Despite Cotton’s hate-filled monologues and spiteful rejoinders to King of the Hill protagonist Hank Hill (or, as Cotton referred to him, “Bad Hank”) and daughter-in-law Peggy (whom he called “Hank’s Wife” as an indication of her subservience), his undying devotion to grandson Bobby, god, and country had all of the yesteryear enchantment of an Andrew Sisters’ ballad or a matinee double-feature. In short, Cotton Hill was painted as an unusually three-dimensional character in a medium long known for its flatness of exposition.

One of Cotton’s more memorable speeches came during a first season introduction when he recounted his days in the South Pacific to his son’s friends:

"I was 14, just a little older than Bobby. But I knew Uncle Sam needed me, so I lied and signed up. We had beat the Nazzys in Italy, and they shipped me to the Pacific theater. A Tojo torpedo sent our troop ship to the bottom. I could only save three of my buddies: Fatty, Stinky, and Brooklyn. They were kind of like you fellas [to Bill, Dale, and Boomhauer], only one of them was from Brooklyn. Out of the sun came a Tojo Zero and put fiddy bullets in my back. The blood attracted sharks. I had to give 'em Fatty. Then things took a turn for the worse. I made it to an island, but it was full of Tojos! They were spitting on the US flag! So I rushed 'em, but it was a trap. They opened fire and blew my shins off. Last thing I remember, I beat 'em all to death with a big piece of Fatty. I woke up in a field hospital, and they were sewing my feet to my knees."

Much of his other trademark Texan argot recognizable to us Lone Star natives and emigres - “sammiches,"“Cadillac car," “som’bitch," and a whole host of chauvinist and sexist “woooomans” - was a humorous, tongue-in-cheek reminder of innumerable Southern memories, both embarassing and endearing.

In the hours following Sunday’s episode, the official FOX message board lit up with angry responses from loyal viewers who threatened to boycott the show unless the recently deceased was resurrected immediately. Some posters speculated Cotton’s death was the result of the looming TV writer’s strike while others thought it was cartoon creator Mike Judge’s first acknowledgment of the series’ imminent cancellation. The show is currently in its twelfth season. Others wrote that they were brought to tears by Cotton’s unusually perverse and humiliating end on the grilling table of a Japanese restaurant. The typically kind hearted comedy series turned extremely dramatic and dark when it pitted the family against one another in the excruciating final moments. Only an uproariously violent explosion instigated by Hill neighbor Dale Gribble - resident NRA activist and conspiracy theorist - eased the very solemn occasion.

This is not the first time King of the Hill has dealt with the death of a recurring character. Season two saw the premature end of Luanne Platter’s (yes, to those in the know, an obscure reference to the Southern restaurant chain - Luby’s Cafeteria) teenage boyfriend Buckley.

The episode can now be viewed in its entirety online here, though if you are like me, you may want to have some Kleenex nearby and a close Texan on the speed-dial for sympathy.