Marty: Oh, listen. If Tim is anything like Bob, he'll never change. Every night it's the same. Seven o'clock: "Where's the food?" Seven-oh-five: "You call that food?" Seven-fifteen: "Why'd you let me eat so much food?"
Jill: Tim does all that. Then he opens his pants, sticks out his gut, and belches.
Delores: Nobody is more set in his ways than Harry. Every Saturday night at 11:30 after the sports report, he wakes me up and asks the same question: "You want to do it?"
Marge: And they say romance is dead.
Delores: It's been that way for 25 years. I wish he could be a little more spontaneous and skip a Saturday every once in a while.