King of the Hill (1997–2010): Season 7, Episode 11 - Boxing Luanne - full transcript

Luanne becomes a boxer.

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"X" equals two...

GUY:
Come on, reach
up higher.

"Y" equals seven.

GUY:
Your butt equals ten.

Why don’t you
take a picture, Stu?

It would last longer.

Okay. Work it.

(Gus chuckling)

"X" equals jerk,
"Y' equals pig...



Hey, you kicked me.

I'm sorry.

I closed my eyes,
and I was thinking

of those stupid guys
in my math class.

Oh, and the guy
in the parking lot,

and that volunteer
pool cleaner

who always comes by
when I'm swimming.

Tell me about it.

I once fell for a free breast
examination in a bar.

It just makes me so...
ooh, so... mmm!

MAN (on TV):
There's nothing
in the rule book

that was a robot

can't play in the Frat Olympics.

Hey, why don't the nerds
just move across town



instead of living right next
door to the jock fraternity?

That way, nobody

will be constantly
breaking their gadgets.

No, no, that's
wrong, Bobby.

If the nerds stood up
to them once in a while

they wouldn't get
their gadgets broken
in the first place.

Listen, if you don't fight
for yourself

you're never going to get
anyone's respect.

Yeah, there's nothing worse
than people not respecting you.

Every time I get hooted at,

I have to take
an hour of Tae Bo.

Tae Bo? Is that
that new Oriental way

of moving your couch around?

Nuh-uh. It's an exercise class
where you punch and you kick

till you can’t think
of anything else no more.

No, actually, you punch, kick,
kick, squat, squat,

rest, two, three,
all to music, and kick.

Oh, it's dancing.

Huh. That sounds...

No.

Uh, Mr. Strickland,
a couple of folks

from the Chamber
of Commerce are here

to thank you
for your work with the orphans.

Orphans? Chamber of Commerce?

You are so modest, sir.

Well, looky who's
back from rehab.

It's, uh, it's my
little baby brother.

I want my money, Buck.

Boy, you never were much
with the ladies, but...

Ow, ow, ow!

Watch it there, Shrek,
that's a Eye-talian suit.

Greta
ain't my girlfriend.

She's a lady boxer
I manage.

Although we did get dirty
one time.

(animal-like grunting)

All right, all right, I'll pay.

Donna, put a hold
on them payroll checks.

You putting the squeeze on me
really takes me back.

Hey, I know a new girlie club

where we could ogle
some ladies... no cover charge.

Whoo-whee!
Whata workout!

I'm sweating
like a lumberjack.

Well, hey, there, Luanne.

Good workout.

Yeah, it looked good from here.

If you were looking at me

I'm going
to have to have

both of your
gym memberships revoked.

And I would hate to do that
because you both look terrible.

Uh, no, no, no.

W-We're,
we're just, uh, uh...

Scouting talent.

Yeah, I'm a
boxing promoter

and, uh, we’re just
here scouting talent.

I'd love to see
you in the ring.

Boxing.

Huh. My mama's in prison

'cause she fights so much.

Do you think
that there's some way

her genes could have been
passed down to me?

Wait a minute, Randy.

Luanne here might make

a really good opponent
for Greta.

Yeah, we could put up posters
all over town.

Call it "Beauty and the Beast."

Which one am I?

Because if it's okay with you,
I'd like to be the beast.

(growling)

Did I scare you?

Okay, guess
who I ran into at the gym?

Buck Strickland.

He watched me do Tae Bo

and he thinks
that I'd make a great boxer.

Look, Luanne, I
fought at the "Y."

Trust me, you
are no boxer.

Y'uh-huh.

Friday at midnight
in the back room at Sugarfoot's.

And I am going

to stand up and fight

and be respected
just like you said.

Luanne,
the kind of women that box

don't have 50 stuffed animals
on their bed.

Hey, why don't you
spend Friday night

watching one of those movies
you like

where the people fall in love,
and then one of them dies?

Oh, Luanne, you
have to understand

your uncle only wants
the best for you.

That said, everything
he just told you:
Complete jackassery.

Dear Lord, one of your creatures
may be hurt tonight.

Please let it be
the other creature.

Amen.

Yeah, yeah, yeah,
okay, Luanne, looking good.

Yeah, now, just remember,

the key to boxing
is to jump up and down.

Yeah, keep bouncing.

Bounce and weave.

Okay, folks

you paid your moneys.

Here come the honeys.

The Beauty and the Beast.

Whoa-whoa-whoa.

Watch the kicks,
or I'll disqualify you

and you'll lose
your free rib dinner.

Tell Joseph and Dale if
he's listening good night

and get to bed.

I got a live feed with
the hostess at Sugarfoot's.

She's got Luanne's fight
on the speakerphone.

Oh, God, she went
through with it?

Luanne, no!

One, two, three, four...

She's out.

Whoa.

I did it!

I won, I won, I won!

You tagged her good.

What a left hook.

Oh, yeah.

You didn't think
I could do it

but I did it.

Great job, Luanne.

You want to fight
some more for us?

I got a contract
right here.

It's very fair.

(sighing)

Oh, my gosh.

Did you hear that,
Uncle Hank?

They want me to be a
professional fighter.

Ooh! I'm a
professional fighter!

(squealing)

(laughing)

Mmm, women boxing, huh?

If they wear gloves

how do they scratch
each other?

No, Bill, they
punch pretty hard.

And Luanne was
really something.

I tell you what.

Dale fights more
like a girl than
she did last night.

So I bit a cashier.

I'm a street fighter.

(sighing)

Luanne, I always hoped

to give my old boxing gloves
from the "Y" to Bobby

but, uh, well

you know.

Anyway, I'd be honored

if you'd wear these
in your next match.

Oh

Uncle Hank.

Every time
I punch someone in the face

I'll think of you.

To Luanne!

Getting rich
off a pretty lady's

even better
than sleeping with one.

Well, neck and neck.

Well, lookee here.

Now, I know
it must have killed you

to throw that fight,
Big gun

but it was one hell
of a convincing dive.

If you had any looks

you could be
a Hollywood actress.

(deep voice):
Thank you.

Here's your flop fee.

Don't touch anything
on the way out, huh?

Times have changed.

Trained boxers
willing to take a dive

are too
got dang expensive.

Hey, Bora, you'd take a punch
for $100, wouldn't you?

No, sir.

Two hundred?

Yes, sir, I would.

Okay, Luanne

Buck says this Bora
the Slammin' Slavic
is nine and four

and she used to pull
a dogsled back in
her native Croatia.

When my fans are out there
respecting me

I feel like a strong, powerful,
ooh, independent woman.

Luanne

I brought you some tassels.

Tassels?

Yeah, it's a fight game,
boy scout.

We need a little show
for the people.

Oh, I get it.

A little flash.

Like Hector "Macho" Camacho.

Light on your
feet, Luanne.

She's one
of them Russian brawlers.

(cheering)

STRICKLAND:
Yeah, yeah, good,
Luanne, good.

Now, hop like a bunny,
hop like a bunny!

Oh, uh, well, you
know, like, uh,
Muhammed Ali says,

"Hop like a bunny,
sting like a bee."

Uh, that was "Float
like a butterfly," sir.

Okay, now, Luanne...

southpaw, southpaw!

(groaning)

Now, Luanne

you beat some
tough fighters

and I think you're ready
for a step up in competition.

Yeah! You know,
I was reading

in the Guinness Book
of World Records

about a woman
who is 7'7".

You think she'll fight me?

Uh, maybe,
but I was thinking

about the best female fighter
in Texas...

George Foreman's daughter,
Freeda Foreman.

Seems she's managed
by her father

and four brothers
named George.

Uh, uh, I already called
the Foreman camp.

They told me they want nothing
to do with Luanne.

Yup, they are ducking us.

But don’t worry.

We'll line up
another topnotch opponent.

Has the pretzel lady
gotten back to us yet?

I'm sorry I'm late.

I couldn’t get used
to the heels.

What is that?

It's my outfit
for my next match.

Mr. Strickland says
that if I ever want
to fight Freeda Foreman

I need an image.

So... ♪ ta-da! ♪

I'm a fighting
French maid.

(giggles)
(sighing)

Dang it, I thought
I made myself clear

when I told him
no boxing thong.

I'm going to
go talk to Buck.

You need to practice

so, get out
of that stupid outfit.

And for God's sake,

don't leave it
where Bobby can find it.

Luanne, if you want to be
punched by Freeda Foreman

then Peggy Hill is the one
that can make it happen.

Come on, let's
go pick a fight.

It’s just that Luanne and I
are trying to build

a legitimate
boxing career.

BORA:
Oh, Mr. Buck.

Uh, yeah, I got you, Hank.

No skimpy costumes,
no dressing her like a rabbit.

Thanks for coming by.

Sir, Mr. Randy
is throwing up again.

Uh-huh, uh-huh.

Thanks, uh, Penelope.

Wait a minute.

You're supposed to be
The Slamming Slavic.

But you're just Buck's maid.

Buck's maid?

All right, all right,

you caught me
with my pants down.

I threw patsies in there

to protect your
pretty little niece.

Oh, God, you mean every fight
has been a fraud?

What about Helga the Hammer?

Librarian.
Never been in the ring.

Okay, Luanne, now
you have to trash-talk
and embarrass her.

It's the only way
she'll accept a
fight with you.

You ready?

Uh-huh.

Hey, Freeda Foreman!

Everybody knows
you're nothing

but a fraidy cat.

Wow, you have pretty eyes.

Who the heck are you?

Luanne Platter.

It's nice to meet you.

Yeah, whatever.

Hey! Yeah, you, you
big can of beans!

You give Luanne
here a match!

Unless you're
scared, huh?

Are you scared?

Yeah, you're not a champ.

You're a chump!

Chump, chump,
chumpity-chump!

Shut up, Grandma-hair.

Freeda! Oh, Freeda!

♪ Free-hee-hee-da! ♪

All right, you want to fight?

You got a fight.

And when I get done
whippin' up on her

I'm going
to come looking for you.

What'd I do?

(sighs)

Uncle Hank! Uncle Hank!

You'll never believe it!

We got a fight
with Freeda Foreman!

What? No.

I know, it's amazing,
isn't it?

Now, we better train.

She's much
bigger than me.

I think she's even
bigger than you.

Well, we cannot tell her
that her fights are fixed.

It would wreck her world.

Well, maybe she'll
get food poisoning.

You gave it to me
that one time.

You could do it again.

Excuse me for making
chicken tartar.

I could marry
Freeda Foreman

and refuse
to let her fight.

May I tell you what?

Talking about that dang ole
oldest champ in the world

two times wearing
that ole crown, man,

but talking about
that ole grease,

talking about on five
pounds since I got

on that lost
ole thing, man.

You're right.

George Foreman's a minister

and a family man.

He'll listen to reason.

Boomhauer does it again.

So if you like your food

lean, mean and tasty,

don’t forget to pick up one
on your way out.

Mr. Foreman, sir,
I know you don't know me,

but I'd like
a minute of your time.

You want a grill.

Uh, no, sir, I'm
pretty well set for grills.

I sell them
for a living

along with propane
and propane accessories.

Good man. What can I do for you?

Well, my niece, Luanne,

challenged your daughter
to a boxing match

and she's not even
in Freeda's league

but I haven't been able
to bring myself

to tell her that,
so I was thinking

if you guys
can drop out of the fight

Luanne won't get
her feelings hurt...

or her face hurt,
for that matter.

I respect that you want
to protect your niece.

You know, I didn’t want my
daughter to become a boxer.

Neither did Muhammad, but
Joe Frazier, on the other hand,

he had his baby girl
boxing in the crib.

So you'll cancel
the fight, Champ?

You got it.

Thank you. You're acting

just like I'd expect
a gold medalist to.

Hey,

maybe there's something
you can do for me.

How'd you feel about carrying
my grill in your shop?

Oh, uh, sorry, we have
a strict policy about that...

"No novelty grills."

Novelty grill!

Yeah. You know,
no offense, but...

your grill is kinda
like an iron.

You're calling
my grill an iron?!

I've been hit below the belt
before, but nothing like this.

I think it's a great product

for dieters or little girls
who want to play barbecue

but you can't compare it
to a propane-powered grill.

Fight's on!

What? No.

I said fight's on.

What's the matter?

Smelling all that propane
caused you brain damage?

That's what it
does, you know.

No. That is not accurate.

Those studies were all
done on sick monkeys

and at least my grill
isn't sold in Housewares.

Let it go, Daddy.

He ain’t worth it.

You're right. George Three,
get this man out of my face.

I'm sorry I'm late.

I ran farther
than I ever have before

so look out, Freeda Foreman.

Uh... Luanne, those fights
you had were fixed.

The fighters were fixed?
Like my puppy?

No, you see, Buck knew
that men would pay

to see you dance
around the ring

so he found a bunch
of cleaning ladies

for you to fight and knock out.

But I'm a great boxer.

That's why the fans are always
yelling and hollering

and... throwing... dollar bills

and... oh, God, am I stupid.

So, uh, you can't fight Freeda.

She's a real athlete.

She'll kill you.

You could take a dive,
like Bora and the others.

Then you'd still get paid, at
least 'cause you showed up.

No. That's cheating

and I got too much
self-respect for that,

even if every guy in the world
thinks I'm a bimbo.

Guys suck.

I didn't see you
in Tae Bo today.

Oh, that's probably
because I wasn't there.

I don't like Tae Bo anymore.

It reminds me
that I'm not really a boxer.

Oh, I wish I could quit.

But if I don't go,
my modeling agent yells at me.

He's also my husband.

Hey, I can hook
you up with him if
you're interested.

But just look out because
he gets a little grabby.

No, I want my next job
to be something

that men will respect me for.

Men are never going
to respect us.

That's why we've got to use
what God... or the surgeon...

gave us to get what
they got... money.

So you'd do anything
for money?

Or a car.

So, if you were me,
would you take a dive

against Freeda Foreman
for $1,500?

Or a car.

All right, now,
raise your hand.

Which one of you fellows
is the bachelor?

Hey, hey,
Luanne with you?

She is not going
to show tonight.

She asked herself,

"What would Jesus do
if He were a lady boxer?"

The answer: Not show.

Now... Oh, oh, there she is.

Luanne?

Okay, I'm ready to
take my dive now.

You promise the check
will clear, right?

Yeah, eventually.

Now, don't get hit.

You're fighting my aunt
next week.

Oh, and those gentlemen
over there

are here for a
bachelor party.

Now, come on, give them
a big ol' bouncy "hello."

So you can see,
my grill is perfect

for a big man
like yourself.

I've told you six times,
I'm not interested.

(bell dings)

(crowd cheering)

(whistles)

Bounce, baby!
Whoo-hee!

(whistles)

(wolf whistle)

One!

Two!
Hey, I got
some singles!

Three! Four!
Oh, I cannot watch this.

MAN 1:
Say my name!

Say my name!

It's Bradley!

Spank yourself!
(laughs)

Eight!

Nine!

(cheering)

What are you doing?

Stay down!
Stay down!

Oh, my God, she's
going to get killed!

Oh, what the heck
is she doing?

We're taking her picture
for the calendar this week.

If I could take
a punch like that,

I may have been able
to think of a name
besides "George"

for all my sons.

That gal's all skull
and no brains.

She's like Joe Frazier
with lipstick.

(cheering)

Way to go, Luanne.

Luanne, southpaw!
Southpaw!

Whoo-hoo!
Whoo-whoo!

Luanne! Luanne!

Oh, yeah!
That's the Platter in her!

Man, she is tough.

Stick and move.

Use your left.

Don't give up, Luanne!

You can do it!

(cheering)

Stu, what did I tell you
about taking pictures of me?

Whoa, whoa.

No, I wanted
a picture with you.

I saw your fight.

You lasted three rounds
with Freeda Foreman.

You are one tough chick.

(sighs)

Thank you.

That's all I ever wanted
to hear.

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