"Mail came a little early yesterday. 3:30." "Yeah, Peggy was telling me." "Gentlemen, you are looking at the next winner... of the First Annual Durndle County mower races, stock class." "Mower races?" "Well, good for Durndle." "Me and my Mason 5000 will do 20 laps around the track... at speeds approaching 12 miles an hour." "I've chosen you three to be my pit crew." "Pit crew?" "Stuff that, mister." "If there's organized mower-racing, I'm in." " Me, too!" " Plan on eating my dust, Gribble." "Fine." "You're all fired from my pit crew." "So unless you plan on buying Mason 5000s between now and race day... and not having them anonymously vandalized, plan on losing." "Dale, it's the man, not the machine that wins races." "And I'll say this to you, and to you, and to you:" "I am the man." "You want to back out now?" "You mean back out of the race or back out of this position?" "Because I can do both but I will only do one." "There's more where that came from." "Oh, man." "Not my back again." "Mom, how come Dad gets to stand at the breakfast table... and I never get to wear my cape?" "Because your father is afraid of doctors." "Now, Hank, according to my count... this is the fifth or eighth time that your back has gone out this year." "Will you make an appointment already?" "No." "My back's just stiff from training for the mower race." "I spent three hours last night working on my starts." "See, if I can beat Boomhauer off the line, he'll fall apart mentally." "What is it with you mower-racers and your stubborn code of honor?" "I see a doctor whenever I'm incapacitated... and it does not make me any less of a man." "I am not incapacitated." "Enough said." "There." "Just take it." "Take it all." "I don't want any more junk food in my house." " Bill, are the rats back?" " I don't know." "I'm trying to lose weight so I have a better chance in the mower race." "Well, Bill, you could lose 100 pounds... and you still wouldn't be able to take a corner like me." "Well, I've got news for you." "I could never lose 100 pounds." "And you haven't been practicing." "Your lawn is shaggy!" "You say something about my lawn, Dauterive?" " Thank you, Gina." " Dr. Tate." "Yes." "Mr. Hill, you have a compression of the discs in your lower back." "Do you get a lot of this in your patients who race mowers?" "A lawnmower didn't cause this, it's genetic." " Genetic as in fatal?" " No." "DR. TATE:" "Mr. Hill, you were born with no muscle mass here... no cushioning." "For years, you've basically been sitting on your spine." "You suffer from a disease called Diminished Gluteal Syndrome or DGS." "I don't understand." "What does that mean?" "Mr. Hill, you have no ass." "Diminished Gluteal Syndrome?" "How could this happen to me?" "Let me show you something." "Gina, the chart." " Just a moment, Doctor." " I'll just do it myself." "This drawing shows a healthy gluteus Maximus." "Dr. TATE:" "You, have this body type." "It's actually quite common in the suburbs." "A white male with small buttocks and protruding belly... often caused by pronounced consumption of beer." "My rear end isn't as flat as that guy's." "I'm going to prescribe a gluteal orthotic device." "It's a prosthetic you wear over your backside... to help alleviate the pressure on your spine." "You want me to wear a fake heinie?" "Mr. Hill, are your shoes fake feet?" "This is your gluteal orthotic." "Let's see." "You wear it under your pants and..." "Well, that's about it." "Let's see how she fits." "Those two bags are filled with saline." "Dr. Tate has prescribed 1,700 milliliters for your left cheek... and 1,500 for your right." "Isn't that interesting, Hank?" "You have one butt cheek bigger than the other, just like my feet." "HANK:" "Yeah, we're made for each other." "I wear a size 16-and-a-half on my left foot, 16 on my right." "How's that feel, Hank?" "Pretty good, I guess." "Can you tell I've got something on back there?" "No, not at all." "Excuse me." "I noticed..." "Are you a patient of Dr. Tate?" " No." " Yes." "Me, too." "Name's Dave." "Dave Ulster." "Hank." "Hank Grill." "It can be tough in the beginning." "If you, you know... you ever need to talk or anything, give me a call." "Well, thank you, but this is a personal problem... that I am fully capable of handling on my own. get ready for Peggy Hill's joke of the day." "I'll be dipped!" "Come on, Dad." "Pedal to the metal." "Take small sips." "Don't gulp." "I'm mowing like I'm back in high school." "Have you seen my orthotic?" "I need it for dinner." "My dad's gonna be here in 10 minutes." "I was doing a load of support garments, so I went ahead and threw it in." "I hung it on the line to dry." "It's "dry on a flat surface only!" Didn't you read the tags?" "DALE:" "Over here, Hank." "Behind you." "You give that back before I kick your ass!" "Don't you mean before you kick your ass?" "That is a medical device prescribed by an orthopedic physician." "I'm here." "Where's the steak?" " Dad, go in the house." "I'll be right in..." " Colonel, you saved me a phone call." "I regret to inform you that your son is wearing saline implants... i.e., falsies on his rump." "Dear God, Hank." "You're wearing butt boobies." "It's not for my buttocks, it's for my back." "Didi, come over here." "Put your fake ta-ta's next to Hank's." "We'll see who's got the bigger melons!" "All right, that tears it." "Dad, you give that to me right now!" "Keepaway from Hank!" "Pipe down, hillbillies!" "We're having a game of keepaway here, Mr. Kahn." "Catch." "What information have you brought me, Octavio?" "Bill is losing weight, jefe." "He's eating only oranges and ham sandwiches." "Blast it!" "We will still win but we must train twice as hard." "Octavio, release the chicken." "[Dale clucking]" "So that's the way it is." "Hank, do not just stand there watching Dale mow a chicken." "Get your cheeks down off that line and get yourself back in the race." "No." "I'm done with mower-racing." "And I'll tell you something else:" "I'm ripping up the grass and putting in wood chips." "You know how I always hated having a lawn." "Hank, Mr. Strickland just called." "There is a propane emergency out in McMaynerbury." "McMaynerbury?" "When will they learn?" "No, no." "Hop in." "With your bad back, I will drive." "Hello?" "Hank Hill, Strickland Propane." "Do not light any matches." "DAVE:" "We're back here, Hank." "Remember me, Hank?" "Dave Ulster from the medical supply shop." "You're among friends." "All of us suffer from Diminished Gluteal Syndrome." "But Peggy said there was a propane..." "Oh, no." "Hank, my name is Wayne." "And I've been wearing for four years." "Phil." "Six-and-a-half years." "I'm Larry." "I've worn a prosthetic behind for 18 months." "Oh, God!" "This is a support group." "We are not a support group." "We're hobbyists." "We share a similar interest and meet twice a month to talk about it." "I can't believe this is happening to me." "Your wife told me about the awful incident with your orthotic." " I shared it with the group." " I don't know what you're talking about." "I am not even confirming that I have a wife." "It's one thing when they call us names." "But to play hot potato with your unit!" "For God's sakes!" "It's a medical device." "That's what I kept saying." "Those cruel sons of britches." "Did you get their names?" "I know their names." "They were my neighbors, and my best friends, and... my dad." "Hank, none of what's said here leaves the group." "So, anybody sit anywhere good this week?" "WAYNE:" "Guess which assistant coach sat on his son's Little League bench?" "DAVE:" "Nice." "LARRY:" "That's great." "Peggy, you better sit down, I have something to show you." "That's right." "I'm sitting." "And I owe it all to that hobbyist group." "And the one person who put me in touch with them..." "Dave Ulster." "I'm kidding you, Peggy." "See?" "I got my sense of humor back." "Hank, it is good to laugh again." "But on a serious note, Peggy... don't ever report a false propane emergency again." "Believe me, I prayed on it, Hank... and God said to me, "Don't do it."" "But you know what?" "I knew better." "I was not gonna rest until you were back in that mower race." "The race?" "I'm done with that nonsense." "I'll wear my orthotic at home and at my desk at work... but I'm not gonna give my so-called friends and family an opportunity... to ridicule me in public." "INSTRUCTOR:" "Squeeze your butt and release your butt." "And walk on your butt, and left cheek, right cheek..." "Bobby!" "That's a ladies tape." "What are you doing?" "I'm firming my buttocks in 30 days so I don't end up like you." "You know how much I like to sit." "Don't worry, Son." "You probably won't get DGS." "But even if you do, you can wear a gluteal orthotic... and sit anywhere you want." "Yeah, but sooner or later someone will find out." "And they'll laugh." "And I want people laughing at me 'cause I'm shoving broccoli up my nose... not because there's something wrong with me." "INSTRUCTOR:" "Left cheek, right cheek..." "DAVE:" "So, Hank, I see you're sitting this week." "Yes, I am." "But I'd like to stand up for what I'm about to say." "I want to thank you all for giving me the courage... to wear my orthotic with pride." "And dang it, I'm not just doing it for me." "I'm doing it for my son... because chances are I've passed this debilitating condition on to him." "And there is one thing I can do to help my son lead a happy, shame-free life." "And that's to win the Durndle County Lawnmower Race." " All right, Hank." " Way to go, Hank." "I knew y'all would be on board." "I'm gonna need an ace pit crew... and I'm looking at one right now." "We're an unbeatable team!" "The Diminished Glutes!" "We'll wear it on our hats, on our jackets." "Heck, I'll paint it on my mower." "Right on top of the factory coat." "You do that, we'll throw a brick through your window." "What the..." "I thought we were an unbeatable team." "Take a seat, Hank." "We're a secret society, not a group of Look-At-Me-Stanleys." "Well, fine." "If that's the way it is, I'll do it on my own." "Thank you, Hank." "Any other new business?" "Hank, painting "Diminished Glutes" on your mower might be asking for trouble." "What about my suggestion to paint "The Mow the Merrier?"" "I suffer from a genetic condition called DGS." "I'm sorry, Hank." "It's just that I don't know what it's like." "Because obviously, I have got it going on back there." "God forbid in 20 years Bobby gets it." "I don't want him to feel like a freak." "I'm fighting now so he doesn't have to." "Race for the cure." "ANNOUNCER:" "Good afternoon." "The United States Lawnmower Racing Association... welcomes you to the Durndle County Speedway." "Our day begins with the lightning speed of the drag races." "Look at Dale over there, all smug on his Mason 5000." "You're gonna eat my exhaust fumes, Gribble." " Keep talking, bubble-butt." " I wasn't saying anything." "Not you." "I was talking to Hank." "I'm gonna mow laps around both of you!" "ANNOUNCER:" "Stock class racers, mount your mowers." "The race will begin in one minute!" "All right, Octavio." "Now that the inspection is over, hook up the nitrous oxide to my engine." "That's illegal, no?" "Yes." "But it'll give me a boost of speed." "Add that to the natural quickness of the Mason 5000... and I just might overcome my weak driving skills." "ANNOUNCER:" "Racers, start your engines!" "And ready, set... mow!" "I did better than I thought I would." "[Upbeat '70s pop music]" "Don't you clip my wheels, you little tush." "Say that again to the back of my head..." "Mr. Non-U.S. Lawnmower Association Approved Helmet." "ANNOUNCER:" "Ten laps down, ten laps to mow!" "He blew out his left cheek!" "No." "That's his pivot cheek." "Now he can't turn to the inside." "Hank, I just wanna say I'm proud of you." "May the best man win." "Not the other one." "My cheeks blew out." "I'm riding on my tailbone." "I don't think I can finish." "Yes, you can." "There's less than one lap to go." "Gut it out." "Cramp!" "Gut it out!" "Watch out." "I'm pulling off the track." "DAVE AND LARRY:" "We're here!" "No rear!" "Get used to it!" "We're here!" "No rear!" "Get used to it!" "Hank, take my ass." "ANNOUNCER:" "And the winner of the First Annual Durndle County Mower Race... is Boomhauer!" "Damn, we lost." "You worthless piece of junk." "But I can still beat Hank." "That's even better than winning." "Come on, you graceful gazelle." "Dang cheating Octavio blew my engine!" "ANNOUNCER:" "Dale Gribble on the Mason 5000." "Hank Hill on the Diminished Gluteal Syndrome mower!" "What a battle for sixth place!" "Celebrate good times, come on!" "Sixth place!" "Well, I'm sorry I let you down by not winning the race." "Hank, what you did, it took a lot of guts." "You got seventh place." "That means you automatically qualify for next year's race." "Well, I appreciate what you guys did out there today, too." "That also took a lot of guts." "Especially you, Larry." "We were all reaching for our bags, buddy." "I was just quickest on the draw." "All right, then." "I guess I'll see you guys next Tuesday." "She's a beaut." "What kind of engine?" "Briggs and Stratton?" "Tecumseh." "Ten-and-a-half horse under the hood." "That padding, that thing you were wearing during the race..." "I got a friend who could use something like that." "Well, why don't you give your friend my card?" "Excuse me." "I think you could use it, too." "Peggy, to the medical supply store." "I need some new cheeks." "DR. TATE:" "Thank you, Gina." "GINA:" "Dr. Tate."