King of the Hill (1997–2010): Season 7, Episode 8 - Full Metal Dust Jacket - full transcript

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Today we'll be discussing
A Tale of Two Cities

a terrific book

by that most Dickensian
of authors, Charles Dickens.

Okay, you've all read it.

Come on, let's get
a dialogue going.

Um, I really liked
the guillotine.

Yes, yes.

Um, why don't they have
the guillotine here?

Well, I don't know,
but the theme...



BOY 2:
Did anyone ever
try to pull

their head out of the guillotine
at the last minute

so, like, just the top
of their head got chopped off?

Okay, are there any questions
not involving the guillotine?

Anyone?

Anything?

So that's it?

What about class differences?

What about romantic love?

Sacrifice and regret?

Everything in life is between
the covers of this book, people.

You went crazy.

(bell ringing)

My husband likes his stories.



WOMAN 2:
People say he was

a poor man's Hemingway

but I think Hemingway
was a poor man's Hemingway.

(chuckling)

"Poor man's Hemingway."

Uh, can I help you
find something?

Well, yes.

I am looking to replace
my well-worn

and fully understood copy
of A Tale of Two Cities

by Charles...
Dickens.

Of course. It's in Classics
to your left.

Anyway, I hope
tonight's discussion

will be as spirited
as the last one.

You bring the opinions,
I'll bring the Merlot

and I'm sure
it will be.

Merlot?
Well, excuse me.

You must be talking
about a book club.

We are.

A bientot.

Pardon
my French.

Oh, es de nada.

And my Spanish
needs no apologies.

You know, as one intellectual
to another.

I must say

your book club
sounds fun.

And I do happen
to be free tonight.

You're not free.

You have a date
with Dickens.

That'll be $5.95.

Yup.

Yup.

Oh, mind
if I join you?

I'm kind of in the mood

for some stimulating
conversation.

You've come
to the right place.

Now, Bill, you were opining
on a matter of some import.

Oh, yeah.

Why is it I like butter
but I don't like cheese?

They're both yellow.

Is it the texture?

You do too
like cheese, Bill.

I've seen you eat it.

No, I don't.

Remember A Tale
of Two Cities?

Dickens?

Well, I'm in the middle
of rereading it and it...

Peggy, you've
seen Bill eat cheese.

Why won't you
take my word for this?

Cream cheese
is cheese, Bill.

No, it's not.
It's butter.

(sighs)

And if I'm
in your book club

I can assure you

you'll never have
to worry about

long awkward pauses.

Well, what do you think?

If it were up to me,
I'd... think about it.

But they only invite me

because I give them
a discount on their books.

And I'm closing the store
soon to retire anyway.

My lease is up.

Retiring?

Everybody keeps saying,
"Leave Arlen?"

But I've always
wanted to spend

my later years someplace
where it's nice and cold

all year round.

HANK:
$600 a month for five years?

I don't know.

Hank, I really need

to be around people
who love books.

I will do all the work
all you have to do is cosign

as you are the one
with an income

and the house
is in your name.

Oh, please, Hank.

I will be raking in
money with one hand

and reading my book for
the book club with the other.

Oh, Hank!

LAURA:
My sacred mission

to bring literature
to Arlen is now yours.

Oh, wait, wait.

One last thing.

When do I start
to attend the book club?

Oh, well, the next meeting
isn't for a couple of weeks.

I'm sure they'll stop by.

The best of luck
to you, dear.

Okay, this is it.

Show time.

Show time.

(bell ringing)

HANK:
Hello there, ma'am.

We're here to support our local
bookseller and buy some books.

Well, thank you,
handsome patron.

Bobby, why don't you go look
in the adventure section.

Anything about a boy with
gumption should be fine.

"Clea,
Huntress of Dragonvale.

Part the Fifth of
the Elves of Evermore Series."

Huh.

MAN:
You're listening to Peru Today

on listener supported
public radio.

(incomprehensible rapping)

So, how's the...

Fantastic.

Best decision I ever
made in my life.

Good night, Hank.

(bell ringing)

Oh, Dale.

So this
is a book store.

Smells boring.

Mm, have you thought about
putting saw dust on the floor?

I'm getting apple
everywhere.

I'm sorry, Dale

but this store is reserved
for customers and literati.

So, why don't you
take your apple...

It's a Braeburn.

...and get out?

Okay. Wait.

I am a customer.

I'd like your
thickest book, please.

(humming)

Here's The Odsse.

It's thick, it's old,
it's Greek.

This looks promising.

Nih, nih, nih.

What the hell
are you doing?

I can't hide
a gun inside it

without
hollowing it out.

Unless you have
some precuts?

(bell ringing)

Pardon me, ma'am
but can you

give me four quarters
for a dollar?

No, I'm sorry. I have a sign.

Hey, how much
for the 1911-A-1?

This baby is yours
for, oh...

300 dollars American.

Sold.

Dale, you cannot sell
a firearm in my bookstore.

I know, I know.

You want your house cut.

20% to the madame.

Madame, $60.00.

In theory,
I reject this money.

It is only in practice
that I accept it.

You know, this is a perfect
gun selling location.

So, how 'bout it,
Peggy?

Can I sell guns
in this location?

I've got literally
oodles of guns at home...

Thank you for shopping
at Peggy's World of Books.

Oh, thank you so much
for eating my free cookies.

Hello, I just
came by to see...

Laura, thank goodness
you're here.

I have only made one sale
in the past three days

and that was just
a greeting card.

Peggy, this has never been
a high-volume business.

But the lease,
I mean, how did you...

Oh, the executor
of my parents' estate

sent a check every month

interest from
some such account.

I never quite
followed it.

But you shouldn't

concern yourself
with that.

We worship the written word,
not the almighty dollar, yes?

Oh, well, yes, of course.

And worse comes to worst

you just get your husband
to write a check, right?

I'm taking
one of the Joyces.

(bell ringing)

Good morning.

Word to the wise,
we have

a new collection of
Barbara Kingsolver's stories

that is her best in years.

Guns, I suppose.

Yes, ma'am.

Straight in back.

You know, we have
a book called Old Yeller.

It's about a boy
who shoots a dog.

With a gun.

Welcome, gentlemen.

The Tuesday special
is Saturday Night specials.

Feel free to browse.

Uh, here at the Book and Gun

we're trying to maintain
a certain...

What do you call it,
Peggy?!

Ambiance.

Right. Ambiance.

So we're having
cappuccino.

That's like coffee, right?

I don't know.

Oh, and if some well-dressed
ladies come in

you’re just here
to move a piano.

What you reading there, son?

Sports page.

The sports page.

Well, all right, Bobby.

How's the Cowboy's defense...

You know, same ol', same ol'.

Ooh!

Clea, Huntress of...

I told you to get
an adventure book.

But it is adventure.

"The Elf-Lord Fylfendell knelt
upon the bed of dandelions.

"'Young wanderer,'
quoth he, 'I have woven you

a magic breastplate..."'

(groans)

Bobby, television.

MAN:
Uh...

I'm going
to go with, uh...

gun.

Gih!

Morning, officer.

OFFICER:
Do you have a license
to sell guns, sir?

What I sell is a lifestyle.

A life style free from...

Books!

We sell
books here.

The guns are simply
a promotional give-away.

Yeah.

Okay, as long as everybody
leaves this store with a book.

Let me show you the stylish
nine millimeter Luger

that comes free with any

$600 purchase of quality
science-fiction.

Dale, Glock.

Oh, I been looking
for this little girl.

(gunshot)
(gasping)

Sometimes the boys like
to go down in the basement

and test their piece.

But don’t worry,
I shut off the gas valve.

Well, shot off
the gas valve.

Oh, my God...

it's the freakin' book club!

You get your skinny butt
down to the basement

and pass out the silencers.

Peggy, hello.

It certainly is an...

interesting
atmosphere

you've cultivated.

So, the sign says
you're selling guns now?

Oh, the sign.

That old thing.

You know, the "T" fell off.

It's really
supposed to say "gunst."

Surely you didn't
come here today

for, for gunst.

Enjoy. Good reading.

Yes, well,
these good people are here

from a historical
reenactment club.

Today we are doing "America
in the Time of Whitman."

(gunshots)

What was that?

Merely the anvil
of the village smithy.

Making horseshoes, no doubt.

(rapid-fire gunshots)

Yes, well, we've come to
place our monthly order

for the book club selection
A Dinner of Onions, by...

Nora Harmony Wallace, of course.

A chronicle of three generations
of an American family.

I always wondered why nobody's
ever done that before.

Uh, do you have any peroxide
and a clean towel?

I just shot my dang hand.

Oh, well, oh, okay.

The, uh, Confederate doctors
will be here shortly

to give you ether
and saw off your arm.

Actors.

Say, why don't
you come to the
meeting yourself?

To the book club? Really?

And bring your
husband if you like.

The club is
mostly couples.

(bell tinkling)

Oh, yeah!

Ankle holsters all
around on the house!

(men whooping and hollering)

All right!

Hank, we are going
to the book club.

Read this by Friday.

You are excused

from emptying
the garbage

till this is done.

And no TV.

You won't let me read a book
that I want.

Mom makes you read a book
that you don’t want.

That's what the elves call

"Justice of
the Unicorn."

(heavy sigh)

Turns out the first two chapters
were a dream.

I'm not sure
I trust this lady.

And what do you make of this?

Every time she cooks dinner
for her father, she cries.

But it's not always onions.

Yeah, man, see, now,
my dang ol' father

he gon' symbolize
the past, man

and ol' dinnergon' be,
like, the future, you know?

So, you're talkin'
'bout stuck in the
present, you know?

Just like dang ol'
English class, man.

I had onions
for dinner last night.

You can get a pound
for 49 cents.

"As the ambulance pulled away

"Cassie remembered
the smell of onions

from her grandmother’s kitchen."

The End.

Joe Jack, you awake?

I got half a mind
to go to Nova Scotia

and kick that Benedict's ass,
honey.

Boy, that Cassie
reminds me of someone.

Hey, how big did you guys
picture her ta-tas?

It said she was slender as
a willow, so... grapefruits?

Come on, let's go.

If we stay in the
truck too long

people are going to
think we're making out.

All right, Kafka, Kafka...
born 1883, wore glasses

burdened by father,
loved to sleep in.

Yes! Peggy,
you are ready.

Now, if I tug my earlobe
like this

just casually say
that you understood

what the author
was going for, but...

Then just trail off
like that.

I told him,
"Mister, you may be on retainer

"but if you retain your hand
on my thigh like that

I will bite it off
and bill you for my time."

Mm-hmm.

That is exactly
like the scene at dinner

where Cassie confronts
the hotel manager, yes?

Honey, I couldn't get past
Chapter Three.

That writer
was trying way to hard

to be Isabel Allende
for my blood.

Great reference.

Isabel Allende,
Chilean authoress born 1942.

My source... the Internet.

So, you say it's both efficient
and clean burning?

Fascinating.

Oh, Hank,
there you are.

I was just wondering
if you men had noticed

the subtle change
of perspective
in Book Two

the way the
women have.

Book... Two.

Uh, fellas, this
is my wife, Peggy.

Delighted
to meet you.

Is... is your ear all right,
Mrs. Hill?

I, uh, understood what
the author was going for.

Uh... in the book, there.

(clearing throat)

So, Mary Ellen, we had
just a marvelous time.

I cannot wait to see
you at the next meeting.

I was going to
suggest we read

The Dust Gatherers
by Nobel laureate Mkozi Mputha.

Well, actually...

(clearing throat)

I'm afraid this
is the very last
book club meeting.

Scheduling nightmare,
you know.

The last meeting?

No, no!

We can't let
this die.

Why, I could
drive everyone.

Where does
everyone live?

I'm sorry, Peggy.

But I'm so glad
you were able to come

for the final, final,
last meeting.

(groaning)

I can't believe it.

What am I going to do
with my weekends now?

Except watch sports.

Oh, well. Peggy?

Hold on, Hank.

I need to use
their powder room.

Maybe it's the ten
cups of coffee I drank
to stay sharp for this.

I'll get the truck.

Oh... The New Yorker.

I guess it's my fault.

She gave us
such a big discount

I felt
I had to invite her.

Who knew she'd be
such a windbag?

As Cassie said

while the farmhouse
burned brightly behind her

"I am an onion."

Good day to you.

(yelling)

Surely as I am Clea

and the Crystal of Gilmarrion
shines upon my brow

our forces shall rally
and vanquish the Goblin horde.

What say ye, Hindbottom?

Aye, my fell axe thirsts
for Goblin blood

to avenge my father Borak

my swift brother
Rigmar Talon-beard, my cousin...

HANK:
Dang it, Bobby.

No more elves
at the table.

Your mom
isn't feeling well, and...

No, no, I'm fine.

(horn honking)

All right, Dale, I am coming!

(sighing)

Great... time for work.

No rest for the windbag.

Thank you.

Please come again.

Oh, I got that one
yesterday

with my last gun.

Oh, my God,
how many guns do you need?

Thank you, come again.

Peggy, would you
wipe the fingerprints off this

and wrap it, please?

I've come to take
the local bookseller to lunch.

Heh... uh, Peggy?

DALE:
Pull!

(gunshots)

What the hell?

Peggy?

(gunshots)

Dad.

Well, look who's here.

Shopping for my birthday?

Get me something
that shoots like this.

(gunshots)

Die!

Excellent grouping, Colonel.

Plus, those hollow-points
penetrated Shakespeare

all the way into
the so-called "Joyous Comedies."

As You Like Lt?

Well, I like it plenty.

Dang it, Dale,
where is my wife?

Mmm, probably
on one of her smoking breaks.

I try not to keep her
on too tight of a leash.

Peggy?

What are you
doing down there?

Nothing.

Seems to be my mission in life.

No, your mission
was about books...

elves and onions and such.

Look at this.

Now, I'm not much in the
Shakespeare department

but I still don’t think
he deserves to be shot at

by those monkeys down there.

And A Tale
of Two Cities?

I thought that was
your favorite book.

And so, a farewell to
A Farewell to Arms.

Dale, your services at
Peggy's World of Books

are terminated
as of now.

Get out.

You can't do that.

I can, and I will.

My name is the
name on the lease.

This is Peggy's World.

You just rent
space in it.

Here's the key to the Dumpster.

If you don't lock it,
the winos sleep in it.

They are not winos.

They are my customers,
loyal customers.

I'm looking for the lady
who ran the gun store.

She's out of business.

She's been referring
people to Ammo World

or Crazy Jerry's.

I just wanted to know
if the first two chapters

were really a dream or not.

Yeah, I wondered that myself.

Travis makes an excellent point.

Cassie's lighthouse
can symbolize hope

but who’s to say
it doesn't also symbolize

the government's intrusion

into the lives
of private citizens

as suggested by our friend here

who won't give us
his name.

Cassie's grandpa
wouldn’t give her
an evil lighthouse.

Very good point, Muskrat.

Any responses?

Well, can’t we
at least agree

that Mary-Elizabeth's baby
was her own lighthouse?

Whoever heard of an
illegitimate lighthouse?

Got-dang it, Ox,
you're confusing realism

with symbolism again.

MOUNTAIN MAN:
I'm about to symbolize
my gun to our head.

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What do you call it, Peggy?
Ambiance.