Mr. Glascott: You're right, Beverly. The world would look different through Kareem Abdul-Jabbar's eyes. [chuckles]

Adult Adam: [v.o.] Barry had considered everything, except that this was a terrible idea.
[montage:]
Pop-Pop: I'm completely alone. Every sound at night is just a burglar coming to extinguish the pain of existence.
Bill Lewis: Sure, there were some dark days after Lainey left. Dark, dark, daaaaark days. And nights, which are naturally dark.
Mr. Glascott: I currently fill my time updating "John and Bev's Adventure List." This notebook contains over 100 fun activities and vacations that you and I can go on once Adam's out of my way.
Pop-Pop: I spend my evenings at the window flinging pistachio shells at the mice I've given names to. Oh, who am I kidding? They're rats!
Bill Lewis: Never cleaned Lainey's room. She'd left a bowl of Doritos that rotted into mushy green triangles. Every once in a while, I'd eat one and I swear I can hear her laughter.
Mr. Glascott: And if you look on page 37, you'll see the Ottawa Non-Alcoholic Wine Festival.
Bill Lewis: But eventually, you get up, brush your tongue, and pretend life is okay.
Pop-Pop: Every time I fall, I say, "This is where I'm going to die."
Mr. Glascott: It's just Canadian grape juice. But the real buzz comes from the people.

Adam: Hey, Mr. Glascott, got a second?
Mr. Glascott: For a recent graduate who's off my books? Absolutely not. Shut the door behind you, and have a great life.
Adam: Please!
Mr. Glascott: Adam, I just spent the last hour at the Home Ec sewing machine altering my own pants so they could fit a third grader who wet himself. I need this cinnabon bad.
Adam: But I'm really worried about my mom. I need you to have a heartfelt one-on-one with her.
Mr. Glascott: Well, as you know, heartfelt one-on-ones are kinda my thing.
Adam: I know she's gonna be devastated when I go away to NYU, but she's putting on a brave face. Can you find out how she's really feeling?
Mr. Glascott: As an admired and esteemed guidance counselor, the best man is on the job. [stands up]
Adam: Odd. I've never seen your legs before.
Mr. Glascott: Well, we all have them. Some are just skinnier than others. And do not touch that cinnabon.

Mr. Glascott: Adam's gonna be gone soon. And I was wondering how you're feeling about living with nothing but the echoes of his footsteps.
Beverly: [sighs] Oh, I'll miss him, of course, but it's time, you know?
Mr. Glascott: It is. So, what if you fall down?
Beverly: Fall down?
Mr. Glascott: You're making sauce, it splatters, you slip and fall. Next thing you know, you're lying on your back, legs akimbo.
Beverly: I would never spill my sauce. [both chuckle] Unless it's on a bed of linguine with parmed shrimp.
Mr. Glascott: Sounds delicious. I'll be by later. But my point is, you're alone and helpless because Adam isn't there.
Beverly: Well, what about Barry? Or Geoff, or Erica? Or my father-in-law?
Mr. Glascott: They're at a movie.
Beverly: So? They'll be home soon.
Mr. Glascott: It's The Right Stuff. Running time is over three hours.
Beverly: I'll pull the phone down.
Mr. Glascott: It's dead.
Beverly: Why?
Mr. Glascott: You were overwhelmed with loneliness and forgot to pay the bill. Your world has gone dark. Tell me I'm wrong, Beverly.
Beverly: You are! I am ready for this! And when I am alone, I will tell myself, if my friend John can handle it, then so can I.
Mr. Glascott: Me?
Beverly: Yes! I mean, you're alone almost every day, and you manage. Sure, you've got that bird, but it's not a person.
Mr. Glascott: Well, she says stuff.
Beverly: She repeats stuff.
Mr. Glascott: Uh-huh. I got a lot to re-examine.
Beverly: Thank you for always thinking of me. It means so much.
Mr. Glascott: Whatever.

Adam: Mr. Glascott, I need to talk to you.
Mr. Glascott: Is it about my provocative sunbathing? Honor the code of the neighbor's fence and stop peering over.

Adam: This is about something very different... Barry.
Mr. Glascott: Ooh. Family intrigue. Dish the dirt, you sassy hen.
Adam: Okay, I guess. In the wake of my dad's passing, Barry's trying to fill his shoes... Metaphorically, of course. In reality, my dad's shoes were disgusting, as they housed his feet.
Mr. Glascott: He once stole my newspaper barefoot, so I know. And exactly what is Barry doing?
Adam: Well, for one, he keeps trying to spend time with me because he knows I miss my girlfriend.
Mr. Glascott: How dare he!
Adam: Yeah.
Mr. Glascott: Wait, that sounds surprisingly evolved. If your brother Barry, who has historically been a buffoon, is stepping up in a kind way, I say let him.

Mr. Glascott: Yeah, I was way wrong. Barry can't be the man of the house.
Adam: You're right, Mr. Glascott. He can't. But someone else can. [hands Mr. Glascott "Your Changing Body"]
Mr. Glascott: Is it me? Because I'm very not interested. [opens book] Whoa. Slow down, book. I'm only on page 7.

Adam: And now that I've filed the proper paperwork, my first order of business as man of the house... Barry, clean the gutters!
Barry: [scoffs] What? It's the beginning of fall. Only a crazy person would expend the shoulder strength on such a fool's errand. I command you to do your homework.
Adam: It's pretty well established I'm a college dropout, dude. Now go get the ladder and your leaf-scooping gloves.
Mr. Glascott: Ooh. We got a classic man-off brewing in our midsts. It's utterly meaningless, but it beats hanging streamers.

Mr. Glascott: Hello, neighbor. Where are you headed this All Hallows' Eve? Perhaps to go trick-or-treating with your becostumed amigos? You should know that you are still teensy enough to get candy without judgment.
Adam: And you should know I'm uncomfortable with you assessing my body.
Mr. Glascott: I hear that more than I should.
Adam: And I'm not going out. I don't have a social life anymore since all my friends went off to college.
Mr. Glascott: Oh, goodness! My burble and chatter has opened up some deep wounds.
Adam: It's fine. I'm just gonna hang here and eat this entire bowl of Mounds.
Mr. Glascott: Holy coconut delights! Mounds are a delicious treat, but only in moderation. You must really be hurting and lonely.

Mr. Glascott: The city does bring out the worst in us, but great news, I can give you a ride.
Adam: You're going to New York?
Mr. Glascott: It's the annual Prince impersonator competition, "Prince-o-ween"!
Adam: That can't be right.
Mr. Glascott: I didn't come up with it. But I'm gonna dominate it. That's why I'm here. I'm gonna borrow a pair of sparkly purple boots from your mom. She is a generous, big-footed lady.
Adam: She can clomp with the best of 'em.