George Foreman: Well, if I'm going to hit that nail, Tim, I've got to get angry with it.
Tim: Huh?
George Foreman: So I'm going to close my eyes and imagine it's Evander Holyfield. You going to hold that nail for me?
Tim: Al, hold that nail.
Al: I don't think so, Tim.
Tim: George, hold your own nail.
George Foreman: I don't think so, Tim.
Tim: Lisa?
Lisa: [o.s.] I don't think so, Tim.

Jill: Honey, I was just making this list, and, you know, I don't think that all this bad luck is just because of that chain letter.
Tim: You don't, do you?
Jill: No, listen to this. In the last month, you have done the following. Backed a pickup truck into a house, almost electrocuted yourself three times, nailed your shoe into the floor, and glued your head to a table.
Tim: What's your point?
Jill: Well, the point is, it's not the chain letter that's bringing you bad luck. It's you. You're a klutz. Isn't that great?
Tim: Honey, I'm thrilled.

Jill: George Foreman?
Tim: Yeah.
Jill: Is he an athlete?
Tim: Yes, Jill.
Jill: I know who he is.
Tim: I know you do.
Jill: He's the quarterback for the Detroit Tigers.
Karen: No, no, no. No, no, that's Arnold Palmer.
Jill: No, no, he's a race car driver.
Tim: Ladies, ladies...
Tim: No, he's... Look...
Karen: Yeah, he won the Super Bowl.
Tim: [grunts] George Foreman happens to be the former heavy weight champion of the world.
Jill: Oh, wow. In what sport?
Tim: [sighs] Boxing. He's a boxer, Jill. Boxing.