All language subtitles for King of the Hill s03e08 Good Hill Hunting.eng

[Clanking]

Yup.

Yup.

[Dale grunting]

BILL: See? I told you it wasn't me
going through your garbage. See? Deer.

I guess we owe you an apology...

and I guess those were probably
deer droppings, too.

Probably.

Those deer are infiltrating
the human quadrant.

They've replaced fire ants
as the number one ex-urban pest.

If everything I know about exterminating
is true, which it is...

we got to find the queen deer
and take her out.

Queen deer. I'll bet she's beautiful.

And the best part is
Joseph's finally old enough to come.

Yup, I'm taking my boy on his first hunt...

the same way my dad took me...

25 years ago.

We're not just killing a deer,
we're killing Joseph's childhood.

You. I am photographically
memorizing your face.

BILL: Look at that.
He's staring right back at you.

Git!

[Window remote clicking]

[Theme music]

Okay, Hank. You can borrow
my Tackstar laser sight.

Bobby's first hunt, so he'll need
the Russian night vision goggles.

My Joseph's got the bionic ear booster,
and I'll be in charge of the good stuff.

Deer wee-wee.

Super-premium estrus deer wee-wee.
A little dab will do you.

This is crazy. People used to go hunting...

and all they'd need was an orange shirt
and a six-pack.

Times have changed, Hank.

But you'd know all this
if you were a hunter.

For the love of God, man.
You go to church...

more than you go hunting.
You should be ashamed.

[Friends laughing]

I'm not ashamed. And I'm glad
there's people out there thinning the herd.

But if I wanna get sloppy drunk
and shoot off guns with a bunch of guys...

I'll go to my dad's Oscar party.

Hank, a hunting trip's not just about
getting drunk or shooting deer.

It's about getting out in the woods,
away from the government...

where your paper money's useless,
unless you run out of leaves...

where man can let down his guard...

and share his biggest fears.

Dale, you with your guard down
is my biggest fear.

My biggest fear is that little pointy...
Well, I'll save it for the trip.

-You mean the beetle?
-Shut up. I was saving that for the trip.

BOBBY: Don't think of it as a rifle.

Think of it as a part of your body
that fires bullets.

When the time comes...

you think you'll be able to,
you know, pull the trigger?

Yeah. I don't wanna be the only kid around
who doesn't kill a deer.

You could get a loser nickname like,
I don't know...

Pork Pockets?

More about not killing deer, but, yeah.

But we don't have to worry 'cause
we'll be hunting with our dads. A team.

[Ethereal instrumental music]

[Bird squawking]

[Hank groaning]

[Hank gasps]

-Go get him, Bobby.
-No, we're a team.

[Bobby grunting]

[Gun clicking]

[Dramatic instrumental music]

[Birds twittering]

Bobby, I just wanna say
that you are perfect, and a man.

I don't mean to brag...

especially about something
that hasn't actually happened yet.

HANK: What's with the bandages?

Luanne fixing to give you another haircut?

This is for you and Bobby
to take on your hunting trip.

You'll be ready for cuts, sprains,
and I even put in a needle and thread...

to sew your ear back on
after Bobby talks it off.

Yeah.

We'll be gossiping like schoolgirls.

And I made a little hunting permit case
out of a freezer bag.

Give me your permit and I'll stick it in.

Well, I haven't really got the permit yet.

You didn't buy the permit yet?
Hank, what is wrong with you?

Nothing. That reminds me, did you get
the batteries for Bobby's Game Boy?

And did you pack his backup Game Boy?

Bobby's not bringing toys on this trip.

And when was the last time
he had two whole days to spend...

just talking with his father?

I spend lots of time with Bobby.

He's there when I eat.
He's there when I watch TV.

I've thrown countless balls at him
in the backyard.

[Peggy sighing]

-You're scared of being alone with him.
-I am not.

You are scared of your own son.

Maybe I am. I don't get him sometimes.
The things that come out of his mouth...

He's almost a teenager,
so it's just gonna get worse.

And I don't know
what we're gonna talk about for two days.

Hell, yes, I'm scared.

This is an important milestone on Bobby's
road to becoming a successful adult.

One of the big three. Age 12: First hunt.

Age 16: Learns to drive.
Age 18: Finally turns 18.

Give him this milestone, Hank,
so he can move on to the next...

and eventually move out of the house.

And then you won't
have to talk to him at all.

All right, fine. I'll get the permit.

Bobby will kill the deer,
and everyone will live happily ever after.

[Gentle instrumental music]

[Groaning]

Bobby, what are you doing
in the master bedroom?

The truck's all packed,
breakfast is cooked...

and here's your robe, towel,
and toothbrush.

[Singing]

[Hank sighing]

-Hello, son. What are you doing?
-Watching.

[Hank sighs]

What does a razor smell like?
I bet it smells really good. Like metal.

Yeah. Okay.

Why don't you wait in the kitchen, Bobby?
I can't shave and talk at the same time.

That's okay. We don't have to talk.

[Water splashing]

Your boy's first buck.
I remember my first buck.

Took me six shots to bring him down,
three more to finish him off.

There was no usable meat left.
But what a thrill.

Sug', you're taking away my boy,
and you're gonna bring him home a man.

[Nancy sniffling]

And how long is that gonna take exactly?

Sorry, babe.

You'll have to do without the Big D
for at least two nights.

[Loud music playing on car stereo]

Dale.

John Redcorn. You brought back
that tea bag I lent you?

No. I have something for Joseph.

Your first hunting trip is a sacred occasion.

The deer you kill will be a relative.

You must show your respect for him
and all the deer people...

first by giving thanks...

then by using every part of his body.

No prob. We're taking old mister buck
right to the rendering plant...

for sausageification.

This hunting knife was given to me
by my father, and to him by his father.

Now, I pass it along to you.

A used knife.

[Joseph grunts hesitantly]

Cool. Thanks.

Let me hug my child one last time.

My big boy!
About to become my little man.

[Whispering] I filled your rifle bag with
fruit pies. Your rifle is in your sleeping bag.

Thanks, Mom.

I mean, Peggy.

DALE: Let's go!

Just a second.
There's one last errand I need to run.

What do you need? Mike and lke's?
Got you covered.

No, I just need to hop on over
to the county office...

and pick up a couple of hunting permits.
Don't worry, I'll be right back.

Can I help you?

Yeah, I'm taking my boy hunting,
so I need a couple of permits.

And one of those
"Don't Mess With Texas" bumper stickers.

No more deer permits this year.

Why not? They haven't all been shot.

I caught one picking through my garbage
like this was New York City.

I know. They're a real nuisance.
They're eating everything in sight.

Of course. There's too many deer
and not enough food.

Issue more permits
or they'll all starve.

Yeah, sorry.
We had to limit it to 400 this year.

Only way to get the environmentalists
off their hunger strike.

So you're telling me
my boy can't go hunting...

because you wouldn't let
a couple of twig boys starve?

HANK: Forget number six.
You're now serving nonsense.

-Good luck on your hunting trip, Bobby.
-Thanks.

Just so you know, I'm leaving a boy...

I'm coming back a man.

You're lucky. I'm leaving a girl,
and coming back a man.

KAHN: Kahn Jr.! I'm in the car.
You ride shotgun.

And don't forget raisin bagels.
They're in my briefcase.

All right, everyone, let's go.

Guys, why don't you go on ahead?
Bobby, hop in.

[Solemn instrumental music]

[Tires screeching]

[Hank exhaling]

Bobby, there's something
I want to tell you.

BOBBY: No, me first.

I know I'm about to be a man, Dad.

So I wanted to take this last chance...

to tell you how much I love you.

[Sighing]

You might want to take this last chance
to cry, too...

because we're not going.

[Solemn instrumental music]

[Grunting]

You see that?
He's already practicing up for next season.

I tell you what,
with this extra year under his belt...

he's not only gonna be a man,
he's gonna be...

a superman.

How do you like that? Our son, a superman.

[Hank sighing]

You have no clue, do you?

Would you look at him? He's at the age
where little-boy hormones get violent.

They don't call them nice, quiet,
well-behaved hormones.

They're raging, Hank!
He has a chemical need to kill.

I was counting on you
to channel that need away from humans.

[Suspenseful instrumental music]

[Yelling]

[Panting]

I'll be locking my bedroom door tonight.
So please be in by 10:00 p.m.

Red Dog One, this is Red Dog Three.
Do you copy? Over.

Ten-four, Red Dog Three.

[Walkie-talkie screeching]

[Both screaming]

Damn inferior Soviet surplus merchandise.
Never does what it's supposed to.

Or maybe it's doing
exactly what it's supposed to do.

Maybe it just bounced a signal
off a satellite to an attack sub...

in the Gulf of Mexico
whose mission is to read our brain waves.

That's my boy!

I was about to say
precisely the same thing.

Except the sub's in Lake Superior.

PEGGY: What are you doing, Bobby?
BOBBY: Nothing.

There's a spider in the kitchen.
Would you like to come kill it?

No, thanks.

Okay, then.

[Peggy swatting]

[Sighing]

[Hank snoring]

Hank, wake up.

I want to tell you I'm learning more about
how you destroyed Bobby's life.

I searched through my old
social studies files, and look what I found.

In a tribe in Papua New Guinea, a boy
who misses out on a rite of passage...

in their case, killing a missionary,
remains a boy forever.

He will never become a man.

This is a report by a seventh-grader.
And it only got a "C."

I have backup.
Look at this fourth-grade Word Find...

about the Huron Indians' rites of passage.

"Madness"?

When a little Huron Indian boy
wants to achieve manhood...

but he fails to kill an elk,
he will get physically ill...

and then go stark raving mad.

Well, I did see Bobby
talking to the Mrs. Butterworth bottle.

But I didn't think it was strange
at the time.

Could you give me a hand
carrying this out to my SUV?

Eustace? I've never seen you in here before.

Finally decided to make the switch
to propane?

You know, I think you'll find
it's the perfect choice for all your heating--

Thanks, but we use passive solar.

The propane's for cooking Randy's deer,
once he kills it, of course.

What? You're gonna take
that son of yours hunting?

I've got to. It's a rite of passage.
That's the feeling in my men's group.

That's why I'm not taking any chances.

La Grunta. The La Grunta Hotel and Resort
does a hunt every year.

They take care of everything.

Guns, permits, apr�s hunt wine-tasting.

Permits?

"Cushioned shooting stands, heated blinds
with automatic corn feeders.�

That's not hunting.
That's shooting fish in a barrel.

EUSTACE: They have that, too.

[Gentle instrumental music]

[Bobby exclaims]

You want to ride bikes with me?

Okay.

...which brings us
to the Trilateral Commission.

Ironically named,
because there's actually four--

Dad, I think I hear a deer.

I had better go have a look.

[Suspenseful instrumental music]

[Screaming]

Thanks.

[Gun firing]

[Whooping]

[Both laughing victoriously]

-Nice throw, Dad.
-Nice shot, son.

-We make a great team, don't we?
-Yup.

The Gribble doesn't fall far from the tree.

[Both chuckle]

[Imitating gunfire]

[Imitating gunfire]

[Gasps]

[Bobby whimpering]

Bobby, stop playing dead.
Get up before someone sees you.

What was that? Dad, is that you?

Everything's so dim.

-Bobby, get up.
-I'm not gonna make it.

HANK: You are not injured.
BOBBY: The gold is buried...

[Wheezing]

It's buried...

[Bobby moaning]

Stand up.

Bobby, look what I got.

[Connie exclaiming victoriously]

- I got shot in a holdup.
-What?

He's fine, Connie. He had
an allergic reaction to a fruit pie, that's all.

BILL: That's it.

DALE: Hell, yeah. Look at that beaut.

How about this kid, Hank?
Excuse me. How about this man?

Look at me.

Everybody's got a deer and I don't.

[Sniffling]

Everything looks so Christmassy.

Now I know how the Jewish kids feel.

[Bobby crying]

How would you like to trade in that
cowboy costume for a hunting permit?

What? Do you mean it? You got a permit?

I got better than a permit.

I got La Grunta.

[Soft instrumental music]

This is fancy. Where do the deer stay?

They don't keep the deer in the hotel.

God! I hope they don't.

Hi, I'm Beverly La Grunta. No relation.
Can I help you?

HANK: We're here to deer hunt.

Wonderful! The shuttle leaves
in a half an hour.

It's $400 for two.
Will that be cash or credit?

$400?

Bobby, look at all this other stuff.

-We could golf or swim with a dolphin.
-Can I hunt it?

It doesn't say. Here you go.
"Museum of Miniatures."�

$40 and worth every penny, if you ask me.

Don't get upset, now.
I was just testing you.

[Hank laughs nervously]

You passed.

BOY: Hey, Bobby!

-Look at my deer.
-He shot it all by himself.

They wrapped it at the gift shop.

[Gentle instrumental music]

[Bobby gasps]

[Bird squawks]

[Bobby sighing]

-It's beautiful.
-Boy, you said it.

Now, careful when you walk.

Deer can hear the rhythmic pattern
of human footsteps.

Gotcha!

[Vehicle approaching]

There's an open stand in pasture two
with your name on it.

That'd be Hill, right?

I will never forget this moment, Dad.

It's the greatest thing
that ever happened to me.

When I'm a man,
do I still get my allowance...

or do I get up to minimum wage?

Son, now that you're gonna be a man,
you're gonna have more responsibilities...

and maybe you do deserve
a little more each week.

Yup.

Yup!

[Sentimental instrumental music]

[Corn feeder whirring]

[WHISPERING] I think I'm gonna shoot the
one on the left. What do you think, Dad?

I don't think
you have to whisper anymore, Bobby.

[Ominous instrumental music]

BOBBY: Squeeze, don't pull.

[Birds twittering]

-This isn't right, is it, Dad?
-No, it isn't, son.

HANK: I'm sorry, Bobby.
I guess I really let you down, didn't I?

It's okay. I know you didn't mean for it
to be this horrible.

There's plenty of worse things
than getting to hold on to your boyhood...

for a whole other year.

And by holding on to your boyhood,
I don't mean--

I know, Dad. I know.

Look at it this way.
This gives me an extra year...

to learn from the man
I'd most like to be like...

when I finally become a man.

[Hank sighs]

Damn it, Bobby! This just ain't right.

You're 12 years old. You're a good son.
You deserve better than this.

[Brakes squealing]

I'm gonna skip you ahead
one whole milestone.

-I'm gonna let you drive my truck.
-What?

You heard me. Well, come on.
Grab some wheel.

I don't believe it! I'm in your seat!

Believe it, Bobby.
It's real, and it's really happening.

Now, you gotta reach the pedals.

[Hank grunts]

HANK: And now, we'll fix your mirror.
Okay, start her up.

Now, that's the gear shift,
and that's the brake.

And, well, you've seen the movies.
You know how it works. Let's go.

[Soulful instrumental music]

[Engine sputtering]

Keep it steady. That's good.

This is so cool.

I'm driving the hell out of this truck,
aren't I, Dad?

You sure are, son. You sure are.

[Both screaming]

HANK: Brake! No!

[Thudding]

Oh, no! I hit a deer with your truck.

Oh, God!

Yeah, you did.

And it's a good, clean kill.

Yup, a good kill.

PEGGY: They're home.

You should have seen it.

It came out of the woods,
and charged right at us.

But Bobby took care of it. No problem.
Didn't you, boy?

I mean, man.

My son. My big, strong, normal son.

Nice going, Bobby.
Would you look at the rack on that thing?

-There's your sausage parts, right there.
-Nice going, Bobby.

CONNIE: Way to go, Bobby!
JOSEPH: Yeah!

-I couldn't have done it without my dad.
-Yup.

[Gentle instrumental music]

BOBBY: I'm driving the hell
out of this truck!

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