[Captioning sponsored by FOX BROADCASTING COMPANY
Bobby Hill, what are you doing?
I'm ironing underwater.
Blurp, blurp, blurp.
Don't test me, young man.
I've failed funnier kids than you.
All right, children
irons down.
With the help of Ernie the janitor
I have soiled each of these cheerleader uniforms.
Your take-home exam is to identify and remove
the mystery stain
and here's one for our class clown.
Oh, wait, let me give you
some extra credit.
If it's Monday night, it must be
Frito pie with Wolf-brand chili.
I made it just the way you like it... perfect.
Come on, Bobby, it's Frito pie
with Wolf-brand chili night.
What the...?
There better be
a naked cheerleader under your bed.
Don't get mad, but I think I'm going to fail Home Ec.
Well, of course
you're failing Home Ec... You're a guy.
Did you know your son is taking Home Ec?
They got him playing with skirts!
If Bobby learns to cook and clean for himself
what's his motivation to ever get married?
Home Ec is not going to turn Bobby into a sissy.
In prison movies, the toughest characters
always work in the kitchen.
I wouldn't worry, Hank.
When I was the, uh
varsity football towel manager
I cleaned 50 jockstraps a week.
I turned out okay.
Hey, man, nice shot.
Man, hey no, nothing but ice.
Oh, please.
When I was the, uh, varsity football towel manager
I once slang-shot a jockstrap
into a laundry hamper from 50 yards away.
Betcha a million dollars you can't do that again.
You're on!
Oh! Hah!
You choked.
You owe me a million dollars.
Choker!
Uh!
Choker!
Dad says that men install washing machines
they service washing machines
but they aren't supposed to use washing machines.
Oh, please.
There's no rule that says only women
can do housework and only men can have careers.
I can do both.
I am what the magazines call a superwoman.
I like Superwoman.
Oh, Bobby, thank you.
Now let's take a look at your homework.
When we're done with it, this stain is going to wish
it was still some cheerleader's lunch.
First, you blind-side it with pre-soak.
Then you sucker-punch it with some hot water
and just when it's begging for mercy
you rip off its head and pour bleach down its neck.
Finish it off, Bobby!
Are you going to let that stain call you a sissy?!
No!
I know it's not even Thanksgiving yet
but it feels like Christmas morning.
Well, it's full of holes
but you did get the stains out...
mostly.
Uh-oh.
Bobby, these are your father's dungarees!
How could you, Peggy?
Now what am I gonna carve the turkey in... my underwear?
Not with an electric knife, no sir.
Even world-famous surgeons do not get it right 100% of the time.
They make mistakes, Hank.
People die.
We are human.
Ms. Bittner, I'm not going to lie to you.
I don't think I heard one thing you've said all year
especially whatever you said about bleach.
Can you help me fix my dad's pants?
He can't wear one of your clever jokes?
Please, Ms. Bittner, I've never asked for anything from you
except more sugar.
Ooh, fancy!
Hey, Hank, how's it going at the bank?
How the hell should I know?
On a related fiscal note, Bill
where's the million bucks you owe me?
Oh, right, Dale, yeah.
Suitable for framing.
There you go... $1 million!
I guess I'll have to sell my private island
in the South Pacific, huh?
You never go anyway.
Dad, would you like to wear jeans to work today?
You know I would.
Look what I got!
I got a bolt of denim from Ms. Bittner.
I used your old jeans as a pattern and I fired up
Mom's sewing machine.
My sewing machine?
No, it can't make seams this straight.
Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to try them on.
Well, all right, Bobby!
They're perfect.
I mean, they're a little stiff
but after I break 'em in for a couple years
they'll be perfect.
Hang on, I picked up a little trick in Home Ec.
I hope you don't mind...
I borrowed your power sander.
Peggy, he's right.
I can feel the denim loosening up.
I'm glad you ruined my jeans.
Bobby's made them even better.
Bobby, eight hours and no chafing!
I know what I'm leading off with
in my Thanksgiving prayer.
Three, two, one, mark!
Buns in the oven!
Oh, then you're not just sewing in Home Ec...
They've got you cooking too, huh?
I hope you don't mind
but I opened a bottle of your wedding wine
to marinate my pot roast.
Well, just make sure when you're done playing
your mother has her kitchen back.
It's Tuesday night pork chops, you know.
Yes, Bobby, I can handle the heat
so get out of my kitchen, because with pork
the slightest mistake could kill us all.
I'd like to cash this for cash.
A thousand thousands will be fine.
Most of the million dollar checks we see are jokes.
Your job sounds fun.
I'm sorry, Mr. Dauterive only has $418.75.
Okay, then give me 400 Sacagawea coins
18 Susan B. Anthonys
two North Carolina quarters and a Utah.
Yep... tastes like Tuesday.
Thank you, Hank.
Say, that smells pretty good.
Thanks, Dad.
Could you sign this form
saying I cooked it myself and that it tasted okay?
Yeah, I'll help you with your homework.
Hank, you will spoil your appetite.
Mm, no, no, it's okay.
Let's eat Bobby's pot roast now
while it's still juicy.
Your pork chops will be just as good tomorrow.
No, no, no.
Wednesday is spa-peggy and meatballs day.
You can't have pork chops on Wednesday.
That would throw off the whole rotation.
Wednesday.
You would not have believed it, Nancy.
He ate that pot roast like...
like it was my pork chops
and my pork chops were sitting right there!
What you need, sug, is an unfair advantage.
It's the library's, so try not to get anything on it.
A homemaking magazine?
Oh, no, no thank you, I have never needed to...
Well, that is the most beautiful Thanksgiving centerpiece
I have ever seen.
Hey, Peggy.
Uh, why's the table covered with yard waste?
Hank, it is not yard waste.
Or it will not be when I get through with it.
It will be our new stunning Thanksgiving centerpiece...
Made entirely of yard waste!
Ew, don't touch it, Bobby.
Those nests could be full of fleas and ticks.
Not if you take the birds out.
They'll build another nest.
They're not just going to let their eggs
sit there on the sidewalk.
Okay, Ernst is done removing the parasites
but he cannot comb out
the dark sadness that entangles you.
What's up with that?
Ernst, imagine
if the man you loved found someone else
to cook for him, and clean for him
and make his pants.
Who is this other woman?
The other woman is my son.
He may be getting an A in Home Ec
but at what cost, huh?
At what cost to me?
Cooking and cleaning and sewing...
I did not hear you mention the boudoir.
I can think of many things to be done there for Hank.
Well, I am an excellent lover.
And Ernst is an excellent hair stylist.
Together let us take your husband places
from our wildest dreams!
Sorry, sir, but you have more food than money.
Okay, I don't need cling wrap.
This is my whole Thanksgiving dinner
and who am I kidding
there aren't going to be any leftovers!
Um, you're still over.
Oh.
But, but...
you can't take my turkey.
Still over.
This circular saw cozy fits great, son
but can we call it something else?
Hey, how about a circular saw buddy?
You name it and I'll knit it!
Hey, Peggy!
Bobby made me a circular saw buddy.
Whoa, your hair looks great.
It's so big.
Well, I hope it's not too tall
to get through the bedroom door, Hank.
Well, the doorway's got a seven-foot clearance.
Dinner!
Dinner?
When it got to be 5:00 and you weren't home
I asked Bobby to whip something up.
Well, that's a good idea.
The sooner we eat
the sooner we can get to... dessert.
I think Bobby made pie.
Ugh, I probably should've stopped at seconds.
I'm not usually a big fan of cheese
but boy, the things Bobby does with it...
I have an idea how we can burn off some calories, Hank.
What's wrong?
Is Bobby's cooking coming up on you?
I think it's all that beauty stuff in your hair.
It kind of has that new car smell.
Boy, that cheese! Mm!
Hank, what is going on?
The fumes coming off your hair keep waking me up.
You don't smell like a new car.
I just said that to make you feel better.
Bobby, put away your robot and go to bed.
I need the couch.
Your father's feeling ill.
I think it was something he ate.
Why don't you just take my bed?
I've got a lot of work to do out here.
Agh! Was this ever an outdoor couch?
Okay, fine, I will sleep in your bed
right under your booger wall.
I thought I heard an upholstery shampooer.
Maybe you could use that thing to get the smell
out of your mother's side of the bed.
Have you seen her?
She was looking for a place to sleep
so I let her have my bed.
Well, where are you going to sleep?
I'll just crash on the couch.
It's still a little wet
but it gives me an excuse to sleep in my poncho.
No, no, your mother's bed is empty.
Why don't you just bunk with me in the big bedroom?
I'll make caramel popcorn!
I'll turn on the TV.
It's such a clear night
we might be able to pick up the news from San Antonio.
Their sports guy played for the Oilers for a year.
I didn't know your bed was made of two little beds.
Well, your mother likes her mattress firm
and I like mine extra firm.
So I guess it's true, opposites attract.
Check it out... the weather girl
is looking at the wrong camera.
San Antonio.
And it's going to rain tomorrow.
Why would anyone live there?
You know who'd get a kick out of this?
Ladybird!
Come here, girl!
That Miss Piggy balloon
has the same hairdo as your mother.
Hey, Peggy.
Well, maybe for you it is.
Oh, I was expecting you to say, "Good morning."
So...
did you sleep well?
Not really.
Bobby and I were up all night talking...
really, really talking.
So, that's where it went.
Perfect!
Hank, come in here, quick!
Look what I found in Bobby's bed.
Mm-hmm, it's a ladies' magazine
and that is not my opinion.
It says so right in the title.
You were right about Home Ec, Hank...
It's ruining Bobby.
Every perfume ad has been scratched and sniffed
and his horoscope says
that this is a good week for him
to meet the man of his dreams.
If you ask me, Hank, that boy ain't right.
Bobby, get in here. Now.
What's up, Dad?
Son, do you think you could make
this buttermilk-basted turkey?
Well, that recipe takes 24 hours.
Good thing I started on it last night.
I just thought you were getting up
to use the bathroom a lot.
You know what?
Let's have Bobby handle the whole meal.
What?! But-but every year I...
This year the only thing you have to do is get hungry.
Just kick back on the couch
now that it's fit to sit on.
Oh, Dad...
where's the turkey platter?
I want to start on the radish roses.
It's in the garage, in a box marked:
"winter holiday poultry serving dishes."
Here, I'll help you find it.
Mom, you mind popping my bird in?
Don't worry, the racks are set
and the oven's already preheated.
It's idiot-proof.
They do not deserve us.
Oh... boxed in!
Did I fix my roof in the last few days?
Well, it still looks pretty bad, so maybe.
Why?
I can't buy any Thanksgiving food
because my bank account is empty
and... and I can't remember what I spent it on.
It's empty because I cashed your check, Bill
which did not clear for the full million dollars.
But that check was a joke, just like the bet.
It was a joke... I laughed.
We had a legitimate oral contract
entered into fully and freely
when I said, "Betcha"
and you said, and I quote, "You're on."
Dale, stop talking like a lawyer
and give Bill his money back.
What's the point?
Bill would probably just go
and spend it on something stupid, like himself.
Peggy?
Oh, I see my haircut was a success!
Your Hank, he ravaged you last night, yes?
Tell me, what did you do to him?
I stole his turkey is what I did.
I would rather share it with a man who needs me
a man who is also alone on Thanksgiving
because of the stigma society attaches
to his unconventional sexual appetites.
Get in here, you drama queen.
Tell me, tell me, who is this mystery man?
Who the hell is she?
Peggy Hill, this is my wife Claudia
and my little angel Brett.
You have a family that loves you?
Hank Hill. Happy Thanksgiving.
Hank, this is Ernst.
I hope you're sitting down
for the bombshell I am about to drop.
Last chance to sit.
Is this about the smell in Peggy's hair?
This is not about some smell that you are imagining.
Peggy is here with your turkey.
They are both bruised and broken.
Son of a gun!
Your mother took the turkey and ran off to her hairdresser's.
You have made her
feel useless in her own house.
Now she is at my house
laying face down in a puddle of her own self-esteem.
Pull her out before she drowns!
I breast-fed my Bobby.
Big mistake.
Bobby...
I need you to do two things
I pray you'll never have to do again.
Tape the Cowboys' game
and give me an apron.
Hello, Peggy.
I'm sorry I'm so underdressed, Hank.
I see you and Bobby decided to go formal.
No, I sent Bobby to the neighbors
but first, we whipped up some of our favorite dishes.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Fried pork chops?
Frito pie with Wolf-brand chili?
Spa-peggy with meatballs?
And a half a bottle
of our wedding wine.
You don't even need me to make spa-peggy?
Nope, I guess not
but that's okay.
I didn't marry you
because I need someone to cook and clean for me.
I married you because... you know...
you know...
The love.
Oh, Hank!
Mmm, your hair smells much better now.
Like stuffing.
Bobby, this is the best Thanksgiving dinner I ever had.
Ooh-hoo-ooh, let's do the wishbone!
This is for a million dollars.
Okay.
I won! I won!
You owe me a million dollars!
Correction:
You owe me a million dollars.
I'm so sorry, Bobby, he made me do it!
It was all a setup.
Boy, that cheese. Mm.