Tim: Great party. So, what's with Agatha?
Wilson: Oh, you think she's odd, don't you?
Tim: Well, I don't know. "Odd" is kind of a strong word. Confusing, interesting, and kind of...
Wilson: Oh, Tim, you think she's mildly delusional.
Tim: I think she's a certifiable nut case, to be honest with you.
Wilson: I find her a little bit peculiar myself.
Tim: Well, why is she still your special friend, then?
Wilson: Tim, I've tried to break up with her three times, but she won't take no for an answer. I mean, have you ever dated a woman who scared you? [Tim waves to Jill] I mean, if you were in my position, what would you do?
Tim: Well, like you would tell me. I mean... You gotta be honest, straightforward. Tell her that it's just, you know, nicely, that it's over.
Wilson: Yes.
Tim: And if that doesn't work, drop a house on her.

Tim: Well, I just steered Wilson's romantic life in the right direction.
Jill: What are you talking about?
Tim: Well, he wasn't getting along with his new special friend. So I suggested he just call it off.
Jill: Tim, you shouldn't be butting into his personal life! I can't believe he listened to you!
Tim: We're very close friends, you know? He trusts me. We talk about emotional stuff. You know, I'm a lot more perceptive than you give me credit for.
Jill: Really?
Tim: Yes.
Jill: Your tail's on fire.

Jill: Wilson's phone is still busy.
Tim: It's probably Agatha trying to yak her way back into his life.
Brad: Hey, guys. When's dinner? I'm starving.
Tim: We're waiting for Wilson. He was supposed to be here for dinner 30 minutes ago.
Jill: This is not like Wilson. He's usually very punctual.
Tim: Well, maybe the wind shifted, he caught a whiff of your meat loaf.

Tim: You guys stay here. I'll go over there. But I'm gonna need some protection, guys.
[Tim picks up a pan lid and a meat fork]
Brad: Well, that's a great weapon if you're attacked by a brisket.

Detective Roberts: Do you know of anyone who might hold a grudge against Mr. Wilson?
Tim: Yeah. This Agatha.
Detective Roberts: You got a last name?
Tim: No.
Detective Roberts: Can you give me a description?
Tim: Yeah. She was about 5'7", blonde hair, good-looking, a witch. A witch?
Detective Roberts: I better call the boys from the Emerald City precinct.
Tim: No, no, no. She said she was a real witch.

Brad: Hey, Dad. What's going on?
Tim: Well, McMillan and Wife think I had something to do with his disappearance.
Brad: You?
Detective MacIntyre: My name is Maclntyre.
Detective Roberts: I'm Roberts.
Jill: I'm Taylor.

Wilson: Little Mozart. Little Mozart. Little... Mozart! Where are you?
Tim: [o.s.] Hey, Wilson! He's up here! Somehow he got out of the cage. He's up here on this wire!
Wilson: Tim, you be careful!
Tim: [o.s.] It's okay. I got him. He's right next to me. Come here, Mozart! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa... [screams]
Wilson: Oh, my God! Oh, Lord! Tim! Tim! Tim, are you all right? Tim?
[As Wilson checks on the body that fell from the roof, Tim walks up behind him]
Tim: [chuckles] Who's the king now?
Mozart: Tim's the king. Tim's the king.

Tim: Wow, is it Halloween already? Geez! It slipped my mind. Before you guys go, would one of you get me some juice?
Brad: Okay.
[When Brad opens the refrigerator, it is filled with bloody plastic heads. Brad grabs one]
Brad: Oh, cute, Dad.
Mark: Nice head.
Tim: Cute?
Brad: Did I say cute? I meant terrifying! Ooh!
Tim: That didn't shock you at all?
Mark: I tried to be scared.

Jill: Good morning, sweetie.
Tim: Good morning!
Jill: I have so many things to do today, I don't even know where to get started.
Tim: Hey, you could start off with a nice hot, relaxing cup of tea.
Jill: Oh, that's a good idea.
[When Jill turns on the tap, a bloody plastic limb pops out of the disposal]
Jill: Oh, my God! Today is Halloween! I almost forgot. I gotta go pick up those costumes before Wilson's party tonight.
Tim: Honey?
Jill: What? [off Tim's look] Oh! I'm sorry, honey. That was really an adorable gag.

Tim: Can we take a look at our first device over here?
Al: What's wrong with your hands?
Tim: Nothing. Nothing at all. Just fell asleep backstage. I'll do this... [hammers his "hand"] Probably be up all night now. All right. Now, look at this. You don't see craftsmanship like this anymore.
Al: Thank goodness! This happens to be a rack. It was used to pull people apart.
Tim: But not today! Today it's a lovely fabric stretcher. Just follow me. Let's say you've shrunk your wife's favorite sweater, right? A few cranks on this bad boy, it is good as new.
Al: If your wife happens to be an orangutan.
Tim: Don't rule it out, buddy. Your old clock is ticking, Al. And I mean that in a very nice way.
Al: You know, I'm not falling for this ridiculously fake arm for one second!
Tim: What are you talking about, fake arms? I have a pinched nerve. You laughing at that? Never mind him.