The yellowed sky kissed the verdant horizon which painted a soft romantic picture for the sleepy town of Arlen that sat below in all its glory. The perfectly mowed lawns lay divided by clean and freshly stained wooden fences securing the yards of those who lived on the handsome street called Rainey. Birds sung gaily in the orange colored leaves of the oaks and mimosa trees that decorated each yard. Hank could hear the chirps right outside his bedroom window and it reminded him of the cool fall mornings he had as a child. He rolled over to see his aging wife whose beauty had slightly faded over the twenty years they had spend together, still comfortably in a dream world. He stood up and stretched his back and legs and yawned quietly careful not to wake her. It was nearly time for him to be at work, but he was not in that much of a rush. Over the seventeen years he had worked for Strickland Propane, he had never been late once, in fact he had it timed perfectly. He would leave his house at 7:32 every morning and arrive precisely at 7:41 with plenty enough time to dust and shine any accessories in the showroom that appeared dull. He was what you would call a perfectionist. Every aspect of his life was planned out perfectly and right on schedule. Hank threw on his blue knee length robe and walked to the kitchen, eager to begin making coffee, only to find Bobby dressed and ready for school.

"Morning, Bobby," Hank said as he went to the cabinet for the canister of Folgers Coffee. Bobby looked tired and sad. "What's wrong, son?" Hank asked. "Got Monday morning blues?" He chuckled hardily as he filled the coffee pot with water and put in a filter.

"Well dad, to be honest, I really like this girl, but she won't even look my way," Hank looked at his son in amazement. He had always thought his son would turn out a little funny and end up being the lover of some six foot tall man in leather named Joe Bob.

"Way to go, Bobby!" He said with glee. "What's her name? I bet she's a real pretty one huh?" Bobby looked upward at his father who stood leaning against the kitchen sink with a smile planted firmly on his face. He smiled at his father warmly.

"Yeah she's beautiful, but she'll never like me because I'm not cool like her boyfriend. Oh and her name is Daphne," Hank grinned widely.

"Well Dang Bobby, I like that name. I'm sure you could win her over somehow. Use some jokes on her to make her laugh!" Hank pulled a mug from above the sink and poured some coffee into it slowly savoring the warm rich scent.

"I don't know dad, those baby blues aren't interested in giving me a second glance," Bobby picked up his back pack from the ground and threw it over his shoulder.

"Cheer up, son. I'm sure she'll look your way," He patted his boy on the back and watched him ride off to school on his bike. Hank chuckled deeply and admired his son's good spirit. He had quite a sense of humor, but the boy just wasn't right sometimes. It was good to see that he was taking a liking to some girls that he went to school with though. Realizing what time it was, he ran to the bedroom to finish his daily hygienic tasks, only to hear his wife singing gleefully in the shower.

"Dang it, Peggy, you know I need to get in there to brush my teeth so I can go to work," He banged his fist heavily on the door. Shortly after his attempts to alert her of the time, the faucet turned off and the sound of water flow ceased. Hank had just finished buttoning his blue work short when his wife stepped out of the bathroom. His back was to her as he tied his shoestring.

"Ahem," came Peggy's voice. Hank turned with a start and saw his wife only in a pair of blue fuzzy slippers.

"God dang it, Peggy, put some clothes on," He turned and blushed feverishly from the neck up. She strolled over to him and put her naked arms around his broad shoulders. He shivered in disgust. "Come on now, you're wrinkling up my clean work shirt," Hank stepped away from her and backed into the bathroom to leave her in disappointment. She sat on the bed completely nude and crossed her legs. Tears welled in her eyes and began to fall down her face.

"Is it completely impossible for you to do anything in the slightest bit spontaneous? What happened to the man I married?" She stood roughly and banged on the door to the bathroom. Hank sighed as he brushed his teeth. She knew he couldn't be late for work and he didn't understand why she couldn't be "spontaneous" at night when he didn't have any where to be.

"Is it impossible for you to realize that in five minutes I'll be late for work? Why don't you throw yourself at me when it's time to be at home?" He said as he squeezed out the bathroom door and slinked to the bedroom. Peggy stopped him and crossed her arms. The look on her face was one of hurt, distaste and anger.

"Hank Hill, you have barely talked to me in weeks, you have not touched me in about the same amount of time. What else must I do to get your attention?" she growled and allowed Hank to leave the room. He looked very uncomfortable and backed into the wall, knocking a photograph of his father, Cotton, off the wall. The frame shattered all over the floor. "Now look what you've done!" Peggy screamed.

"Have you thought that maybe your constant nagging and badgering has caused me to become a little un-aroused by you?" Hank said loudly as he watched her begin to scoop up the broken photograph in a dust pan. She looked at him angrily and gritted her teeth.

"You know what, Hank. You know what our relationship is like? It's like the picture you just broke into a million pieces! This is us! This is what happened to us in twenty years!" She pushed the dust pan into Hank's face causing him to fall out the living room door clumsily.

"Baahhhh!" Hank skidded on his elbows causing the skin to scrape away and bleed. Peggy slammed the door as hard as she could, knocking the coat rack to the floor. She watched Hank pull away in his truck and drive off. She was so angry at this point she could just scream. Then a thought came to her mind. If Hank wouldn't touch her, she knew someone would.

Hank could not believe what just happened. Maybe he didn't pay enough attention to his husbandly duties. Maybe he wasn't a good enough husband. He tried as hard as he could. He worked every day and brought home a decent pay and allowed Peggy a lot of freedoms. She could come and go as she pleased, he wasn't at all dominating and he didn't get possessive over her either. His wife was annoying at times with her egotistical ways, but most of the time the error of her ways knocked her down a notch. He thought hard because he needed to apologize to her somehow, maybe roses and candy and a 'sorry' card. That would be perfect, she would love that. At his lunch break he'd go home and she'd fall into his arms and forgive him and then they'd make love. It would be just what they needed. Maybe she was just angry because Hank had been preoccupied with work and building the pool at Khan's house, but it was perfect weather and he thought it be something she'd really appreciate when she was soaking her aching feet in the pool after a hard day of wife-ing. Women, he thought, who could understand them. Sometimes, Hank laughed, they had to even confuse themselves.

Back at home, Peggy had concocted a plan that even made her skin crawl, but it was a plan for revenge against Hank and his neglectful attitude. Perhaps he was even getting satisfied elsewhere, from another woman, Peggy thought. She doubted that greatly considering Hank was always your typical do- gooder and usually did nothing out of the norm, but this time she was going to get him where it hurt the most, even if he was or wasn't being a lecherous old bigot. She inhaled deeply and teased her hair up higher than usual and put on a low-cut blouse that revealed a little too much cleavage. She slipped into the shortest skirt she owned and left out the panties. Now completing the ensemble, she put on a pair of stilettos that she only wore on special occasions.

"Peggy Hill," She said as she admired her reflection in their bathroom mirror. "You are one hot mama," She blew herself a kiss and lifted her skirt up to reveal a naughty patch of skin on her backside. Slowly she made her way into the living room and peaked out the sliding glass door, to see Dale outside in his orange jumpsuit and signature hat. She acknowledged the fact that Dale had resembled one of her favorite authors of all times, Mr. Hunter S. Thompson, and in her mind she would pretend that's who it was as she tried to seduce him. She watched him fool around in the yard with one of his hair-brain schemes and decided that now was as good as any time. She slid the door open and called him over.

"Dale! Dale Gribble!"She called over the fence to her neighbor who was obviously taken with some kind of contraption he was putting together on his front lawn. "DALE!"

"WHAAAAT!" he screamed as the machine he had just finished assembling went crazy and started to chase him all over his yard. "HELPPPP, PEGGY!" Peggy watched Dale run around in circles as the machine chased closely behind him with larger lawn clippers snapping open and closed violently. Oh brother, she thought, I think maybe I would have done better by picking Bill.

"Be right there, Dale," Peggy walked over and saw the machine connected to a bright green extension cord which meant that it was running off of electricity. Quickly, she yanked the cord out of the power outlet and watched the machine come to a sudden halt and a sweating Dale light up another cigarette.

"Thank you, Peggy," he said as he got to his feet and wiped his brow. "That machine went insane, but I think I figured out where I went wrong…"

"Dale, before you start on that again, can you come to the house and take a look. I think I have an infestation," Peggy said grabbing Dale's wrist gently. Dale looked bright at that moment.

"Let me get my special poison for my best friend's house," she saw Dale run to the garage where he kept the special supply of poisons and insect killing mixtures.

"So what kind of pest have you encountered, Mrs. Hill," She guided Dale into the house.

"Dale there really isn't need for formalities…"

"But I insist, Mrs. Hill, you are now a client," Peggy rolled her eyes and closed the sliding glass door behind them.

"I think it might be… uh… Moles. Yeah Moles, that's what it is," she bit her cherry red lip and smiled at Dale as he looked around the kitchen mumbling non- sense to himself.

"Ah the pesky mole. In the mammal family of Talpidae in the order of Soricomorpha," He opened a few cabinets and looked around the corner into the hallway with a tiny pocket sized mirror. Peggy groaned to herself. What a woman does for love and affection a man will never understand completely.

"They were in the bedroom and they are terrible little pests," Peggy followed Dale into the bedroom. "I can hear them scratching all night long and it's driving me mad," She watched Dale take his spray pack off and look around the bedroom. Peggy gained her courage and looked at her reflection in the mirror once more and licked her thin lips and smiled erotically at herself. She was smokin' hot. She pulled her skirt up to reveal her garters and crossed her arms.

"Dale," she whispered in a heavy lustful voice. Dale sat up from behind the bed and looked at her. For the first time, he acknowledged that Hank had a pretty fine wife. Her legs were a little thicker than he liked but they were still sexy and long. Her breasts spilled over her blue blouse and her hair was a wild, but sexy mess atop her head. He gasped and clutched his chest. Her face was filled with sex. Her eyes said that she was horny as hell and ready to bed him right then and there in the bed that she shared with his best friend. Dale came out of his daze and saw Peggy sit down right in front of him as he knelt on the floor looking for the alleged 'mole'. He blushed as she uncrossed her thick and creamy white legs to reveal that there were no panties underneath that tiny little mini skirt that should have been illegal in the state of Texas.

"I think I found that mole, Mrs. Hill," Dale whispered as she turned his hat to the back and kissed him full on. Dale knew this was wrong, but the truth was, Nancy had not been sexual with him since she started to get her headache treatments from John Redcorn again. He was starved physically and anything was looking good to him, even Boomhauer.