Original subtitles

Yup.

Yup.

Mm‐hmm.

Hey, hillbillies,

my delinquent nephew coming to town.

Don't buy him beer!

I know rednecks like to buy beer for kids.

He'll ask. He like to party.

Don't buy him beer!

Hey, you guys want to come

to my vernal equinox party tomorrow?

No.

Before you answer, remember,

the vernal equinox is when the stars align

in the configuration of an arrow pointing to earth,

as if to say, "Come visit here."

I'll read a thoughtful essay.

We'll shriek ceremoniously and eat tapas!

God, no.

BILL: Hey, guys!

Ow!

My knee!

Bill, you got to promise me

you won't do that in front of the aliens.

They hate slapstick.

DALE: Nancy,

have you begun making the tapas?

This will be the visitors' first experience

with food on this planet.

I want them to have a little taste

of everything.

Is this going to shrink down?

This is huge!

What‐What will I tell the aliens?

"I hope you like this, because if you don't,

there's nothing else?!"

Dale, I'm doing the best I can.

I'm sorry I don't know alien protocol.

BOBBY: Come on, seven!

(Joseph grunts strangely)

(laughter)

Seven!

That's the third seven in a row you've blown out of your nose.

You're amazing!

It's either lucky dice or a lucky nose.

There's only one way to find out.

(grunting)

NANCY: Boys, please stop that!

I don't have time to take anyone to the emergency room!

(strange grunt)

CELL PHONE: ♪ She's my cherry pie ♪

Oh, that must be, uh, Minh.

♪ Cool drink of water ♪

♪ Such a sweet surprise ♪

♪ Taste so good, make a grown man cry ♪

♪ Sweet cherry pie, oh, yeah ♪

Dinner is served. ♪ She's my cherry pie ♪

♪ Put a smile on your face ten miles wide... ♪

Now, be sure you've got your phone off

when the aliens get here.

It could startle them, which could result in our death.

Not to mention, it's pretty rude.

Hey, Nancy, did you know

that John Redcorn, the children's musician,

has been trying to reach you here at the station?

Well, I‐I have no idea why.

I barely know that guy.

Well, he seems to know you.

I want you to do a feature on him.

What?! But I do news.

We're moving you off the news desk to features.

It seems, people aren't interested in hard news anymore.

They say it's boring and makes them sad.

That is not my fault.

I always said we shouldn't do the sad stuff.

No, people love you.

Look at this mail.

"We love the blonde woman."

And, "Nancy real good."

And, "I want to lay with blondie."

Really? Oh, that's flattering!

But, um, shouldn't I start

with a better get than John Redcorn?

No, Redcorn's hot.

He's burning up the pre‐tween market.

And can you see if he'll play my stepkid's birthday?

Of course, I get stuck organizing the party

because my stepkid's real dad's too busy.

Too busy? Too drunk!

And... it's equinox!

(high‐pitched silly shrieking)

(loud breathy sounds)

(strange musical vocalizing)

(grunts)

(tires screeching, engine revving)

(engine revving, tires squeak)

Gih!

(speaking Laotian):

Alien?

Aa‐len.

Alien.

Oh, my God, it worked!

Your language‐‐ it's beautiful!

You want me to get in there?

Okay, okay, I'll get in.

Good‐bye, Earth!

2048.

Hey, your clock's on military time.

Why would you have milita...?

Oh, my God!

That's not the time.

That's the year!

You're not an alien. You're a time traveler!

Let me out of this thing! Eject!

(engine revving)

♪ What do you do with a drunken bear? ♪

♪ Early in the morning! ♪

Oh, I'm so glad

that your regular makeup lady got meningitis

so I can do your makeups.

That's great, sug.

Did you get a cat?

A blonde cat?

Um, no.

I don't have a cat.

Nancy.

John Redcorn.

Go, Nancy.

I'm Nancy Hicks‐Gribble,

reporting live from Captain Bear's Pizza.

John Redcorn,

you enchant Arlen's children and tweens.

Tell me about your personal style.

I wore this vest especially for you.

This is the Native American symbol for forbidden love.

(giggles) Oh.

Well, that's a fun fact.

Um, speaking of fun,

what's your favorite local hot spot?

REDCORN: Remember when we found your hot spot?

Bobby, room.

But he's getting out his guitar.

Now!

(grunts)

You better call me if he sings "The Oatmeal Blues."

I hope for Dale's sake this isn't what it looks like.

The... rekindling and whatnot.

Nancy swore to me she would never whatnot

with that man again.

REDCORN: Guitar playing is about strumming the instrument

in many intimate ways.

I caress the strings gently with a feather.

♪ Hi yai hay, and so it rings true ♪

♪ Calling people back is the right thing to do! ♪

For Channel 84, I'm Nancy Hicks‐Gribble.

Good night!

And... clear.

Luanne, would you help me

with this earpiece? REDCORN: Here.

Let me help you.

(gasps)

Is that my hair?

You always did make me feel strong.

(bird screeches)

(panting)

I've done it!

I've traveled to 2048!

Al Gore was right.

I wonder what ocean this used to be.

And man has devolved back to crawling.

No, wait, that's just me.

It's times like this I wish

I had a friend named The Professor.

Note to self: don't make too many notes to self.

Probably can't get more cassettes.

So, they changed the name of Arlen to Fartland.

Oh, cold, hilarious fate.

What happened here that would make them do such a thing?

What can I do for you today?

Your lips are looking a bit thin.

You want me to plump them up with some more of your butt fat?

Well, sure, but first, could you look at my hair?

I think it's been falling out lately.

Hmm. Hair's tough.

Let me try something.

Well, that should have hurt.

What's happening to me?

Well, it's difficult to determine the cause

of female hair loss, and

then it's hard to cure.

So, what should I do?

Well, there are some shampoos on the market

with outrageous claims.

You could try those,

but if they don't work, you should be prepared for this.

See, right now, you're... here.

In six months, you'll be...

here.

Oh, my God!

Oh, I tried it again.

You're definitely losing your hair.

(knocking)

What are you doing here, John Redcorn?

I wrote a song for you.

It's about a beautiful tree named Fancy.

Ignore the end.

The tree becomes a home for a squirrel

with body image issues.

(strumming guitar)

I'm sorry, John Redcorn, but you've got to go.

We broke up already.

It was hard, but it's done.

REDCORN: Please, Nancy. Don't we owe it

to ourselves to be happy?

What's John Redcorn doing here?

Don't be obvious, but look over

at my 1:00, your 6:30.

Dang it, Boomhauer. I said don't be obvious!

I thought that whole business was over with.

Of course I still have that arrowhead.

Huh.

I thought in the future, there'd be more things hovering.

You must be Hank's grandson.

I knew your grandfather.

He was, hmm... okay.

A little jowlier than you.

Cut that out.

BILL: Hey, guys.

Ow!

My knee!

Oh, my God.

Bill's about to say, "I'm okay!"

I'm okay.

Wait.

I wasn't transported to the future.

I've been transported to the past.

Yesterday!

(Nancy giggling)

Oh, God, that's under the vest.

Oh, no!

(sighs) We can't let this happen.

If Nancy sees him spouting all this nonsense,

it's just going to drive her back to John Redcorn.

Yeah, well, man, she ain't got too got‐dang ol' far to go, man.

DALE: Oh, my God!

If this is yesterday, then I could...

run into myself.

If that happens,

the space/time continuum will be compromised,

and the world will explode!

You know, Dale, we should probably keep this time travel stuff between us,

because if the government finds out, they'll, uh...

They'll do what, uh, you know, the government does.

Those bastards! You're right.

I think the other me is close by.

I hear the sound of my voice.

If I ask, I was never here.

DR. SCHIFF: Nancy,

your test results show there's no medical reason

for your hair loss.

Your iron level is normal;

your glands all secrete perfectly;

and your heart is in excellent condition.

I don't care about my heart.

My heart isn't admired on television!

My heart wasn't voted "prettiest heart" in high school!

My heart isn't so high and thick

it once had a low‐flying bird get stuck in it!

Nancy, female hair loss is not uncommon.

It's usually caused by stress or heredity.

Well, it must be stress.

The hair in my family gets bigger every generation.

Well, in that case,

I've got some great anti‐anxiety medications

I can prescribe.

Let's go to Dr. Schiffie's cabinet,

see what we can do.

Oh, you're really going to like these.

Alakazam!

Alprazolam!

This scarf is so pretty.

Do you think it thinks I'm pretty?

Man, these pills are great.

(glass breaking) So doctor say hair loss caused

by something stressing you out?

I say it toss up

between idiot husband and idiot son.

Who you love and don't want to hurt.

I should wait in the car.

I don't want my baby to catch your stress

I am not giving birth to a bald baby.

You think I'd be stressed out, but I'm not.

I feel freaking fantastic.

(laughing)

You know, I'm addicted to these pills.

(deep breath)

Well, if it's not stress, it must be heredity.

I know what I have to do.

What the heck are you wearing?

I'm going spelunking.

I've got an extra headlamp and backpack thingy

with your name on it...

in masking tape.

You interested?

No.

Neither am I.

That's why I know I won't run into myself there.

And after this...

ice dancing.

And then, flossing!

Sorry to just drop in on you like this, Mom.

I lost my cell phone.

I've had the worst week.

You've had a hard week.

My foot bath died.

Then I had another one of my recipes stolen.

Mother, please. Just listen to me.

Oh, all right.

But Mommy needs her Xanax first.

You want one?

No. No.

Well...

no.

Look, I've lost... some hair recently,

and I was wondering

if female hair loss runs in our family at all.

Bless me for being so honest and such a good mother.

Sugarbear, truth is: my hair fell out long ago.

This is a wig.

Oh, my God!

Don't tell your father.

So, it is hereditary.

Not exactly.

We're not so dissimilar, you and I.

Did I ever tell you about Frank Torres?

Your life‐drawing teacher?

I remember every day of the ten years we shared our secret love.

Our affair was like floating on a cloud made of a rainbow;

our lovemaking, exciting, but virtually motionless.

I‐I can't believe what I'm hearing!

Frank. How he loved to dance wildly to no music at all,

just the sound of the pounding

of his fist on his leg.

All right,

you've made your dramatic speech for the night.

Can we get back to my problem now?

Sugarbear,

I mention all this

because the stress of ending my affair with Frank

is what brought on my hair loss.

What?

By the time my shrink discovered

my subconscious yearning was to blame,

it was too late to get him back:

he died.

Just like my old foot bath.

So, what you're telling me is...

if I want my hair back,

I have to get back together with John Redcorn?

Or you'll regret it for the rest of your life.

Hey, Hank Hill,

my nephew missing.

If you see 17‐year‐old

in tricked‐out hot rod, call the police.

I always do.

Hey, Nancy!

I'm off to lifeguard school

and I needed my Speedos.

What? No chance

of seeing myself there.

What is going on with you?

Hank! Dale!

(sighs) Nancy,

there's something I think you should know.

Okay, it's a long story.

It begins

when I got into a time machine.

Dale!

Oh, right, I've got to be quick.

Damn my love of flowery storytelling.

Nancy...

tomorrow's not guaranteed!

You should live for now!

Meaning, if you're thinking about doing something,

but are hesitant for some reason,

you should go ahead and do it!

Like wearing that crazy hat.

You, too, John Redcorn.

If there's something you're thinking about doing,

you might as well do it!

Do it now!

You heard him, Nancy.

Now, let me get this straight.

John Redcorn have to...

love the hair back onto you?

PEGGY: Uh‐uh.

That story cannot be true.

Oh, I bet Bunny's writing a fake memoir.

I'll warn Oprah.

No, it's true.

And if I don't get back together with him,

I'll go bald.

Just like his broad, smooth Native American chest.

I know that giving yourself to Redcorn

would be both exhilarating and wonderful,

but you are a married woman!

But my hair is my job, and my job is my family's livelihood.

So I'd be sleeping with John Redcorn

as if our lives depended on it.

I know what Jesus would do:

he would resist the temptation, even if he had to go bald.

And he had great hair.

Oh, what am I gonna do?

I'm just a swirling tempest of emotions, sugs.

Frustration.

Humiliation.

Fear.

Desire.

Guilt.

Oh, just do it,

but don't do it too much or you end up with moustache.

Wow.

This is gonna be a great party!

(beep)

(bell rings)

(engine revving)

So, I'll meet you there?

Did he tell you where the party is?

(xylophone playing)

(singing): ♪ Then the squirrel loved herself exactly as she was ♪

♪ Thanks to the beautiful... ♪

♪ Fancy ♪

Excuse me, ma'am.

Oh, I'm a friend of John Redcorn.

Lady, all these women are "friends of John Redcorn."

Nancy!

Hey!

I assume you didn't come here

to get your caricature done with a monkey.

But, if you want one, I can get it at half price.

I changed my mind, sug.

Let's start what we finished.

(knocking on glass)

Fatal flaw!

The end is approaching quicker than anticipated.

Okay, I don't know if you knew this,

but I can't use any toilet but my own,

I can only hold my bodily fluids

for six days and 52 minutes.

Yes, Dale, I'm well aware.

So I have to go potty!

I'm destined to run into myself

in my bathroom.

Listen to me.

You have to stop talking about this.

But I feel bad about not warning Nancy.

You haven't told Peggy?

No, because I don't want to scare her.

And you shouldn't want to scare Nancy.

I don't!

Then just be cool.

Everything is okay.

Now, I'd like to get back to my family

and my chili taco.

So you're telling me the end of the world is near,

and you're just gonna...

hang out with your loved ones?

And eat tacos?

Yep.

Huh.

This train stops at the hotel.

We can go back and order room service,

watch a movie.

Or we could just get right to the sex,

whichever.

Nancy!

(train blows whistle)

Dale?

What are you doing here?

Hello, John Redcorn.

Dale.

Nancy, I don't want us

to spend one more minute apart.

I want to be with you for the rest of my life.

So what if that's only...

35 minutes away.

Now, I'm not saying the world is going to end in 35 minutes,

but if it did,

I know exactly where I want to be:

in the arms of my trusty wife.

You are as beautiful as you are trusty.

Now, let's go home.

I want you in the bathroom with me when it happens.

What?

Nancy...

my lover, my teacher, my friend‐‐

I don't want to see me without you.

Come on. Let's go!

Hold that train, sir.

I hope I made the right choice.

Well, this is the only wig shop in Arlen,

so, you don't really have much choice.

You're right, sug.

DALE: Oh, cold, hilarious fate.