King of the Hill (1997–2010): Season 6, Episode 13 - Tankin' It to the Streets - full transcript
When Dale convinces Bill that the government used him as a guinea pig for an experimental drug with disastrous results, Bill steals a tank from the army base.
-Yep.
-Yep.
[helicopter whirring]
[exclaims]
Yep.
That's your CH-47D Chinook helicopter.
We're having war games this week.
It's kind of like our team bus.
Yeah? How's your team doing, Bill?
They won't let me play.
I'm just an Army barber.
All I do is cut hair.
I'm doing north of 85 heads a day.
My wrist hurts so much,
I can barely open my beer.
[exclaims]
Oh, give yourself a break, Bill.
You do more than cut hair.
You also straighten out magazines
and empty ashtrays.
Don't listen to him.
You're a very important cog
in the military machine.
Imagine if our boys went into battle
with hair in their eyes.
They'd be at a marked disadvantage,
I tell you what.
Hey, hillbillies, look at my new SUV!
This baby's so huge...
if I crash into your puny pickup,
you get flat like pancake.
[chuckles]
[tires screeching]
Where are you gonna keep it, smart guy?
It doesn't even fit in your garage.
[cackling] Maybe I keep garage in SUV.
Kiss my ass.
Easy on the ice cream, Bobby.
It's sold by weight.
I'm not getting any ice cream.
All toppings. More bang for the buck.
Care to guess the weight of your sundae?
Get it right, it's free.
Okay. I have two scoops of ice cream,
low-fat, not that I need it...
sliced bananas and gummy bears.
That weighs exactly 8.3 ounces.
Close. 4.5 ounces.
Better luck next time.
Eat this. I'm going again.
[helicopter whirring]
So, how are the war games
treating you, Corporal?
I'm dead. Sniper tagged me with his laser.
I think he caught the sun's reflection
off my grenade launcher.
Yeah. Anything shiny is a sure giveaway.
If I got to fight in the war games...
I'd tar my head
just in case my helmet fell off.
Hey, another good way to avoid snipers--
Yeah, with all due respect,
we're talking about blowing things up...
not blowing things dry.
Oh.
Sorry.
[yells]
My wrist.
-Permission to stop clipping, sir.
-Denied.
[patients groaning]
Okay, Sergeant Dauterive,
it's carpal tunnel syndrome.
You'll have to lay off cutting hair
for two weeks.
But that's all the army lets me do.
If you don't mind,
we need the bed for some soldiers.
I mean real soldiers. I mean....
You know what I mean.
Give your chart to the nurse
on the way out.
[groans]
Any of you guys have large portions
of your medical chart blacked out?
Just the stuff I did myself.
On a scale of one to ten,
I'd say eight of my file was crossed out.
Is that something to worry about?
Only if the idea of a massive cover-up
concerns you. Jeez.
Don't get him all jacked up about nothing.
If the United States government did it,
I'm sure they had a good reason.
Based on what I know
about Bill and cover-ups...
I'd say the army used him
in their attempted assassination...
of boxing promoter Bob Arum.
-ls he right, Hank?
-Has he ever been right, Bill?
You don't have to answer that.
If you want to know
what was under that black marker...
you need to get a hold
of your untransmogrified personnel file.
How do I do that?
Well, like any first-rate organization,
I'm sure the Army has a form...
you can request, fill out and submit.
Yeah. Good plan.
Why don't you also ask them for a tour
of the underwater White House?
You know, Dale, sometimes I think
you say things just to hear yourself talk.
What do you want me to do,
ignore myself?
Scoop full of Oreos.
Two ounces.
Half an ounce. Not even close.
Bobby, you just focus
on smashing those cookies.
I did not pull you out of school
to give me lip.
Exterminator.
Exterminator.
Now we'll see who talks out loud
just to hear himself speak.
[exclaims]
I was right.
All right, Dale.
Now that you've got us down here...
where's this top-secret
fishing rod of yours?
The fishing rod was just bait.
What about the fresh-baked cookies?
Almost done.
Now, Hank, what progress have you made
on obtaining Bill's personnel file?
I'll have you know I was right.
The government does have a form
for exactly this type of request.
Yeah. And they're gonna send us that form
in six to eight weeks.
Well, how's six to eight seconds?
[exclaims]
Now, as you will see
from this incontrovertible evidence...
Sergeant, then Private, Bill Dauterive
was given large doses...
of an experimental drug
from 1982 to 1984.
The Army was trying to create
an elite group of Arctic commandos...
stationed in Alaska
and able to withstand frigid temperatures.
They called it ""Operation lnfinite Walrus.""
Their mission, to repel an invasion...
if and when the Communists
came over the polar ice cap.
The drug was designed to promote
accumulation of heat-retaining blubber...
on the torso, foster the growth
of insulating body hair...
and create the ability
to undertake long periods of hibernation.
[stammering] Yeah.
But all those years they told me...
they were giving me super vitamin shots.
Side effects include headaches
and erectile dysfunction.
I gave 20 years of my life to the Army,
and this is what they did to me.
Bill, it was a different time.
It was back when we didn't know
the Russians were incompetent.
[whines]
[grunts]
[sobbing]
[door opens]
[oven timer rings]
Cookies.
Three, four, five....
Mama, look what they did
to your baby boy.
[exclaims]
[Bill mumbling]
Look out, world!
Fat, drunk, hairy, Army guinea pig
coming through!
[crickets chirping]
I saw the Army documents
with my own eyes.
It was all there in black and white.
Is this what my tax dollars are going for?
To put hair on Bill's back?
Poor Bill.
I cannot even fathom what it's like
to have low self-esteem.
And I can fathom just about anything.
Hold on. Let me take a guess.
Okay, magazine with toenail topping...
15.5 ounces.
Yes! It's all coming together, Hank.
[rumbling]
What the....
The Army found out I looked at their files.
I'll be in the safe room.
Don't let them take you alive, dear.
All right. We need some tunes.
[sighs]
[exclaims]
I got the head spins.
This is Hank Hill, block captain.
I know it's the war games...
and I don't want to second-guess
your tactics. But are you in distress?
Good Lord, I think there's some kind
of dead animal in there.
It's Bill. He's soused to the gills.
It's only Bill?
I scalded off my fingerprints for nothing?
[exclaims]
Come on, Bill, wake up. You stole a tank.
[mumbles]
I tell you what, man.
You had better call up somebody, man.
Someone will find out
about the dang old tank, man.
No! We can't tell the Army
Bill stole a tank.
They'll tell their superiors
at America Online and he'll be dead...
as well as everybody on his buddy list.
[exhales]
They won't do that.
But they will throw him in the stockade
for the rest of his life.
We've got to take the tank back ourselves.
It's Bill's only hope.
-Plus, we'll get to ride in a tank.
-I get to drive!
Hey, man! What're you talking about?
I'm gonna drive that tank, man.
It's got 1200 horsepower, man!
It's got too much muscle for your skinny
little old puny old arms of yours, man.
Not so fast, Boomhauer.
I've been driving bobtail trucks
at Strickland for two decades.
[mockingly]
Oh, I am so impressed.
Have you also downloaded the classified
instruction manual for this tank...
from Vladimir Putin's web site...
took a correspondence course in Russian...
translated the manual,
memorized it, and eaten it?
-Have you, Hank? Putin?
-All right, all right.
Peggy, I'm going to return the tank.
[exclaiming] I can't fall asleep
with all this excitement.
What do you say we go
to the Mega Lo Mart for a couple of...
-I'm there!
-...make-your-own sundaes?
[moaning]
All right. First.
[speaking Russian]
Then l....
[speaking Russian]
Straighten it out, Dale.
It feels like you're weaving.
I think I know how to handle a tank.
Now, where's the cigarette lighter?
Hold it, boys! Hold--
[exclaims]
[shouts] My ride! It's so cherry!
Damn it, Dale. I told you.
You just hit a curb.
[car alarm wailing]
[moans]
Open the hatch!
[vomiting]
-Not in the sandbox.
-Relax, Hank.
Studies show that your average sandbox
is only 30%% sand.
The rest is a m?laige of urine, feces...
animal feces and et cetera.
Bill, I want you to stand downwind of me...
and tell me what you hoped
to accomplish by stealing this tank.
I don't know. I was at the base,
I was drunk, I couldn't find my car keys....
And look at me!
Look at what they did to me!
Did they take your clothes?
No. But they took everything else.
When I first enlisted...
I had the body
of ai all-city offeisive liiemai,,,
aid hair like Roger Daltrey,
I sigied up for the armored divisioi
aid I waited to be a taik driver,
Oh, yeah, I had the coifideice of a mai
with a washboard stomach,,,
aid a smooth back,
Aid thei they started giviig me
my super vitamii shots,
Now look at me.
I'm a big fat pant-load
throwing up in the sandbox.
I know you're disappointed
with the way you turned out.
We all are.
But the good news is, it's not your fault.
All those things that were great
about you back in high school...
the confidence, the charm, the pep...
they're still a part of you.
They're just hidden inside
the government's bloated, lazy body.
What?
So it's not my fault
that I'm fat, bald and lazy?
Or that your breath always stinks
like rotting garbage.
My breath smells?
It doesn't smell pleasant most of the time.
Why didn't you guys ever say anything?
Well, we didn't tell you because
it would have hurt your feelings.
But now that we know
it's the government's fault...
well, Bill, your breath stinks.
Yeah, man.
I'll tell you something else, man.
You talking about standing in the alley,
man, that old cooler ain't cold, man.
Paint don't dry
and the sun don't shine, man.
-You know what I'm saying?
-You think I'm boring, too?
Yes!
Yeah. But don't take it personally.
-You see, it's--
-Not my fault!
I'm not a loser.
Deep down under all this
government ape fur, I'm a winner.
Well, I'll be damned
if I'm gonna let the Army...
Iock me away for the rest of my life.
We are taking the tank back to the base
and I'm driving.
-Hi. Would you like to guess the--
-Save your spiel for the rookies.
10.1 ounces.
-I'm so sorry. 10.3.
-What?
Oh, Peggy, you idiot.
The cup. Of course, the cup.
Peggy, you genius.
I always knew I'd be a great tank driver.
Just like I always knew
I'd live close to Hank.
[police siren wailing]
Oh, God! It's the cops.
I wonder how much trouble you get in
for stealing a tank.
And taking three hostages. Help!
No. This isn't over.
Maybe I still have a silver tongue
underneath all the plaque.
What's this tank doing out on the streets?
We were told the war games
would be limited to the base.
Are you questioning my authority?
I am a sergeant
in the United States Army...
and you are impeding a military operation.
-What are you looking at?
-Nothing, Sergeant.
You just seem a little out of uniform.
Have you ever driven
an Abrams M1A2 tank?
-No, sir.
-Do you have any idea...
how hot it gets inside
that heavily armored fighting machine?
-No, sir.
-I did not think so!
Now, I suggest you get back inside
that black-and-white...
and forget everything you've seen here.
Do I make myself clear?
-Yes, sir!
-All right, move out!
And you! I'm gonna need your name
and phone number.
I'm also gonna need you
to keep Saturday night open...
because I'm taking you dancing.
Sir, yes, sir.
Yeah, as soon as we drop this baby off,
my life enters chapter two.
The good years.
Dang it, fella, I'm proud of you.
I'm proud of me, too.
[missile whizzing]
[exclaims]
That's live artillery.
Bill, where the hell are we?
By the looks of all these tanks
being blown up...
I'd say we're on the target range
for the war games.
(Dale) Gentlemen, the crap has literally
been scared out of me.
[Dale screaming]
Stop! We're in here.
[exclaiming]
Oh, God. They must think
we're a target tank. What do we do?
Don't worry. My years of military training
will take over.
Sir, how do you want your sideburns?
No, wait. That doesn't apply.
-Give me a minute.
-Choosing life!
Incoming! Coming back in.
It's safer in here
in my armor-plated womb.
Can I listen to your heartbeat, Hank?
Bill, you spent 20 years on this base.
How do we get off this dang target range?
What are you asking Bill for?
The Army destroyed all his brain cells
with their deadly placebo drug.
No wonder he's an ignoranus.
-What did you say?
-lgnoranus! It means ""stupid,"" you moron!
-Dale, you said ""placebo.""
-Yeah. I read it in Bill's file.
That was the name of the drug
they gave him. ""Placebo.""
I think it's made by Pfizer.
Dale, you're the moron.
A placebo's a fake drug.
They shot Bill full of sugar water.
Sugar water?
They didn't think I was even worthy
enough to be a guinea pig?
Quit pouting, Bill. It means
the government never tested on you.
That's good news for you
and the taxpayers.
Uh-uh. It means everything is my fault.
The fat, the fur, and all those other things
I didn't even know were wrong with me...
until my friends told me.
[weeping]
They're getting close.
I'll flash the high beams
so they know we're all in here.
I might have popped the trunk.
Hey, should those target tanks
be firing live ammo?
It must be a drone.
They said to be ready for anything.
-Let's see if we can hit it.
-Let's do it.
[crashing]
You idiot!
Now they're shooting right at us!
All right. Just calm down.
You guys go out the escape hatch...
and I'll drive the tank away
to draw their fire.
And leave you here to get blown up?
No way.
Don't worry about me.
I'll use my boxer shorts
to tie down the accelerator...
and then I'll jump out, too.
Now, move! Move! Do you hear me?
Two scoops vanilla,
one half-palmful of jimmies...
three medium-sized pecan bits...
and one ltalian maraschino cherry,
no stem.
Exactly 8.4 ounces.
Wrong. Wait, you're right.
-We have a winner.
-I'm sorry. We have a what?
Winner.
That's right, boy! Peggy Hill, winner.
Come on, Bobby. There's free ice cream.
Free at last, free at last!
Let's go! Run for the woods!
We'll be safe from the shells
under the branches and leaves.
Great job, Bill!
Now, come on, get out of there.
[singing "Freebird" by Lynyrd Skynyrd]
Target bearing 408 and closing.
Fire in the hole!
-Bill!
-Bill, man!
He's gone.
Bill's dead.
[sobbing] Dang old Bill, man.
Bill was a good friend.
He gave his life to save ours.
I can safely say I would not have done
the same for him.
[sighs]
The last thing I told him
was he had bad breath.
I wish I would have told him
that he was a brave man...
honest, sweet...
[weeping] like a big old stuffed teddy bear.
I'm gonna miss him.
[all sobbing] Yeah, man, dang old Bill, man.
[Bill sobbing]
Bill? You're alive.
You made it out in time.
Somehow I got blowed out
by the explosion.
That hurt.
Hey, look, my carpal tunnel is gone.
[exclaims] That is gross.
I heard what you guys said, though.
That I was brave and honest
and a good friend.
Do you still think that
now that I'm not dead?
-Yep.
-Yep.
[exclaims]
Sir, you have the honor
of being my first lefty haircut.
How does it look?
It's too short, uneven...
and you totally obliterated
one of my sideburns.
But, on the plus side...
I must say your breath
is unusually minty and inoffensive.
Sir, I'm brushing every day now, sir.
Well, carry on, Sergeant.
[whistling]
[ovei timer riigs]
(Dale)
Cookies,
-Yep.
[helicopter whirring]
[exclaims]
Yep.
That's your CH-47D Chinook helicopter.
We're having war games this week.
It's kind of like our team bus.
Yeah? How's your team doing, Bill?
They won't let me play.
I'm just an Army barber.
All I do is cut hair.
I'm doing north of 85 heads a day.
My wrist hurts so much,
I can barely open my beer.
[exclaims]
Oh, give yourself a break, Bill.
You do more than cut hair.
You also straighten out magazines
and empty ashtrays.
Don't listen to him.
You're a very important cog
in the military machine.
Imagine if our boys went into battle
with hair in their eyes.
They'd be at a marked disadvantage,
I tell you what.
Hey, hillbillies, look at my new SUV!
This baby's so huge...
if I crash into your puny pickup,
you get flat like pancake.
[chuckles]
[tires screeching]
Where are you gonna keep it, smart guy?
It doesn't even fit in your garage.
[cackling] Maybe I keep garage in SUV.
Kiss my ass.
Easy on the ice cream, Bobby.
It's sold by weight.
I'm not getting any ice cream.
All toppings. More bang for the buck.
Care to guess the weight of your sundae?
Get it right, it's free.
Okay. I have two scoops of ice cream,
low-fat, not that I need it...
sliced bananas and gummy bears.
That weighs exactly 8.3 ounces.
Close. 4.5 ounces.
Better luck next time.
Eat this. I'm going again.
[helicopter whirring]
So, how are the war games
treating you, Corporal?
I'm dead. Sniper tagged me with his laser.
I think he caught the sun's reflection
off my grenade launcher.
Yeah. Anything shiny is a sure giveaway.
If I got to fight in the war games...
I'd tar my head
just in case my helmet fell off.
Hey, another good way to avoid snipers--
Yeah, with all due respect,
we're talking about blowing things up...
not blowing things dry.
Oh.
Sorry.
[yells]
My wrist.
-Permission to stop clipping, sir.
-Denied.
[patients groaning]
Okay, Sergeant Dauterive,
it's carpal tunnel syndrome.
You'll have to lay off cutting hair
for two weeks.
But that's all the army lets me do.
If you don't mind,
we need the bed for some soldiers.
I mean real soldiers. I mean....
You know what I mean.
Give your chart to the nurse
on the way out.
[groans]
Any of you guys have large portions
of your medical chart blacked out?
Just the stuff I did myself.
On a scale of one to ten,
I'd say eight of my file was crossed out.
Is that something to worry about?
Only if the idea of a massive cover-up
concerns you. Jeez.
Don't get him all jacked up about nothing.
If the United States government did it,
I'm sure they had a good reason.
Based on what I know
about Bill and cover-ups...
I'd say the army used him
in their attempted assassination...
of boxing promoter Bob Arum.
-ls he right, Hank?
-Has he ever been right, Bill?
You don't have to answer that.
If you want to know
what was under that black marker...
you need to get a hold
of your untransmogrified personnel file.
How do I do that?
Well, like any first-rate organization,
I'm sure the Army has a form...
you can request, fill out and submit.
Yeah. Good plan.
Why don't you also ask them for a tour
of the underwater White House?
You know, Dale, sometimes I think
you say things just to hear yourself talk.
What do you want me to do,
ignore myself?
Scoop full of Oreos.
Two ounces.
Half an ounce. Not even close.
Bobby, you just focus
on smashing those cookies.
I did not pull you out of school
to give me lip.
Exterminator.
Exterminator.
Now we'll see who talks out loud
just to hear himself speak.
[exclaims]
I was right.
All right, Dale.
Now that you've got us down here...
where's this top-secret
fishing rod of yours?
The fishing rod was just bait.
What about the fresh-baked cookies?
Almost done.
Now, Hank, what progress have you made
on obtaining Bill's personnel file?
I'll have you know I was right.
The government does have a form
for exactly this type of request.
Yeah. And they're gonna send us that form
in six to eight weeks.
Well, how's six to eight seconds?
[exclaims]
Now, as you will see
from this incontrovertible evidence...
Sergeant, then Private, Bill Dauterive
was given large doses...
of an experimental drug
from 1982 to 1984.
The Army was trying to create
an elite group of Arctic commandos...
stationed in Alaska
and able to withstand frigid temperatures.
They called it ""Operation lnfinite Walrus.""
Their mission, to repel an invasion...
if and when the Communists
came over the polar ice cap.
The drug was designed to promote
accumulation of heat-retaining blubber...
on the torso, foster the growth
of insulating body hair...
and create the ability
to undertake long periods of hibernation.
[stammering] Yeah.
But all those years they told me...
they were giving me super vitamin shots.
Side effects include headaches
and erectile dysfunction.
I gave 20 years of my life to the Army,
and this is what they did to me.
Bill, it was a different time.
It was back when we didn't know
the Russians were incompetent.
[whines]
[grunts]
[sobbing]
[door opens]
[oven timer rings]
Cookies.
Three, four, five....
Mama, look what they did
to your baby boy.
[exclaims]
[Bill mumbling]
Look out, world!
Fat, drunk, hairy, Army guinea pig
coming through!
[crickets chirping]
I saw the Army documents
with my own eyes.
It was all there in black and white.
Is this what my tax dollars are going for?
To put hair on Bill's back?
Poor Bill.
I cannot even fathom what it's like
to have low self-esteem.
And I can fathom just about anything.
Hold on. Let me take a guess.
Okay, magazine with toenail topping...
15.5 ounces.
Yes! It's all coming together, Hank.
[rumbling]
What the....
The Army found out I looked at their files.
I'll be in the safe room.
Don't let them take you alive, dear.
All right. We need some tunes.
[sighs]
[exclaims]
I got the head spins.
This is Hank Hill, block captain.
I know it's the war games...
and I don't want to second-guess
your tactics. But are you in distress?
Good Lord, I think there's some kind
of dead animal in there.
It's Bill. He's soused to the gills.
It's only Bill?
I scalded off my fingerprints for nothing?
[exclaims]
Come on, Bill, wake up. You stole a tank.
[mumbles]
I tell you what, man.
You had better call up somebody, man.
Someone will find out
about the dang old tank, man.
No! We can't tell the Army
Bill stole a tank.
They'll tell their superiors
at America Online and he'll be dead...
as well as everybody on his buddy list.
[exhales]
They won't do that.
But they will throw him in the stockade
for the rest of his life.
We've got to take the tank back ourselves.
It's Bill's only hope.
-Plus, we'll get to ride in a tank.
-I get to drive!
Hey, man! What're you talking about?
I'm gonna drive that tank, man.
It's got 1200 horsepower, man!
It's got too much muscle for your skinny
little old puny old arms of yours, man.
Not so fast, Boomhauer.
I've been driving bobtail trucks
at Strickland for two decades.
[mockingly]
Oh, I am so impressed.
Have you also downloaded the classified
instruction manual for this tank...
from Vladimir Putin's web site...
took a correspondence course in Russian...
translated the manual,
memorized it, and eaten it?
-Have you, Hank? Putin?
-All right, all right.
Peggy, I'm going to return the tank.
[exclaiming] I can't fall asleep
with all this excitement.
What do you say we go
to the Mega Lo Mart for a couple of...
-I'm there!
-...make-your-own sundaes?
[moaning]
All right. First.
[speaking Russian]
Then l....
[speaking Russian]
Straighten it out, Dale.
It feels like you're weaving.
I think I know how to handle a tank.
Now, where's the cigarette lighter?
Hold it, boys! Hold--
[exclaims]
[shouts] My ride! It's so cherry!
Damn it, Dale. I told you.
You just hit a curb.
[car alarm wailing]
[moans]
Open the hatch!
[vomiting]
-Not in the sandbox.
-Relax, Hank.
Studies show that your average sandbox
is only 30%% sand.
The rest is a m?laige of urine, feces...
animal feces and et cetera.
Bill, I want you to stand downwind of me...
and tell me what you hoped
to accomplish by stealing this tank.
I don't know. I was at the base,
I was drunk, I couldn't find my car keys....
And look at me!
Look at what they did to me!
Did they take your clothes?
No. But they took everything else.
When I first enlisted...
I had the body
of ai all-city offeisive liiemai,,,
aid hair like Roger Daltrey,
I sigied up for the armored divisioi
aid I waited to be a taik driver,
Oh, yeah, I had the coifideice of a mai
with a washboard stomach,,,
aid a smooth back,
Aid thei they started giviig me
my super vitamii shots,
Now look at me.
I'm a big fat pant-load
throwing up in the sandbox.
I know you're disappointed
with the way you turned out.
We all are.
But the good news is, it's not your fault.
All those things that were great
about you back in high school...
the confidence, the charm, the pep...
they're still a part of you.
They're just hidden inside
the government's bloated, lazy body.
What?
So it's not my fault
that I'm fat, bald and lazy?
Or that your breath always stinks
like rotting garbage.
My breath smells?
It doesn't smell pleasant most of the time.
Why didn't you guys ever say anything?
Well, we didn't tell you because
it would have hurt your feelings.
But now that we know
it's the government's fault...
well, Bill, your breath stinks.
Yeah, man.
I'll tell you something else, man.
You talking about standing in the alley,
man, that old cooler ain't cold, man.
Paint don't dry
and the sun don't shine, man.
-You know what I'm saying?
-You think I'm boring, too?
Yes!
Yeah. But don't take it personally.
-You see, it's--
-Not my fault!
I'm not a loser.
Deep down under all this
government ape fur, I'm a winner.
Well, I'll be damned
if I'm gonna let the Army...
Iock me away for the rest of my life.
We are taking the tank back to the base
and I'm driving.
-Hi. Would you like to guess the--
-Save your spiel for the rookies.
10.1 ounces.
-I'm so sorry. 10.3.
-What?
Oh, Peggy, you idiot.
The cup. Of course, the cup.
Peggy, you genius.
I always knew I'd be a great tank driver.
Just like I always knew
I'd live close to Hank.
[police siren wailing]
Oh, God! It's the cops.
I wonder how much trouble you get in
for stealing a tank.
And taking three hostages. Help!
No. This isn't over.
Maybe I still have a silver tongue
underneath all the plaque.
What's this tank doing out on the streets?
We were told the war games
would be limited to the base.
Are you questioning my authority?
I am a sergeant
in the United States Army...
and you are impeding a military operation.
-What are you looking at?
-Nothing, Sergeant.
You just seem a little out of uniform.
Have you ever driven
an Abrams M1A2 tank?
-No, sir.
-Do you have any idea...
how hot it gets inside
that heavily armored fighting machine?
-No, sir.
-I did not think so!
Now, I suggest you get back inside
that black-and-white...
and forget everything you've seen here.
Do I make myself clear?
-Yes, sir!
-All right, move out!
And you! I'm gonna need your name
and phone number.
I'm also gonna need you
to keep Saturday night open...
because I'm taking you dancing.
Sir, yes, sir.
Yeah, as soon as we drop this baby off,
my life enters chapter two.
The good years.
Dang it, fella, I'm proud of you.
I'm proud of me, too.
[missile whizzing]
[exclaims]
That's live artillery.
Bill, where the hell are we?
By the looks of all these tanks
being blown up...
I'd say we're on the target range
for the war games.
(Dale) Gentlemen, the crap has literally
been scared out of me.
[Dale screaming]
Stop! We're in here.
[exclaiming]
Oh, God. They must think
we're a target tank. What do we do?
Don't worry. My years of military training
will take over.
Sir, how do you want your sideburns?
No, wait. That doesn't apply.
-Give me a minute.
-Choosing life!
Incoming! Coming back in.
It's safer in here
in my armor-plated womb.
Can I listen to your heartbeat, Hank?
Bill, you spent 20 years on this base.
How do we get off this dang target range?
What are you asking Bill for?
The Army destroyed all his brain cells
with their deadly placebo drug.
No wonder he's an ignoranus.
-What did you say?
-lgnoranus! It means ""stupid,"" you moron!
-Dale, you said ""placebo.""
-Yeah. I read it in Bill's file.
That was the name of the drug
they gave him. ""Placebo.""
I think it's made by Pfizer.
Dale, you're the moron.
A placebo's a fake drug.
They shot Bill full of sugar water.
Sugar water?
They didn't think I was even worthy
enough to be a guinea pig?
Quit pouting, Bill. It means
the government never tested on you.
That's good news for you
and the taxpayers.
Uh-uh. It means everything is my fault.
The fat, the fur, and all those other things
I didn't even know were wrong with me...
until my friends told me.
[weeping]
They're getting close.
I'll flash the high beams
so they know we're all in here.
I might have popped the trunk.
Hey, should those target tanks
be firing live ammo?
It must be a drone.
They said to be ready for anything.
-Let's see if we can hit it.
-Let's do it.
[crashing]
You idiot!
Now they're shooting right at us!
All right. Just calm down.
You guys go out the escape hatch...
and I'll drive the tank away
to draw their fire.
And leave you here to get blown up?
No way.
Don't worry about me.
I'll use my boxer shorts
to tie down the accelerator...
and then I'll jump out, too.
Now, move! Move! Do you hear me?
Two scoops vanilla,
one half-palmful of jimmies...
three medium-sized pecan bits...
and one ltalian maraschino cherry,
no stem.
Exactly 8.4 ounces.
Wrong. Wait, you're right.
-We have a winner.
-I'm sorry. We have a what?
Winner.
That's right, boy! Peggy Hill, winner.
Come on, Bobby. There's free ice cream.
Free at last, free at last!
Let's go! Run for the woods!
We'll be safe from the shells
under the branches and leaves.
Great job, Bill!
Now, come on, get out of there.
[singing "Freebird" by Lynyrd Skynyrd]
Target bearing 408 and closing.
Fire in the hole!
-Bill!
-Bill, man!
He's gone.
Bill's dead.
[sobbing] Dang old Bill, man.
Bill was a good friend.
He gave his life to save ours.
I can safely say I would not have done
the same for him.
[sighs]
The last thing I told him
was he had bad breath.
I wish I would have told him
that he was a brave man...
honest, sweet...
[weeping] like a big old stuffed teddy bear.
I'm gonna miss him.
[all sobbing] Yeah, man, dang old Bill, man.
[Bill sobbing]
Bill? You're alive.
You made it out in time.
Somehow I got blowed out
by the explosion.
That hurt.
Hey, look, my carpal tunnel is gone.
[exclaims] That is gross.
I heard what you guys said, though.
That I was brave and honest
and a good friend.
Do you still think that
now that I'm not dead?
-Yep.
-Yep.
[exclaims]
Sir, you have the honor
of being my first lefty haircut.
How does it look?
It's too short, uneven...
and you totally obliterated
one of my sideburns.
But, on the plus side...
I must say your breath
is unusually minty and inoffensive.
Sir, I'm brushing every day now, sir.
Well, carry on, Sergeant.
[whistling]
[ovei timer riigs]
(Dale)
Cookies,