Tim: This will be my most exciting lighting display ever. The guys at the power plant will be working overtime for this bad boy, huh?
Mark: Uh, you might want to read this flyer. I found it in the mailbox. It's from the lighting contest committee.
Tim: "Because certain rooftop displays have continually exceeded the bounds of prudent energy consumption and good taste, this year's lighting contest will be strictly regulated"?!
Randy: They're pulling the plug on you, Dad.
Tim: What makes you think this has to do with me?
Randy: It says right here, "To be referred to, henceforth, as the Tim Taylor clause".
Tim: This is bunk. This is bunk. Come on! "Electricity is limited to two 20-amp breakers." Who can work with that? "No bulbs over 25 watts." Ha, ha! "Maximum height of elves, three feet." What kind of elf is three foot tall?
Brad: Yeah, well, this one's gonna kill you. "Nativity scenes may include only characters specifically mentioned in the Bible."
Randy: Which means no more Three Stooges.
Tim: Those were the Three Wise Men.
Randy: Oh, really? Then why were they poking each other in the eye?
Tim: To break up the trip.

Al: Well, in the meantime, why don't we look at some stocking stuffers from Binford?
Heidi: This year, say "Merry Christmas" with how-to videos starring Tim and Al.
Al: That's right. Show your loved ones how to get rid of that annoying hum from lights in Silence of the Lamps.
Heidi: And learn when to use nails instead of adhesives in Glueless.
Al: And my personal favorite, The Nutty Compressor. They loved this one in France.

Jill: I'm sorry, I'm just upset about this whole thing with my mother and her new boyfriend.
Wilson: Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, mm-hmm.
Jill: Tim says I should wait till after the holidays to talk to her about it, but I'm acting so crazy. I'm throwing baked goods at Keith Partridge. I don't know. What do you think?
Wilson: Well, he's no Greg Brady, but....
Jill: No! I mean, what do you think about whether I should talk to her.
Wilson: Well, I agree with the poet William Blake, who said, "I was angry with my friend I told my wrath My wrath did end".
Jill: Yeah, but if I talk to her it could ruin her Christmas.
Wilson: If you don't talk to her, it could ruin everybody else's.

Tim: It's your mom and dad at their wedding.
Jill: Yeah, I found it in her house after the funeral, so I had it restored. I'm gonna give it to her for Christmas.
Tim: They did a really nice job restoring this. They were actually able to airbrush a smile over your dad's scowl.
Jill: No, that's a real smile.
Tim: You said he never smiled at their wedding.
Jill: No, no, no. He never smiled at our wedding.

Tim: What is that smell?
Jill: I'm making us a special Christmas cake. It's really cool. It's got pineapple and mangoes and papaya.
Tim: It's a fruitcake. Everybody hates fruitcake.
Jill: I know that. This is not a fruitcake. This is a Christmas cake with... fruit.
Tim: "Cake with fruit." Reverse that. "Fruitcake."

Tim: Where are the boys? I need some help.
Jill: They're still picking up Mom from the airport. Listen, um, when she gets here I want you to be extra nice to her.
Tim: Oh. Now you tell me. I just short-sheeted her bed.
Jill: No. You know, I want this to be a really great holiday for her. It's the first one since Dad died, and she's bound to be a little depressed.
Tim: If anything will lift her spirits, it will be the new lighting display. Guess who's bearing frankincense this year? [pulls out cardboard cut-out of Frankenstein as a wise man]

Jill: Hey, don't take it out on me just 'cause the neighborhood put the kibosh on your lighting display.
Tim: You say "ki-bosh," I say "pish-tosh". I got Wilson to be my partner.
Jill: Oh, is he going to help you do the roof?
Tim: No, no. He's gonna give me two 20-amp circuits. He's not decorating his roof, so I get his allotment of electricity. Means I get more wattage. It means I can make elves the size of Shaquille O'Neal.
Jill: I can't believe Wilson would go along with this after reading that flyer.
Tim: [throws crumpled leaflet in the trash] I'm not sure he read it.

Jill: So how was the trip back with Brad from the airport?
Lillian: Well, it was a lot less scary than when I ride with Tim. I never knew Detroit had stop signs.
Tim: Roundish red things. Yeah, I've seen them.

Lillian: Oh, Jill, the tree looks beautiful.
Jill: Yes, it does, doesn't it? Well, except for this spark plug here.
Lillian: That's right. Every year Tim sneaks auto parts onto the tree.
Jill: And on Easter we have a muffler hunt.

Tim: Look at this. A Partridge in a pear tree. [holds up a cardboard cut-out of a pear tree with the head of David Cassidy as Keith Partridge stuck on it]