King of the Hill s13e15 Episode Script
KH-1308 - Serves Me Right For Giving General George S. Patton The Bathroom Key
I've identified two of your problems, Bill.
There's no oil in your oil pan, but lots of it in your windshield washer reservoir.
I don't know if we can save this engine.
Our best bet might be to take out the floorboards and make this a Flintstones car.
I'd say you should donate it to charity, but charity people have enough problems.
Dang it, Bill, you know this car deserves better.
Sorry, Hank.
Sorry, car.
Dale, you missed the trash can.
Meh.
Hank, you will never believe who is on our answering machine.
Didi.
Didi? What does she want? My dad's been dead over a year.
I was hoping she'd take that as the end of her step-mothering duties.
My guess is, with Cotton gone, Didi's probably lonely and desperate for a new man.
Prepare for war, Peggy.
Shut up, Dale.
I better go give it a listen.
Dale, you're gonna pick up that can, right? Maybe I'll pick it up, maybe I won't.
We call that suspense.
(over speaker): This is Didi Hill.
Cotton asked that I give you this.
See you soon.
"This"? What does she mean by "this"? We can't see through the dang phone.
This is bad, Hank.
Nothing involving your father ever turns out good.
You know what I've been wondering? Was Grandpa a good dancer? Because-- no offense-- There's no way I got my moves from either of you.
Well, I don't think your grandpa liked to dance, Bobby.
Dancing conveys a certain amount of joy that I don't think your grandfather condoned.
Okay, then, what did Grandpa like? Well, uh, he was a war hero.
He killed 50 men and, uh, well, you know, that's a lot of, uh a lot of men.
Hmm, there's got to be something else.
You must be very proud, Mr.
Hill.
Of course I am.
I killed 50 men.
I killed 50 men! I killed 50 men.
Hmm.
I don't think I know anything about my dad.
Well, other than his hatred of Tojos, Nazis and my mother.
Well, hatred was just about all there was to Cotton.
And no, no, just hatred.
Maybe it's normal not to know much about your father.
How much do you guys know about your dads? If anything, I know too much about my father.
It's all tucked away in the corners of my brain that alcohol can't reach.
I was able to piece together an interesting history of my father using mug shots and dental records.
My dad collects stamps.
His favorite color is dark blue.
Oh, and he loves paella, especially when it's made by his boyfriend, Stephano.
Well Didi's coming by tomorrow.
It might be my last chance to ask her some questions about him.
So, are you going to pick up that can, Dale? I have a to-do list a mile long, but when I get done with everything on that list uh, I can't lie to you, Bill.
I'm not going to do it.
(yawning) (squeals) (doorbell ringing) Open that door, Dale! What do you want? I want you to pick up the can! Why me? You're closer.
Geez.
I swear.
It's like you don't have any respect for me.
Of course I don't.
Look at you.
(grunts angrily) I'm tired of being ignored.
You're picking that can up right now! (grunts) Oh, here's something I've been curious about.
Did my dad ever use the ratchet set we got him for his birthday? The drop-forged one, not the heat-treated one we gave him for Christmas.
That's your seventh question about Cotton's tools.
I think you should try a new area.
You know, all this stuff about Grandpa got me worrying that maybe I don't know enough about you.
Like, when you were my age, did you practice kissing on your hand or your pillow? Yeah, uh that question being of a personal nature and such, it's kind of difficult to, uh BILL: Pick it up, pick it up, pick it up! Gribble and Dauterive really going at it.
The chain-smoking anorexic versus the heart attack waiting to happen.
Who will die first? Let's watch.
I don't know why you're so worried about that can, Bill.
If it's anything like your ex-wife, it'll come to its senses and walk away forever.
(gasps): You know what? I haven't liked you for years! Hold on, Bill.
Dale, the only reason lever hung out with you was because of Boomhauer and Hank.
- Oh, really? Then how come just last week you said you were my best friend? I pretended you were Hank when I said it! (gasps) Okay, that's enough, you two.
You're dead to me, Bill Dauterive! Good, I'd rather be dead than be your friend anyway! Boycott Dale Gribble! He is an exterminator of bugs and friendship! Do not let him into your house or your hearts! This fight seems to be getting serious.
Looks like I'm going to have to do something to end this.
I'm going to go grab a case of Alamo Gold and sit them down until this thing is figured out.
I think it's too late for that.
This has gone beyond a fight, and has officially become a "dude-vorce.
" A what? A "dude-vorce" is what happens when male friends break up.
Parade magazine did a whole half page on it.
It's true.
I heard that one in two male friendships now ends in "dude-vorce.
" It's so sad when dudes grow apart.
She's here! Didi's here! Hello, Hank.
Peggy.
Hello, Didi.
How have you been? Excellent.
I'm getting married to a wealthy professional wrestler.
Anyway, this box is for you.
Sorry, I'm so late getting it to you.
You have no idea how difficult it has been to grieve and fall madly in love at the same time.
Now I have to go.
Wait, wait! Are you sure you can't stick around? I have some things I wanted to ask you about my dad.
I'm sorry, Hank, but I had to clear Cotton out of my mind so I could make room for my new husband.
But, but I have a list! "Did my dad like Washington apples?" What's in it? I can't stand the waiting! Well, looks like some of my dad's medals, uniforms, some paperwork It's his personal belongings.
He must have wanted you to have these, Hank.
Maybe your dad did not hate you, after all.
Hey, a tape recorder.
COTTON (on tape): Hank, I know no parent ever wants their kids to outlive them, but if you're hearing this, I guess somehow you pulled it off.
Anyway, here's a box of my possessions and a list of my wishes.
As the executor of my estate, you gots to do everything I tells ya.
It won't be pretty and you're probably going to cry a little.
Just remember, I'll be watching.
And laughing.
That is all.
Oh, that man had some nerve! All you wanted was to know a little bit about him, and what do you get in return? His dirty work.
Oh, I'm sorry, Hank.
Why are you sorry? My dad has made me the executor of his will.
I'm finally going to learn something about him.
BOBBY: Wow! Look at all this shin jelly! And a gun! Oh, dear Lord.
Put that thing down! Let me see that list.
Oh, I see he left Dale, Bill and Boomhauer something.
And of course, I see nothing for you on this list, Hank-- typical.
That's not true.
My dad gave me the greatest gift: the trust and honor of handling his affairs.
Honor? Have you seen what he wants you to do, Hank? "Give the finger to the bouncer at Juggstore Cowboys.
" "Spit on the steps of the Japanese Embassy.
" The man is dead.
You do not have to do this.
Peggy, my dad entrusted me with his final wishes and I have to see it through for him.
I can't just throw the list away.
He's right.
This thing is like a treasure map of Grandpa.
Can I come with you when you "slap the butt of some brunette nurses at the V.
A.
"? No! No! (gasps) (whispers): Tell him I want my kiddie pool and my leaf blower.
Okay, uh, next issue.
Gribble wants the kiddie pool and his leaf blower back, as well as the alley on Saturdays.
No sale! We already gave you the Arlen High football tickets and the alley every other Sunday.
What the heck is going on here? Hank, when it comes to a breakup, there are no winners, only losers-- two losers.
Can you guys just put it on hold for a second? I have some stuff I have to give you from my dad.
Cotton brought that fork back from Germany.
I'm, uh, pretty sure he killed somebody with it.
(gasps): It's beautiful! I love getting gifts, Hank.
I'm pretty sure Dale doesn't know that though, since he hasn't gotten me anything for my birthday for the last 14 years.
That's right, I counted! What can you possibly give the man who has nothing? Look, I could really use both of your help with my dad's estate.
So just punch each other or grill a steak, and get this ridiculous fight over with.
Meat won't solve this, Hank.
Not this time.
So either pick a side or get lost.
Now, where were we? (whispering) Gribble's gonna need that fork.
No way! It'll go well with this knife.
Give him fork, Dauterive.
Well, thanks for offering to help me, Peggy, but I don't know if you should come in.
You've seen the list.
This might not be the place for a lady.
Hank, I'm looking on the bright side.
This list will let me relive Cotton's death over and over again.
Uh, thanks for meeting us, Madame Francine.
Uh, this is for you from my father.
So, you knew my father, apparently.
Uh, is there anything you can tell me about him? (French accent): Yes.
Of all his platoon mates, Cotton was the most curious and inventive lover.
(groans) Uh, excuse me.
Are you two the Cleery sisters? Yes, sir.
Uh, this is from Cotton Hill.
I'm very sorry.
(sighs) Oh, for heaven's sake.
(slapping) Oh! HANK: What an awful day.
You know, I'm really starting to wonder what the point of all this is.
Maybe the point was for Cotton to humiliate you one last time.
Well, all we have left to do is deliver this spat to someone named Fatty.
And then it's all finally over.
Thank God.
Yeah, I guess.
(knocking on door) Hi, uh, I'm looking for Fatty.
Fatty dead.
I'm his son, Little Fatty.
Who you? Well, I'm Cotton Hill's son, Hank.
My dad was in the service with your father.
He passed away last year, and he wanted your father to have this.
Oh, yeah.
Daddy Fatty told me about that.
I'll take it.
(grunts) (groans) What the hell was that for? Oh, Hank, I know you were looking to find out something about your father, but apparently it was just not meant to be.
(sighs) (door opens) This key opens a box at the bus station.
And sorry about the stomping.
That was Cotton's wish.
Well, here it is.
Box 1942.
Open it slowly, Hank.
It could be booby-trapped.
COTTON: "Boy, if you're reading this, it means Fatty's dead.
"It also means this last task comes down to the one most likely to screw it up you.
" Oh, God.
"Take what's in this box and flush it down the crapper "that General George S.
Patton used "right before he left to hunt down Pancho Villa in Mexico.
" Wha-what on earth would Cotton want flushed down a toilet? Good Lord, Peggy.
My dad wants me to flush him! What kind of man asks his son to flush his remains down a toilet? Look on the bright side, Uncle Hank.
This would have been much more difficult if Cotton hadn't had the foresight to cremate himself first.
Apparently it's some sort of tradition in Cotton's platoon.
After one of them dies, the remaining members reunite to send their buddy off to a watery grave.
Which just happens to be a toilet.
Well, it doesn't sound very respectful if you ask me.
But if that's what my dad wanted, then that's what I have to do.
I don't know, Hank.
General Patton's toilet would definitely be in my top three places where I'd like to get flushed.
Right behind the one Elvis died on and yours.
DALE (on walkie-talkie): I want my skeleton to be dismantled and sent in a box to Singapore to be re-mantled.
Dang it, Dale.
If you're gonna participate in the discussion you have to be here in person.
DALE No can do.
Not as long as what's-his-fat is there.
According to our agreement I have the alley from Kahn said it's within my legal right to pull his batteries out at any time.
Hey! Relax, Bill.
So when do you and I and not Bill leave, Hank? I've got my flushing arm ready.
What? Why does Dale get to go flush the colonel?! I hate Dale.
We all hate Dale! Dang it, I've had enough of this.
Neither of you are going.
Boomhauer, we leave tonight.
Dang ol' yo, man.
(sighs) Let's get this over with.
HANK: Okay.
There's the bathroom.
Let's go.
What are you guys doing here? You should be asking Dale that.
Because it's Saturday, and I get Hank on Saturdays! That was pending negotiation! So anyway, Hank, I was thinking that since I was Cotton's favorite, I should be the one to push the flusher.
This is a military ceremony, and since I'm military, I should flush! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! (shouting) I know what you're doing.
You're trying to flush someone down Patton's toilet, aren't you? Uh, well, it was my dad's last request.
See, he was a veteran, and I don't care if he was George S.
Patton himself.
I'm sick of all this.
Guys come in here all the time trying to flush their dead relatives down that toilet, and you know what happens each time? My toilet gets clogged.
And you know who has to pay to unclog it? Me.
But my dad's Out! All your blabbing in there reminded me how much I want to push you into traffic-- mouth first.
How dare you! Sucker punch! (both grunting) All right, that's enough! I've had it with your fighting and with my dad's asinine list! I'm going home.
Boy, Hank was a little dramatic, don't you think? Yeah.
It's sad, but some people thrive on that sort of thing.
Man, what, you kidding me, man? Talkin' 'bout ol' yak, yak, yak, blah, blah, bluh.
Just shut up, man.
Dang ol', just got to do this for Hank, man.
It's about Hank, man.
BILL: Hank, we've got something we want to say.
We apologize.
And we want to help you finish what we screwed up.
We want to help flush Cotton down the toilet.
(sighs) I don't even care anymore.
And even if I did, there's no way that bartender's gonna let us back in.
Don't worry about that.
Cotton's going down that toilet tonight.
We have a plan.
A plan that's going to distract a whole bar full of people? It's not just a bar full of people, Hank.
It's a bar full of military people.
Yup, Vietnam.
That was the toughest war we ever fought.
I heard that! At least we won ours, you whiny dope smokers! World War ll was the last great war! Man, the Russians did all the dirty work for you guys.
Now Desert Storm-- That was the real gut check.
Desert Storm? You guys barely had time to eat a falafel before you hightailed it out of there.
MAN: What abouts Grenada? Them medical students was trapped! Come on, you guys! Remember the rules! Not my rules! Hell with the rules! I can't read! Hank, would you like to do the honors? Well, to be honest, I don't really have anything nice to say.
You go ahead, Dale.
I think I've caused enough trouble this week.
Bill, why don't you? I don't deserve it, either.
I'm embarrassed I got so upset over a stupid beer can.
And how I didn't help you, Hank.
I'm sorry to both of you.
I'm sorry, too, Hank.
And I'm sorry, Bill.
When we get back home, I'll pick up the beer can.
You don't have to.
(voice breaking): I want to.
Uh, you know, I-I guess I did learn something about Cotton this week.
Sure, he killed 50 men, but he didn't do it alone.
There were all kinds of Stinkies and Fatties to help him.
Those guys meant a lot to Cotton, just like you guys, uh, mean a lot to me.
It's a shame we never got to experience the horrors of war together, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy our, uh, time together.
Well, I guess we should do this.
Hold on a sec, Hank.
Attention! (toilet flushing) Yup.
I just got the bill from the Chimney Pipe.
I have to reimburse them $300 for that clogged toilet.
I guess we just have to accept the fact that even dead, Cotton will always find a way to disrupt our lives.
This one is on me.
You know, Dad, you never answered my questions about you.
Well, you're right, Bobby.
What do you want to know? I'll tell you anything.
How do you like your hamburgers cooked? Medium rare.
Three flips.
Okay.
What was it like the first time you slept in a bed with Mom? How'd you choose which side of the bed you'd sleep on? And did you start cuddling right away, or did you build up to it? Well, uh, okay.
Uh, let's start with the bed question.
Uh, I sleep on the north side.
As for the cuddling, uh (clears throat) Uh, Peggy, could you get me some water? Hello.
I'm Hank Hill.
Clogged toilets are a serious issue that affects everyone.
I'd like to take a moment to give you a few pointers on proper toilet usage so what happened in this episode won't happen to you.
First off, items like cotton swabs, chewing gum, cigarettes, and, uh, lady things should not be flushed.
The basic rule is, never flush anything down a toilet that doesn't come directly, uh, from you.
For tougher clogs, purchase a snake at a local hardware store, or consult your local yellow pages for a certified plumber in your area.
If it's a father and son company, request the father.
And finally, I want you to know that no pipes were actually damaged in the making of this episode.
Thank you.
COTTON: I killed 50 men!
There's no oil in your oil pan, but lots of it in your windshield washer reservoir.
I don't know if we can save this engine.
Our best bet might be to take out the floorboards and make this a Flintstones car.
I'd say you should donate it to charity, but charity people have enough problems.
Dang it, Bill, you know this car deserves better.
Sorry, Hank.
Sorry, car.
Dale, you missed the trash can.
Meh.
Hank, you will never believe who is on our answering machine.
Didi.
Didi? What does she want? My dad's been dead over a year.
I was hoping she'd take that as the end of her step-mothering duties.
My guess is, with Cotton gone, Didi's probably lonely and desperate for a new man.
Prepare for war, Peggy.
Shut up, Dale.
I better go give it a listen.
Dale, you're gonna pick up that can, right? Maybe I'll pick it up, maybe I won't.
We call that suspense.
(over speaker): This is Didi Hill.
Cotton asked that I give you this.
See you soon.
"This"? What does she mean by "this"? We can't see through the dang phone.
This is bad, Hank.
Nothing involving your father ever turns out good.
You know what I've been wondering? Was Grandpa a good dancer? Because-- no offense-- There's no way I got my moves from either of you.
Well, I don't think your grandpa liked to dance, Bobby.
Dancing conveys a certain amount of joy that I don't think your grandfather condoned.
Okay, then, what did Grandpa like? Well, uh, he was a war hero.
He killed 50 men and, uh, well, you know, that's a lot of, uh a lot of men.
Hmm, there's got to be something else.
You must be very proud, Mr.
Hill.
Of course I am.
I killed 50 men.
I killed 50 men! I killed 50 men.
Hmm.
I don't think I know anything about my dad.
Well, other than his hatred of Tojos, Nazis and my mother.
Well, hatred was just about all there was to Cotton.
And no, no, just hatred.
Maybe it's normal not to know much about your father.
How much do you guys know about your dads? If anything, I know too much about my father.
It's all tucked away in the corners of my brain that alcohol can't reach.
I was able to piece together an interesting history of my father using mug shots and dental records.
My dad collects stamps.
His favorite color is dark blue.
Oh, and he loves paella, especially when it's made by his boyfriend, Stephano.
Well Didi's coming by tomorrow.
It might be my last chance to ask her some questions about him.
So, are you going to pick up that can, Dale? I have a to-do list a mile long, but when I get done with everything on that list uh, I can't lie to you, Bill.
I'm not going to do it.
(yawning) (squeals) (doorbell ringing) Open that door, Dale! What do you want? I want you to pick up the can! Why me? You're closer.
Geez.
I swear.
It's like you don't have any respect for me.
Of course I don't.
Look at you.
(grunts angrily) I'm tired of being ignored.
You're picking that can up right now! (grunts) Oh, here's something I've been curious about.
Did my dad ever use the ratchet set we got him for his birthday? The drop-forged one, not the heat-treated one we gave him for Christmas.
That's your seventh question about Cotton's tools.
I think you should try a new area.
You know, all this stuff about Grandpa got me worrying that maybe I don't know enough about you.
Like, when you were my age, did you practice kissing on your hand or your pillow? Yeah, uh that question being of a personal nature and such, it's kind of difficult to, uh BILL: Pick it up, pick it up, pick it up! Gribble and Dauterive really going at it.
The chain-smoking anorexic versus the heart attack waiting to happen.
Who will die first? Let's watch.
I don't know why you're so worried about that can, Bill.
If it's anything like your ex-wife, it'll come to its senses and walk away forever.
(gasps): You know what? I haven't liked you for years! Hold on, Bill.
Dale, the only reason lever hung out with you was because of Boomhauer and Hank.
- Oh, really? Then how come just last week you said you were my best friend? I pretended you were Hank when I said it! (gasps) Okay, that's enough, you two.
You're dead to me, Bill Dauterive! Good, I'd rather be dead than be your friend anyway! Boycott Dale Gribble! He is an exterminator of bugs and friendship! Do not let him into your house or your hearts! This fight seems to be getting serious.
Looks like I'm going to have to do something to end this.
I'm going to go grab a case of Alamo Gold and sit them down until this thing is figured out.
I think it's too late for that.
This has gone beyond a fight, and has officially become a "dude-vorce.
" A what? A "dude-vorce" is what happens when male friends break up.
Parade magazine did a whole half page on it.
It's true.
I heard that one in two male friendships now ends in "dude-vorce.
" It's so sad when dudes grow apart.
She's here! Didi's here! Hello, Hank.
Peggy.
Hello, Didi.
How have you been? Excellent.
I'm getting married to a wealthy professional wrestler.
Anyway, this box is for you.
Sorry, I'm so late getting it to you.
You have no idea how difficult it has been to grieve and fall madly in love at the same time.
Now I have to go.
Wait, wait! Are you sure you can't stick around? I have some things I wanted to ask you about my dad.
I'm sorry, Hank, but I had to clear Cotton out of my mind so I could make room for my new husband.
But, but I have a list! "Did my dad like Washington apples?" What's in it? I can't stand the waiting! Well, looks like some of my dad's medals, uniforms, some paperwork It's his personal belongings.
He must have wanted you to have these, Hank.
Maybe your dad did not hate you, after all.
Hey, a tape recorder.
COTTON (on tape): Hank, I know no parent ever wants their kids to outlive them, but if you're hearing this, I guess somehow you pulled it off.
Anyway, here's a box of my possessions and a list of my wishes.
As the executor of my estate, you gots to do everything I tells ya.
It won't be pretty and you're probably going to cry a little.
Just remember, I'll be watching.
And laughing.
That is all.
Oh, that man had some nerve! All you wanted was to know a little bit about him, and what do you get in return? His dirty work.
Oh, I'm sorry, Hank.
Why are you sorry? My dad has made me the executor of his will.
I'm finally going to learn something about him.
BOBBY: Wow! Look at all this shin jelly! And a gun! Oh, dear Lord.
Put that thing down! Let me see that list.
Oh, I see he left Dale, Bill and Boomhauer something.
And of course, I see nothing for you on this list, Hank-- typical.
That's not true.
My dad gave me the greatest gift: the trust and honor of handling his affairs.
Honor? Have you seen what he wants you to do, Hank? "Give the finger to the bouncer at Juggstore Cowboys.
" "Spit on the steps of the Japanese Embassy.
" The man is dead.
You do not have to do this.
Peggy, my dad entrusted me with his final wishes and I have to see it through for him.
I can't just throw the list away.
He's right.
This thing is like a treasure map of Grandpa.
Can I come with you when you "slap the butt of some brunette nurses at the V.
A.
"? No! No! (gasps) (whispers): Tell him I want my kiddie pool and my leaf blower.
Okay, uh, next issue.
Gribble wants the kiddie pool and his leaf blower back, as well as the alley on Saturdays.
No sale! We already gave you the Arlen High football tickets and the alley every other Sunday.
What the heck is going on here? Hank, when it comes to a breakup, there are no winners, only losers-- two losers.
Can you guys just put it on hold for a second? I have some stuff I have to give you from my dad.
Cotton brought that fork back from Germany.
I'm, uh, pretty sure he killed somebody with it.
(gasps): It's beautiful! I love getting gifts, Hank.
I'm pretty sure Dale doesn't know that though, since he hasn't gotten me anything for my birthday for the last 14 years.
That's right, I counted! What can you possibly give the man who has nothing? Look, I could really use both of your help with my dad's estate.
So just punch each other or grill a steak, and get this ridiculous fight over with.
Meat won't solve this, Hank.
Not this time.
So either pick a side or get lost.
Now, where were we? (whispering) Gribble's gonna need that fork.
No way! It'll go well with this knife.
Give him fork, Dauterive.
Well, thanks for offering to help me, Peggy, but I don't know if you should come in.
You've seen the list.
This might not be the place for a lady.
Hank, I'm looking on the bright side.
This list will let me relive Cotton's death over and over again.
Uh, thanks for meeting us, Madame Francine.
Uh, this is for you from my father.
So, you knew my father, apparently.
Uh, is there anything you can tell me about him? (French accent): Yes.
Of all his platoon mates, Cotton was the most curious and inventive lover.
(groans) Uh, excuse me.
Are you two the Cleery sisters? Yes, sir.
Uh, this is from Cotton Hill.
I'm very sorry.
(sighs) Oh, for heaven's sake.
(slapping) Oh! HANK: What an awful day.
You know, I'm really starting to wonder what the point of all this is.
Maybe the point was for Cotton to humiliate you one last time.
Well, all we have left to do is deliver this spat to someone named Fatty.
And then it's all finally over.
Thank God.
Yeah, I guess.
(knocking on door) Hi, uh, I'm looking for Fatty.
Fatty dead.
I'm his son, Little Fatty.
Who you? Well, I'm Cotton Hill's son, Hank.
My dad was in the service with your father.
He passed away last year, and he wanted your father to have this.
Oh, yeah.
Daddy Fatty told me about that.
I'll take it.
(grunts) (groans) What the hell was that for? Oh, Hank, I know you were looking to find out something about your father, but apparently it was just not meant to be.
(sighs) (door opens) This key opens a box at the bus station.
And sorry about the stomping.
That was Cotton's wish.
Well, here it is.
Box 1942.
Open it slowly, Hank.
It could be booby-trapped.
COTTON: "Boy, if you're reading this, it means Fatty's dead.
"It also means this last task comes down to the one most likely to screw it up you.
" Oh, God.
"Take what's in this box and flush it down the crapper "that General George S.
Patton used "right before he left to hunt down Pancho Villa in Mexico.
" Wha-what on earth would Cotton want flushed down a toilet? Good Lord, Peggy.
My dad wants me to flush him! What kind of man asks his son to flush his remains down a toilet? Look on the bright side, Uncle Hank.
This would have been much more difficult if Cotton hadn't had the foresight to cremate himself first.
Apparently it's some sort of tradition in Cotton's platoon.
After one of them dies, the remaining members reunite to send their buddy off to a watery grave.
Which just happens to be a toilet.
Well, it doesn't sound very respectful if you ask me.
But if that's what my dad wanted, then that's what I have to do.
I don't know, Hank.
General Patton's toilet would definitely be in my top three places where I'd like to get flushed.
Right behind the one Elvis died on and yours.
DALE (on walkie-talkie): I want my skeleton to be dismantled and sent in a box to Singapore to be re-mantled.
Dang it, Dale.
If you're gonna participate in the discussion you have to be here in person.
DALE No can do.
Not as long as what's-his-fat is there.
According to our agreement I have the alley from Kahn said it's within my legal right to pull his batteries out at any time.
Hey! Relax, Bill.
So when do you and I and not Bill leave, Hank? I've got my flushing arm ready.
What? Why does Dale get to go flush the colonel?! I hate Dale.
We all hate Dale! Dang it, I've had enough of this.
Neither of you are going.
Boomhauer, we leave tonight.
Dang ol' yo, man.
(sighs) Let's get this over with.
HANK: Okay.
There's the bathroom.
Let's go.
What are you guys doing here? You should be asking Dale that.
Because it's Saturday, and I get Hank on Saturdays! That was pending negotiation! So anyway, Hank, I was thinking that since I was Cotton's favorite, I should be the one to push the flusher.
This is a military ceremony, and since I'm military, I should flush! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! (shouting) I know what you're doing.
You're trying to flush someone down Patton's toilet, aren't you? Uh, well, it was my dad's last request.
See, he was a veteran, and I don't care if he was George S.
Patton himself.
I'm sick of all this.
Guys come in here all the time trying to flush their dead relatives down that toilet, and you know what happens each time? My toilet gets clogged.
And you know who has to pay to unclog it? Me.
But my dad's Out! All your blabbing in there reminded me how much I want to push you into traffic-- mouth first.
How dare you! Sucker punch! (both grunting) All right, that's enough! I've had it with your fighting and with my dad's asinine list! I'm going home.
Boy, Hank was a little dramatic, don't you think? Yeah.
It's sad, but some people thrive on that sort of thing.
Man, what, you kidding me, man? Talkin' 'bout ol' yak, yak, yak, blah, blah, bluh.
Just shut up, man.
Dang ol', just got to do this for Hank, man.
It's about Hank, man.
BILL: Hank, we've got something we want to say.
We apologize.
And we want to help you finish what we screwed up.
We want to help flush Cotton down the toilet.
(sighs) I don't even care anymore.
And even if I did, there's no way that bartender's gonna let us back in.
Don't worry about that.
Cotton's going down that toilet tonight.
We have a plan.
A plan that's going to distract a whole bar full of people? It's not just a bar full of people, Hank.
It's a bar full of military people.
Yup, Vietnam.
That was the toughest war we ever fought.
I heard that! At least we won ours, you whiny dope smokers! World War ll was the last great war! Man, the Russians did all the dirty work for you guys.
Now Desert Storm-- That was the real gut check.
Desert Storm? You guys barely had time to eat a falafel before you hightailed it out of there.
MAN: What abouts Grenada? Them medical students was trapped! Come on, you guys! Remember the rules! Not my rules! Hell with the rules! I can't read! Hank, would you like to do the honors? Well, to be honest, I don't really have anything nice to say.
You go ahead, Dale.
I think I've caused enough trouble this week.
Bill, why don't you? I don't deserve it, either.
I'm embarrassed I got so upset over a stupid beer can.
And how I didn't help you, Hank.
I'm sorry to both of you.
I'm sorry, too, Hank.
And I'm sorry, Bill.
When we get back home, I'll pick up the beer can.
You don't have to.
(voice breaking): I want to.
Uh, you know, I-I guess I did learn something about Cotton this week.
Sure, he killed 50 men, but he didn't do it alone.
There were all kinds of Stinkies and Fatties to help him.
Those guys meant a lot to Cotton, just like you guys, uh, mean a lot to me.
It's a shame we never got to experience the horrors of war together, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy our, uh, time together.
Well, I guess we should do this.
Hold on a sec, Hank.
Attention! (toilet flushing) Yup.
I just got the bill from the Chimney Pipe.
I have to reimburse them $300 for that clogged toilet.
I guess we just have to accept the fact that even dead, Cotton will always find a way to disrupt our lives.
This one is on me.
You know, Dad, you never answered my questions about you.
Well, you're right, Bobby.
What do you want to know? I'll tell you anything.
How do you like your hamburgers cooked? Medium rare.
Three flips.
Okay.
What was it like the first time you slept in a bed with Mom? How'd you choose which side of the bed you'd sleep on? And did you start cuddling right away, or did you build up to it? Well, uh, okay.
Uh, let's start with the bed question.
Uh, I sleep on the north side.
As for the cuddling, uh (clears throat) Uh, Peggy, could you get me some water? Hello.
I'm Hank Hill.
Clogged toilets are a serious issue that affects everyone.
I'd like to take a moment to give you a few pointers on proper toilet usage so what happened in this episode won't happen to you.
First off, items like cotton swabs, chewing gum, cigarettes, and, uh, lady things should not be flushed.
The basic rule is, never flush anything down a toilet that doesn't come directly, uh, from you.
For tougher clogs, purchase a snake at a local hardware store, or consult your local yellow pages for a certified plumber in your area.
If it's a father and son company, request the father.
And finally, I want you to know that no pipes were actually damaged in the making of this episode.
Thank you.
COTTON: I killed 50 men!