Home Improvement, Season 1

Jill:
[about the dishwasher] You will not screw it up like you did the blender. End of discussion.

Tim:
What's wrong with the blender? It's the only blender on the block that can puree a brick.

Jill:
Tim, do you ever listen to me? It was the last thing that I said in bed to you last night.

Tim:
No, I believe, if you recall, the last thing you said to me in bed last night was "no!"

Jill:
You're thinking of tonight.

Tim:
In the shop, tape hangs on a hook, because it has a hole in it.

Jill:
So does your head, it's not hanging on a hook.

Jill:
[to Tim, after finding the missing wrench in the dryer] Do you want this on regular cycle or fluff?

Jill Taylor:
(Finds Tim pretending to ride lawnmower like a motorcycle) So, what? Did you join Hells Gardeners?

Tim:
[after opening a bag of chips and spilling them everywhere] There's a warning label right here. You shouldn't open these in broad daylight, in Detroit. It could cause an explosion!

Tim:
Would It help if I said I was sorry?

Jill:
It might.

Tim:
I'm sorry.

Jill:
It didn't.

Jill:
Tim, what do you actually know about installing a satellite dish?

Tim:
It's simple. Mount it, point it straight up. Any man could do that.

Jill:
Yeah, but it has to stay up longer than ten seconds.

Tim:
However much I'm not jealous, I'm twice as much not insecure.

Wilson:
Well, you should feel secure, Tim. You've got what every man dreams of.

Tim:
A satellite dish!

Wilson:
No, Tim. Three strapping boys, a nice home, and a loving wife.

Jill:
Will you go check the furnace, I think the pilot must be out.

Tim:
Are you saying that lighting a pilot is a man's job?

Jill:
No, I'm saying it's your job.

Mark:
What are we gonna make?

Jill:
I'm gonna have your whole Scout troop make paper-bag masks.

Mark:
Is that all? Billy's mom helped us make a real tepee.

Jill:
She did?

Mark:
Yeah, and she made us beef jerky out of raw meat.

Jill:
Billy's mom is a Stepford wife. You're getting pizza and paper-bag masks.

Jill:
What are we gonna do about the boys' table manners?

Tim:
You should give them a refresher course.

Jill:
Me? What about you?

Tim:
[with his mouth full] Honey, I'm a man. What do I know about manners?

Brad:
Mom!

Jill:
What?

Brad:
Dad's cussing.

Tim:
I'm not cussing.

Mark:
He said a bad word.

Tim:
It wasn't bad!

Randy:
He said 'hell' and 'damn'.

Tim:
I did not say 'damn'.

Randy:
Now you did.

Jill:
I'll be going upstairs now...

Tim:
You want company?

Jill:
No, just you.

Tim:
[because the kids are asleep at the dinner table] Shouldn't we take the boys to bed?

Jill:
Nah, leave them. It'll only take a minute, anyway...

Jill:
[as the boys prepare to go to school] If you miss that bus, you'll be in big trouble!

Tim:
Trouble already? Boys, pace yourselves, you've got all day to be evil. You don't wanna peak too soon.

Jill:
I thought if there was a problem with the car, the light would get brighter, or there would be a buzzer.

Tim:
A buzzer!? It's a car, not a game show!

Jill:
Are you saying the car's not working?

Tim:
We now own a 350-horsepower, 4-door, BOULDER!

Jill:
So I can't drive it?

Tim:
Not unless you're Wilma Flintstone!

Tim:
I'm gonna make some of that four-star, happy trails, rootin'-tootin' chili of mine.

Jill:
I don't know about the rootin', but there'll be plenty of tootin'.

Tim:
You should consider yourself lucky I'm not making my rip-roarin' chili.

Jill:
What are we going to do about Brad and Randy? They keep tormenting Mark.

Tim:
That's why we had Mark, so they'd leave us alone.

Jill:
I thought you said it was a technical problem!

Tim:
Technically, I was the problem.

Tim:
We've talked about this long enough; I'm gonna put another sink in this room.

Jill:
Oh, no no no no you're not.

Tim:
It's not that big a job; it's a small job.

Jill:
There is no such thing as a small job with you, Tim. First you'd start with the sink, and the next thing I'd know you'd be ripping out walls, and running a subway through here.

Tim:
I'd give you free tickets!

[Tim wants to remodel the bathroom, on Tool Time.]

Tim:
Let me do this for you.

Jill:
Will Al be here?

Tim:
I don't see what that has to do with anything.

Jill:
Will Al be here?

Tim:
I want you to understand something. Al is my assistant, he assists me.

Jill:
Yeah, I know. Will he be here?

Tim:
Probably, yes.

Jill:
[getting excited] And I can have anything I want?

Tim:
Anything you want!

Jill:
Oh, what if I decide I just want you, right now?

Tim:
Well, it'll be difficult without Al here to assist me!

[Jill falls apart laughing.]

Jill:
Why do they call it a monkey wrench?

Tim:
They call it a monkey wrench because even a monkey can use it.

Brad:
Dad, am I gonna be able to help you work on this thing?

Tim:
You bet!

Jill:
No, no, Brad, honey, you have to finish your homework.

Brad:
Aww, man...!

Tim:
No "aww man's." Do what she says, then you can help.

Brad:
[dejected] Alright...

Tim:
Hey Randy, did you do your homework?

Randy:
Yeah.

Tim:
Want to help?

Randy:
No.

Tim:
Where did I go wrong with him?

Jill:
Don't worry about it, he's not yours.

Tim:
We are enlightened men, and enlightened men share the household responsibilities, right?

Mark:
What's 'enlightened'?

Randy:
It means 'scared of Mom'.

Tim:
[about the vacuum] On the outside, it maintains that feminine allure. On the inside, I've doubled its chromosome count.

Brad:
I don't have a woman.

Mark:
I have a woman, Mommy.

Randy:
Your Mom can't be your woman, doofus!

Tim:
Lots of guys pay psychiatrists a lot of money to figure that one out.

Tim:
The first time I did Tool Time, I was really nervous. So I imagine the audience was just one guy.

Jill:
The first time you did Tool Time, there was only one guy.

Tim:
Yeah, but I pictured him in his underwear.

Jill:
He WAS in his underwear!

Tim:
He was NOT!

Jill:
(indicating Randy's flashy robes) This is Randy's costume, he's playing the innkeeper.

Tim:
And where are Mary and Joseph staying this year, Caesar's Palace!?

Jill:
Randy's no longer playing the innkeeper, because he added some lines.

Brad:
Yeah. He doubled the price of the room and asked the wise men for ID!

Randy:
They made me a sheep.

Mark:
So Santa is alive?

Jill:
Sure, you sat on his lap at the mall.

Mark:
But there are a lot of malls. How could Santa be at every one?

Tim:
He's really fast for a fat guy!

Tim:
You can't help that you're a lousy bowler. You're a woman.

Jill:
Boy, nothing gets by you, Tim.

Jill:
We're keeping score.

Tim:
I thought you didn't want to keep score.

Jill:
Oh, is the great big bad bowling man afraid his itty-bitty wife is going to beat him?

Tim:
Is the itty-bitty wife afraid the big bad bowling man is going to leave her in the PARKING LOT?

Tim:
Today, we hung a storm door on an existing wood frame. Now, the important thing about putting a door in is hanging it, 'cause if it's not hung well, you got a problem. Right, Al?

Al:
Speak for yourself, Tim.

Tim:
What are you doing?

Wilson:
Oh, just pounding myself some horseshoes.

Tim:
Wouldn't a pair of loafers be more comfortable?

Tim:
Pure power. You could saw through the refrigerator with this thing!

Jill:
Wouldn't it be easier to open the door?

Jill:
[Tim has come home with a piece of table glued to his head] Wha-What is this thing on your head?

Tim:
It's a little piece of table.

Randy:
What happened?

Tim:
Old Mr. Negativity, Al, distracted me and got my head cemented to this table. It took me a saber saw to get me off of this table.

Jill:
Shouldn't you go to the emergency room?

Tim:
I was just there. They said I wasn't a priority.

Jill:
Why? Was there a guy with a whole table stuck to his head? [Jill and Karen laugh]

Tim:
You notice, I'm not laughing.

Jill:
(trying to regain composure) It's ok, we'll be good. Randy, s-s-set the table.

Randy:
OK. Dad, bend over!

Tim:
[with a piece of table stuck to his head] I was trying to make a point on the show that men don't just destroy things with hammers and nails and tools.

Karen:
No, they also glue.

Karen:
Do you move to New York or Seattle?

Tim:
I think a lot depends on where you'll be living.

Jill:
If I have to tell you what to get, I might as well just go out and buy it myself.

Tim:
Now you're talking.

Tim:
Mark and I were talking in the garage, do you guys know anything about a "little brother tax"?

Brad & Randy:
No.

Tim:
Maybe I should tell you about something called a "large angry father tax."

Jill:
[to Randy] Randall William Taylor, get out here now! I want to talk to you!

Tim:
Wow, the middle name. He's in trouble!

Jill:
[about Bob Vila] Are you afraid that big bad Bob is going to make you look foolish?

Tim:
Better men than him have made me look foolish. [pause] That didn't sound right, did it?

Tim:
Are you insinuating this is my fault?

Jill:
I'm not insinuating. I'm saying it. It's your fault.

Tim:
[after putting out a fire] Who would have guessed that chrome cleaner could be so flammable?

Al:
I suppose whoever put the warning on the label, Tim.

Al:
I'm just saying that if you send that chain letter, you'll have better luck.

Tim:
Al, listen. Having George Foreman on the show, that is good luck. Winning a shovel, that's not good luck. You do not have good luck.

Lisa:
Al, Al, I almost forgot. The heat's broken in my apartment. Can I stay at your place tonight?

Jill:
In the past month, you have done the following things -- backed a pickup truck into a house, almost electrocuted yourself three times, nailed your shoe to the floor, and glued your head to a table.

Tim:
What's your point?

Jill:
My point is it's not the chain letter that's causing the bad luck, it's you. You're a klutz, isn't that great?

Tim:
Honey, I'm thrilled.

Eddie:
[after his wife died] I was married to Tildy for 45 years, and the woman drove me absolutely crazy. She had these ugly little porcelain cats that she loved to line up on a window sill. Every day for 45 years, I used to take those cats off the window sill and put them in a cupboard. And every day for 45 years, she'd take the cats out of the cupboard and put them back on the window sill.

Tim:
Where are they now?

Eddie:
On a window sill.

Tim:
You didn't throw them out?

Eddie:
What for? [pause] You don't have to understand a woman. All you have to do is love her.

Jill:
Do you think that Tim is a good listener?

Wilson:
Yes! I think Tim is a very good listener.

Jill:
But does he understand everything you say?

Wilson:
I think Tim is a very good listener.

Tim:
What are you up to?

Wilson:
Just painting a self-portrait.

Tim:
Yeah? Of who?

Tim:
I'm your prisoner. Do what you will to me, over and over and over.

Jill:
Let's face it, Tim, with you, when it's over, it's over.

Robin:
At least Tim helps you out around the house.

Jill:
Well, of course he does. I trained him. If it weren't for me, he'd still be in the backyard eating out of a trough.

[Jill wants to join the poker game]

Tim:
Sorry, Jill, but to join this game, you need to be able to bench-press 150 pounds. [Al starts to get up] Al, sit down!

Tim:
You know, Charlie, she's gonna keep interrupting the game if you don't apologize.

Fred:
Hey, never apologize. It's admitting you're wrong. I have never once apologized to any woman.

Tim:
Freddie, how many times you been married?

Fred:
Three.

Tim:
Why do you suppose that is?

Fred:
I can't find a woman who understands me.

Tim:
And you'll notice Daddy-O here has a 20-gallon steel cylinder filled with propane. I've increased the outlet valve of this twice over. Which means we'll be cooking with what?

Randy:
The Fire Department?

Tim:
I was a whiz in math when I was in school. Do you suppose they call those square roots because they're just not that cool?

Tim:
We have a very special show for you today.

Al:
Does that mean you're not going to break anything, Tim?

Tim:
Maybe just your contract, buddy.

Tim:
Man's speakers, that's what I'm after. Speakers with attitude. Speakers that haven't shaved in a couple of days.