Jay: [aside to camera] Every winter, I take a bird-watching trip with my buddies specifically to see a bald eagle. So far, no luck. This year, my buddies bailed: back spasm, cracked hip. And I'm the idiot for installing a shower chair. I was all set to go solo, when those three tagalongs invited themselves. They invaded my territory like a bunch of bay-breasted warblers.

Gloria: [to Claire] Way to rock it, girlfriend!
[aside to camera:]
Gloria: I cannot deny it anymore. I am turning into a white woman.

Phil: Pair of 7s.
Jay: Ace high.
Cameron: Everyone, I'd like you to meet Don Lemon and RuPaul, a pair of black queens.

Cameron: [aside to camera] Darned if I didn't feel like a bay-breasted warbler horning in on Jay's trip, but Gloria made us go.
Mitchell: She was worried about my dad being out in the woods alone at his age, so she... she gently nudged us to join him.

Cameron: We can't let him stay by himself. We told Gloria we'd keep him safe.
Phil: Yeah, if he's staying, we're staying.
Mitchell: Yeah. Yeah. What... What's the worst that could happen? I mean, in the movies, when city folk stay overnight in abandoned cabins, things usually pan out okay. Anyway, I'm gonna run ahead, see if they have any postcards up at this poorly guarded mental institution.

Claire: Carl, do you have a pizza slicer?
Carl: Only the commemorative one I got for years of service.
Claire: Give it to me. I have a vision.
[aside to camera:]
Claire: Shaq and Hendrix never got past their blind spots. Maybe they didn't want it enough. Turning pizzas into was a simple matter of removing one slice from each pie, then trimming off a V-shaped portion of pizza from each of the remaining slices, turning them from 36-degree angles to 40-degree angles, then putting together the 40-degree angles into nine slightly smaller pies. After that, one had only to repurpose the nine previously removed slices into a 10th pie.

Phil: Lot of colors in that fire, huh? Red, green, yellow, blue...
Mitchell: Geez. Okay.
Jay: What is this yammering with you?! Seriously!
Phil: I don't know. I guess I just don't like being alone with my own thoughts. Maybe it's because I have a couple of grandkids on the way, but now, if things get too quiet, my mind goes to a dark place fast. I start to worry about the people that I love and all the bad things that could happen to them. I suppose talking pushes those thoughts out and helps me feel okay.
Jay: I get it. We can all spiral. But you can't talk your way out of it. You got to think your way out of it. You know, find a happy place. Try this. 30 seconds, no talking. Go.

Park Ranger: Okay, folks, you might want to put on some sunscreen. Up this high, the trees start to thin out.
Cameron: Oh, this might be a good place for a picture. Oh, let me go behind that rock. I'll change into my next look.
Jay: Another one?
Mitchell: He has to. His Instagram follower demands it.

Phil: Eagle! Oh, wait, false alarm. It's just a plastic bag in a tree. Eagle! Nope. Sorry. Bag fell.

Cameron: You know what? I think in about 10 minutes, the light's gonna be perfect for my "Afternoon Adventurer" look.
Park Ranger: Okay, uh, before we head deeper into the woods, I should warn you folks that there's been several bear sightings in the area. So if you happen to have any food with you...
Mitchell: Got it! [throws backpack]
Park Ranger: I was going to say you can store it in this bear box here.
Mitchell: Oh. Um, okay. Well, then, talk amongst yourselves. It could take me a while to find where my manly heave sent that heavy... Ah! Here it is. Someone must've heaved it back. Thank you!