Randy: Hey, pea-brain, what are you doing?
Mark: Getting a piece of bread to feed the birds in the backyard.
Brad: You doofus. Birds don't eat bread. They eat worms.
Randy: Yeah, you have to do what a mommy bird does.
Mark: What's that?
Randy: Chew up the worms and spit it into the baby bird's mouth.
Mark: Eww. I'm not eating any worms.
Brad: Well, if you want the baby birds to starve...
Mark: Maybe I could just eat one worm.
Brad: Now you're talking.

Jill: Hey, Wilson.
Wilson: Hi-ho, lady neighbor.
Jill: What are you doing over there?
Wilson: Oh, just letting off a little bit of steam, Jill. Hmm. Nothing relaxes me more than a good game of croquet.
Jill: Can I ask you something?
Wilson: Step up to the wicket, Jill.

Eddie: Your wife certainly lights up a room.
Tim: Yes, she certainly does.
Eddie: I'm glad to see that the two of you worked things out.
Tim: Well, I don't know how we worked things out. I apologized. I just don't think I'm ever gonna figure her out.
Eddie: Don't. You know, I was married to Tildy for 45 years, and this woman - God rest her soul - used to drive me absolutely crazy. She had these ugly little porcelain cats that she used to love to line up on the window sill. And every day for 45 years I used to take those cats off the window sill and put 'em in a cupboard. And every day for 45 years she'd take 'em out of the cupboard and put 'em back.
Tim: Where are they now?
Eddie: On the window sill.
Tim: You didn't throw them out?
Eddie: What for? You know, you don't have to understand a woman. All you got to do is love her.

Jill: Tim, I want your opinion about a dress.
Tim: [to Mark] Save yourself. Run. Go now. Run! It's too late for me. Get out of here! Go! I'll distract her.
Jill: Very cute. Very cute. Which dress do you like?
Tim: Either one. They both look nice.
Jill: I don't wanna look nice. I wanna look different.
Tim: Well, put 'em both on. Go for that layered look.

Jill: I told you about this Wednesday morning.
Tim: No, you didn't.
Jill: Yes, I most certainly did. You just weren't listening, as usual.
Tim: Oh, wasn't listening. Why don't you repeat these things? Every time you say something important, you're walking out of the room. "Oh honey, by the way, this is very important... The health of our family relies on this... fa-fa-fa-fa-fa... Saturday night."
Jill: Well, did you keep Saturday night open?
Tim: Why should I? I didn't know what all that fa-fa-fa-fa-fa was.

Tim: Anyway, the way a man treats his machine says something about the man. It says pride. Pride in workmanship, and that's what it's all about.
Hick: You tell 'em, junior.
Tim: Boy, I like that kind of enthusiasm. You know what I'm talking about?
Hick: I sure do. Me and my partner here, we've been building cars for 42 years.
Tim: No kidding?
Hick: No, it's true. We were on the assembly line at the Dearborn plant out ther on Miller Road.
Tim: Why don't we talk to these guys? Two American workers. Let's get 'em down here. Come on, guys.

Tim: It must've been a great day, watching that first T-Bird roll off that line.
Eddie: Oh, great day. But they were all good days back then. You know, we used to knock out about 100 cars a day. And after work, Hick and me, we'd go down and have a stinky.
Tim: Stinky?
Eddie: Yeah, it's a sandwich.
Hick: My own invention - Limburger cheese, sauerkraut, big slice of Bermuda onion, and some hot mustard.
Eddie: Whoo-hoo.
Tim: Why don't you just lick a skunk?
Eddie: And, Tim, they still make a great stinky at... [to camera] down at Big Mike's Tavern at fourth and Jefferson! Hey, that ought to take care of our tab.
Hick: Yeah, right.
Tim: Big Mike's Tavern. Boy, that sounds like a man's bar there.
Hick: You know it, junior. Pool tables, dark wood, American beer.
Eddie: We go there all the time, fourth and Jefferson!

Jill: I'm really excited. I found the perfect thing to wear. It's a little daring, but I think it's fun.
Tim: A tuxedo?
Jill: Yeah. What do you think? What's so funny?
Tim: I've just never been out with a maître d' before.

Tim: I didn't mean that. I was being polite.
Jill: She thought you meant it. I thought you meant it. You should say what you mean.
Tim: Like you do.
Jill: Yes, like I do.
Tim: Wasn't it you that said Mrs. Larson looked "just hideous" in that purple muumuu or whatever she had one?
Jill: Well, she did look hideous. She looked like a giant eggplant. So?
Tim: Ah-ha. But when she comes over a second time, you said, "Oh, Mrs. Larson, you look lovely." Why don't you say what you mean? "You look hideous, you big fat muumuu."

Hick: We promised you a stinky. Mike, fix him a nice big one.
Mike: Coming right up.
Tim: Mike. Mike, don't bother.
Mike: It's not gonna bother me. I'm not the one eating it.