Mr. Glascott: Howdy, neighbor.
Beverly: What time is it?
Mr. Glascott: It is 6:31 in the glorious morning. One minute after neighborhoods across the globe officially open for biz.
Beverly: It's barely light outside.
Mr. Glascott: You know, I used to live overlooking a limestone quarry. That giant, watery pit held so many mysteries. And, for some reason, a Safeway shopping cart.
Beverly: The street lights are still on.
Mr. Glascott: I made strudel. Be careful cutting it. My first rent check is baked inside.
Beverly: That's fun, I guess.
Mr. Glascott: Oh, it was an accident. You know what? Let's plate it before the caramel smudges the ink.

Erica: Do you really have to lay there like that, with your butt hovering in the air?
Barry: Well, ever since you overinflated my medical pillow, my options for comfort are limited.
Erica: [sighs] I never thought I would miss looking at your face.
Barry: And there's a new issue. The pain is now an itch. [groans] An itch like no other.
Erica: You heard the doctor. Scratching will prolong the healing, and nobody wants that.
Barry: Just give me a slotted spoon? A balloon whisk? A seafood fork? A grapefruit spoon? A melon baller? One of those little things you hold corn with? Anything!
Erica: Ew! You're a little too familiar with the scratching power of our silverware.

Adult Adam: [v.o.] And it wasn't just early-morning visits. He always found a reason to pop in.
Mr. Glascott: [in sing-song voice] Neighbor favor. Do you mind if I borrow your station wagon? My tuba won't fit into my Datsun. "You play tuba," you asked? Yes, I do. And here's a taste.
Adult Adam: [v.o.] For him, visiting hours were sunrise to sunset.
Mr. Glascott: Here's your evening paper.
Beverly: Oh, we don't get that.
Mr. Glascott: [chuckles] Oh, but I do. Grab a pen, and we can circle the yard sales we want to hit this weekend. [gasps] Ooh, a jigsaw puzzle! You start sorting. I will tackle the borders. [laughs]
Adam: Yeah, it's a kitten eating ice cream. I think I got it.
Mr. Glascott: Okay, then, I'll just sit and cheerlead. Aww, look at you! His paw is holding a spoon.
Adult Adam: [v.o.] I just remembered I hate puzzles.
Mr. Glascott: Okay, well, JG is tapping in. Oh, Adam, you know, it is customary to offer a neighbor a cup of coffee.
Adam: That doesn't sound like anything I've learned in this house.
Mr. Glascott: Black, with two sugars. And also, cream.

Adult Adam: [v.o.] Yep, there was no escaping him. [birds squawking] Even in the middle of the night, his presence was felt.
Beverly: Wow, it's worse in here than in our room.
Adam: It's Mr. Glascott's damn parrot.
Beverly: [sighs] Yeah, John said she was in heat and night vocalizations are normal.
Adam: Normal? I can't sleep because of the sex screams of a 40-year-old bird.
Beverly: I wish there was something I could do.
Adam: Buy me that slingshot I always wanted, and I'll end this right now.
Beverly: Adam!
Adam: Sorry! But the guy's just so up in our business. It's making me think bad thoughts. I'm losing my innocence, Mama.
Beverly: Glascott's just coming on a little strong, but I'm sure he'll settle in.
Adam: I'll settle it right now. Give me a pellet gun and a place to stand. Who am I?!

Beverly: [to Adam] Okay. Just lay down. I'm sure Feather Locklear will calm down as soon as John puts her shows on. Good night, Schmoopie.
Mr. Glascott: [o.s.] Aww, so adorable.
Adam: He can see me?
Mr. Glascott: [o.s.] It's the perfect angle from my thinking window. Howdy, neighbor!

Adult Adam: [v.o.] It was October 20th, 1980-something... Geoff and Erica were called to get Barry from urgent care. He was having... Well, a delicate issue.
Geoff: Barry, are you okay?
Erica: If this is another lollipop scam, enough is enough. They sell them by the bagful.
Barry: I don't fake injuries for lollies. I do it for the thrill of the con. But this time, it's real. Very real.
Dr. Reese: Your friend has a severe case of...
Barry: Don't!
Dr. Reese: They can't take care of you if they don't know what it is.
Barry: Fine! I'll explain. I have what's known as... Mega testosterone.
Dr. Reese: He has poison ivy in and around his anus.
Barry: Hey, that's my story to tell!
Erica: Yes! God, this is gonna be good!

Barry: It's a harrowing tale of adventure and survival.
Erica: You pooped in the woods behind the Wawa and wiped with a poisonous leaf, didn't you?
Barry: Reggie wouldn't let me use the one in the store without a $5 minimum purchase! I only had $4.27!
Erica: Why didn't you at least buy toilet paper?
Barry: The indignities are stacking up.
Geoff: Sorry about your skin irritation, Bar. It could have happened to anyone.
Erica: It really couldn't.

Bill Lewis: I sometimes give Dolores pet names after prime meats. Petit Filet, Ribeye'd Lady, Jenkintown Strip. She hates all of 'em.

Erica: Here's baby's baba.
Barry: [slurps] Gross. It tastes like medicine.
Geoff: I'm gonna make you a new one, champ.
Barry: Erica, I'm hungry, and I want something delicious. There may be a war raging in the canyon below, but up in this valley, I want to live like a king.
Geoff: I'll get you a banana, Your Majesty.
Barry: Blech! I want hot wings. The hotter, the better. I don't care what the doctor said. My mouth didn't sit in poison ivy.

Geoff: You gave this to Barry to rub on his butt?
Erica: It's his ointment.
Geoff: It's Dippity-do.
Erica: What's the diff? It seemed to work.
Barry: It did not. It is an area that does not need to be styled.