Tim: What do you got in the tropical room?
Wilson: Myna bird.
Bird: [squawks] Hi-de-ho, good neighbor. [squawks]
Tim: Why, it's got a beak on it, doesn't it? Wilson!
Wilson: Mozart, let him go.

Jill: Uh, Wilson, these hors d'oeuvres look really interesting.
Wilson: Those are authentic Pilgrim foretastes.
Jill: Mm.
Wilson: That's eel pie.
Tim: Mm.

Jill: Well, I am really gonna miss him.
Tim: I'm really gonna miss him.
Jill: He's always been there whenever we needed him. I mean, you can be totally honest with him and he never judges you. I always felt like he was a member of the family.
Tim: I like him better than most of your family.

Tim: I'm sorry I never met Kathryn.
Wilson: Oh, you would have liked her, Tim. You would have liked her. We were like two dicotyledons in a Phaseolus.
Tim: What?
Wilson: Two peas in a pod. You like to see a picture of Kathryn?
Wilson: I'd love to.
Tim: What else don't I know about you, Wilson? Were you ever a spy?
Wilson: Well, I could tell you, Tim, but then I'd have to kill you.

Tim: It still smells in here. What is that smell?
Jill: I don't know.
Tim: It smells like that fish that Wilson cooks at Christmas.
Jill: You mean lutefisk?
Tim: Remember last year? There were skunks picketing the neighborhood. "Stop it!"
Jill: This is way worse than lutefisk.
Tim: Nothing is worse than lutefisk.

Tim: It's here. Ugh! There it is. Probably a dead rodent. Rat.
Jill: A dead rat! Ew!
Tim: Don't say "ew." Something good will come out of this.
Jill: What good could possibly come out of a dead rodent in your wall?
Tim: I get to knock a big hole in there.

Tim: Why would Wilson have his house appraised?
Jill: I don't know. Well, people do it all the time. Maybe he's refinancing.
Tim: Or maybe he wants to know what it's worth so he can sell it.
Jill: Oh, I don't think he'd sell the house without telling us about it. Gosh, I hope he's not having financial problems.
Tim: Well, he has been wearing that hat for an awful long time.
Tim: I bet he wants to sell his house.
Jill: No. I think you're jumping to conclusions.
Tim: Hm. I smell a rat.

Tim: Hey, Wilson. Speaking of trains - you know, trains move people, people move. [Jill elbows Tim] I think my rib just moved.

Tim: I can't stand that smell anymore. I'm gonna get that rat.
Jill: I just can't believe that he's leaving. Why would he pick up and go like that?
Tim: He told you why. He's going down to Kumbaya-Gumbah... to rekindle his spirit and fillet his soul.

Tim: Hi there, Wilson.
Wilson: Hi-ho, elevated neighbor. So what are you doing?
Tim: Patching the hole I think that rat got in. What are you up to?
Wilson: Well, while it's warm enough, I'm trying to patch up some cracks in my driveway, but the cement seems too lumpy.
Tim: My rule with cement: If it's got less lumps than Jill's gravy, it's probably all right.