It's a solid grill, and at this price...
Hey! I've been standing here for 45 minutes!
Ma'am, I'm the only one on the floor today,
so if you could just bear with me, I...
Mr. McKenna's delivery never came.
Mr. McKenna, we're a little short-handed...
Yeah, I understand you can't grill an excuse, sir, but I...
Well, sir, I disagree.
I don't think a monkey could do my job.
Hank!
Oh, Hank, I am so excited.
I just joined the planning committee
for the first annual Viva Los Arlentinos Day.
Well, I'm glad you had a good day.
Mine's been just about the worst one I can remember.
We had no one on the sales floor...
It is a festival
celebrating Arlen's rich Hispanic heritage.
There will be an actual bull run!
Isn't that amazing?!
It could mean a lot
of substitute Spanish teaching gigs.
Hank, I want you to join the committee and help out.
What do you say?
Peggy, I'm exhausted.
I don't have time for some harebrained bull run.
Well, then, I guess I won't have time
to prepare your dinner tonight.
Hill, why aren't you in the shower?
Uh, well, you know how I am in gym class.
I barely move.
Why shower if I don't sweat?
Ah, nice try.
That'll get you an "A" in debate,
but an "F" in gym.
Now, shower!
I always wanted to run with the bulls.
Sometimes when I'm being chased by dogs,
I pretend they're bulls.
Geez, Bill, why run with the bulls?
At your weight and cholesterol count,
if you want to hasten death,
just jump up and down a couple of times.
No, I want the bulls to do it.
Guys, I'm too tired
to hear a bunch of nonsense right now.
Bull runs are stupid.
They tried one in Mesquite last year.
The bulls kept stopping to eat grass off the sidewalk.
Things have changed, Hank.
Mesquite was a wake-up call.
Now they're pumping the bulls with testosterone,
a bona fide magic elixir of power.
It makes a creature bigger, faster,
meaner, and smarter.
Like Vin Diesel.
Exactly like Vin Diesel.
Our folks are gonna get trampled and gored
in a way those wussies in Mesquite
could only dream of!
Hey, Bobby.
Hey, Dad.
I'm supposed to ask you to sign this.
You're flunking P. E?
Well, how is that even possible?
Uh, well, I guess I'm just smaller than the other guys.
I can't keep up.
Son, P.E. Isn't about being strong or fast
or winning points.
That stuff only matters in...
well, every single other area of life.
But in P.E., all you have to do is try.
Okay, I'll try.
The boy's got no fight in him.
I don't get it.
He spends five hours a day playing violent video games.
What's the point if they don't have any effect on him?
Maybe he's missing something.
Like testosterone!
Dale...
It's the perfect explanation.
Testosterone provides everything Bobby's missing: Energy,
confidence, aggression, agility, muscle, speed.
Just give him a little extra to top him off,
Instant puberty.
I don't know.
Now, Joseph... he's bursting with testosterone.
Hey, Joseph, wanna wrestle?
Oh, God, it hurts!
It hurts so much!
Huh.
Bobby doesn't need testosterone.
He needs his father's acceptance.
If only his glands could secrete that.
Peggy, we're just taking a growing boy to a doctor.
There's nothing wrong with finding out if...
Hello?
What?!
I'll be there as soon as possible.
Donna's out sick.
Now I've gotta do all the bookkeeping
while I'm doing Joe Jack's and Enrique's jobs.
Dang it, dang it!
All the more reason this visit is a waste of time, Hank.
We should just...
Peggy, just drop it, okay?
Well, except for being incurably ticklish,
I'm a hundred percent healthy!
Bobby, good work!
Now, if you'll all excuse me,
it turns out what I gave in the sample cup
was only half the story.
So you couldn't find anything
wrong with him, Doctor?
Nope.
He's developing at a perfectly normal rate.
Uh-huh. But shouldn't we be giving him
maybe just a little testosterone,
just to top him off?
You know, jump-start that puberty?
Yes, Mr. Hill, testosterone can "jump-start' puberty,
but I don't give radical hormone therapy
to young boys who happen to be mediocre at dodge ball.
Testosterone is most commonly prescribed
to men in their 40s with Irritable Male Syndrome.
Irritable what who?
Irritable Male Syndrome, or IMS.
It's the male equivalent of PMS.
There's a PMS for men?
Oh, God.
Look, we don't have time to talk politics.
I've gotta get to work.
Men's testosterone levels fluctuate wildly throughout each day.
In some men, it can cause lethargy, anxiety, irritability.
You have Irritable Male Syndrome!
What?!
This is why you didn't want
to help me with Viva Los Arlentinos Day.
This is why you've been grouchy and sluggish and...
Dang it, Peggy, that's ridiculous!
I'm just stressed about my work.
Well, the stress you're feeling at work
could be a result of IMS.
It's nothing to be ashamed of.
Just think of it like you're having your menses.
Hank, I'm going to write you
a prescription for a low-dosage testosterone supplement.
Go ahead and try it for a few...
I don't need testosterone.
I just need you two to get off my got-dang back.
Let's go, Bobby.
We're done with this jackass festival.
Testosterone could've elevated Hank's mood,
improved his whole outlook.
Well, I should probably, uh,
turn my back and file a chart or something.
Got-dang it!
I'm out of clean socks!
Got-dang it!
Breakfast is ready!
Well, Bobby, I've scheduled a conference
with your P.E. Teacher so we can discuss the problem.
Oh, my God, Dad!
Don't do that!
I... I forbid it!
Dang it. What is going on with you?!
Don't forget about your coffee, Hank.
Okay, the real reason I'm failing P.E. Is...
I won't take a shower with the other guys!
I can't!
Bobby, do not lay this trip on your father
while he's trying to enjoy his coffee.
He's stressed enough without you interrupting
his coffee-drinking time.
All right, Hank, you're free to drink your coffee.
Would you forget about the coffee?
Bobby, no one wants to take a shower after gym.
It's not fun, it's not pleasant,
and usually not very sanitary,
but you do it anyway.
Why?
Because a big part of being a man
is doing things you don't want to do.
But there's a way to get through it:
You just lower your eyes to the floor and count the tiles.
In my day, there were 60.
Count the tiles.
I'll do it.
Well, I guess I'm off, too.
Wait, Hank!
Don't forget your coffee.
Yeah, I'm gonna need it for the day I'm facing.
And I made you some more for later.
Drink it six hours from now, with a meal.
Do not mix it with alcohol.
Hey, dude, is that a pimple or another nipple?
I'll take that "F."
Ta-da!
I'll take it.
You said you were helping me next.
Does that look like me?
Ma'am, I am going to do whatever it takes to make you happy.
Here's the 20-second tour of the store.
Are you gettin' happy?
A little...
Yep.
Mm-hmm.
Y...
Got-dang right!
So it turns out, I am not the actual Dale Gribble
but a clone of him.
The original me is a super-warrior
from the year 2087.
The second me, i.e., "I" was created to help the first me
fight the invading Mongol armies.
Beer, please.
Dale, that's asinine, and here's four reasons why:
You're not gonna clone a super-warrior
out of a guy who can't even win a thumb-wrestling match.
But, I...
You've spent your life
swearing that the robots will exterminate the clones
by the end of 2010,
so which is it, robots or clones?
I suppose...
You've already said
you sympathize with the invading Mongolians of 2087,
so you'd be the last one they'd send to fight'em.
If you were from the future,
Yeah, man.
Hey, any of you guys feel like wrestling?
Even me?
Okay.
It just hurts so damn much! Ah!
Great chicken, Peggy.
Can we have some steak, too?
Well, you certainly seem to have a lot of energy, today.
Yep, and you know, this afternoon,
I was pumping some iron, and I was thinking
Arlentinos Day is gonna be great,
and I came up with nine ways you could expedite the workload.
Hank, I didn't even know you cared about my...
In fact, why don't I just go with you to the meeting tomorrow
so I can tell everyone my ideas?
I am upgrading your steak from Salisbury to sirloin.
Thanks, Peggy.
Got-dang it, I love you.
And I love you, too, son.
How was P. E?
Well, uh... you know.
I just went in there, in the shower,
like you said,
counted the tiles and got out.
That's great, Bobby.
Come on, let's go do some push-ups.
Huh?
Wh?
You know, Peggy, JAG is a rerun tonight.
Oh, Hank.
And so our bull run
will greatly resemble the legendary bull run
of Pamplona, Spain.
Except that with ours, the men and the bulls
will be separated at all times
by a 15-foot-high chain-link fence.
What? That's crazy!
Hank, the insurance is through the roof.
We do not have the funds for it.
If we put on a bull run with a safety fence,
our whole town will look like
a bunch of got-dang jackasses,
and I'll be got danged if I'm gonna let that happen!
Hank, easy.
If money's the problem, I'll raise it myself!
I'll run with the bulls, and I'll get every business
in the tri-county area to sponsor me.
That'll cover the insurance and then some.
Honey, you are amazing.
And in five days, he's already raised
half the insurance money for the bull run.
He is so energetic and confident and happy
and in shape and...
Oh, sug, he's having an affair.
Wha... Nancy, I can assure you,
whatever's going on with Hank,
is not being caused by another woman.
Sug, what else rejuvenates a middle-aged man like that?
An affair would explain everything.
Well, except for his pimples.
Oh, now, those are just a side effect.
Side effect?
From happiness.
You know, they're just little "zits of joy."
That iced tea ready?
Afternoon, ladies.
Oh, Hank, stop.
Hank, I've been watching you jump that thing
for three hours now.
I'm exhausted.
Yeah, you've trained enough.
Besides, in a bull run,
the only thing you'll have to jump over are mangled bodies.
I'm not done training, you idiot!
Now get on that lawn mower,
and pretend you're the bull. Now.
Okay.
Grr.
Is that all you got? C'mon!
Hey!
My God, Hank's getting right in the bull's face.
I'll kick your fat bull ass! C'mon!
Ow!
You play too rough!
I'm going home.
Who wants to take his place?
Talkin' about dang ol'
no thank you, man.
I have a lot of calls to return.
Well, fine, then.
I don't want training help from a bunch of wussies anyway.
'Sup?
Hank, I picked up some Clearasil for your acne.
Hey, where are you heading off to so fast?
Well, I have to get dinner ready.
Dinner can wait.
I say we hit the bedroom.
Hank, we can't fool around now.
Your dad is on his way over for dinner.
What?
Dang it, he always ruins everything!
Why does he have to be here?
I got my own house so I wouldn't have to deal with his crap.
Can you hear yourself?
Yeah, I can hear myself.
Can you hear this?
I never told you to secretly dope your husband.
Well, you didn't say not to, did you?
Medicine is no place for mixed signals, Doctor.
Peggy, the amount of testosterone
you've given Hank is dangerous.
You've effectively caused him
to go through puberty again.
Well, that explains the constant hair combing
and why he's hanging out at the mall all the time.
But don't worry, I have stopped cold turkey.
Whoa, don't do that.
When the body is given excessive testosterone,
it stops making its own.
Consequently, Hank's testicles may have shrunken
by as much as 20%.
Oh, my God.
This is just the kind of thing that upsets him.
And now, with no testosterone coming from pills
or from his own glands,
Hank's cognitive and physical abilities
will be severely impaired.
So you're saying that my husband will be soft, timid and weak,
and have defunct genitalia?
It's okay, Peggy.
He just needs to ease off the testosterone gradually.
Have him wear this for about a week.
It's a trans-scrotal patch.
Of course it is.
He'll affix it to his scrotum,
and testosterone will absorb into his system
at slow, steady levels.
And so it's come to this.
Ah, dang it.
I don't know what's wrong.
It's like somebody sucked all the life out of me.
Hank, I have to tell you something.
You what?!
Minh, come quick!
Hank and Peggy having old school, redneck,
domestic squabble on front lawn!
How could you, Peggy?
Oh, I bet she burn the meat loaf.
It caused what?
Why he point at his crotch like that?
20% shrinkage?!
You want me to put a patch on my what?!
Okay, this going in a weird direction now.
So over these last weeks,
all my energy, my strength,
my confidence, my happiness...
Completely meaningless, Hank.
I'm sorry.
I think I want to yell at you,
but I don't know if it's me or the hormones,
or the lack of 'em, or...
Hey, Hank!
I know you're already all pumped up
for the big bull run,
but I thought this tape might put you even more in the mood.
When Bull Gorings Go Bad.
You're a brave man, Hank.
Personally, I watched two minutes of it and vomited.
Check out the pictures on the back.
I suppose we'll have to call your sponsors
and tell them you can't run with the bulls tomorrow.
I'm sure they'll understand when I explain to them that you...
Oh...
No. I made a promise to those people.
Maybe you could wait a year.
You know, until you're full strength?
No, sir. Unless their checks bounced,
I'm running with the bulls.
But Hank, honey, everything's changed.
Now you aren't even able to...
I can still do everything, just not as well.
The only real difference is that now I'm scared.
But if you're scared, why?
Because a man does what he has to do.
You were scared to take a shower in gym class,
but you did it anyway.
Well, running with the bulls is my shower.
If you feel like you have to run tomorrow,
at least wear this.
There is no rule that says you can't.
No, Peggy, no more testosterone.
I'm not going through puberty again.
I didn't like it when I was 14,
and I didn't like it last week.
Your hormone level is so low
this will give you just enough to be normal.
Like when you were a man.
Mr. Hill, we are so grateful for
your enthusiasm and your bravery.
You have helped the Arlen Latin Heritage Society greatly.
Well, my pleasure.
Obviously, we wanted to say this to you now
in the event that you become dead
sometime within the next half hour.
Come on, Bobby, it's time to go to the parade!
Runners, take your places!
Hank!
Hank Hill! I demand that you put this on yourself, now!
Peggy, put that away!
Dad, don't run with the bulls!
You don't have to prove anything to me!
I lied to you! I never showered!
I was too scared!
You what?!
I'm sorry! I failed you!
That's why I'm not worth dying for!
Wear the patch, Hank!
Don't run, Dad!
Bobby, I'm running with the bulls,
and I'm gonna do it without the patch.
Between the drugging and the lying,
one of us in this family has got to show some
got-dang integrity!
Okay, Hank, macho!
Run, Hank!
All right, Hank!
This is the bravest thing I've ever seen in my entire life.
Just count the tiles.
One, two...
That's my soap.
Three, four...
Dudes, check me out.
I call this "eggs over easy."
Five, six...