Tim: Welcome to Tool Time. I am Tim "The Tool Man" Taylor. And I intend to remain him. And you all know my assistant, Al Borland.
Al: Thank you.
Tim: Oh, I'm excited. Today we have a globally significant Tool Time. We're doing our Tool Time salute... [gong rings]
Both: ...to international relations.
Al: In today's world, manufacturing superpowers compete for the leading edge in consumer products. Competition is healthy but so much more can be accomplished if you work together...
Tim: Al?
Al: ...harmoniously.
Tim: Al! My show, okay?

Al: Hey, Tim, so your family is going away this weekend?
Tim: Yeah.
Al: You want to hang out?
Tim: Nope.
Al: Okay, then. Nice talking to you.
Tim: Al, it has nothing to do with you. Just being alone this weekend will give me the perfect chance to write that book for Binford.
Al: You're still writing that thing? Didn't they give you the advance, like, six months ago?
Tim: Yes. And I spent the advance six months ago.

Tim: Whoo! Whoo! I'm all by myself! Miss you! I can do whatever I want! Anything I want to do. What do we want to do? Let's think. What do we want to do? First...
Tim: [inner monologue] Take a nap. Then go to a strip club or a drag race. Have a snack! Then I'll nap in the chair or the couch. Chair or couch? Couch!
Tim: Yes! No. Gotta write. Write, write, write, write, write. Well, I'll just get started. Okay, okay. All right.
Tim: [inner monologue] 4:00. I'll write for four hours straight. Figure 30 pages per hour, by 8:00, I'm up to 120.
Tim: Then I get to eat.
Tim: [inner monologue] I'm actually ahead of schedule.
Tim: So let's eat.

Tim: Look at all the food Jill made me. Macaroni and cheese, pot roast. Oh, boy! Tuna casserole. So nice of her. [on the phone] Yes. I'd like to order a pizza. Let's get a large with onions and double sausage.
Tim: [inner monologue] That's a little fatty.
Tim: You have turkey sausage?
Tim: [inner monologue] What are you? A hairdresser?
Tim: How about just vegetables?
Tim: [inner monologue] You can't stand vegetables.
Tim: Put double cheese on it. Yeah. Tim Taylor. You got my address? Yes. I rewired the doorbell. Thank you. [hangs up]
Tim: [inner monologue] What a wuss! It was only a second-degree burn.

Tim: All right. Okay, all right. Here we go. "A." "A." "B." "C." "B." "C." "A." "O." "O." "O." "R." "A." "C." [phone rings] Right when I was getting hot!

Tim: [answers phone] Hello? What? Hi, Mary Lou. Am I satisfied with my long-distance carrier?
Tim: [inner monologue] Tim.
Tim: Suppose. Yes. What?
Tim: [inner monologue] Hello?
Tim: No. Ma'am?
Tim: [inner monologue] Hey, bonehead!
Tim: Wait. Hold it. This is really a bad time for me.
[timelapse]
Tim: Okay, Mary Lou, let me get this straight. In order to get the mid-week discount of four cents a minute... Uh-huh. Yeah. Look, I have to call 1,700 times between Saturday and that following Thursday after 6:00. Just sign me up! No more phone calls.
Tim: [inner monologue] Well, that worked out well, Tim. Hour and a half on the phone, you saved 26 cents.

Tim: [inner monologue] Nice chatting with you, too, Cyber Fred. No! You prove that I'm not Marlon Brando, pal! [sighs] Cyberspace e-mail! Look at the time! The greatest writers of all time never had a computer. They used stone tablets and chisels, bark, Latin. The password is...
Tim: Legal pad. Paper, pencils.
Tim: [inner monologue] What makes legal pads legal? Is there such a thing as an illegal pad? What's legal about yellow? Pencils are yellow. It's wood. That's a nice pencil.
Tim: Okay. Pencil. Check. Eraser. Go. Lead. Go. All systems go, we have liftoff. [imitates rocket engine]

Tim: [inner monologue] Throughout history, man has... Here we go. A little hair. Very good. Now, see, if this thing was a comic book, I'd have one page done already.

Tim: [inner monologue] Men have different energy than women.
Tim: [to tape recorder] Men have different energy than women.
Tim: [inner monologue] We're take charge.
Tim: [to tape recorder] We take charge.
Tim: [inner monologue] We're go-getters.
Tim: [to tape recorder] Go-getters!
Tim: [inner monologue] This is ridiculous. I can't write on the couch. I gotta go to a place that pumps me up. Outside? Upstairs. Kitchen, no. The garage! Bingo-bango-bongo! [doorbell rings] But, first, I'll enjoy a little pizza.

Pizza Guy: Sorry I'm late. My car broke down.
Tim: Is that a GTO?
Pizza Guy: Yeah. I restore old Goats.
Tim: Car guy. I'm building a hot rod in the garage. A '46 Ford convertible.
Pizza Guy: Whoa. You got time to show it to me?
Tim: Do I have time?