental music]
[Yelling]
[Moaning]
[Shouting]
HANK: What is it?
PEGGY: Those kids.
HANK: I can't take it anymore.
PEGGY: So tell them to knock it off.
[Stuttering] Who, me?
I've already got my slippers off.
[Sighs] Maybe you should tell them.
Have you forgotten who you are?
You are Hank freaking Hill...
the man who won the Texas Propane
Association Blue Flame of Valor Award.
The man who drove raccoon after raccoon
out of our attic...
armed only with a broom handle
and a pillowcase.
The man whose sperm struggled through
that tiny urethra God cursed you with...
to create our wonderful son.
Now, you go back out there,
and get yourself a rematch.
[Sighs]
You really think
we could beat them this time?
Well, I know a few raccoons who'd say:
"Hank Hill can do anything
he puts his mind to."
[Hank hems]
Anything?
[Bed creaking in distance]
[Gasps]
[Yelling] Dad, the raccoons are back.
Rematch? I thought we agreed
never to discuss...
the horrors that we saw
on the killing fields of the Fun Center.
This is not over.
We're not losers, and we're not quitters.
Those paintballs really hurt, don't they?
I mean, I'm just saying
what everybody thinks, right?
The way I see it,
we're at a critical moment here.
Is this when we start turning into
the weird old guys of the block...
who can't open up their doors...
without finding a flaming fudge bag
on the mat?
Or do we fight back?
BILL: Yeah. I think we should fight.
BILL: We fight back a lot hard, too.
[All muttering]
[Hard rock music playing in garage]
[Music volume interrupts]
[Cane's band playing acoustically]
[Music stops]
Rematch. Tomorrow. Noon.
If you got any guts, you'll be there.
[Scoffs] Sorry, Pops. My car broke down.
[Hank grunts]
[Engine starts]
HANK: Rematch. Tomorrow. Noon.
If you've got any guts, you'll be there.
BILL: Yeah.
DALE: All right, men. Let's go.
I'm gonna get those guys.
[Hard rock music playing in garage]
Well, at least this time
one of us got a shot off.
Sorry, Bill.
[Boomhauer grunts]
Yupper.
Yup.
[Sighs]
Yup.
Yes, sirree.
Then it's agreed. We're old.
Get used to it.
You're in for the downhill ride of your life.
[Bill stammers]
With Colonial Valley...
you can get $40,000
of stroke coverage just for signing up.
That's not chump change.
And you can never be denied coverage
based on what you eat.
Well, I guess I'd better check this out.
It's never too early to think about dying.
[Cane shouting]
CANE: Somebody needs a touch up.
[Exclaims]
[Rock music playing in car]
[Cane yells]
HANK: Those damn kids.
We said we were old.
What do they want from us?
It's just kids having their fun, Hank.
Don't try to figure them out,
they can't be figured.
Just shake your fist at them like this.
They won't come back.
[Whooping] Looks like
they want a second coat!
[Tires screeching]
CANE: All right, ladies!
[Bill groans]
I thought you said
they wouldn't come back.
If I could understand teenagers...
I wouldn't get my mailbox
knocked over every week.
[Hank grunts]
HANK: Maybe that's it.
POPS: What's it?
If we don't want to end up
feeble and helpless like Pops...
we've got to do what he never did:
Understand the mind of a teenager.
Observe its habits, learn its ways.
That's how we beat those punks.
[All agreeing]
Who's Pops?
[Recruit sobbing]
[Clipper buzzing]
[Recruits laughing]
"Teenagers can be so cruel."
[Military instrumental music]
Okay, Pimples, hop on up.
LUANNE: Buckley,
I'm going to Cane's concert...
as his special guest, not his girlfriend.
I don't know. I don't trust this guy.
Well, if you're so worried, come with me.
Cane told me
to bring a friend for the drummer.
You mean it?
[Chuckles]
Stock boy, we need some sugar in Aisle 3.
[Chuckles]
[Yelling]
Oh, snap.
[Luanne gasps]
"Teenagers are clumsy around girls."
[Dale humming]
[Military instrumental music]
Jerkwad. You sprayed poison
on my veggie wrap.
"Teenagers show no respect
for a man in uniform."
CANE: Hey, Pops!
How did you know to find us here?
Well, it's a school day, isn't it?
So, you ready for a fresh coat?
[Laughing]
You boys seem pretty sure of yourselves.
Maybe you'd like to put a little wager
on today's match.
Well, what do you have in mind?
Let's make the stakes high for both of us.
You put up your amplifier,
and I'll put up Bill's leaf blower.
All right, you got a deal.
[Dramatic instrumental music]
Guys, where are you?
[Exclaims]
[Groans] I twisted my ankle.
Time out, everyone!
Guys? Seriously, I give up. Don't shoot.
Uncle.
[Groans]
[Snickering]
[Bill yelps]
[Empty guns clicking]
[Guns cocking]
[Boys groan]
You were right, Bill. Teenagers are cruel.
They'll pick on the slowest, heaviest...
Well, the important thing is
you were right, Bill.
I still don't see why I had to be the decoy.
You were gonna get shot anyway.
Still...
LUANNE ON MACHINE: Hi. It's Luanne.
How're you doing?
What, me?
[Zeus groans]
LUANNE ON MACHINE: Leave a message
after the beep.
DALE: Beep.
[Exclaims]
[Dale laughing]
DALE: Beep, beep, beep!
[Shots firing]
Dang, man. You've got to
watch that friendly fire, man.
You don't need to doggone frag me,
like I'm a dang old...
I can't help it. They trained me too well.
I am the most efficient killing machine
the world has ever...
[Exclaims]
Three down...
and one to go.
[Military instrumental music]
Did you see some potbellied old guy
with loser glasses come huffing past here?
HANK: Sure. He's traveling up
the creek bed to cover his tracks.
And, young fella, you lose.
[Groans]
[Shots firing]
[Crows cawing]
His scoop's bigger.
I think you're gonna enjoy
the world of acoustics.
[Whimpers]
[Golf balls hitting metal]
[Cane's band playing acoustically]
This sucks!
[Knocking at door]
Who could that be?
Good Lord! That could start a fire.
[Laughing]
Now what's happening?
He's stomping it good.
There's doodies in there, right?
There sure is, Pops.
There sure is.
[Military instrumental music]
[Military instrumental music]
[Theme song playing]
BOBBY: Dad, the raccoons are back!