Tim: So you're not gonna move to Bobo-Brazil?
Wilson: No. No, I think I'm gonna stay right here.
Tim: All right. That's real good news. That's real good news. 'Cause if that other guy moved in, I'd have to fly to Jumbo-Jambalaya every weekend.
Wilson: Well, actually, Tim, there are no direct flights there. When I first met Kathryn, you had to take a mule from Latacunga.

Jill: Are you calling moose, Wilson?
Wilson: No, Jill, this is a conch shell. They blow it in Hawaii to celebrate Thanksgiving.
Jill: Wow. Well, I have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. High on my list would be you deciding to stay.
Wilson: Thank you. Actually, it was Tim's advice that helped solve my problem.
Jill: Wow. So that score would be Tim - one, Wilson - 10,000.
Wilson: [chuckles] I never keep score.

Tim: When's the last time you southpaws picked up right-handed scissors, going: "I can't cut it. My arm's cramping"?
Al: Or sheared a sheep with right-handed sheep shears?
Tim: Well, speaking for me only, last time I sheared a sheep was shome time ago. [laughs] See? When I use my left-handed scissors, with the blade on top, I can now cut with all the confidence of a right-hander. [cuts paper] Snip, snip. [pulls the paper apart to reveal a banner reading "Tool Time"]
Tim: And here we have left-handed pruning shears.
Al: If you go with these, your pruning will move a lot faster.
Tim: If you go with prunes, you'll move a lot faster.

Mark: Hi, Mom.
Jill: Oh, good. You're finally getting rid of some of that junk from your room.
Mark: This is the centerpiece I made at school for Thanksgiving.
Jill: And gosh, it's beautiful.
Mark: Thanks, Mom.

Randy: Dad, do we have to do this with you?
Tim: Yes. Hands-on rat removal turns boys into men.
Brad: You said the same thing about us cleaning out the garbage disposal.
Tim: Oh, boy. Oh, boy. We have struck rat. [as James Cagney] You dirty rat. [pulls out a glove] Oh, that's where that glove went.
Brad: Dad, I hate to tell you this, but that's not a rat.
Randy: Yeah. A dead rat looks like this.

Jill: Whoa! It stinks even worse than before.
Tim: 'Cause I knocked some holes in the wall.
Jill: Well, did you find a dead rat?
Tim: No, but I'm hot on his tail. [Jill coughs] But I'll take care of the smell. I got this industrial disinfectant with the zesty scent of lemon.
Jill: This lemon stuff is worse than the rat.
Tim: You'll get used to it.

Jill: Hi, can I help you?
Appraiser: Hi, I'm the home appraiser from the Royal Oak Bank. [sniffs] And right now, I'm thinking low.
Jill: No, we have a dead rat in the wall. I think you have the wrong house.
Appraiser: 508 Glenview Road?
Jill: No, this is 510. 508 is... Wilson's house, next-door.
Appraiser: Oh, I'm sorry to bother you.

Randy: Why did we have to get all dressed up?
Tim: 'Cause our parents made us, we're making you, that's why.
Jill: Now, Tim, let me find out why Wilson is having his house appraised. It may be a sensitive subject and you don't know how to be subtle.
Tim: My middle name is Subtle.
Jill: Yeah. And your first name is Not.

Jill: I brought you a pumpkin pie for dessert.
Wilson: Why thank you, Jill. Mm, that smells lemony. Come on in.
Jill: Um, want me to take this to the kitchen?
Wilson: Sure.
Jill: And guys, don't touch anything.
Brad: Don't tell us. Tell Dad. Last time we were over here, he was the one that accidentally shot off the cannon.

Randy: Hey, Wilson. I never noticed this mask.
Brad: Yeah, me neither. I never pictured you much as a hockey goalie.
Wilson: Well, actually, Brad, that's from a tribe in Uganda. It's a ceremonial mask that was used when a young man was circumcised.
Tim: He wore the mask so you couldn't see him...