Joe: Hey, I got a dress guy who'll get you the same thing for half.
Tim: No.
Jill: Really? For half?
Joe: Mm-hmm.
Jill: Not a knockoff? Not a second?
Joe: The same exact dress. It's completely on the up and up.
Jill: Wow. OK. What's his name?
Joe: Can't say.
Jill: Well, what's his number?
Joe: No, no, you don't call him. He calls you.
Tim: And when he calls, you say, "The swallows fly... at midnight."

Jill: No, really. Is this on the up and up? You swear?
Joe: I guarantee it. I've known the guy for years. I'll have him call you tomorrow.
Jill: Great. OK. But make sure, because I gotta have this by the end of the week. There's the designer, this is the dress size. Don't tell anybody.

Jill: Oh, good. He's finally here. [opens door] Oh, no. It's just Al.
Al: It's not exactly "Glad to see you," but I'll take it.
Jill: Sorry. It's just that I'm waiting for somebody.
Al: Well, you look great.
Jill: I'm wearing a robe. Doesn't anybody notice? I'm wearing a robe!

Joe: Boy, your wife is really steamed.
Tim: Welcome to my world.
Joe: Oh, there's Jill's picture. I'm going to write something nice on it. Maybe she won't be so mad at me. [sees the picture] That's the picture you picked out?
Tim: Well, it looked a lot better on her driver's license, I'll tell you that.
Joe: You blew up her driver's license?
Tim: It's all I could find. She hid all the photo albums.
Joe: Oh, boy, are you in trouble.
Tim: No. I'm dead. I'm past dead. I'm deader than dead.
Joe: You know, but the good news is, I'm off the hook. [chuckles] I'm gonna get something to eat.

Brad: Hey, Dad, I beat Al. I got a hole in one.
Al: Yes, he got a hole in one! Do we have to keep hearing about it? Brad got a hole in one. Yippee, yippee, yippee.
Tim: Sounds like you ruffled a few feathers.
Randy: When he plays miniature golf, he's like a different person.
Tim: That could be a good thing.
Brad: Dad, he's psycho golfer.
Al: I happen to take the game seriously.

Tim: I'm real sorry about this picture, Jill.
Jill: Look, I'm not just upset about the picture. I'm upset because of the fact that you never even realized how important this whole night was to me.
Tim: I know now.
Jill: Well, you should've known before. I've been talking about the library fund-raiser for months, and every time I do, your eyes just glaze over, and you go, "Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh."
Tim: Uh-huh.

Tim: Today on Tool Time, the name of the game is frames. You can frame a house. [holds up a picture of a wooden frame] You can frame your lenses. [holds up a picture of glasses] You can frame... a co-worker. [holds up a mug shot of Al]
Al: Tim, we're supposed to be talking about picture frames. Now, a good frame can accentuate the beauty of any subject.
Tim: Of course, there's exceptions to every rule. [holds up a photo frame around Al's head]

Tim: While Al's busy working, I'd like to veer off the subject for a little bit, if I could. I don't think men know just how selfish we can be sometimes. I know it might come to a shock to the audience here, but the old "Tool Man" can be a little insensitive at times.
Al: I know I'm taken aback.
Tim: How often do we put ourselves aside and think about the women in our lives we cherish? I know all the wives out there know I'm kidding around...
[As Tim holds up a picture of himself and a cartoon of a housewife with a rolling pin, Al holds up the Tool Time mail box address]

Tim: You've prepared your surface. Now you're ready to paint. You want your bedroom the color of a football. Your wife wants it the color of a daisy. What color do you prefer, men?
Men: Football!
Tim: Hey, hey!
Al: Daisy.
Women: [cheer and applaud]
Al: Well, Tim, I like my bedroom to be light and airy.
Tim: Just like Al.

Tim: We're going to paint the bedroom the color of a football. Now, how do we match this color perfectly?
Al: Well, Tim, we use the Binford 250 Paint Boy.
Tim: Right.
Al: It mixes the color and analyzes the pigments.
Tim: Would that be the Three Little Pigments?
Al: No, Tim, it wouldn't.
Tim: Take your football, set it underneath the electric eye, press your color key, and boom - we've got ourselves Touchdown Brown.