King of the Hill (1997–2010): Season 6, Episode 8 - Joust Like a Woman - full transcript
Peggy jeopardizes a potential deal for Hank by trying to bring Women's Liberation to the Arlen Renaissance Fair.
Enjoy that new Char King, Earl.
I gotta say,
I really appreciate your business.
Forget him, Hank. He's chump change.
I got a lead on a new client so big...
it'll put all my bastard sons
through college.
-The Renaissance Faire's in town.
-""Hear ye! Hear ye! ""
With all due respect, sir...
do we really want propane mixed up
in this sort of thing?
Last year I would have said, ""Hell, no! ""
But it's a new normal, Hank.
You want a Christmas bonus this year...
you sell them leotards
every gallon you can!
Who goes there?
Hank Hill, Assistant Manager,
Strickland Propane.
I'm here to talk to a Philip Motzinger.
You mean King Philip.
But begging your pardon...
you cannot pass in that horseless carriage
and manner of dress...
for they do not exist in our year, 1590.
Why don't you cut the goofy talk
and just open the gate?
Look, the Alamo Beer guy
was cool about it.
There was a lover aid his lass
with a hey aid a ho aid a hey ioiiy-io
-Prithee, join me.
-Just drive the cart.
King Philip, my liege, I bring a merchant
who wishes to display his wares.
Hank Hill, Strickland Propane.
So you are keeper of the flame.
Assistant keeper of the flame.
Our kingdom is accepting bids
from members of your guild.
We require 1,000 stone a week
of your magic gas.
A stone is, in your native tongue, a gallon.
1,000 gallons a week?
What are you fellows doing with it?
That is the most beautiful thing
I have ever seen...
I tell ye what.
Honest to God, he did it just like this.
It was crazy.
Men in the Renaissance period often shook
wrist to wrist to check for daggers...
and because they did not use toilet paper.
We gotta go!
I haven't had a caramel apple in weeks!
I've never seen anything like it.
Everyone was dressed up
and playing make-believe.
That part was asinine. But, boy!
They got a dragon that burns
1,000 gallons of propane a week.
Yep, you heard me. A week.
If I can close this deal, I can get us
that second sink in the bathroom.
No more bumping heads when we brush.
That would be paradise. But.... But wait.
We agreed I am saving up for the sink
with my notary fees.
-Well, that should cover the sales tax.
-But I'm--
Just don't leave your hair in it.
That's the only payment I need.
Okay, Luanne, since you're older...
I'm putting you in charge
of the spending money.
Spend it any way you want
with three rules.
No tights, tassels, or skirts on the boy.
Oh, and no bells. Have fun.
It says right here, ""one dollar discount
with period costume.""
Well, I'm from the future,
and the future is a period.
Ergo, this is a period costume! Period!
Good morrow, all.
Hey, there, sire.
I'd like you to meet my lady, Lady Peggy.
Delighted.
Well, nice to meet you, Phil.
Now, I'm not a Renaissance expert,
but I did substitute-teach Chapter 6 in...
The World oi Parade,,,
and let me tell you, you have kept
your historical inaccuracies to a minimum.
What inaccuracies dost thy mean?
I think you meant ""dost thou mean.""
And your British accent
is really, really close.
Well, now that you've met my wife,
maybe I should meet your propane needs.
We should not discuss matters of trade
in the presence of the fairer sex.
-Let's away!
-Oh, yeah, sure.
Peggy, I'm gonna ""away""
with King Motzinger.
Why don't you away...away.
And the ""E"" stands for ""Economical.""
Some people think the ""E"" stands for
""Even-Burning,"" but it doesn't.
-So do we have your business?
-Hey, dude, it's the king.
We wage war on France on the morrow!
That is so gay.
Prince Thatherton of Thatherton Fuels...
was here last eve pledging on his honor
to undersell you by 10%%.
The difference between
Strickland Propane and Thatherton Fuels...
besides Thatherton's lack of focus,
is service.
I do demand proper service.
Then Strickland Propane
is the place for you.
This is mead! I said grog!
-I'm sorry. I--
-Away!
A good wench is so hard to find.
You're fortunate. Yours seems sturdy.
If I had her in my employ...
it would solidify the bond
between our two kingdoms.
Peggy is not an actual employee
of Strickland Propane.
But, at Strickland Propane, our motto is...
""lf you have a problem, tell us what it is...
""and we will try to take care of it
as soon as we can.""
Oh, wait, wait. Have you already started?
Because I'm thinking of going back
to ""Number One Mom.""
Hey, Peggy. Guess who wants you
to work in his kingdom?
The king. How about that, huh?
Now you actually could
help me get that sink.
Oh, I could. But will l?
Sure! We'll be a great team.
Side by side, like our double sinks.
-King Philip, sir?
-How now, gas man?
Pretty good, thanks.
My wife Peggy is ready
to serve the kingdom.
I am a Renaissance woman.
This is a Renaissance Faire.
-We are a perfect fit.
-Delightful.
I've got just the hole for this peg.
Hear ye, hear ye, by order of King Philip...
for the crime of offering her own opinion...
this impudent wench has been sentenced
to one hour in the stocks.
Hoist your fruit, good men.
[Men laughing]
Okay, Phil. Where do I start?
King Philip sent us here
about a job for my wife.
I'm not saying it has to be a good job.
But, again, we were referred by the king.
All right, bear with me a sec.
This thing is so freaking slow.
I would make
an excellent wandering minstrel.
If I can play guitar on the StairMaster...
I certainly can do it while wandering.
No, see, you're a woman.
Other than the yard-long margaritas...
we're pretty strict
about historical accuracy.
You're pretty much looking at
cleaning wench, stable wench...
or butter-churning wench.
Are you sure you don't have any openings
for a queen? Warrior princess?
No. I can go over the wenches again.
Is cleaning wench
the highest-ranking wench?
Highest?
Oh, yes.
When a tour comes by, clean the rug
by beating the dirt out of it.
When the tour leaves,
dirty the rug by sprinkling dirt on it.
Well, as back-to-back-to-back
Substitute Teacher of the Year...
I may look far too intelligent
to be a cleaning wench.
I just hope people buy it.
I am sweating like a horse here.
Well, what happened to you?
I was punished
for my sloth and impertinence.
Why are you talking like that?
Honey, you don't want the king
to catch you breaking character.
Once he put me on stable duty
for humming an Elvis song.
TOUR GUlDE: Follow me, fair visitors.
To our tasks, everyone!
Villagers approach.
I hope you enjoyed
the stable and the sty.
We now move on to some more comely
beasts of burden, the wenches.
Good morrow, everyone.
I am beating a rug.
A very important job,
for castles were oft drafty and--
-Wench, whom addressed thee?
-I addressed myself.
Since there was no such thing
as a vacuum cleaner in the Middle Ages--
What speak you of vacuum cleaner?
-Peggy, hold thine tongue!
-Oh, oh, oh, right, right, right.
In the future,
they will invent a magical sucking device...
to free women from household drudgery!
If thou can foretell the future,
perhaps thou art a witch!
She is no witch, milord.
Merely tetched in the head from the sun.
She's a witch!
-Witch! Witch!
-Witch!
[Bugle blowing]
How now? Is there unrest in my kingdom?
She's a witch!
Well, I guess if they burn you at the stake,
they'll be using my propane.
You'll find it burns witches
cleanly and evenly...
and at a fraction of the cost of natural gas.
You know, this cleaning-wench thing
isn't really doing it for me.
If her arms worked
as hard as her serpent's tongue...
there would be nary
a speck of dust in the kingdom.
[Sighing with relief]
This is not
what nature intended for my implants.
That fat Merlin
finished all the chicken wings.
Why do the wenches
always get the last lunch break?
Because Philip is an ass.
Speaking of which,
he grabbed mine again this morning.
But he's your boss.
That is sexual harassment.
Well, King Philip says
that's all just tomfoolery.
You know, it's okay to humiliate me
when I'm Becky, the butter-churner...
but not when I'm Becky, the person.
-Oh, by the way, my name's Becky.
-Peggy Hill, rug wench.
You know, maybe
he just doesn't have good people skills.
You know, sometimes I don't.
See Brandon over there?
He started here a year ago.
Makes twice as much as me.
You know what?
As the highest-ranking wench,
maybe I should talk to the king.
It is time we rewrote history.
Hey, Philip, you got a second?
Mr. Motzinger?
-King Philip?
-Oh, I'm sorry.
I was just counting my treasure
from the Americas.
What is the reason for this interruption?
One of the girls got out her laptop
and we went on some labor websites....
-""Laptop""?
-Oh, come on. This is serious.
You have women working more than
40 hours a week without overtime.
There is no sanitary-napkin dispenser
in the ladies' Porta-John.
And are you familiar with the
Family and Medical Leave Act of 1993?
How could I be? It is but 1590.
Why don't you drop the act
and you explain to me...
why the wenches make 70 cents on the
dollar and the village idiot gets full dental?
You are but a woman,
and I have given you enough of my time!
Begone!
God dangit! That's my third pair
of these goddang tights today.
At least you get to wear tights.
These are my work stockings.
How do you ladies put up with this?
Well, we put up
with a lot more than that, Hank.
Just now,
when I was complaining to King Philip--
Whoa, whoa! Complaining? No.
The customer complains,
not the gas merchant's wench.
-You're gonna skunk the deal.
-But I just--
Look, if the king gives you a hard time,
come see me, and I'll handle it.
-Whatever you do, don't open your mouth.
-I can fight my own battles.
Mouth!
If King Philip isn't ready
for the Age of Reason...
we will dust off a Dark Ages classic,
the peasant revolt!
-Everyone grab a tomato!
-Are you crazy? You'll get us all fired!
He can't fire all of us.
Who will do the laundry, huh?
The blacksmith? He's filthy!
This Faire will grind to a halt, and
Philip will be forced to meet our demands.
Look, I can't take any chances.
I have a daughter...
and she needs a prom dress. And it has
to be the one from the magazine...
or all the other girls will make fun of her!
Aren't you willing to risk
this demeaning job today...
to give your daughter
a brighter tomorrow?
Or whenever her prom is?
[Bugle blowing]
Hear ye. Hear ye.
All rise for the royal procession.
-I hand you tomatoes of freedom!
-Give me a firm one!
What a fine day for a Faire it is!
Welcome to my kingdom.
It's now or never! Now!
Come on, throw!
I'm sorry.
The One-Wench Rebellion of 1590
has been quashed!
HANK: Peggy?
Well, I'm sorry, Hank.
I guess everyone here likes things
the way they are.
I'll go back to beating the rug now.
I wonder, Madam...
if I can expect the same impertinence
from your husband's propanery...
that I have come to expect from you.
-Please, Hank had nothing to do with this.
-Guards!
Seize this wench
and take her to the stocks!
What are you doing?
Take your hands off her!
No, no. It's okay, Hank. I'm not here.
I'm in our bathroom over my own sink.
-And I'm flossing, Hank. I'm flossing.
-Oh!
Okay, that's it. Show's over.
Hank, stop! You'll lose the account.
Listen to your shrew.
In her nagging, there is wisdom.
Dangit! There are more important things
than a sale!
You take off that crown!
I'm kicking your ass!
Oh, you demand satisfaction? Fine.
-Then we shall joust by day's end!
-Say huh?
If you are able to tilt me off my steed...
then I will apologize to you and yon hag
and purchase your gas.
But if I should send thou
tumbling to the dirt...
then you and your gas
will be banished from the kingdom.
But not before your wif...
cleans the man-sweat from my blouse.
Fine! You are in
for the joust of your life, mister!
Yep, the joust of your life.
-Yep.
-Yep.
Bleep. Yeah, you're gonna get killed, Hank.
I'd offer to help,
but the prime directive forbids me...
from altering the course of history.
If I do, you will win,
but the universe will lose...
and who wants that? Besides you.
No chump in a velvet costume
is ever kicking my ass.
Hank, I don't need to tell you
how important this joust is, do l?
Of course not. My wife's honor is at stake.
Yes, I do.
Hank, I already made my ""in your face""
call to Thatherton!
Don't muck this up!
And if Hank hadn't been there
to defend me...
I might still be in the stocks.
And towards the end there,
they were throwing potatoes.
Which I had to tell them
was more historically accurate.
My mouth.
What do you think gonna happen
after the joust?
You know, when Hank is killed,
with Peggy?
In the Middle Ages...
there was an orderly procedure
for the dispensation of the wife.
Unlike in today's gynocracy.
Ownership goes from the son
to the dog to the best friend.
Bobby's too young, Ladybird's too old,
I already own a wife...
Boomhauer doesn't have the time.
So, Bill, this could be your in.
Don't worry, Peggy. I'll take care of you.
That is as unnecessary as it is repulsive.
-Peggy Hill can take care of herself.
-Oh, boy!
You're gonna have your hands full
with this one, Bill.
-Next item, Hank's lawnmower.
-Yo, man. I got dibs on it.
Oh, you're all a bunch of morons!
I think you should know
I've never jousted before.
-Or ridden a horse.
-He'll do most of the work.
Now, if he bucks you, make sure to
cover your neck and your testicles.
The joust is commencing!
The joust is commencing!
Go, Hank!
Go, Dad!
-Bobby!
-Oh!
Tell me, peasant...
how does it feel to have lost the joust,
your wench's honor...
and the propane account
in one mighty thrust of my lance?
It's a bitter taste, I'm sure.
And ye shall savor it...
for seven score fortnights anon!
[Horse neighing]
Huh?
Hey, King Make-Believe!
You just got beat by a girl.
-Yeah! All right, Mom!
-Hooray!
Help me to my feet,
you gaggle of magpies!
-What hand you me?
-It's a lawsuit, honey.
""Department of Labor, OSHA...
""Texas Workforce Commission""?
Crap! I'm gonna lose my Faire.
I don't want to go back
to selling real estate.
We did it, Peggy.
Well, I just wish
I'd been born 500 years ago.
I could have single-handedly saved
womankind forever.
-I helped, too, you know.
-Yes, Hank.
Everybody helped.
Just try not to fall off the horse this time.
The prime directive has been breached!
Women's liberation
has happened too soon!
I must warn the future!
Take me with you! I hate it here.
PHlLlP: How iow, gas mai?
I gotta say,
I really appreciate your business.
Forget him, Hank. He's chump change.
I got a lead on a new client so big...
it'll put all my bastard sons
through college.
-The Renaissance Faire's in town.
-""Hear ye! Hear ye! ""
With all due respect, sir...
do we really want propane mixed up
in this sort of thing?
Last year I would have said, ""Hell, no! ""
But it's a new normal, Hank.
You want a Christmas bonus this year...
you sell them leotards
every gallon you can!
Who goes there?
Hank Hill, Assistant Manager,
Strickland Propane.
I'm here to talk to a Philip Motzinger.
You mean King Philip.
But begging your pardon...
you cannot pass in that horseless carriage
and manner of dress...
for they do not exist in our year, 1590.
Why don't you cut the goofy talk
and just open the gate?
Look, the Alamo Beer guy
was cool about it.
There was a lover aid his lass
with a hey aid a ho aid a hey ioiiy-io
-Prithee, join me.
-Just drive the cart.
King Philip, my liege, I bring a merchant
who wishes to display his wares.
Hank Hill, Strickland Propane.
So you are keeper of the flame.
Assistant keeper of the flame.
Our kingdom is accepting bids
from members of your guild.
We require 1,000 stone a week
of your magic gas.
A stone is, in your native tongue, a gallon.
1,000 gallons a week?
What are you fellows doing with it?
That is the most beautiful thing
I have ever seen...
I tell ye what.
Honest to God, he did it just like this.
It was crazy.
Men in the Renaissance period often shook
wrist to wrist to check for daggers...
and because they did not use toilet paper.
We gotta go!
I haven't had a caramel apple in weeks!
I've never seen anything like it.
Everyone was dressed up
and playing make-believe.
That part was asinine. But, boy!
They got a dragon that burns
1,000 gallons of propane a week.
Yep, you heard me. A week.
If I can close this deal, I can get us
that second sink in the bathroom.
No more bumping heads when we brush.
That would be paradise. But.... But wait.
We agreed I am saving up for the sink
with my notary fees.
-Well, that should cover the sales tax.
-But I'm--
Just don't leave your hair in it.
That's the only payment I need.
Okay, Luanne, since you're older...
I'm putting you in charge
of the spending money.
Spend it any way you want
with three rules.
No tights, tassels, or skirts on the boy.
Oh, and no bells. Have fun.
It says right here, ""one dollar discount
with period costume.""
Well, I'm from the future,
and the future is a period.
Ergo, this is a period costume! Period!
Good morrow, all.
Hey, there, sire.
I'd like you to meet my lady, Lady Peggy.
Delighted.
Well, nice to meet you, Phil.
Now, I'm not a Renaissance expert,
but I did substitute-teach Chapter 6 in...
The World oi Parade,,,
and let me tell you, you have kept
your historical inaccuracies to a minimum.
What inaccuracies dost thy mean?
I think you meant ""dost thou mean.""
And your British accent
is really, really close.
Well, now that you've met my wife,
maybe I should meet your propane needs.
We should not discuss matters of trade
in the presence of the fairer sex.
-Let's away!
-Oh, yeah, sure.
Peggy, I'm gonna ""away""
with King Motzinger.
Why don't you away...away.
And the ""E"" stands for ""Economical.""
Some people think the ""E"" stands for
""Even-Burning,"" but it doesn't.
-So do we have your business?
-Hey, dude, it's the king.
We wage war on France on the morrow!
That is so gay.
Prince Thatherton of Thatherton Fuels...
was here last eve pledging on his honor
to undersell you by 10%%.
The difference between
Strickland Propane and Thatherton Fuels...
besides Thatherton's lack of focus,
is service.
I do demand proper service.
Then Strickland Propane
is the place for you.
This is mead! I said grog!
-I'm sorry. I--
-Away!
A good wench is so hard to find.
You're fortunate. Yours seems sturdy.
If I had her in my employ...
it would solidify the bond
between our two kingdoms.
Peggy is not an actual employee
of Strickland Propane.
But, at Strickland Propane, our motto is...
""lf you have a problem, tell us what it is...
""and we will try to take care of it
as soon as we can.""
Oh, wait, wait. Have you already started?
Because I'm thinking of going back
to ""Number One Mom.""
Hey, Peggy. Guess who wants you
to work in his kingdom?
The king. How about that, huh?
Now you actually could
help me get that sink.
Oh, I could. But will l?
Sure! We'll be a great team.
Side by side, like our double sinks.
-King Philip, sir?
-How now, gas man?
Pretty good, thanks.
My wife Peggy is ready
to serve the kingdom.
I am a Renaissance woman.
This is a Renaissance Faire.
-We are a perfect fit.
-Delightful.
I've got just the hole for this peg.
Hear ye, hear ye, by order of King Philip...
for the crime of offering her own opinion...
this impudent wench has been sentenced
to one hour in the stocks.
Hoist your fruit, good men.
[Men laughing]
Okay, Phil. Where do I start?
King Philip sent us here
about a job for my wife.
I'm not saying it has to be a good job.
But, again, we were referred by the king.
All right, bear with me a sec.
This thing is so freaking slow.
I would make
an excellent wandering minstrel.
If I can play guitar on the StairMaster...
I certainly can do it while wandering.
No, see, you're a woman.
Other than the yard-long margaritas...
we're pretty strict
about historical accuracy.
You're pretty much looking at
cleaning wench, stable wench...
or butter-churning wench.
Are you sure you don't have any openings
for a queen? Warrior princess?
No. I can go over the wenches again.
Is cleaning wench
the highest-ranking wench?
Highest?
Oh, yes.
When a tour comes by, clean the rug
by beating the dirt out of it.
When the tour leaves,
dirty the rug by sprinkling dirt on it.
Well, as back-to-back-to-back
Substitute Teacher of the Year...
I may look far too intelligent
to be a cleaning wench.
I just hope people buy it.
I am sweating like a horse here.
Well, what happened to you?
I was punished
for my sloth and impertinence.
Why are you talking like that?
Honey, you don't want the king
to catch you breaking character.
Once he put me on stable duty
for humming an Elvis song.
TOUR GUlDE: Follow me, fair visitors.
To our tasks, everyone!
Villagers approach.
I hope you enjoyed
the stable and the sty.
We now move on to some more comely
beasts of burden, the wenches.
Good morrow, everyone.
I am beating a rug.
A very important job,
for castles were oft drafty and--
-Wench, whom addressed thee?
-I addressed myself.
Since there was no such thing
as a vacuum cleaner in the Middle Ages--
What speak you of vacuum cleaner?
-Peggy, hold thine tongue!
-Oh, oh, oh, right, right, right.
In the future,
they will invent a magical sucking device...
to free women from household drudgery!
If thou can foretell the future,
perhaps thou art a witch!
She is no witch, milord.
Merely tetched in the head from the sun.
She's a witch!
-Witch! Witch!
-Witch!
[Bugle blowing]
How now? Is there unrest in my kingdom?
She's a witch!
Well, I guess if they burn you at the stake,
they'll be using my propane.
You'll find it burns witches
cleanly and evenly...
and at a fraction of the cost of natural gas.
You know, this cleaning-wench thing
isn't really doing it for me.
If her arms worked
as hard as her serpent's tongue...
there would be nary
a speck of dust in the kingdom.
[Sighing with relief]
This is not
what nature intended for my implants.
That fat Merlin
finished all the chicken wings.
Why do the wenches
always get the last lunch break?
Because Philip is an ass.
Speaking of which,
he grabbed mine again this morning.
But he's your boss.
That is sexual harassment.
Well, King Philip says
that's all just tomfoolery.
You know, it's okay to humiliate me
when I'm Becky, the butter-churner...
but not when I'm Becky, the person.
-Oh, by the way, my name's Becky.
-Peggy Hill, rug wench.
You know, maybe
he just doesn't have good people skills.
You know, sometimes I don't.
See Brandon over there?
He started here a year ago.
Makes twice as much as me.
You know what?
As the highest-ranking wench,
maybe I should talk to the king.
It is time we rewrote history.
Hey, Philip, you got a second?
Mr. Motzinger?
-King Philip?
-Oh, I'm sorry.
I was just counting my treasure
from the Americas.
What is the reason for this interruption?
One of the girls got out her laptop
and we went on some labor websites....
-""Laptop""?
-Oh, come on. This is serious.
You have women working more than
40 hours a week without overtime.
There is no sanitary-napkin dispenser
in the ladies' Porta-John.
And are you familiar with the
Family and Medical Leave Act of 1993?
How could I be? It is but 1590.
Why don't you drop the act
and you explain to me...
why the wenches make 70 cents on the
dollar and the village idiot gets full dental?
You are but a woman,
and I have given you enough of my time!
Begone!
God dangit! That's my third pair
of these goddang tights today.
At least you get to wear tights.
These are my work stockings.
How do you ladies put up with this?
Well, we put up
with a lot more than that, Hank.
Just now,
when I was complaining to King Philip--
Whoa, whoa! Complaining? No.
The customer complains,
not the gas merchant's wench.
-You're gonna skunk the deal.
-But I just--
Look, if the king gives you a hard time,
come see me, and I'll handle it.
-Whatever you do, don't open your mouth.
-I can fight my own battles.
Mouth!
If King Philip isn't ready
for the Age of Reason...
we will dust off a Dark Ages classic,
the peasant revolt!
-Everyone grab a tomato!
-Are you crazy? You'll get us all fired!
He can't fire all of us.
Who will do the laundry, huh?
The blacksmith? He's filthy!
This Faire will grind to a halt, and
Philip will be forced to meet our demands.
Look, I can't take any chances.
I have a daughter...
and she needs a prom dress. And it has
to be the one from the magazine...
or all the other girls will make fun of her!
Aren't you willing to risk
this demeaning job today...
to give your daughter
a brighter tomorrow?
Or whenever her prom is?
[Bugle blowing]
Hear ye. Hear ye.
All rise for the royal procession.
-I hand you tomatoes of freedom!
-Give me a firm one!
What a fine day for a Faire it is!
Welcome to my kingdom.
It's now or never! Now!
Come on, throw!
I'm sorry.
The One-Wench Rebellion of 1590
has been quashed!
HANK: Peggy?
Well, I'm sorry, Hank.
I guess everyone here likes things
the way they are.
I'll go back to beating the rug now.
I wonder, Madam...
if I can expect the same impertinence
from your husband's propanery...
that I have come to expect from you.
-Please, Hank had nothing to do with this.
-Guards!
Seize this wench
and take her to the stocks!
What are you doing?
Take your hands off her!
No, no. It's okay, Hank. I'm not here.
I'm in our bathroom over my own sink.
-And I'm flossing, Hank. I'm flossing.
-Oh!
Okay, that's it. Show's over.
Hank, stop! You'll lose the account.
Listen to your shrew.
In her nagging, there is wisdom.
Dangit! There are more important things
than a sale!
You take off that crown!
I'm kicking your ass!
Oh, you demand satisfaction? Fine.
-Then we shall joust by day's end!
-Say huh?
If you are able to tilt me off my steed...
then I will apologize to you and yon hag
and purchase your gas.
But if I should send thou
tumbling to the dirt...
then you and your gas
will be banished from the kingdom.
But not before your wif...
cleans the man-sweat from my blouse.
Fine! You are in
for the joust of your life, mister!
Yep, the joust of your life.
-Yep.
-Yep.
Bleep. Yeah, you're gonna get killed, Hank.
I'd offer to help,
but the prime directive forbids me...
from altering the course of history.
If I do, you will win,
but the universe will lose...
and who wants that? Besides you.
No chump in a velvet costume
is ever kicking my ass.
Hank, I don't need to tell you
how important this joust is, do l?
Of course not. My wife's honor is at stake.
Yes, I do.
Hank, I already made my ""in your face""
call to Thatherton!
Don't muck this up!
And if Hank hadn't been there
to defend me...
I might still be in the stocks.
And towards the end there,
they were throwing potatoes.
Which I had to tell them
was more historically accurate.
My mouth.
What do you think gonna happen
after the joust?
You know, when Hank is killed,
with Peggy?
In the Middle Ages...
there was an orderly procedure
for the dispensation of the wife.
Unlike in today's gynocracy.
Ownership goes from the son
to the dog to the best friend.
Bobby's too young, Ladybird's too old,
I already own a wife...
Boomhauer doesn't have the time.
So, Bill, this could be your in.
Don't worry, Peggy. I'll take care of you.
That is as unnecessary as it is repulsive.
-Peggy Hill can take care of herself.
-Oh, boy!
You're gonna have your hands full
with this one, Bill.
-Next item, Hank's lawnmower.
-Yo, man. I got dibs on it.
Oh, you're all a bunch of morons!
I think you should know
I've never jousted before.
-Or ridden a horse.
-He'll do most of the work.
Now, if he bucks you, make sure to
cover your neck and your testicles.
The joust is commencing!
The joust is commencing!
Go, Hank!
Go, Dad!
-Bobby!
-Oh!
Tell me, peasant...
how does it feel to have lost the joust,
your wench's honor...
and the propane account
in one mighty thrust of my lance?
It's a bitter taste, I'm sure.
And ye shall savor it...
for seven score fortnights anon!
[Horse neighing]
Huh?
Hey, King Make-Believe!
You just got beat by a girl.
-Yeah! All right, Mom!
-Hooray!
Help me to my feet,
you gaggle of magpies!
-What hand you me?
-It's a lawsuit, honey.
""Department of Labor, OSHA...
""Texas Workforce Commission""?
Crap! I'm gonna lose my Faire.
I don't want to go back
to selling real estate.
We did it, Peggy.
Well, I just wish
I'd been born 500 years ago.
I could have single-handedly saved
womankind forever.
-I helped, too, you know.
-Yes, Hank.
Everybody helped.
Just try not to fall off the horse this time.
The prime directive has been breached!
Women's liberation
has happened too soon!
I must warn the future!
Take me with you! I hate it here.
PHlLlP: How iow, gas mai?