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: Merry Christmas. It's Yule time here on Tool Time.
Al: Merry Christmas. You know, Christmas always reminds me of my childhood. I used to build a snowman every year. I used a carrot for its nose, cookies for its eyes, licorice for its smile.
Tim: Ah, that's a great story, Al. Unfortunately, Al's mom usually ate the snowman.
Al: One year. She used the carrot to make coleslaw.

Tim: Hey, guys. Pretty awesome lights out there, huh?
Randy: It's really hot out there. I don't know if all that straw around the baby Jesus is such a great idea.
Tim: Randy, he's the Son of God. He'll be fine.

Tim: Honey, why did you turn the light off of Frosty?
Jill: There was a plane headed for our house, Tim.

Tim: Hi, Wilson. Do you have that old diesel generator? I'm gonna light up this revolving Santa on my roof.
Wilson: I'm sorry, Tim. I loaned that to the good doctor.
Tim: What?
Wilson: Oh, he did ask for it first. I could give you some tinsel and a nine-volt battery.
Tim: That's pretty funny, Wilson.
Wilson: Tim, I sense some competition between you and the good doctor.
Tim: No, I'm just decorating my house. I notice you don't decorate your house at Christmas, though.
Wilson: Well, actually, Tim. I decorate within. I have a tree in my heart, a wreath in my mind, and a star in my soul.
Tim: And you plug it in your bellybutton.

Tim: How many lines does the stupid innkeeper have?
Randy: One lousy line.
All: "There's no room at the inn."
Tim: Got an idea. Right after you say your line, "There's no room at the inn", add this: "You should have called our 1-800 reservation hotline."

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]

Tim: So, Wilson, what are you doing?
Wilson: Well, Tim, I'm carving a nativity scene out of giant radishes. What do you think of my Three Wise Men?
Tim: I think they should come bearing onion dip.
Wilson: [chuckles] See, this is part of the Mexican custom of Noche de Rabanos.
Tim: Um... Night of the Bathroom?
Wilson: No, no, no, no, no, Tim. Night of the Radishes. You see, every Christmas, farming families would head into town and display their tuberous creations.

Jill: I just don't understand why you have to go away the day before Christmas.
Tim: We've been through this before. Binford is the proud sponsor of this year's Winterfest in Kinross, and Al and I playing very important roles.
Jill: Tim, you are a grand marshal of an elf parade!
Tim: Even little green people need a leader, honey.
Jill: Well, I don't know how you can leave me for a bunch of elves.
Tim: Well, I'll be home before dinner. I'm not gonna go to the pointy-shoe banquet.

Tim: All right. Great news, guys. This year you're going to help me beat Doc Johnson in the lighting contest.
Mark: Cool. I can't believe you're going to let us help this year.
Tim: Well, you've earned it. You're a year older, more mature, more responsible.
Randy: And since you're going out of town, you have no choice.
Tim: Hey, hey, hey! What have I always taught you what Christmas is all about?
Randy: Beating the pants off an 80-year-old proctologist in a lighting contest.
Tim: That's the spirit.