Tim: I'm actually pretty good at changing a tire myself.
Derrick Walker: You want to try it on our Indy car, Tim?
Tim: I don't wanna show up the guys here.
Al: I'm sure they're quaking in their boots.
Robby Gordon: Yeah, Tim. Give it a try.
Tim: All right, Al, you'll time me?
Al: Do I use a stopwatch or a calendar?

Brad: Hey, Mom. There's this awesome party at Courtney's house on Saturday night. Can we go?
Jill: Are Courtney's awesome parents gonna be there?
Brad: Parents?
Jill: Yeah. Those tall, responsible people.
Randy: Well, her parents won't be home, but Courtney's 15-year-old brother will, and he's, you know, he's tall.
Brad: And he's also very responsible. He shows up to detention on time every single day.
Jill: Sorry, guys. No parents, no party.
Brad & Randy: Aw, man.

Wilson: So where are the Taylor lads?
Jill: Well, Mark is upstairs, and Brad and Randy are moping because they're missing the unsupervised party of the year.
Tim: And I'm moping 'cause I gotta go to a play called Waiting For Godot.
Wilson: Well, Tim, Waiting For Godot is a wonderful absurdist drama... about two men awaiting their spiritual awakening by the side of the road.
Tim: By the road. Do they see any cool cars go by?
Wilson: I'm afraid not, Tim. Even Godot doesn't show up. Oh, I'm sorry! I hope I didn't spoil the evening for you.
Tim: Jill already did that by buying the tickets.

Tim: Tickets? Tickets, I got $60 tickets. Great seats. I got some great seats here. $60 tickets.
Man: Oh, great. These are only $40 tickets.
Tim: But I paid $60. You don't want me to lose the money, do you?
Man: What do I care?

Tim: I got a ticket here! I'm going to a play where no one shows up! Ha.

Woman: Would you please be quiet?
Jill: Oh, please yourself. At least your husband showed up. Mine went to a hockey game.
Man: How come her husband got to go to the hockey game?
Woman: See what you started? Now, I've just missed part of the play.
Jill: Come on. There's only five people in the world who understand this play. I doubt that you're one of them.
Actor: [o.s.] Excuse me, we're trying to do a play here!
Ilene: Sorry, Pozzo.

Al: Well, what are we gonna do? I can't spend the night in this sardine can!
Tim: Just relax, will you? I'll call again later. Someone's bound to pick up over there.
Al: I can't do this. Where are you supposed to go to the bathroom? [Tim points to a toilet] Oh, my God. That's the bathroom? Where are the doors?
Tim: They're invisible. Just like the Jacuzzi and the decorative soaps.
Al: Oh, man. We have to come up with the bail money now.
Tim: Well, um... Talent show.
Al: Huh?
Tim: Yeah. Charge admission. You do your famous Pozzo for these guys. It was such a hit with the cop in the parking lot.
Al: Now, don't you start criticizing my Pozzo. You know, the reviewer for the high school paper said I made him tingle.

Tim: So, why are you in here?
George: Well, I gave somebody a tattoo.
Al: That doesn't sound so bad.
George: Well, he didn't want one.
Al: Ah.
Tim: I'll just let you two get acquainted.
Al: Uh, Tim... [Al and George playfully fist-fight] Boy, you know, I really love that... What is that called, a babushka?

Tim: For Pete's sake, Al, will you sit down?
Al: I can't. This place is filthy.
Tim: It's a jail, not the Hilton!
Al: Well, they could clean it once in a while.
Tim: You're so right. Somebody's probably forgot to hang out the "Please Make Up The Cell" card.

Ilene: Al, are you all right?
Al: Ilene, it's been horrible. A nightmare.
Tim: It's been 45 minutes.