Benny: What's the look?
Tim: Oh, come on. It's just the most potent weapon in a woman's arsenal. Her face will transform right in front of you. Her lips get really tight like this.
Marty: Yeah. And then her whole face shrivels up. It's like...
Harry: Yeah. And then her eyes get real small and meet right in the middle of her head like a Cyclops in a housecoat.
Tim: Just when you think you can't take anymore, she lines you up and finishes you off.
Benny: Ohh! I'm never getting married. And not just because women can't stand me.

Harry: Well, look, he's taking me to the game first because I'm his hardware guy.
Marty: No, no, no. If anyone deserves to go, it's me. I'm his brother.
Al: Excuse me. I'm the one that risks his life every day working next to him.
Marty: Uh, the man's got a point.
Al: All right, OK.

Tim: Well, you got it made. Unattached guy like you... You don't need permission to go to 40 Pistons games.
Wilson: Uh-oh. I take it Jill was not too thrilled with your recent purchase.
Tim: That's putting it mildly. First, she gave me the look.
Wilson: The look!
Tim: You know about the look?
Wilson: Oh, Tim, every man knows about the look. Wives have been giving their husbands the look for untold centuries. As a matter of fact, the look was the reason brides started wearing veils. It was long believed that the penetrating stare of a bride could weaken her husband and render him impotent.
Tim: I thought that was caused by all the brown liquor at the reception.
Wilson: Well, that could do it too, Tim.