Murray: Did anyone call while I was out?
Erica: Yeah. I wrote it down on the pad.
Murray: Flurt Burtman? Who the hell's Flurt Burtman?
Erica: I don't know. He was talking all fast, 'cause it was important. Anyway, call him back.
Murray: Call who back?! If it's important, I need to know the actual name.
Erica: I don't know. I'm not invested, because it wasn't for me.
Murray: What the hell's this message? "PP"?
Erica: Oh, Barry wrote that. My guess is he either drank too much Mr. Pibb or Pop-Pop called?
Murray: Wait. My dad called? He never uses the phone. He always thinks the Cubans are listening.
Erica: Oh, he calls all the time. He just says, "Tell the moron I'll call him back." Oh, so this is me giving you those dozens of messages.

Mr. Glascott: Figuring out where to sit, eh?
Adam: Yeah.
Mr. Glascott: Ah, that's a sad dance that I know all too well. But lucky for you, I'm a guidance counselor, and I can guide you to lunchroom success.
Adam: Um, maybe I could sit with the preppies?
Mr. Glascott: Come on, man. You want to walk around in boat shoes with no socks? You want to invite that kind of fungus in your life?

Adam: That's right. This woman cheesed the drive, not us. Her!
Mr. Glascott: Whoa! That's a harsh accusation against a faculty member who's here one day a week.
Adam: It's true. She cheesed it. It's her signature culinary move.

Adam: Okay. How about the band geeks?
Mr. Glascott: Do you even play an instrument? No, you don't. So what makes you think they're gonna just welcome you into their unique and beautiful fold?
Adam: Uh, maybe the Goth kids?
Mr. Glascott: The Goths? They would eat you alive. Seriously, I heard they eat cats and stuff.

Adam: No offense to myself, but I think you got the wrong guy.
Brian Corbett: No way! We all think it's awesome that you're super into movies, robots, He-Man.
Adam: Oh, so you're also a He-head? That's the name I've given to die-hard He-Man fans.
JC Spink: That's cool. It's also cool that, like, the top of your head smells so good.
Adam: Odd observation from that distance, but I do condition every day.
JC Spink: It shows, bro.
Brian Corbett: Nice. Such luster.
Adam: Ah, balls! She got to you!
Brian Corbett: No, man. We- We like you for you.
Adam: God, my own mom has to find me a table? That's where my life is?
Ruben Amaro, Jr.: She gave us free waffle fries. You get it.
Brian Corbett: She also yelled at us and said that in time, we'd come to love you.

Beverly: I get boundaries, Adam. You don't want me to intervene or talk to you while you're at school.
Adam: Good.
Beverly: Until I see you struggle, and then I come in strong and hard.
Adam: Nope. Lost it.
Beverly: Okay, okay. We'll limit our interactions to hallway snuggies-
Adam: Mom!
Beverly: and brief Eskimo kisses.
Adam: Mom.
Beverly: Grr. Fine. I'll leave your little kitten nose alone.
Adam: Thank you.
Beverly: But at home, all bets are off.

Erica: I'm doing the outgoing message.
Barry: No way! I've been planning for this my whole life. [As Mr. T] I don't want no jibber-jabber, foo'! Wait for the beep! Stay in school, and leave a message. This is Mr. T, by the way.

Adam: I'm Adam, by the way.
Mike Levy: I'm Mike Levy. This is also Mike Levy.
Adam: You guys have the same name?
Mike Levy: Yeah, but Mike Z. is painfully shy, so it's not much of an issue.
Adam: I feel your pain. There's a senior also named Adam Goldberg. He's not happy to have me around.

Beverly: Why did you let them go?
Mr. Glascott: They called my schmoo a nerd. That's not on them. That's more on your schmoo for being one.
Beverly: Hey, only I get to call my schmoo a schmoo.
Mr. Glascott: The point is, Adam and his gang of computer dorks don't even eat in the lunchroom. That means they're not even on the social ladder. You've got to do something about this. If you don't help Adam, then you have failed as a mother.
Beverly: But that is my greatest nightmare.

Pop-Pop: Hey, Bar, tell Murray to flag down the soft pretzel guy.
Barry: Erica, tell Pops to tell Dad Pop-Pop wants a pretzel.
Erica: Um, Pops, tell Dad that Pop-Pop would appreciate it if he bought him a pretzel.
Pops: Murray, buy your dad a pretzel.
Murray: Tell him to buy his own damn pretzel!
Pops: No go, Erica.
Erica: Barry, Dad kindly declines the pretzel purchasing.
Barry: Pop-Pop, Dad said to get bent and buy your own.
Pop-Pop: I wasn't asking for a free pretzel. Tell that ungrateful bastard he still owes me $17. He can take it out of my tab.