The DisneyLand Destruction
“Hank, you’ve been a proud supporter and worker for Strickland Propane for many, many years. It hurts me to say this, Mr. Hill, but your services are no longer required. I wish you luck in your future endeavors, and I wish you a long, healthy life,” the words of Hank Hill’s boss, Buck Strickland, echo in his head. After sitting down on the side of his bed with his special cup filled with rich black coffee, he started getting tears in his eyes. “Gee, Dad. What happened,” said Bobby, his son.
“Bobby, Mr. Strickland fired me. I lost my job,” said Hank.
“I’m sorry, Dad. Want a bite,” Bobby says, while offering Hank some of his muffin.
“No thanks, son. But thanks for the offer,” Hank says, before laying down in bed.
Bobby
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Can I go now,” Peggy snaps.
“Too bad,” Hank quotes as he clears his throat. “Hello, my name is Hank Hill from Arlen, Texas, and I wish you a gorgeous day at DisneyLand.”
Peggy does an obvious chuckle, picks up her purse, and speaks before exiting the house, “That’s really funny, Hank.”
“This is going to take some time,” Hank thinks to himself, before finishing his cup of coffee and exiting his bedroom to get more.
Hank shows up to the DisneyLand the next morning and found John Redcorn and approached him with a question. “Hello, John. Where is the boss’s office?”
“Hank, you’re nearby. Mr. Disney’s office is right ‘ahead.’
Hank enters the office and hears someone saying “Zzzzz...Zzzz,” obviously faking a deep slumber. The voice quiets and sounds alerted, “Who goes there, ehh?”
Hank startledly stated, “I-I’m Hank Hill, from A-Arlen, Texas.” He discovered the putrid scent of Walt Disney’s head on a robotic scooter. The smell of frozen, rotten flesh filled the room as Hank gagged at the sight of his decapitated head connected to a metallic
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We’ll put you back where you started on the rank of advisor and salesman.”
“Mr. Strickland, I’m employed by Walt Disney enterprises, but I guess I can quit. Thank you, sir,” as Hank hangs up the phone. “John Redcorn, enter Autopia ride for operation.” Hank utters in his headset. He takes off his headset and exits the ride location, in search of Walter Disney to tell him his recent decision.
“Howdy, Hank! How’s working at the financially magic place in the world,” said Walt whirring around in his ugly, robotic unicycle.
“Sir, I would like to hang up the Mickey mouse gloves and quit. I thank you for the opportunity, and I wish you financial love and happiness.” calmly quotes Hank.
Walt 2.0 pulls out a .44 magnum and points it at Hank, “ You aren’t going anywhere, Mr. Texas.
“I’m one step ‘ahead’ of you, Bird Brain.
Walt fires a bullet, but misses Hank. Hank then proceeds to superkick Walt’s head off of his robotic scooter, splatting against the wall. Hank chuckles and says, And to think, that big head of yours couldn’t see what I was gonna do.” as he proceeds to exit the office, get in his red Ford Super Duty pickup truck, and drives back to Strickland Propane. He never interacted with Disney related products, programs, or events ever