[Soft instrumental country music]
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What do you say we tee off together?
Sure thing, Willie.
BOTH: Dead solid perfect.
I've always wanted to sell propane...
and propane accessories, like you do.
I guess this dang music thing came up.
Well, ain't no changing the past, I guess. Let's jam.
[Playing guitars softly]
[Playing badly]
[Anxious moaning]
What in the name of God?
Bobby!
[Moans]
[Guitar strumming]
[Theme music]
Son, have you lost your mind?
Aren't you supposed to knock first? I could've been naked.
Bobby, how many times have I told you?
Betsy is not a toy.
She's a 1963 Guild solid-top...
[Sniffing]
What's that smell? You been playing this with your feet?
That's cheese, Dad.
Why would there ever be cheese on Betsy?
It's funny. It's a comedy routine.
You know, you play the guitar with a piece of cheese and you go:
"Hey, look at me. I'm Eddie Cheddar!"
[Bobby chuckling]
- You know, it's from Celery Head. - What is a Celery Head?
He's the world's best comedian. He glues things!
Like he glues a Kleenex box to a tennis shoe and goes:
"This is in case you have a runny nose."
That's not a joke, son. That's a waste of good glue.
Well, he makes $3 million a year.
You must've got that wrong.
People don't pay money to see things like that.
Now, Robert Klein, that's something you pay money for.
- [Yawning] What is going on in there? - I'm worried about our boy.
Some green-haired freak told him to rub cheese on my guitar.
You mean Celery Head. I saw him on Entertainment Tonight.
PEGGY: He makes $3 million a year.
[Sighs]
Luanne, good Lord! Put on some pants!
I'm wearing shorts.
[Screams]
Don't scare me like that!
Look at this, Peggy. The boy chipped Betsy's bridge.
And he woke me up from my Willie Nelson golfing dream, number three.
Calm down. It is just a bunch of wood and some wires.
Wood and wires? I've had Betsy since high school.
I took her to the prom. I love this guitar.
Do you understand what I'm saying? Do you understand what love means?
Yes. I love my family.
Yeah. Now you're getting it. That's the kind of love I have for Betsy.
- I'm going back to sleep. You coming? - I'm already up.
Besides, I wouldn't want to make Betsy jealous.
HANK: Luanne, would you please not sit like that?
[Making engine sounds]
"I sell propane and propane accessories.
"I tell you what. Shut up, Dale."
[Crash]
Willie, no. That's a one-way street.
[Horn blaring]
HANK: What happened to my truck? BOBBY: Your mower hit it.
Maybe I ought to send my mower to one of those children's psychologists.
[Grunting]
LUANNE: Are you mad about something? PEGGY: Mad? Why would I be mad?
Just because Hank pays more attention to that silly guitar than he does to me?
[Screaming]
Lay off the gas.
If I break another nail, I'll fail my manicure final.
Are you having trouble at the beauty academy?
No.
I'm also failing braid work.
Braid work does not come natural to the women in our family, honey.
You know it, I know it, and the whole town knows it.
[Horn blaring]
Sounds like your horn's going off!
HANK: You really think so, Bill?
Oh, yeah.
Damn it, Hank!
You know I can't have loud, sudden noises while I'm meditating!
I was a nose hair away from attaining inner peace!
Shut up!
[Horn stops]
Don't even try to take credit for that.
It was not done by me. It was done through me.
[Metallic clank]
What is that chinging noise?
One of those stealth helicopters...
with computerized noise-cancellation capability.
They're still working the chings out.
How did you know about the stealth helicopters?
Alt. Conspiracy. Black. Helicopters.
I tell you what. That Internet, man. You just go in there, point and click.
Get in and talk about ww. W com.
Mean, you got them naked chicks on there.
You go click, click, click. It's real easy, man.
HANK: Bobby, give me that club!
Son, maybe I'm not getting through to you.
Let me explain.
You got to respect other people's things.
You do not use a man's pitching wedge to hit clumps of mud.
It's not mud, Dad. It's dog doo.
HANK: That boy ain't right.
[Hollering]
Excellent workout! I got my rotator cuff rotating.
My face feels weird.
- Carlos! - Carlos?
You name your things, I'll name mine.
What about that thing named Bobby? What are we gonna do about him?
He seems bent on destroying everything I own.
Why can't he turn that energy into something useful?
Like that boy with no legs who ran across Canada.
Maybe you need to spend some time together, just talking.
You and Bobby. Mano a mano.
- I can't now, I'm going golfing. - Take him with you.
We're riding a full 18 holes today.
You know what that kind of stress can do to a boy?
Bobby, I apologize for yelling at you.
But sometimes, you just don't listen.
It's like you got a problem with concentration.
Bobby?
Bobby!
Hey! You just killed me!
You needed killing.
I've been thinking, son...
and I realized, you don't have any goals.
You've got to figure out what you want to do with your life.
Okay. Can we go to Six Flags?
[Sighs]
I think you need a role model.
Someone to emulate. A hero.
Someone besides that Broccoli Neck.
How about Eddie Stillson? Can I emulate him?
Now, there you go. Eddie Stillson. Which one's he?
Is he the space shuttle astronaut or the stock car champ?
He got to the end of Level 6 in Scream Ninja.
Bobby, when I say "hero," I don't mean some weird Game Boy freak.
If you don't watch it, you're gonna end up like Jason Adderly's boy.
Deal me out this hand, Jason.
I'm about to bust.
Sorry, I thought, this was the bathroom. Oh, good Lord!
[Panting]
You know Howard Adderly?
He's my number-two hero, after Eddie Stillson.
Bobby, you need to be lectured all afternoon.
Peggy, I'm taking the boy golfing, and that's that.
[Grunting]
Careful now, Peggy. Betsy isn't strapped in yet.
Do not tell me you're taking that thing golfing with you.
Don't be silly, Peg. Just bringing her in to get fixed.
Sit in the middle, son. I want to make sure Betsy's in front of the airbag.
HANK: So, Bobby, we've got to think of a hero for you.
- Do you have a hero, Dad? - I sure do. And it's Willie Nelson.
How come?
You might say he's been my inspiration.
See, Willie grew up in Texas, and I grew up in Texas.
He loves golfing and playing guitar.
I love golfing and playing guitar.
He's had trouble with the IRS.
And I must have spent six hours last April on that 1040 form.
"EZ," my ass.
Do you have a hero like that?
Willie Nelson?
You're just saying Willie Nelson because I said Willie Nelson.
No, I like Willie Nelson.
He's got long hair. He's Alternative.
Now, you take that back.
I followed that man from Country Western...
to Country, to Adult Contemporary...
and that's as far as I'm going.
Here, son. Take a look at that.
That's Willie Nelson's own personal golf course.
LUANNE: I am going to show that braiding machine who's boss.
Go on, Luanne. Show this town there's a braider in the family.
I'm not scared of you. This time I'll beat you at your own game.
Miss Kremzer!
Someone!
HANK: It's the bridge, isn't it?
The bridge is the symptom. Thread asymmetry is the disease.
[Sniffing]
Smells like bellybutton.
My son was playing it with a piece of cheese.
You mean, like Celery Head?
"Look, I'm Camembert Humperdinck."
Les.
Go in the back and alphabetize the guitar strings.
- Alphabetize by letter, or... - Les.
- Okay. - All right.
Cheese or not, this is a sweet, sweet guitar.
- Is she for sale? - Not hardly. Just fix the bridge, Earl.
[Sighing] I didn't think so.
Most guys would sell their wives before they'd sell a guitar like this.
I got to remember that one.
Heck, I got a million of them, like:
"Women are a lot like a guitar.
"They both come with strings attached."
Actually, those are the only two.
Most women would be threatened by Betsy.
But not me, I don't care.
I'd like to see that guitar come home...
and chicken-fry a steak after substitute-teaching all day.
Why, thank you, Mrs. Hillman.
BILL: Santy Claus. HANK: What are you talking about?
Santy Claus. He could be the boy's hero.
In one 24-hour period, he delivers toys and joy to every child on Earth.
Santa Claus is for babies!
You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch.
[Grunting]
[Groaning]
Damn Russian titanium alloy.
[Birds chirping]
[Bill clearing throat]
[Sighs]
Maybe it's just first-hole jitters. Got any tips, Boomhauer?
[Muttering] I'll tell you what you do. You just keep that arm straight.
You put your left hand still, man. Just speed it the hell up.
HANK: Let's roll. Come on, Bobby.
Oh, man! I'm out of cigarettes!
BOOMHAUER: Dang, y'all just hit the hedges. Fore!
Mr. Gribble, who's your all-time hero?
You are, if you get me some smokes.
So, the stripper says to the priest...
Bill, the boy.
[Stammering]
She says, "I decided to repent...
"and become a nun."
[Laughing] A dang old nun, man. I tell you what, man.
BOOMHAUER: That's funny. BOBBY: Hey, Dad, watch this.
HANK: No, son. Don't.
[Whistling]
DALE: All right, Bobby!
HANK: Well, I'll be.
HANK: Son, you just might be the next Lee Trevino.
Without the crazy accent.
Tell you what, I'm going to let you tee off on this hole.
Okay.
That's okay, Bobby. You can do it. Just choke up on it.
And swing less like a girl.
[Screaming]
[Gasping]
- Can I get a do-over? - Bobby, hop in!
Hank, dispose of the witnesses.
Dale, come back here!
Willie Nelson!
Check his pockets for cigarettes.
HANK: Willie Nelson! Oh, my Lord, are you okay?
- Am I bleeding from the ears? - No.
I must be okay, then.
Oh, Mr. Nelson, I am so sorry!
My boy is new to golfing. Oh, gosh!
I'm your biggest fan. I go to every concert I can.
I've been to every Farm Aid, except one.
I don't much care for that Bryan Adams.
Damn! I wish I had my guitar here with me for you to sign. Here.
Why don't you make it out to, let's say, "To my best friend."
No, I don't want you to lie. "To my good friend."
"To my number one fan, Hank Hill."
Hey, Willie! You know, I play guitar, too.
I also play golf. But you already know that.
But you probably don't know, you're my hero.
He took our cart.
- Was he bleeding from the ears? - No.
- He must be okay, then. - You don't understand.
A man only gets a chance to meet Willie Nelson once in his life.
It's supposed to be special.
We meet on the golf course. He compliments my perfect swing.
We start talking about music, cut an album, go on tour...
open a chicken franchise.
How's that going to happen now?
It's my fault for ever taking the boy with me.
I said I was sorry.
Are you Hank Hill?
Yes.
BOBBY: I'm tired of being a lack of focus. I'm going to show them I can do better.
I'm going to make my dad proud.
I'm gonna not tell Dad about that.
[Fancy doorbell chiming]
[Grunting]
- Hey, is that Ben Crenshaw Turbo Golf? - Yeah.
I can never get it past the bunker on the third hole.
Try letting it go just below the mark on your drive.
Hey, I know you. You're the kid that rakes my lawn.
No, I'm the kid who hit you in the head.
- With a rake? - No, with a golf club.
You been raking my yard with a golf club? I want my quarter back.
[Phone rings]
HANK: Hill residence. BOBBY: Dad, guess where I am?
I don't know. Let's see.
Crushing Dwight Yoakam's voice box with my five iron?
BOBBY: I'm at Willie Nelson's. And he wants you to come over.
Son, you're teasing the gorilla in the monkey house.
WILLIE: Willie Nelson here. Practically blind in one eye now.
WILLIE: But I got your son here. HANK: I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Nelson.
Bobby's never stalked anyone before, and he's not very good at it.
I mean, he shouldn't be stalking anybody.
I'll come get him right away.
[Cheerful country music playing]
[Kids laughing]
HANK: Bobby!
Out of my way, rooster-boy.
[Guitar strumming]
Betsy?
HANK: What the... BOBBY: Hey, Dad!
Hey, Hank. Bobby's been telling me all about you.
I hear you're a guitar player, and that you got a narrow urethra.
Bobby!
- And he had me autograph your guitar. - You signed my guitar?
"To my number-one fan, Willie Nelson."
LUANNE: "The fox chases the rabbit around the tree trunk and..."
[Phone rings]
I was so close!
[Sobbing]
PEGGY: Hill residence. HANK: You'll never guess!
I'm at Willie Nelson's house. He says we're all invited to his barbecue.
Gee, I'd love to come.
But Ann Richards and I are doing our toenails.
WILLIE: I don't think so, I'm looking at her right now...
and she's playing tetherball with one of my roadies.
HANK: See? That was him.
Oh, my Lord! What do I wear?
HANK: It doesn't matter. Wear any old thing.
Just don't forget to bring Betsy's orange, woven shoulder strap.
Betsy sure is a beaut, Hank. I think Trigger's getting jealous.
Why, thank you, Willie. It sure means a lot coming from you.
You know what they say:
"I'd sell my wife before I'd sell my guitar."
[Muttering] I tell you what, you did that old Mr. Tambourine Man...
talk about "Come play a song for me."
Then you changed your name to Zimmerman...
and y'all born again.
[Muttering] A whole bunch of kids are going around.
Mad Dog Denim going platinum. Who knows?
Accounting firms and dang old Boomhauer.
Ma'am, you're going to want to angle that glass.
- You're blowing it. - You're gonna get nothing but foam.
Yep.
Mr. Hopper, I just loved you in that movie.
- The one where you played a mad villain? - Come on, Peggy, you wild thing.
Let's drive straight down to Mexico. Come on. Right this minute.
Mexico. I wonder what a wife goes for down there.
One guitar? Two guitars? I will have to ask Hank.
[Speaking Spanish]
He's not treating you right, Peggy. A delicate flower like you.
Do you want me to kick his ass?
You are so sweet to offer, Dennis.
But Hank would flatten you out like a bug.
No. This is something Peggy Hill has to handle on her own.
[Hollering]
You go, girl!
That's some boy you got there, Hank.
[Grunting]
It's nice of you to say that.
But Bobby's got no direction in life, no heroes.
When I was his age, I worshipped you.
Well, and Jesus, of course.
- Ever think you're too tough on the boy? - I don't know.
Just today, he chipped Betsy's bridge, ran into my truck with the mower...
dinged up my favorite wedge, and then dinged you up worse.
Hold on there. You think about it.
Bobby wants to play your guitar, ride your mower...
and swing your golf club.
I believe that kid does have a hero. And his name is Hank Hall.
Hill.
Yeah, right.
Bobby.
Bobby!
- What? - I just want to thank you for...
helping me meet my hero, and having him sign my guitar.
I helped him put ointment in his eye.
I'm going to show you something you can do with a guitar...
that doesn't involve cheese.
This is a song I wrote a long time ago.
Well, I know a gal with a purty leg
She's a gal who can fry my egg
And her name is Peg-gy
Well, Peggy-Peg, Peggy-Peg
Peg-a-leg
Oh, Peggy, my Peg-a-leg
Well, I love you, and I love you, Peggy-Peg
Well...
Then it just sort of goes off into a Buddy Holly riff.
- Oh, Hank. - Peggy!
I didn't realize you were there. Here, Bobby. Go practice.
BOBBY: Are you sure it's okay for me? HANK: Git!
I was headed over here to knock you six ways from Sunday with that guitar.
Then I get here and you're playing that old song of yours, and...
I love you, Propane Man.
You braided that perfect, Luanne.
But next time lighten up a little on the glitter spray.
HANK: What's that chord you hit on the...
You just got to hold it just a little longer before you go to F.
HANK: Now? WILLIE: That's a good spot, yeah.
WILLIE: Do it again.
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