King of the Hill (1997–2010): Season 7, Episode 13 - Queasy Rider - full transcript

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Hey, Boomhauer.

How was Houston?

Do anything, uh, interesting?

Nah, you know, man,
stuff, you know.

Usual ol' meetings,
you know, and stuff

with conferences,
stuff like, you
know, uh, dang ol'...

Liar!

Show him, Hank.

An official Houston
Texans bobblehead.



If you're
going to sneak

around behind
the Dallas Cowboys' backs

you better not ask a Cowboy fan
to get your mail.

You went to their training camp,
didn't you?

You make me sick.

Dang it,
Boomhauer

just because the Cowboys

have a bad season or two,
or five,

doesn't give you the right
to abandon them, right, guys?

Although I guess

if we root for the Texans,
it doesn't mean

we'd have to stop rooting
for the Cowboys.

Well, they are
in different conferences

so it would only be a problem



if they played
in the Super Bowl.

An all-Texas Super Bowl.

His will be done.

Peggy, where's that list
of ATMs in Houston?

Me and the guys
are going to watch

the Texans training camp
this weekend.

This weekend?

Hank, we have
reservations

at That's Amore
Saturday night.

I-I told you
about this.

I booked the table
in the kitchen.

The chef's table?

You got in?!

Oh, yeah, I sort of remember
you mentioning that.

Hank, it took me two months
to get that table.

I promoted an illiterate student
to the ninth grade

just because his father
delivers meat to That's Amore.

Sure, let's have dinner
in a restaurant's kitchen.

Maybe we can have dessert
in the restroom.

All right, Hank,
you are not understanding me.

When I make plans,
I check with you first,

but you... you
just go off

and make whatever plans you want
without even consulting me.

Fine, I'll consult you
on everything.

Peggy, I'm going
to go get a glass of water.

Oh, wait, Peggy, I'm walking
to the refrigerator first.

Oh! Maybe
I should just take Bobby.

(delighted squeal)

Bobby,
I'm not taking you.

I was just trying
to get back at your father.

Oh.

Uh, Peggy, I've
been thinking

about what you
were saying

and I realized you were
right to be mad at me,

and I want to
make it up to you,

so, uh...

♪ Ta-da. ♪

Guess who's coming to Houston
with us?

And don't worry, I cleared it
with the guys.

You're riding shotgun,

and we don't have to share
a room with Bill.

Oh, so, you've decided

I am going to Houston
this weekend,

and what team I'm going
to root for.

Have you written a cheer
for me too, Hank?

Uh... n-no.

I cannot
believe you.

I am not
one of your propane tanks

you can just
order around

who will obey
your every whim.

Bobby,
it's your lucky day.

Your father
has a new shirt for you.

Really?

No.

Peggy won't let me
go to Houston.

Are you two having problems?

Irreconcilable
differences, maybe?

As the only

happily married
man out here

may I suggest
marriage counseling
with Dr. Tim Rast?

"Tim Rast will make
your marriage last."

I came up with that slogan
during one of our sessions

while Nancy was jabbering
about something.

You're going
to couples therapy?

Dang it, Dale,
how could you?

Oh, he's great, Hank...
a real man's man.

No matter what,
he always takes my side.

He knows who signs
Nancy's name on his checks.

Huh. So, all I have to do
is show up

and he'll tell Peggy
I'm right and she's wrong?

Y'uh-huh.

Even when I say something
I know is crazy, he nods.

Huh. Well, I guess
as long as he’s just there

to tell Peggy she's wrong,
I can't see the harm.

Uh, Peggy, I don't really know
how to say this,

and yet there's no greeting card
for it, either.

What?

Well, uh, I think we should see

a professional...
r-relationship person.

(audible spitting)

What? You mean
a marriage counselor?

Like the one
Dale and Nancy use.

Dr. Tim Rast.

Yes, him.

Please, Peggy.

I just need
somewhere safe to go and, uh

let it all hang out.

Oh, Hank, don’t worry,
I'll handle everything.

I'll call tomorrow to
make an appointment.

I already did...
Friday at 4:30.

Huh. So, you made
an appointment

without consulting me.

Well, at least we know

the first thing
we'll discuss.

Even his elbows

are nicotine stained,
he refuses to acknowledge

he's bald,

and he sobs uncontrollably
after sex.

Well, crying
can be a healthy release.

Thank you, Doctor.

Say, it's
that time again.

But before you go,

I want to draw something
for y'all to take home.

This here's
a treasure map.

Ah...

Every time
you catch yourself thinking

the key to happiness
is out there somewhere, Nancy,

I want you
to look at this map,

because it'll lead you
to a treasure

that will bring the both of you

untold riches
for the rest of your lives.

Gimme!

G'i!

Dr. Rast
really is very good.

Now, I have solved the family's
emotional crises up to now,

so, I hope you do not mind
if I take my own notes.

Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm-hmm.

So, here's
the deal, Coach.

She wants to go
to a restaurant

and eat in
the kitchen.

I know, I don't
get it, either.

And I want to go
see the Texans train.

I look forward
to your ruling.

This is not
just about going

to see the Texans.

It is about the Chinese
cooking class we never took,

the matching outfits
we never wore.

Do you realize
we have no scented soaps

anywhere in the house?

Hank is always acting
like the boss.

He won't even let me pay
the phone bill

because he doesn't like
the way I make sevens.

Hank, I want you
to go see the Texans,

and forget
all about Peggy.

See? Sounds pretty dang selfish
when you hear it out loud.

Okay,
let's do Magic Wand.

What's going on here?

It's a relationship game, Hank.

I got it
from Goldie Hawn's life coach

at a conference in Reno.

Oh, God, I've been misinformed.

I need to get
out of here.

Sit down, Hank.
This was your idea.

I think
you'll like

Magic Wand, Hank.

Let's play.

Now, you have
a magic wand.

What's one thing

you would like to change
about your partner?

(sighing)

Well, call me crazy, but
I wouldn't change anything.

Well, that's
not the right answer.

Give me the wand;
I'll do it right.

Sounds like you two
have an issue with control.

What I like to do is something
I call Time Machine Therapy,

or T.M.T.

(sighing)

I am going to kill Dale.

What I want you two to do

is picture yourselves
in the future.

You two are retired,
no work, no kids.

Quick, where
do you picture yourself?

We already have
that figured out.

We're going to buy his
and hers motorcycles

and see America,
excluding California.

Mm-hmm.
Tell me more.

What more is there?

Freedom of the open road,
and such.

All the maintenance
a guy could ask for.

PEGGY:
Collecting spoons
from every state capitol.

Meeting colorful characters

like truck stop waitresses
and corrupt local sheriffs.

We have set up a direct deposit
savings account,

and are just over halfway
to our goal.

More if our son Bobby
doesn’t go to college.

I'm going to write you two
a prescription

I think is going

to help you
with your problem.

Uh, Doctor,

if you'll check
your notes,

we only have half
the money saved.

Mm-hmm. Here it is
right here.

But half the money will still
buy you one motorcycle,

and that would give you
something to share together

as equal partners.

'Course, if you don’t want
a motorcycle,

there's other things
you could spend that money on.

Like more counseling.

Is that us?

It is now.

Hit it, Daddy!

(engine revving)

I can't believe
you guys bought a motorcycle.

Evel Knievel had a Harley
and a cape

and a jeweled walking stick.

It was a cane, and it was
because he had a crushed pelvis.

And a cape.

Mmm. I'm having trouble
making this out

through my own spit.

What kind of idiot
uses 'delible ink

to draw a treasure map?

This looks about right.

Start digging, Bill.

Can I take the
blindfold off?

I don’t want any
of your treasure.

I just enjoy the time
we spend together.

Me, too.

That's why
I didn't gag you.

No, Bill.

I promise
I'll wipe my head first.

No.

We ride in five, Big H.

I just have to leather up.

Boy, we made the right move,
I tell you what.

We didn't need therapy.

We needed a motorcycle.

Whenever we go
to the hardware store

she gets to give me
a 20-minute hug,

and I get to go
to the hardware store.

God, that shorty helmet
looks hot on you.

Hmm, well,
I'll keep it on.

Kiss me as hard
as you want.

Your stuff's cleared up, right?

Mm-mmm...
Mmm...

Wow, look
at those two, Hank.

Real bikers.

We're going to need some
real biker accessories

if we're going to fit
in with this crowd.

Check out this wallet.

That's so it doesn't

fall out
of your pants

during a rumble.

Could you add this
to our wedding registry?

I can't remember if it's under
my name, Pepperoni Sue,

or the groom's... Lumpy.

Well, that explains
why you two

are acting like a couple
of about-to-be newlyweds.

Congratulations.

Thanks. You're only
off by ten years.

We're doing a
re-commitment ceremony.

First time
we got married

all I got was a pair
of assless pants

and a bottle
of tequila.

That bottle
and them pants

got us through five
states in three days.

Oh, what a honeymoon!

Yeah, this country of ours
looks pretty darn good

with your boots
up in the breeze.

You said it, brother.

And now,
me and the old lady

are fixing to head
up to South Dakota
for the nuptials.

Yup, Biker
Week in Sturgis,

just like the
first time around.

Yeah, tradition's
real important
to Lumpy and me.

That's why we're going
to spend our wedding night

under the same Foosball table

in the same bar
as last time.

Oh, hey, have you guys
ever been to Sturgis?

Ah, it's a party.

800,000 bikers,

and Robbie Knievel's
jumping 13 dump trucks

in the middle
of a Styx concert.

Yeah, it's a solid week

of free music,
dancing,

and pickle-
licking contests.

You should come.

Well, it does sound
like it offers

a lot of fun
couples activities.

We have been talking
about doing a longer ride.

Yeah! "Live to ride,
ride to live!"

Pepperoni Sue, give them
an invitation to our reception.

If you feel like
getting us something

we're also registered
at the liquor store.

HANK:
Hmm...

Well, dude,
if we're going

to be riding to Sturgis,
we will need some sunblock.

I'm off to the store.

Good thinking,
Motorcycle Mama.

(engine roaring)

"Live to ride and ride to live,"
you dumb cows!

Hank, I may never sleep again.

Driving this Harley was amazing!

If I have bugs in my teeth,

it is because
I could not stop smiling.

I should probably floss.

I'd ask you
to start it up,

but it'd wake
up Bobby.

Ah, who cares?

He gets enough sleep.

(engine roaring)

(gasps)

Move! It's mine!

(gasps)

(gasps)

What is it?

A mummified
house cat.

It must have
belonged to
the pharaoh.

Hmm.

"Mr. Boots."

But... that was your cat, Dale.

Impossible.

Mr. Boots was white and fluffy,
and feisty and fun-loving.

This is just a skeleton.

Wait a minute.

Nancy told me that he ran away.

Oh.

Potato, potato,
potato, potato.

Potato, potato
potato, potato.

BOTH:
Potato, potato,
potato, potato...

(quickly):
Potato, potato, potato...

(laughs)

Oh.

(laughs)

Now, you have a good time

at your Grandpa Cotton's
while we're gone.

Fine.

But I'm not
taking a bath

with that
baby again.

It's humiliating.

Okay, everyone,
step away from the vehicle

so I can execute
a farewell donut.

Oh, quit dragging it out.

Just, go. Go!

NANCY:
Ride that hog, girl.

DALE:
Bye. Get me a shot glass.

(cheering)

Oh, you've been driving
all morning, Hank.

Why don't you take a break?

I can take over
for a while.

Thanks, but I'm okay.

Maybe next stop.

Okay, Hank, Kansas is mine.

I'm going
to tear this state a new one.

Yeah, uh, maybe we ought
to switch off after Kansas.

I wouldn’t want you to miss out

on all that wheat.

No.

I'm still feeling
surprisingly fresh.

Thanks, though.

You know we're
almost there.

Why mess with success.

Smile!

Come on,
Peggy, smile.

I am sick
of you bossing me around.

Let me drive,
then I will smile.

Well, I explained
to you in Nebraska.

It would throw our
weight distribution
all out of whack.

Maybe the coroner could
take a photo of us

after we bounced
off the asphalt

like a couple
of rag dolls.

Hank, that's bunk.

I am driving.

Uh...

okay, but, see, Peggy,
the thing of it is,

it just doesn’t work that
way with biker couples.

Lumpy and Pepperoni Sue
have a great relationship,

and she never
rides up front.

In fact, the spot

behind the driver
is called the...

(sighs)

The..."bitch" seat.

What?!

So, that makes me your...

No, no. No!

It's a motorcycle term.

I don't even think
it's spelled the same.

Forget I brought it up.

My God!

Maybe we should have
taken the therapy.

Hey, let's stop
at a souvenir stand

so I can get a T-shirt
that says

"My husband controlled
my vacation,

and all I got
was this lousy T-shirt."

That would be a nice picture
to show Dr. Rast, huh?

Well, maybe we should
get a motorcycle

with a seat big enough
for three people.

Then Dr. Rast
could ride along

and analyze our marriage.

Good idea.

Now, hold on.

We're going.

We are not going anywhere.

Oh, yes, we are.

MAN:
Yahoo!

Show us what
you got, girls!

Oh!

Oh.

That's right, Hank.

Get a good look.

Because at the rate
you're going,

you will not be seeing mine
anytime soon.

Nice to see
that you've gotten vulgar

as well as selfish.

Peggy, release
the brake lever.

Nuh-uh.

This brake lever's on my side,

and I will hold it down
as long as I want.

Fine. We'll just
park the bike here.

It doesn't bother me.

I can watch the
motorized bar stool races.

You know what?

I am going
to the Greyhound station

to buy myself a ticket
to Arlen.

I'm sure the will let me sit

anywhere I want
on the bus.

You can't sit
in the bus driver's seat.

You can't even talk to him.

Ho-yeah!

Baah!

Oh, will you quit

your whining, you old woman?

I'm wearing a bra.

Barstool coming through!

Ugh.

Uh, oops.

Oh, excuse me, officer.

RAST:
But before you go,

this map will lead you
to a treasure that'll...

Ha!

I'm rich.

And you,

stop playing
the blame game.

Ha-ha!

Are these fixable?
No.

PEPPERONI SUE:
How do you tell
what size you are

in a nipple ring?

Pepperoni Sue?

Huh?

Who's asking?

Oh, it's that old biker dude
with the crazy girlfriend.

Oh, yeah, yeah.

Sorry I almost
messed you up, man.

Wedding day jitters.

Look at the kick-ass skull ring
Lumpy's getting me.

Huh, a smiley one.

(chuckles)

Yeah, 'cause I know
how to make him smile.

Mmm.

Whoo-hoo!

(man kissing loudly)

SUE:
Oh, man, that's
good barbecue.

So, how are you and your old
lady digging Biker Week?

Uh, Peggy and I aren't speaking
right now.

She's upset because I wouldn't
let her drive us.

Hell, I'd rather
get shanked

than let my
old lady drive.

And I'd never ask.

That's why our marriage works.

Boundaries.

Yeah. Who knows
her place?

I do, baby.
Who knows her
place, huh?

I do, baby.
Who knows
her place?

I do, baby.

Who knows
her place, huh?

You okay?

You look
like you licked a bad pickle.

Pepperoni, show
him your girls.

Okay, but they're a little
chapped from the ride.

Uh, that's okay. Thanks.

Where are your
glasses, Hank?

Oh, did you decide
it's effeminate

for a man to wear them?

If so, I refer you
to Mr. Larry Hagman.

A barstool ran into me
and broke my glasses.

So, just take the bike,
and I'll take the bus.

Hank, this is crazy.

Now, get on.

I will drive.

But that would mean
I have to ride on the...

other part of the seat.

You know, behind.

Oh, stop acting like a baby
and get on.

I am not a baby.

(shouting over engine):
Are your arms getting stiff
up there?

A little.

I suppose maybe

I could put 'em down
here a little while.

Dead snake!

Nice evasive
maneuver, Peggy.

Hank, there's a moose
drinking from that lake.

There's a moose?

And a lake?

How big are
the antlers?

Oh, my goodness, they're huge.

Don't worry.
I'll get us closer.

Hey, I see it.

I see it.
It's beautiful.

Yes, it is, Hank.

I love you, Peggy!

Sandwich?

I think there's one left
in that saddlebag.

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