Jill: Oh, good. Guys, hold it. Hold it. Hold it. I got 250 flyers I gotta send out for the library fund-raiser. I gotta stuff 'em, fold them, stamp them, address them tonight. Who wants to volunteer?
Brad: Good luck.
Randy: See ya.
Mark: Bye.
Jill: Who wants their allowance this week?
Randy: I'll help.
Brad: So will I.
Mark: Me too.
Jill: I knew I could count on you boys. There you go.

Jill: So how was your day?
Tim: John Binford died.
Jill: What?
Tim: He had a massive heart attack.
Brad: You're not gonna make us go to the funeral, are you?
Randy: There's no way I'm going.
Jill: Hey, guys, be quiet for a sec. When is the funeral gonna be?
Tim: Uh, Tuesday at noon.
Randy: A school day. Oh... poor Mr. Binford.
Brad: Yeah, I really loved him.

Jill: Tim, don't you wanna talk about this?
Tim: Not really.
Jill: Well, I'd like to talk about it.
Tim: Why don't you call Al?
Jill: I don't wanna talk to Al. I wanna talk to you. I mean, John Binford meant a lot to both of us. He not only gave you your first job, he loaned us the money for this house. I mean, he was the first person there when all the boys were born. He was a sweet, wonderful man.
Tim: You're not gonna cry, are ya?
Jill: Well, yeah, I might.
Tim: What is it with everybody today? You know, you're crying. Al, today at Big Mike's, was blubbering like a baby.
Jill: Honey, there is nothing wrong with crying when somebody close to you dies.
Tim: It wasn't just his crying. He was singing "Oh, Danny Boy."

Jill: You are completely avoiding your emotions. I know you've gotta be feeling something.
Tim: I'm feeling like playing a little basketball. And I wish everybody would mind their own business about this. John is dead. He's gone. End of the line. Next stop, tool heaven!
[Tim walks out and closes the door. A moment later, he walks back in and heads towards Jill]
Tim: Ball.
[After Jill throws him the ball, Tim leaves again]

Tim: All right, sodas for the winners in the biggest basketball victory in YMCA history.
Randy: Huh. Yeah, some victory - you and Brad beating me and Mark. Who you gonna take on next? Nana and Grandpa?
Tim: Forget about it! Nana's way too tough under the boards.
Mark: I think we should take on Nana and Grandpa.
Randy: Good, Mark.

Brad: Dad, I was real proud of you tonight.
Tim: Thanks. It wasn't easy driving to the basket against Mark.
Brad: I'm talking about what happened with Mr. Binford. I think you've been taking it like a man.
Tim: Well, I don't think Mom thinks so. She thinks I should get all teary-eyed over this thing.
Brad: That would be stupid.
Tim: It wouldn't be stupid.
Brad: Dad, guys don't cry.
Tim: Yes, guys cry.
Brad: Like when?
Tim: If you scratch the paint on that hot rod, you watch... [sobs]
Brad: Yeah, but you don't cry.
Tim: How do you know that?
Brad: 'Cause you don't let stuff get to you.
Tim: You know, stuff gets to me.
Brad: Well, the great part is, no one can tell.

Tim: No, seriously. Do you ever cry?
Wilson: Well, Tim, I have been known to weep on occasion.
Tim: Well, I'm not much in the tears department. I'm afraid Brad is growing up thinking that's the way it should be.
Wilson: And that bothers you?
Tim: Kind of, yeah.
Wilson: Hmm. Does this have anything to do with Mr. Binford?
Tim: How'd you hear about that?
Wilson: Jill told me she needed somebody to talk to. She said you were out shooting hoops.

Tim: Thank you, Heidi, and thank you, everybody. Welcome to Tool Time. I am Tim "The Tool Man" Taylor. You all know my assistant - Al "Cry Me a River" Borland. Ha-ha-ha.
Al: If I didn't let my feelings out, Tim, I would not be the man I am today.
Tim: That's food for thought, isn't it?

Tim: You know, I think we should bid John farewell in the Tool Time fashion - a little tribute to John Binford with a Binford 21 nail-gun salute.
Al: Do you... think this is a little dangerous, Tim?
Tim: No, wait. Warren, the protective drop cloth, please.
Al: Have you tried this?
Tim: Well, with the drop cloths, it will collect all the nails. It'll be perfect.
Al: Well, you've tried this?
Tim: Hold on, hold on. Klaus, some music, please. ["Taps" plays] So long, Johnny.

Brad: Hi, guys. How was the funeral?
Tim: It was great. There was tool reps from everywhere. All these I remember from the old days.
Jill: You never saw so many tear-stained beer bellies. And poor Al, blubbering about some water spigot?
Tim: He was broken up about that, wasn't he?
Jill: Not as broken up as you were.
Brad: You cried?
Jill: He cried more than the widow.
Tim: That's 'cause she didn't have to pay for parking.
Jill: I'm gonna go change.
Brad: Dad, I can't believe you cried.
Tim: I can't believe I did, either. I thought I said goodbye on Tool Time. Once I started talking with those guys, it just came out. But you know what? After I was crying, I felt like... Like a pathetic old woman.