Mrs.G.F.Handel: Hi! This is my first time writing a King of the Hill fic, so be nice!
George F. Handel: If you don't like the idea, don't read. I may be a composer, but I know the art of fencing!
Title: Quel est le problème avec des Français?
Fandom: King of the Hill
Disclaimer If I owned King of the Hill, I would have made this one already. All the characters you don't recognize are mine though, as well as the plot.
Summary What if a French family moved to Arlin? And the father worked for Strickland? I wrote this to find out. Forgive me if everyone is OOC, I'm new at this.
Chapter One
The sun showed bright on a lovely Monday morning. Birds were singing and flowers were in bloom. On all accounts it appeared that it was going to be a wonderful normal spring day.
The clock at Strickland struck noon and all the employees filed off for lunch. They all took out there lunch and sat around the table and began to talk about there weekends.
Not more than five minutes later, Buck strolled in to the middle of the room. "Okay everyone, gather 'round" he called. They all stood up in a semicircle around in front of him. "Alright kids, I have an important announcement to make. It seems that the American Propane Association believes that we need to promote international friendliness or something like that. So we'll be getting ourselves a new member of the family."
Whispers went out among them.
"Who is he? Where is he from?" asked Enrique.
"He's name is Louis Villepinte. He works for the French Propane Association." Gasps where heard.
"But Mr. Strickland!" cried Hank. "We can't have a Frenchman working here! What will the customers think?"
"Don't complain to me!" cried Buck, "They say if I don't do this, they'll shut us down. They have us in a tight one."
"Oh, God." Needless to say Hank had a bad day.
… … … … … … … … … … … …
Later the same day after Hank returned home, he, Dale, Bill, and Boomhauer, stood in the ally drinking beer as usual.
"So he will be moving on this street, in that empty house over there." Hank points to the house across the street.
"You know why he's coming hear, don't you?" asked Dale. "The French are spying on us. They want there land back. It's a cover story so they can fine a way to get it back."
"That's stupid Dale" said Hank.
"I bet he plays soccer and doesn't clean his yard" said Boomhauer.
"I bet he drinks fancy wine and doesn't shower" said Bill.
"Well," sighed Hank, "I might as well prepare to greet him. You know with the Block charter and everything. He should be here sometime this week. Oh, sometimes I wish I wasn't the Block Captain."
Hank turned around and stocked off toward his house.
"Wow" said Dale.
… … … … … … … … … … … …
That night at dinner Hank told his family about all that had happened that day.
"Well Hank," said Peggy, "do you know anything about him or his family? If were going to have a new family move in, we aught to know something about them."
"I don't know anything about him, I kind of focused out while Mr. Strickland was talking about it, and I honestly don't want to know about him. All I care is that he doesn't bring down Strickland Propane and keeps his yard looking decent."
"I love French designers!" cried Luanne. "They make such beautiful clothing! And they have wonderful hair!"
"I love crêpes!" cried Bobbie. "I had them at Mimi's Café! There awesome!"
Hank stared at them, not quiet sure how or where they got their ideas.
"Remember Hank," said Peggy, "you have to make this work. If you offend him, he could get Strickland in trouble. If he says or does anything, just ignore him, smile, nod, and forget it. Confronting him won't fix anything."
"Your right Peggy," replied Hank, "but if he disrespects America in anyway, I'll have a little talk with him."
"Please Hank, be careful. The last thing America needs now is a war with France. Not that they'd succeed, but still. You'll never know what will happen, so expect the worst."
"Fine," said Hank, giving up. "I just won't say anything. But I know I will not like him."
TBC…
Mrs.G.F.Handel: So, what do you think? Please, no flames. Constructive criticism only please!
George F. Handel: Yea, can't we all get along?