Tim: OK. Kelvin, can you give the audience just an example of some of the ingredients in your super-secret Super Bowl stew?
Kevin Pritchett: The two main ingredients are oysters and Spam.
Tim: Well, I guess the secret is why anybody'd want to taste that combination. [laughs]
Dave Krieg: Sorry, Pritch.
Tim: How many does that serve, Kelvin?
Kevin Pritchett: One.
Tim: So, Chris, why don't you tell us some of the ingredients in your tuna casserole?
Chris Spielman: Well, Tim, I only use the finest white-chunk albacore packed in fresh spring water.
Al: Well, perhaps you complement it with maybe a special type of gourmet cheese?
Chris Spielman: Uh, yes, I do. The cheese in a spray can.

Tim: OK. Dave, how spicy is that bean dip of yours, buddy?
Dave Krieg: It's not too spicy at all.
Tim: It's got a little... [Tim gags and spits out the chips]
Dave Krieg: Uh, sorry, I lied. Think of it as a quarterback sneak.
Tim: Well, joking aside, guys... who's gonna come out on top this Sunday?
Kevin Pritchett: No contest. My stew, by three helpings.
Chris Spielman: No way. Your stew can't handle my tuna.
Dave Krieg: No, my beans'll blow you both out of the water. [they all bicker]
Tim: Well, it's teamwork like this that guarantees the Lions'll never be in the Super Bowl. We'll be right back after these words from Binford Tools.

Tim: I'm just hooking up my surround sound speakers for my Super Bowl party.
Brad: We're gonna go to Jeremy's and watch it on his new 70-inch big screen.
Tim: Big deal. You're missing some great food. Larry's bringing a three-cheese pizza, Harry's bringing big sausages, and Pete's bringing nachos with extra cream cheese. [grunts]
Randy: Who's bringing the cardiologist?

Tim: Honey?
Jill: [thermometer in mouth] Tim, I think I'm dying.
Tim: [mimics Jill] Jill, I can't understand a thing you said.
Jill: Oh, my God, it's 103.
Tim: Ooh.
Jill: Just threw up last night's lasagna. Boy, it tasted bad coming up.
Tim: Didn't taste all that good going down.
Jill: Thanks a lot.

Tim: We gotta keep it down, guys.
Benny: Good idea. Save our tooting for the game.
Tim: Well, I was thinking, maybe this time we keep our tooting to ourselves.
Al: What are you talking about?
Tim: Well, maybe when there's a big play, we all act like mimes.
Larry: What?
Al: You know, I love mimes. Especially when they get caught in that box.
Tim: Al, stay in the box, will you?
Jill: [over intercom] Tim? I think I'm gonna throw up.
Al: Is Jill sick?
Tim: No, she just doesn't like mimes.

Al: I feel very uncomfortable about having a party while Jill's upstairs sick with the stomach flu.
Harry: Yeah, I'm sick about it myself. Toss me another sausage, will you?
Al: Oh, come on, with your heart condition, wouldn't you rather have some of my raw vegetable medley? It's very good with this nonfat dip. Go on.
Harry: Yeah, that's all I want - a little dip from a big dip!
Al: Now, come on. Larry, would you talk some sense into him? You're a doctor.
Larry: I'm a neurosurgeon. As long as he doesn't put the sausage on his head, I don't care.

Tim: What are you watching? Oh, it's Doctor Winnebago, isn't it?
Jill: It's "Zhivago."

Jill: Oh, that's good. You have such great hands.
Larry: [o.s.] Oh, no!
Benny: [o.s.] He coughed it up!
[Jill falls back on the bed after Tim runs away while giving her a backrub]
Jill: Tim! Where are you going?
Tim: Somebody coughed something up downstairs.
Jill: Tim! Tim...
Tim: It could be Harry. He might be having another heart attack.
All: [o.s.] All right! Hey.
Al: [o.s.] He recovered.
Tim: It's OK. Thank God, Harry's all right. Talk to you later.

Jill: [over intercom] Tim? Tim, can you bring me some more tissues?
Tim: Why can't she blow her nose on the top sheet like everybody else does?

Pete: Uh, Jill, sorry to inconvenience you. We're at a critical juncture in the game. Could we just use your remote?
Al: Come on, you guys, listen. Jill, we're... Would you...? Wait a minute. This is where Omar Sharif proposes.