Tim: I didn't mean to steamroll you and ruin your fun. The truth is, I have the problem. I'm addicted to cars.
Jill: Well, duh.
Tim: I want to apologize for all the times I've wronged you automotivally.
Jill: That could take years.
Tim: That's why we've got to start, okay? Just listen. All right. Your birthday, 1975. Remember you wanted earrings? I bought you that chrome dipstick. Valentine's Day, 1976. You wanted earrings, I got you a case of transmission fluid. [timelapse] Our wedding, 1979. I insisted on the hot rod theme. Remember the three-barrel Stromberg wedding cake? It was a big hit. Christmas, 1980.
Jill: Tim. How do you remember all these dates?
Tim: It's part of my car sickness. I need help. I'm thinking of checking in to the Henry Ford Clinic.

Tim: These things require constant attention, honey.
Jill: Yeah, I know. I was thinking I could learn about the car, and do some of the work myself.
Tim: [laughing] Ooh, boy. These have a positive ground wiring system that nobody understands. And don't even get me started on side draft carburetors. This... It's a shocker. I don't know what to say.
Jill: How about saying that you're really happy that I got the car I wanted?
Tim: All right. l... l... It's British! These people made a fighter plane out of wood!
Jill: Tim.
Tim: They put kidneys in pies, for God's sake!

Mark: What are you doing? [Tim hits his head on the hood]
Randy: I thought Mom said not to touch her car.
Tim: She'll be glad I did. I'm just checking out the wire, making sure there's no loose connections.
Brad: You're hotwiring Mom's car, aren't you?
Tim: I'm bypassing the ignition.
Randy: What kind of a twisted human being hotwires his wife's car?
Tim: You guys are old enough to know the truth. Your father is a sick, sick man.