Adam: Who's ready for the best news in the world?
Mr. Glascott: Did Giuseppe's change their policy and are now accepting parties of one? New Year's Eve, here I come.
Adam: No, and wow.

Adult Adam: [v.o.] As Geoff and Barry made their minds up about the summer internship, my mom was determined not to take the cancellation of P.E. sitting down.
Beverly: How could you, Earl? This isn't some silly thing that they're never gonna use like Spanish. This is physical education!
Mr. Glascott: [runs in] Oh. A meeting with a concerned parent. Was this on the books or impromptu? Either way, I'm here. We can begin.
Principal Ball: We've already begun. Mrs. Goldberg wants us to rethink the decision to pull the plug on P.E.
Mr. Glascott: I'll handle this. Beverly, I'm so sorry. Our personal relationship notwithstanding, that ain't gon' happen. [chuckles] See, you can delegate to me. A-And she's twisting my arm! Literally!

Mr. Glascott: I got one. I once paid my girlfriend's rent in Florida for an entire year, even though I knew she was cohabitating with our dog groomer. They went to St. Maarten for a vacation. I paid for that, too.

Mr. Glascott: Um, Beverly, it's sadly naive of you to think that you can just saunter in here and appoint yourself to teach P.E.
Principal Ball: You know what, Bev? You've worn me down. Go for it.
Mr. Glascott: On the other hand, we'll allow it just this once.
Beverly: I'm gonna teach Jazzercise to the lazy seniors. Whoo!

Mr. Glascott: Beverly, it's with a heavy heart and an inadequate knife that I attempt to cut this ice-cream cake that Helen was supposed to remove from the freezer an hour ago.
Helen: I'm also supposed to change out the chili from week to week. What can you do?

Erica: We don't want to stop you from doing anything.
Mr. Glascott: It's not just anything. I don't know if you know this, but I'm an avid trader of commemorative presidential plates. I'm currently one Calvin Coolidge away from a full set.
Erica: I definitely listened all the way through that. We should get settled.
Geoff: I guess I'll be the one to put our bags away.
Mr. Glascott: Ah, young love. Or what I would imagine young love to be. I didn't start dating until I was 27.

Mr. Glascott: No takers on your ricotta-stuffed river fish?
Beverly: Shockingly, no.
Mr. Glascott: Mm.
Beverly: I need to know what's going on between them.
Mr. Glascott: Oh, to be a fly on the wall. [chuckles] Except for the insanely short life-span.
Beverly: That's it. I don't need to get in when I could listen in. To the dining-room air vent, where I've spied on Erica throughout her childhood.
Mr. Glascott: Oh, rats and phooey. I, too, need to know my neighbor's daughter's marital secrets.

Mr. Glascott: I feel like a movie spy. Should we have code names? I'll be "The Snowman," and you'll be "Legs."
Beverly: I'm obviously "Champagne Grizzly." And shh! I don't want to miss anything.

Mr. Glascott: But I need your help. There's this high-school couple that are both trying to get into Rutgers.
Geoff: What couple?
Mr. Glascott: Their names are Jeff and Erica.
Erica: They have the same names as us?
Mr. Glascott: Uh, no. His is Jeff with a "J," not an insane "G," like yours.
Geoff: What's happening?
Mr. Glascott: So, Jeff and Erica... not you... are very much in love, but they have an issue. It seems that Erica's kind of a sneaky pig, and J-Jeff is always having to mop up her sloppy-slop.
Erica: What does this have to do with Rutgers?
Mr. Glascott: Rutgers? Oh, yeah, Rutgers. Now, imagine you, Geoff and Erica, are Jeff and Erica. How would you two talk this out?
Erica: I probably wouldn't, because I haven't been following a single thing that you've said.

Mr. Glascott: Hey, what about you, Geoff who's in front of me? Does the other Jeff have a reason to vent? And by "vent," I mean express one's feelings, not a vent that transmits air and sometimes secrets.
Erica: Um... You know what? Thank you so much, Mr. Glascott. Um, this has been so nice.
Mr. Glascott: Has it? I feel there's been some confusion about the names.
Erica: For sure. I'll see you downstairs.
Mr. Glascott: Okay.