Episode begins in the living room. Tim is dozing
on the couch. The boys creep over to him. |
| |
Brad: | [Whispering] Yes, he's asleep! |
Mark: | [Whispering] Are you sure we should do this? |
Randy: | [Whispering] After what he did to us last
night in that pillow fight? [Randy is carrying a can of whipped cream in one
hand and a feather in the other] |
Brad: | [Whispering] It's payback time! |
Randy: | [Whispering] O.K., Mark, you do the shoes;
we'll take care of the rest. |
[Brad unzips Tim's pants. Mark ties his shoelaces together.
Randy fills Tim's left hand with whipped cream] |
Randy: | Everybody, stand back! [The boys move out
the way. Randy puts the whipped cream can down on the table. Randy tickles Tim's
nose with the feather. Tim scratches at his nose with his right hand and
groans. Randy tickles his nose again, and Tim scratches with his left hand,
covering his face with the cream. Tim wakes up. He sits up and looks around.
The boys laugh at him] |
Tim: | You little monkeys! [Tim stands up and tries
to chase him. His pants fall down] |
[The boys taunt Tim] |
Brad: | Binford! Binford! Binford! |
Tim: | You watch that tabasco sauce - I'm coming
after you kids. [The boys leave and Jill enters through the front
door] |
Jill: | [Seeing Tim in his underwear] Oh honey, not now.
Can't we wait till after dinner? |
Tim: | Those little genius boys did this. Get me a
towel or something. Help me out. [Tim bends down to pull up his
pants] |
Jill: | No, wait, wait, wait. You're just going to
make a big mess. [Jill reaches into a drawer] Let me help you out with
that. |
Tim: | C'mon! |
Jill: | O.K., just a minute. [Jill takes a camera out
of the drawer] Say cheese! [Jill takes a photo of Tim] |
| |
[Opening credits] |
| |
Cut to the kitchen. |
[Tim and the boys are having breakfast. Jill comes
downstairs] |
| |
Jill: | Good morning. |
Tim: | Morning, hon. |
Brad: | Morning. |
Mark: | [Mark reads from a riddle book] What is
green, has eight legs and liver spots? |
Tim: | I don't know, but I, I think I married
her! |
Jill: | With all eight legs kicking and screaming!
So, Tim. Do you know what special event we have coming up next week? |
Tim: | You don't even have to ask me. I know what it
is. |
Jill: | You're bluffing. What is it? |
Tim: | Our anniversary. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. |
Jill: | O.K., Mr Big-shot. What day of the week is
it? |
Tim: | What day of the week is it! That's easy. What day of the week is it? [Leaning over to Randy] What
day? |
Randy: | Friday. |
Tim: | Friday. Friday! |
Jill: | Saturday, Saturday! |
Tim: | [Trying to slap Randy] Saturday... |
Jill: | We will of course be exchanging
gifts. |
Tim: | And you're the hardest person of all to buy
for. |
Jill: | Yes, I know, I know, but this year I have made it easy for you. Crowley's is holding this beautiful gold
hand-knit sweater for me. All you have to do is go down there
and pick it up, and your anniversary nightmare is over. |
Tim: | You just waltz in here and deny me the pleasure of shopping for
you? |
Jill: | That's right. |
Tim: | [Giving high five to Randy and Brad] Yeah, yeah, alright. Whoa, don't you want to know what I
want? |
Jill: | I've already got your present and I know you'll love
it. |
Tim: | I hope it's as good as the sweater I bought for you. I shopped for hours for that thing, you
know.[Jill goes upstairs] |
Randy: | Want us to tell you what Mom got
you? |
Tim: | No, I don't want you to tell me what mom got me. The surprise is half the fun. Haha. I want to know and I want to know right
now. |
Randy: | Oh, you know, I don't want to ruin the
surprise. |
Tim: | Mark, two bucks? |
Mark: | Broom closet, top shelf. |
Tim: | Alright. |
Randy: | Hey, I didn't know there were going to be
bribes involved. |
Tim: | Where have you been living the last ten
years? [Randy and Mark go upstairs] Oh, whoa. This is like a Momo steering wheel off some kind of sports
car. |
Brad: | Yeah, Mario Andrietti's race car. |
Tim: | Get out of here. [Grunts] Hoh-hoh-hoh. Are you kidding me? This is great. How did she get
this? |
Brad: | Well, she wrote him a letter after he was on your
show. |
Tim: | Oh, man. This thing is really cool. I gotta get her something great. Something that she really wants. Ballroom dancing
lessons. |
Brad: | Dad, be serious. You don't know how to dance.
[Tim starts disco dancing. Brad raises his eyebrows] |
Jill: | [Jill comes downstairs] Brad, the bus is going to be here any minute. You still have to make your
bed... |
Tim: | Hussle up, hussle, hussle... |
Jill: | ...brush your teeth. Tim, you know Crowley's is only going to hold that sweater for three days. If you're going to get it you gotta go
fast. |
Tim: | Forget about the sweater. I've got the perfect gift for
you. |
Jill: | If you think filling my car with anti-freeze is going to work as my present
again this year, you can forget it. |
Tim: | Let's put it this way. When you find out what I'm going to give you,
you're want to cover me with chocolate syrup and show your appreciation in weird and unusual
ways. |
Jill: | Chocolate syrup. Gotta admit you've piqued my
interest. |
Tim: | What do you say to me after we finish dinner every
anniversary? |
Jill: | "Tim, you have mashed potatoes on your
tie." |
Tim: | Jill, you always say: "we should go dancing". This year - we go
dance. |
Jill: | Are you serious? |
Tim: | Yeah. |
Jill: | Oh, that's wonderful. |
Tim: | Dining and dancing at The Excalibur. |
Jill: | The Excalibur! Yooo, that's whoa. That's
fantastic. |
Tim: | And in order to prepare ourselves for a
night of ecstacy... |
Jill: | Yes? |
Tim: | ...I say we take ballroom dancing
lessons. |
Jill: | [Laughing] Ballroom dancing lessons. Oh, honey. I just have two words for
you. |
Tim: | Yeah. |
Jill: | Hot fudge. |
Tim: | Oh, [Grunts] hoh-hoh-hoh-hoh-hoh.. |
| |
Cut to the dance studio. |
[A number of couples, including Tim and Jill, are dancing, with the teacher "Mrs
Keeney" moving between them] |
"Mrs Keeney": | There you go, cha-cha-cha. Move those
hips, cha-cha-cha. Very good, Mr Green. Very nice, Mrs T. |
Jill: | Thank you. |
Tim: | This is really embarrassing. |
Jill: | Well, you weren't embarrassed in the
seventies when you had to do disco. |
Tim: | Well, I had white boots, y'know. [Tim starts
disco dancing. Cha-cha cha-cha-cha. |
Jill: | Yes, that was embarrassing. |
Tim: | This cha-cha's so dated. |
Jill: | Oh, yeah, like disco is here to
stay. |
Tim: | Could be. |
"Mrs Keeney": | O.K. class, that was just wonderful.
Mrs Taylor, really, you're a natural. Such style and grace. |
Jill: | Oh, thank you. |
Tim: | How about me? |
"Mrs Keeney": | Well, Mr Taylor, er, you're
one-of-a-kind! |
Tim: | Thanks a lot. [To Jill] What does she mean by
that? |
Jill: | She meant you're a geek and disco is
dead. |
"Mrs Keeney": | Alright everybody, let's take a
break. But rememeber: to live is to dance, and to dance is to be
free. |
Tim: | Free? Does that mean you're not charging us
twenty bucks for the lesson? [Jill slaps Tim] |
"Mrs Keeney": | Oh, Mr Taylor, don't think of it as
money, think of it as an investment in sophistication. And that's an investment
you could use! |
Jill: | Tim, c'mon. This dance class thing was your
idea. Are you just gonna fool around all the time? |
Tim: | No I'm not gonna fool around. I'm gonna get
this and learn to cha-cha. [Tim and Jill sit down] I can't fool around with all
these refined people around here. |
Jill: | O.K. [Andy comes over to them] |
Andy: | Hey, Toolman, I love your show! [Grunts]
Hoh-hoh. |
Tim: | [Grunts] Oh, yeah. |
Andy: | You must be Mrs. [Grunts] Hoh-hoh. |
Jill: | Well, actually, [Grunting] Hoh-hoh is my married name. My maiden name was [Howling] ouu ouu ouu ouuuu. Will you excuse me, I have to go check our babysitter and see if our kids have killed him yet.
[Jill stands up and walks away] |
Andy: | Andy Paxton. |
Tim: | Hey Andy, Tim Taylor. [Tim and Andy shake
hands] Sit down buddy. |
Andy: | Alright. [Andy sits down next to
Tim] |
Tim: | How's your wife roped you into this cha-cha
thing? |
Andy: | Well, it's a trade-off. You see, I do the
cha-cha, she shaves. |
"Mrs Keeney": | Alright everybody. The break's
over. |
Jill: | [Coming into the room] The line was
busy. |
"Mrs Keeney": | Now that you know the basic cha-cha, let's add a little spice. I need a couple to demonstrate. Mrs Taylor. No no, Mr Taylor. Uh, not you, I think we'll just kind of mix things up a little bit. Uh, Mr Green. I think you compliment Mrs Taylor very
nicely. |
Tim: | I bet he knows nothing about belt
sanders. |
"Mrs Keeney": | Alright everybody. ["Mrs. Keeney"
starts some music playing] We're going to add a few turns. Now, Mrs Taylor watch closely.
["Mrs Keeney" starts dancing with Mr Green. Jill dances along] |
Tim: | [Tim and Andy laugh together] I'd like to see the guy try that on a construction
site. |
"Mrs Keeney": | Now this is what I call the Keeney
flair. I sometimes, uh, get carried away. Now, Mrs Taylor you try. |
Jill: | Uh, I didn't get that last part. |
"Mrs Keeney": | Oh, well, try. Here we go. [Jill
and Mr Green dance together] Listen up, Mrs Taylor. Keep your eyes locked on your partner. Foreheads together. This is what I call the love
focus. |
Tim: | I can't believe I payed 20 bucks to have some other guy dance with my
wife. |
Andy: | Hey, I'd pay him thirty to dance with my wife.
Let him get the razor burns. |
"Mrs Keeney": | Mr Green. More flair, more
panache. [Tim starts mimicking Mr Green] |
Jill: | What are you doing? |
Tim: | Flairing, panache-ing. |
Jill: | Well, stop it. |
"Mrs Keeney": | Uhm, Mr Taylor. Uh, Mr Taylor would you come out here,
please. |
Tim: | Me? |
"Mrs Keeney": | Yes. Uh, you seem to be enjoying
yourself? |
Tim: | Totally, babe. |
"Mrs Keeney": | Why don't we put, uh, why don't we put all of our creative energies to good
use? |
Tim: | Refinish the floor. |
"Mrs Keeney": | No, Let's use our
imagination. |
Tim: | Alright. |
"Mrs Keeney" | We're in New York. |
Tim: | Give me your wallet. |
"Mrs Keeney": | We're in the Star Club, 1957. The band begins to play a
cha-cha and we see each other across the room. Our eyes lock. The band begins to play.
A dance of passion. The mating ritual begins. [Tim and "Mrs Keeney" dance
together] |
Tim: | I've got a wife you know? |
"Mrs Keeney": | In 1957 you have no wife. Now, let yourself go, Mr Taylor. Don't be a prisoner of your
body. |
Tim: | Free me warden, I'm on parole! |
"Mrs Keeney": | Let's show 'em, let's show the class those turns. Oh, with lots of speed, and lots of flair. Oh, spin me, Mr Taylor. Reel me, spin me.
[Tim throws the teacher across the room and she crashes into the
piano] |
Tim: | Call 911. |
| |
[Commercial break] |
| |
Cut to the living room. |
[Al is asleep in the couch. Brad fills his left hand with
whipped cream] |
| |
Randy: | Mark, did you tie his shoelaces
together? |
Mark: | He doesn't have any. [Al is wearing Binford
buckle shoes] |
Randy: | Forget it. [Randy tickles Al's nose with a
feather. Al scratches at his nose with his right hand] Put some in his other hand.
[Brad fills Al's other had with cream. Randy tickles Al again. Al reaches up and smears the
cream over Brad and Mark's faces. He them reaches back and pulls Randy over the couch and smears
cream in his face] |
Al: | [Laughing out loud] Hahaha! Now you thought you can get me,
huh? |
Brad: | I can't believe it. This worked great on
Dad. |
Al: | I know, he told me. [Jill and Tim
return] Quick, quick, run up. Get ready f... get ready for bed. Quick. Wash your faces.
[Al goes over to the kitchen and washes his hands] |
Jill: | Hi Al. How are the kids? |
Al: | Great, great. And how was the first ballroom dancing
class? |
Tim: | It went pretty good. |
Jill: | Oh, pretty good. It was a disaster. He threw the teacher across the
room. |
Al: | You did? |
Tim: | Not. She said: "Spin me, spin me". You think a former June Taylor dancer can take a fall better than
that. |
Jill: | Well, she might have been able to if she hadn't caught her chin on the
piano. |
Al: | Well, I'm still free for tomorrow night for, uh, lesson number
two. |
Jill: | I don't think so, Al. After she regained consciousness Mrs.
Keeney gave our description to the security guard. |
Tim: | She was so woozy she described us as an elderly Japanese
couple. |
Al: | Well, if I leave right now I can still make second session of
Bingo. |
Jill: | Thank you, Al. |
Al: | O.K. |
Tim: | You don't want to miss that. Hurry up, Al,
hurry. |
Al: | Well, see you... see you at work
tomorrow. |
Tim: | See you buddy. There's other dance studios we can go to,
y'know. |
Jill: | Y'know, you always do this. You always ridicule everything that is important to
me. |
Tim: | No I don't. I was just trying to make you gift as special as the steer...uh, steer. The stear. A stear, what a gift that would be. A stear. You can have a stear out there and get beef and milk out the same
animal. |
Jill: | You snooped. |
Tim: | I did not. |
Jill: | You snooped around and found the steering
wheel. |
Tim: | It's not like you hid it very well. You put it in the broom
closet. |
Jill: | When was the last time you used the broom? Thank you for
ruining both gifts. |
Tim: | I love the steering wheel. |
Jill: | What, exactly. Which is why I would have liked to have seeing you open it.
Oh, God. |
Tim: | Well, we can still go dancing Saturday at
Excalibur. |
Jill: | No way I'm gonna to go dancing with a man who
can't even make it through one lesson. |
Tim: | Yeah, but give me, give me credit, the ballroom dancing idea was
good. |
Jill: | Oh, I bet that wasn't even your idea, I bet the kids
thought of it, right? |
Tim: | No! The amount you've been nagging me about...
Nag's the wrong word. Nag is the wrong word.
The wrong word! I can dance, I've got flair, I've got panache, just like Mr. Green.
[Tim kicks his arms and legs out, and kicks over the kitchen trash] |
| |
Cut to the "Tool Time" studio. |
[Tim and Al are in the tool corner, demonstrating Binford
nail guns] |
| |
Tim: | And the Binford power roofing nail gun is my favorite, because the new magazine holds 120 roofing nails. It's enough for a
bushle of shingles. [Tim accidentally fires a nail at the cameraman] |
Al: | Uhm, available at fine hardware stores
everywhere. |
Tim: | Mark, get a claw hammer, get that out of your
thigh. Get some sav on it. |
Al: | Tim. |
Tim: | And if it doesn't say Binford on it, somebody else makes it.
[Al salutes] |
Al: | Erm, well, time now for our next project. [Tim and Al
move over to the main area of the studio] |
Tim: | Alright. Before we get to our next project we have a special guest. Jerry
Holborne's here from the Village Association to give me a certificate of
appreciation. |
Al: | You? |
Tim: | Is there an echo in here? Yes, me. Let's bring Jerry out here,
with a big "Tool Time" welcome. Jerry Holborne everybody. [Jerry comes out. Tim
shakes his hand] |
Jerry: | It's good to see you Tim. Y'know, uh, I've never been on TV
before. |
Tim: | Oh, anybody can do it. |
Al: | You should know. |
Jerry: | Well, Tim. On behalf of the Detroit area home builders association I would like to present you with this beautiful
scroll. |
Tim: | Now, Al's name is on there, right? |
Jerry: | No, it's not. |
Tim: | Uh, huh, it's too bad, huh? Read it with a loud clear voice for
us. |
Jerry: | [Jerry unrolls the scroll] We award this certificate to Tim Taylor for his affords to promote safety at home and on the
job. |
Al: | You're getting an award for
safety? |
Tim: | I am, flannel boy. You got a problem with
that? |
Al: | Well, I guess they didn't see the show where you fell through the roof of the project
house. |
Tim: | Maybe they didn't, Al. |
Al: | Or the time you glued your head to the
table. |
Tim: | Al... |
Al: | Or the time when you stapled it... |
Tim: | Eh - Jerry, continue. |
Jerry: | Your clever staging of realistic looking accidents clearly shows viewers what not to do. We salute you.
[Jerry salutes Tim and Tim grunts] |
| |
Cut to the backyard. |
[Wilson is cutting logs with an axe. Tim comes
over] |
| |
Tim: | Heya, Wilson. |
Wilson: | Hi-ho neighbor. |
Tim: | Got one for you. |
Wilson: | Hm-hm? |
Tim: | How much wood could a Wilson chop if a Wilson
could chop wood? |
Wilson: | He could cut a quarter of a quarter conifer
if you gave him a quarter for every quarter cut. |
Tim: | You're good. |
Wilson: | Ah-hm. By the way. Happy
anniversary. |
Tim: | Uhh, not from Jill's point of view. |
Wilson: | Problem, Tim? |
Tim: | Problem is, I can't dance. |
Wilson: | I won't ask you. |
Tim: | I got Jill kind of angry with me because I was goofing around
at this dance class we took. |
Wilson: | Well, Tim, often times we mock that which we cannot
do. |
Tim: | I can't cha-cha. I started to figure out,
y'know, where to put my hands and my feet and line everything up, and next
thing I know the instructor slides under a piano and her jaw's wired
shut. |
Wilson: | I don't know that step. |
Tim: | She didn't either, hehe. |
Wilson: | Well, Tim, your problem is you're just thinking too much. Let's say, you're a race car
driver. |
Tim: | [Grunts] Ohohooo. |
Wilson: | And your taking your turns at
Indy. |
Tim: | Indiaa-a-aaaa-aaaaaaaaaaa. Pass it on, sir. See ya, buddy. Sucker
gaa-a-aaaaaaaaaaa. |
Wilson: | Tim, you're doing quite well. |
Tim: | Yeah, finish line is right up here.
Checkered flag. |
Wilson: | Don't look in the mirror. |
Tim: | Mirrors? |
Wilson: | Forget about the mini cam. |
Tim: | Mini cam's right back here. |
Wilson: | Don't wave at the... |
Tim: | Uuuhhhhh...! |
Wilson: | Uh-ohh, you hit the wall. |
Tim: | [Making car noises] They're all passing me. I was
so close to it. |
Wilson: | Tim, you were doing fine when you weren't thinking about the mini cam, or the mirrors and such. You were going on instinct. You were one with the car. You were
Zen-like. |
Tim: | I was Zen-like? I never met Zen. What was he
like? |
Wilson: | No no no, Tim. Zen is a state of mind. Like when you dance. You can't worry about what
your hands and your feet are doing, you just have to let the music envelop you.
That's what I do. [Wilson starts dancing] Right, left, cha-cha-cha. Left, right,
cha-cha-cha. Right, left, cha-cha-cha. Left, right, cha-cha-cha. Work with me Tim.
[Tim dances with Wilson, with the fence between them] Right, left, cha-cha-cha. Right, left,
cha-cha-cha... |
Tim: | 1 2 3, cha-cha-cha. I think I got it, I got
it. |
Wilson: | Alright, Tim, we're going to make a turn. Let yourself go. Right, left,
cha-cha-cha. Left, right, cha-cha-cha. |
Tim: | Wilson, I think, I think I got it. |
Cut to the kitchen. |
[Tim is dressed up in a suit. He takes a present out of the
broom cupboard] |
| |
Tim: | Come on Jill, hurry up. Are you still mad? Are you going to dinner with me?
[Jill comes downstairs, dressed up] |
Jill: | Yes, of course I'm going to dinner with you. I'm not
mad. |
Tim: | Eight o'clock reservations. We still have to exchange
gifts. |
Jill: | How about: you look pretty? |
Tim: | Thanks. I've changed my hair. I'm using
that raspberry mousse of yours. Where's my gift? |
Jill: | Close your eyes, shut your mouth. Now I just know, you're going to be so surprised about this.
Da-da! [Jill gives Tim the steering wheel] |
Tim: | Ohh, This's great. This is great. [Jill
opens her present] |
Jill: | Ohh, wow, what a pretty sweater. You have such good
taste. |
Tim: | Happy anniversary. |
Jill: | Happy anniversary. |
Tim: | I love you and I love this, and thanks for thinking about
me. |
Jill: | I love you. [They exchange kisses] |
Jill: | Now, enough of that. O.K. Did you give Al enough money to get the kids popcorn at the
movies? |
Tim: | Yeah. He wanted some extra for milk duds for
himself. |
Jill: | Did you give him the number at Chez
Pierre? |
Tim: | We're not going to Chez Pierre, we're going to
The Excalibur. |
Jill: | Oh, honey, you were supposed to cancel those
reservations. |
Tim: | That's when you didn't like dancing with
me. |
Jill: | Well, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I don't want to dance with
you. |
Tim: | I'd hold that opinion if I were you.
[Tim puts on cha-cha music, he starts to dance] |
Jill: | Haha, what is this? |
[Tim drags the table cloth from the table while the accessories stayed
on] |
Jill: | Wow, what happened? Two days ago, all you could do was
disco. |
Tim: | I met a man named Zen. Now if you think you
can keep up. Please join in. [They dance together] |
Jill: | [Tim picks up the steering wheel and
continues to dance] Should we do the Momo step? |
Tim: | Do the Momo step. |
Jill: | Haha. You like this thing, don't you? I bought it on your cha-cha-charge
account. |
Tim: | Try to picture yourself. 1993. It's the motor city. We lock eyes across a huge hardware
store. |
Jill: | The love focus [They put their heads
together] |
| |
Cut to the kitchen, the next morning. |
[Jill is standing by the counter] |
| |
Jill: | So, honey. You were so amazing last night.
[Jill goes over to Tim at the table] |
Tim & Jill: | On the dance floor ?! |
Jill: | I especially liked this table cloth thing you
did. |
Tim: | That was cool, wasn't it? |
Jill: | Yes, it was so sexy when you... [Jill yanks the cloth off the table
pulling all the bowls with it] How did you do that? |
| |
CREDITS |
| |
[Outtakes from the kitchen] |
| |
Tim: | She really... |
Jill: | Brad! The bus is here! [Brad runs upstairs]
You still have, er, brush your teeth, and um, and um... [Jill laughs] |
Tim: | Ooo, wheels fell off of that one real
quick. |
[Beep. Cut. Outtake from the kitchen] |
| |
Tim: | Once you find out what I bought you, you're
gonna want to fill my head with cannon balls and powder my behind! [Tim and
Jill break up, laughing] |
Jill: | Can you say that again?! Could you, please? |
Stage Manager: | O.K. |
Jill: | Fill my head and powder... |
Tim: | I'm O.K.! |
| |
THE END |