Wilson: You know, Tim, the Roman orator Appius Claudius Caecus once said that every man is the architect of his own fortune. Now, Marty is a man. He's not a boy anymore.
Tim: When he was a kid, he'd listen to me anytime I wanted. All I had to do was tie him to a tree and pour root beer on his pointed little head.
Wilson: Tim, I think what your brother needs is for you to be a brother and a friend.
Tim: Instead of a "frother," more of a "briend."
Wilson: In a manner of speaking.
Tim: Night, Wilson.
Wilson: Sayonara, Tim.
Tim: Uh, marinara to you, too.