Typical Linda, always such a meddlesome harpy. Annoyed by seeing Bull enjoying himself and remembering things, she throws Bull and his block-headed pal out into the chilly autumn night for no other reason aside from sheer bitter spite. I’ve never cared much for Linda and her humorless smirking know-it-all-ism.
Totally lost without television, Bull and Buck meander on down to the ol’ WHS gridiron to silently bask in the echoes of pigskin glory days gone by, when football was a game played by large unintelligent men who bullied their classmates because they had a tough home life, unlike today’s watered-down brand of football, where any stupid feeb with a stupid goatee in a mascot costume can become an overnight sensation. I suppose they could have wandered down to Montoni’s or a bar or something, but that would take the characters into the realm of two-dimensionality and we cannot have that. High school football memories…that’s the premise here and by God he’s sticking to it.
Son of Stuck Funky 
Not only is Bull losing his mind, but he’s losing weight as well.
Looks they switched bodies or jackets?!?
I’ve known people who played high school football, none made it to the NFL, one got a college scholarship, but none of them mope about their high school days. They all need to see a therapist.
Linda expression looks like instead of saying “… and get some fresh air”, she really wanted to say “… and go play in the highway during rush hour”.
Sends husband, who is in the early stages of CTE, out with a man she barely knows who may or may not know how to handle someone in a fit of dementia.
Now that’s the Linda we know.
All that’s missing in a cooler full of Alamo beer, and conversing in “Yup.”
Well, that and the humor present in most King of the Hill episodes.
Just call me Dale
Great. I’d almost rather have her talk up pumpkin-spice gazpacho pizza than be her typical shrewish, unsympathetic self.
At least they’ve left enough space between them for Ghost Lisa.
Panel 3: “Over there is where I broke my arm. Over there is where I tore my ACL. Over there is where I sprained my ankle. Over there, there, there, and there is where I got concussions…”
Anyone else think it odd that Big Walnut Tech jackets have a “T” on them. “Tech” – I get it – but tech could be any old tech. My theory is that an interlaced “BW” is too hard to draw. It’s apparently all part of the writing game, folks.
I thought the Westview jackets had the goat on them. To complement the goat wearing them.
Crankshaft: I said Monday’s pumpkin spice joke was funny. Now I regret it. I regret everything.
The only way to redeem this is to imagine that the entire town has colluded to drive Crankshaft into a screaming fit of frothing madness by constantly offering him pumpkin spice. Then the court ordered commitment to Bedside Manor…and the slow decay into Funky Winkerbean ‘Shaft.
“They say this cat Crankshaft is a bad mutha-”
“Shut your mouth!”
“I’m just talking about Crankshaft.”
“Then we can dig it!”
I think the general level of discourse could be raised and people would appear more erudite if they still used the expressions “I can dig it!” and “Right on!” to express approval or agreement. Can you dig it?
Who’s the black private dick who’s a sex machine to all the chicks?
‘Shaft…..Crankshaft!…Can ya dig it?
Damn straight.