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Ripped By mstoll
DONNA: I'm starting to worry.
Mr. Strickland's been in his office
with the door shut for more than an hour.
Maybe he's passed out drunk on his mini-toilet.
Maybe he's stone-cold dead.
Dang it, I'm going in.
Take the defibrillator, honey.
People, I've been on the horn
with the National Propane Gas Consortium.
Y'all are looking
at the newest inductee into the Propane Hall of Flame.
Oh, my Lord, sir.
That's the highest achievement possible in propane.
I'm at the top of the mountain all right.
And you're my... What do you call them goat men
that keep you from freezing to death?
You're his Sherpa, honey.
That's right, and to show my appreciation,
I want you to introduce me at the induction ceremony
at the national convention next week in Memphis.
This is the greatest honor I will ever know.
Let's celebrate.
Who wants breakfast whiskey?
(Joe Jack and Donna cheer)
Tell me about the sport coat again, Dad.
The Hall of Flame honoree gets to wear a special blazer
at the induction ceremony.
It's graduated in color like a flame itself...
Bright blue at the bottom, then bright red,
then bright orange, then bright yellow,
and then bright white at the shoulders and collar.
Do you get to wear one, too?
No, son.
Standing next to Buck Strickland in his moment of glory is
probably as close as I'll ever get
to wearing the rainbow blazer.
The rainbow blazer.
I don't know, Peggy,
this is the greatest moment in Strickland Propane history,
but what if Buck blows it?
What if he gives in to his appetites?
PEGGY: Do not worry, Hank.
You have kept him out of trouble for 23 years.
If anyone can shield Buck Strickland from booze
and women at a convention in a good-time town, it's you,
but if you need me for backup, I am an expert fun-blocker.
Yeah, between the two of us,
we can handle Buck.
(grunting)
I can't believe I'm really here.
This is my Super Bowl, Peggy.
Mr. and Mrs. Hill?
I'm Melanie Scovall.
I'll be your convention liaison.
Now where's the man of honor, Mr. Strickland?
Ugh, I've lost visual contact.
Red alert, Peggy.
I'll check the bar.
Oh, there he is.
Stand at attention, men.
Hall of Flamer coming through.
(chuckles)
The years have been good to you, John.
You're a more distinguished kind of ugly.
(both laughing)
Peggy, I think I was worried about Buck for nothing.
It's past noon, he's not drunk,
and he's got people eating out of his hand.
This right here is Hall of Flame Buck Strickland.
Honey, you are doing fine without me.
I have a ladies' prayer breakfast to attend.
MAN (over P.A.): Please don't forget to register
for the grand prize in our raffle.
Strickland Propane?
Aw, shoot, I requested a booth next to the men's room.
This can't be right.
Good Lord, sir,
there are two Strickland Propanes.
Strickland Propane... Arlen, Texas...
And Strickland Propane... Gatlinburg, Tennessee.
Thank y'all for visiting Strickland Propane.
Don't taste the heat; taste the meat.
Dang it.
What in the Sam Hill is going on here?
You're using my name and about 90% of my slogan.
Are you the great Buck Strickland?
None other. Who're you?
Sir, I've waited all my life to meet you.
I'm your bastard son.
Well, I'll be dogged.
(chuckles nervously)
Hank, this here's my son... er, uh, Ray?
Uh, Roy?
Uh, Ray Roy?
My name's Jody, but you can call me whatever you want.
The important part of my name is Strickland.
Well, Ray Roy,
what do you say to your old man buying you a drink?
Just one? Shoot, I'm ready to drink you broke.
But sir, uh, w-we've got to set up our booth.
Cover for me.
So what's the bastard like?
(sighs)
Well, the apple didn't fall far
from Mr. Strickland's tree, I tell you what.
They hadn't been together two minutes
when they went off drinking.
I'm afraid I might have to keep 'em apart
for the good of Buck and Strickland Propane.
Hmm, you want to keep Buck Strickland
away from his own son.
Admit it, Hank, you're jealous.
You just want to be the bastard son
Buck Strickland never had but apparently did.
Why would I want to be Buck's son
when I'm his assistant manager?
Hmm, translation: "Love me, Daddy."
WOMAN (over P.A.): Don't forget to register
for the grand prize in our raffle.
(sighing): Thank goodness you're back.
I was getting worried.
There's my body spray.
Come on, Pop.
Let's get back in the funk.
You got it, turkey.
W-Wait, wait, sir, where are you going?
Oh, we going to, uh...
Son, what's the bad part of Memphis called?
Memphis.
Yeah, that's where we headed.
But sir, people are coming here to see you.
Mr. Strickland,
we've got a reception in the Crystal Room at 3:00 p.m.
where you'll be the guest of honor.
You hear that, sir? 3:00.
He'll be there.
Well, lookie-lookie, there goes a tookie.
Sorry, Papa got dibs on that one.
Stand in line, squirt.
Whatever you say, Pop.
Let's smack this town's bottom.
Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!
Sir, we're in the middle of important...
(sighs)
This your first ladies' prayer breakfast?
Yes, it is.
I'll let you in on a little secret.
The object here isn't to get close to the Lord.
It's to get close to the Platinum Circle.
Ah, yes, the first ladies of propane.
Tru Wigant, Wendy Fortner,
Jane Ann Kuykendall, and... wait.
Where's Bebe Wren?
Oh, she's not a wife now.
She's an owner...
ever since her husband Buddy dropped dead
at the carving station at The Brown Cow.
(gasps)
So the Platinum Circle has an opening? Hmm...
WOMAN (over P.A.): Be sure to register at the hospitality desk in the west...
DALE: Buck Strickland a no-show?
No problem.
Meet friends of Buck Strickland.
I'm sorry Buck's not here, Ms. Scovall.
He was at a Q and A session, and, uh,
wouldn't you know he got more "Q" s than he bargained for.
I'll see that he shows up from now on.
Your boss should take conventions more seriously.
The United States Constitution was written at a convention.
This is Mr. Strickland's Hall of Flame jacket.
I'm entrusting you with it until the ceremony tomorrow night.
Do not make me regret it.
The rainbow blazer.
I am Peggy Hill.
My husband Hank is introducing
the newest Hall of Flame inductee, Buck Strickland.
I'm supposed to be impressed?
My husband Pollard is the president
of the National Propane Gas Consortium.
Okay.
I am bested but not rattled.
Peggy, you had the guts to sit there.
You can stay till your luck runs out.
Deal me in.
Shirley Temple, meet Mr. Roy Rogers.
(glasses clink)
Ah... yeah.
Look at that fool,
looking all around like, like a stupid squirrel.
That's my dad.
Buck, Buck.
You didn't show up
for your meet-and-greet.
Yeah, I was meeting and greeting a few cocktail waitresses.
Look, I know you want to spend time with your son...
The cat's in the cradle and whatnot...
But the prestige of the Hall of Flame comes
with certain obligations.
(horn honks)
Come on, Daddy, we got us a lady sandwich.
Well, Hank, got to skedaddle.
(whooping)
Buck and Ray Roy are getting out of control.
Peggy, they mooned Elvis's grave
and his poor little dead twin brother Jesse.
Well, you'd better figure out a way to handle those two.
While not impossible, you cannot count
on one of them to choke on his own vomit.
Mr. Strickland, we need to talk.
Oh, for crying out loud,
it's, it's, well, it's 2:00 in the afternoon.
Yes, in six hours, you're supposed to be inducted
into the Propane Hall of Flame,
and I'm not sure you're going to make it.
I'm not sure you should.
Dang it, I'm trying, Hank,
but I've got to make it up to my boy
for neglecting him all these years.
He got into propane 'cause of me.
So did I, sir.
I am violating all kinds of protocol here,
but I want you to try on this jacket.
Well, that feels nice.
If you want to wear the jacket,
you've got to live the jacket.
All right, Ol' Top,
I'll straighten up.
(whooping and grunting)
Gotdog! Ray Roy!
Now, I hope you got two girls in there!
What the...?!
I told you to stand in line!
You didn't stand in line, boy!
Hell, Daddy, that line was moving too slow.
I just had to do cut-sies!
Cut... Why you son of a...
(grunting)
(grunting and muttering)
Oh, no.
(shouting)
(blow landing)
Yeah!
Yeah! RAY ROY: Ow!
(whooping)
Ow!
(grunts)
I have had enough!
Oh, Hank, we were just letting off a little steam.
I have tried with all my might
to save you from yourself, Mr. Strickland.
Well, not anymore.
You're on your own.
You should be ashamed of yourselves.
And that includes you, Ms. Scovall.
You have not honored propane.
He's right.
I should be ashamed of myself.
But I never am.
Hey, Hank.
(sniffing)
Long Island iced tea?
I can't believe those words came out of your mouth.
Or did you point to the menu?
How did it go down?
Keep an eye on your friend.
He's tore up pretty bad.
Usually, it's a woman involved, but apparently,
a couple of dudes named Strickland did it to him.
I don't ever want to hear the name Strickland again.
What are you talking about?
This whole thing is because your name isn't Strickland.
You think I'm jealous of Buck and Ray Roy?
Who cares?
I sure don't.
Now, Hank, that's just the rum and tequila
and vodka and gin talking.
I'm gonna give that S.O.B. an introduction
he'll never forget.
We're here to honor one of the giants of Texas propane,
Mr. Buck Strickland.
To introduce Mr. Strickland, his right-hand man, Hank Hill.
(applause)
(slurred): I'm not gonna say...
Hell, I am gonna say what I have been wanting to say.
Buck Strickland is a monster.
A drunk monster.
Buck Strickland is nothing but a lecherous,
disgusting, bastard-making bastard...
(mumbles gibberish)
And now I'm going to vomit.
(loud retching)
God, I don't know what happened.
I just snapped.
Now the Board of Governors is having a special session
this afternoon to determine my punishment.
It is just not right
that Buck Strickland has been a drunken boor his whole life,
and you, his white knight, are the one who's in trouble.
I am so sorry, Peggy.
I guess this has probably put you in a tough spot
with the Platinum Circle.
Yeah, well, that dream died
when you threw up in Tru Wigant's hair.
But I am not gonna let your career die.
Daddy...
I-I feel awful about trading paint
with what's-her-face.
Oh, hell, son, if we can get past me abandoning you
and never supporting you, we can get past this.
What do you say we call it even?
Fair enough.
(glasses clink)
Oh, hell, this ain't gonna be good.
Because of your shameful behavior,
my husband is in danger
of losing all he has ever worked for.
Hank has devoted his entire adult life
to you and your company.
He is your company.
Without him, there is no Strickland Propane.
Well, there is the one in Tennessee.
Save it, Junior.
You're punching the heavy bag.
You two put Hank in this position.
You're gonna fix it.
All right, boy, we got to fix it.
Yeah. We need some schnapps to help us think!
Let's get the hell out of here, boy!
(dog barking in distance)
(both panting)
(wheezing)
Damn! My breath stinks like blood and peppermint.
(grunts, spits)
(Spits)
Maybe this is why Mama never wanted us to get together.
Yeah, and why Hank was trying to keep us apart.
Oh, hell.
We forgot all about saving Hank's bacon.
All right, here's what we gonna do.
We gonna take us a hot shower and a little nap.
Then we're gonna fix things the way fellas like us fix things.
And then we ain't ever gonna see each other again.
Okay, Dad.
You know how to do a first-class hospitality suite, don't you?
I am your son, ain't I?
Mr. Hill,
your guilt hardly seems to be at issue.
So we can skip right on to the punishment phase, which...
I'll give you a preview... Will be severe.
Yes, sir.
I-I can't tell you how sorry I am.
(phone ringing)
Hello?
Buck.
Well, we're kind of in the middle
of our disciplinary hearing...
Like the one in '84?
Oh, very well, then.
We'll see you shortly.
That was Buck Strickland.
His hospitality suite is open.
Like the one in '84?
(laughs)
Mr. Hill, the Board of Governors needs to adjourn
to caucus about your case.
You stay put.
I won't move a muscle.
I will await your just decision.
(indistinct conversation)
Your husband is a disgrace.
I'm being frozen out.
I get it.
Look, as my way of saying
"I'm sorry for being married to such a horrible man,"
I would like to treat each and every one of you
to a spa afternoon.
Manis, pedis, facials.
Hair?
The works.
Done!
We sat in every chair in the hotel, dude!
(laughing): Yup.
(laughs)
Pollard, gentlemen,
welcome to the Strickland Hospitality Suite.
We got us a scrumptious selection
of desserts in the back room.
(music playing, women chattering)
Oh, hi! (giggling)
Yes, my husband made a mistake.
All propane men make mistakes sometimes.
Including some of your husbands.
I'm in my third term as president
of the Propane Gas Consortium.
Oh. (giggling)
BUCK: Well...
now that everybody's got a pretty girl in his lap,
I'd like to talk about leniency for my employee, Hank Hill.
Set up!
Everybody run!
Ray Roy, lock the door.
(all gasp)
Now, you're all reasonable men.
Surely you can find forgiveness in your hearts for old Hank
before your wives get here.
WOMAN: Uh-oh, lost my bikini top!
(giggling)
Ooh, gotcha!
(laughing) Ow!
(elevator bell dings)
Ooh!
Come down here.
Let me tickle you.
(camera shutter clicks)
(woman giggling)
You win, Buck.
(phone ringing)
Y'ello.
RAY ROY: Get their hair done.
POLLARD: Mr. Hill,
we had an opportunity
to talk with your employer, Buck Strickland.
He convinced us that not only
should your actions last night be forgiven,
your actions over your 20 years of service
are deserving of the highest honor.
He was very persuasive.
Accordingly,
the Board of Governors has voted unanimously to award you
this Hall of Flame jacket.
Does this mean?
I... Wait.
I'm in the Hall of Flame?
All of propane owes you a debt.
Most importantly, I owe you a debt.
Thanks, OI' Top.
Congratulations, Hank.
Here, let me help you with your jacket.
Well, Buck, I'll let you say good-bye to your son.
("Cat's in the Cradle" intro playing)
(sighs and sniffles)
Well, this is good-bye forever, right?
(sniffling): Forever, Dad.
♪ My child arrived just the other day ♪
♪ He came to the world in the usual way ♪
♪ But there were planes to catch and bills to pay ♪
♪ He learned to walk while I was away ♪
♪ And he was talkin' 'fore I knew it, and as he grew ♪
♪ He'd say, “I'm gonna be like you, Dad ♪
♪ You know, I'm gonna be like you ♪
♪ And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon ♪
♪ Little boy blue and the man on the moon... ♪
BUCK: My breath stinks like blood and peppermint.
Ripped By mstoll
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