Jill: We gotta talk to Al.
Tim: What are you doing? Don't talk... No.
Jill: They're going way too fast. Way too fast. She practically moved in before dessert. Her car stalls once on the way over, and by the end of the night, she thinks she can't make it home? "Oh, gee, Al. Maybe I'd better stay on your couch." How long do you think she's going to be alone on that couch?
Tim: Knowing Al, six months. Come on.