Synopsis- Hank and the HologramsIn this fic, Starlight Music hires Stickland Propane to supply their heating needs with Propane. Being the best salesperson there is, Hank Hill is dispatched to Los Angeles so that he can install it for Starlight Music.
Hank Hill gets there just fine, and meets Jerrica Benton so that he can explain to her why Propane is the best choice for Starlight Music's heating needs, and she authorizes it and he goes to install it. He goes down to the basement and meets Rio, who decides to help Hank install the propane. Hank and Rio have to go back upstairs for something, and while they're away, Hank leaves the basement door open. The Misfits somehow sneak their way into Starlight Music and decide to wreck mayhem on the basement. They run downstairs and use random tools from Hank's toolbox to break things. Hank goes back to the basement and promptly kicks the Misfits out- and the Misfits mistake him for one of Jem's employees! They promise they'll wreck Jem and her career, and they'll w
Fight to Stay Alive Chapter 1Outside his house on Rainey Street in the suburbs of Arlen, Texas, Hank Hill and his friends were standing with their backs against the fence while they drank beer.
"Yep." Hank Hill simply stated.
"Yep." the gaunt Dale Gribble also said.
"Eeyup." the balding, portly Bill Dauterive said as well.
"Mm-hmm." blond and slender Boomhauer sounded.
At once, they all took a sip.
"These armadillos have become a real problem, I tell you what." Hank was the first to speak after their synchronized drink. "Why, just this morning, I was driving to work and I almost ran one over. Have you even seen the way they jump into the air like that?"
Boomhauer mumbled, "Yeah, they jump straught up in the air, man. I can't even tell ya how high they can jump, man, since I can't remember the last time I actually saw one jump..." before his speech devolved into unintelligible nonsense. He took another sip of his can of beer.
Dale contributed to the conversation with, "I bet them armadillos are gathering for a ritu
King of the Hill InterviewsHank Hill
Hi, I'm Hank Hill, and I work at Strickland Propane. I love propane. I live with my wife Peggy, and my son Bobby in the great Arlen, Texas.
Cotton, Cotton Hill; that's my name. You see these stubby little legs I have here? I used to have regular legs until I lost my shins in a war defending you sissies! It ain't no women's job! (rambles on)
Hi, I'm Peggy Hill. For all you Spanish people out there, Hol-a,so-e Peg-gy Hi-ll. I have a husband named Hank and a son named Bobby. I work as a substitute teacher.
Hi, I'm Bill Dauterive. I used to be a soldier in the army, but now I just give the army men haircuts. My life's pretty good, I guess. Although, I do live alone...it gets pretty lonely...living alone and all...
Hank: Dale, these people are not spies, they just want to interview you, come out of there.
Dale: [yells inside a cabinet] Are you sure?
Softball: Strickland Propane v. NarutoAUTHOR'S NOTE: This may have to do with a fictional softball tournament that I'm coming up with, as you'll see throughout this fic, but we'll see what happens if I decide to make another story similar to this. Enjoy this thing for fun and if you're a baseball fan, this will interest you. LOL
It’s a beautiful day at a small softball ballpark with sunshine and rainbows in the views; team captains Naruto Uzumaki and Hank Hill gathered with umpires (with Boomhauer patrolling the home plate area) for the coin toss, which is won by Team Strickland Propane (Hank’s team) and elected to bat first.
Team Naruto wears a similar gear worn by the New York Mets between 1983 and 1992 with a blue jersey with white-orange-blue-orange-white trim running vertically on the sleeves along with an all-blue cap; and Team Strickland dons their white jerseys with light blue trim on the lower part of the sleeves and their cap is pinwheel with white and light b
KOTH: The Devil and Dale Gribble (RD)Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan fiction. I do not own King of the Hill, The Simpsons nor other reference. Anything related to King of the Hill and The Simpsons belongs to FOX Network. But original scripts, words, and ideas belong to me (aka ASoulOfVirgoBoy).
A.N.: This is a rewrite version of The Devil and Dale. However Flanders will be keeping his role as the devil. Remember this is not the final draft of this fanfiction. So enjoy!
The Devil and Dale Gribble
Written by ASoulOfVirgoBoy
7:00 AM in the morning at Dale’s house.
Dale woke up and put on his orange work clothes. He walks to the kitchen and see what his wife Nancy cooks for breakfast.
Dale sat down on a chair with a table along with his son Joseph. Both of them sitting next to the heard from Nancy saying breakfast is ready.
As dale’s wife passes the plate to her husband and son. Each breakfast plate contains fried eggs, waffles, and sausages.
Beers in the AlleyHank never quite knew how deeply Dale's denial of Nancy and John's illicit relationship sunk, remaining quite content to think his friend honestly believed he had been abducted by Marfa aliens and that had resulted in Joseph. After all, Dale was the kind of man who kept a well-stocked fall-out shelter in his basement. He was the kind of man who obsessively cared for guns as though they were children.
A few weeks before what would inevitably be the end of the affair, Hank had been haunting the alley late at night. Peggy was... to put it bluntly, having her lady time, and after all these years, Hank still didn't know how to handle his wife. It was bad enough when she had a legitimate reason to get upset, but it was downright unbearable when she openly wept for no reason at all.
"I knew I'd find you out here," Dale drawled, cigarette perpetually hanging between his lips.
Hank startled at being caught. It was always sort of
Current Residence: Is too damn cold!
Favourite genre of music: Rock, Country and the Blues
Favourite photographer: KittyBlues and Dannyrocks
Favourite style of art: Davy Jones
Wallpaper of choice: Davy Jones, Flying Dutchman, Cars
Favourite cartoon character: The Joker from Batman
Personal Quote: Arrbedar.