Barry: Stop shopping immediately. I have a menagerie of items that would delight any woman.
Adam: I told you, I don't need your help.
Barry: Opposite! My intimate knowledge of ladies' needs and desires is well-established.
Adam: Is it, though?
Barry: Item one... a deadly titanium crossbow. You and your gal pal can spend a reckless evening at the junkyard shooting out windshields.
Adam: None of this sounds like you waiting in the car.
Barry: Item two... tighty whities, the gentleman's lingerie. You give her a few boudoir photos in these, she'll remember you forever.
Adam: How could she not?
Barry: I've saved the best for last. A bulk warehouse box of Bonkers Fruit Chew candies. When she smooches you to thank you, think of me.
Adam: I'm not giving her pieces of purple candy!
Barry: Whatever! Have fun dying alone with no cavities.

Beverly: [casps] My sweet baby girl is home!
Erica: Relax, we're only here for one week.
Geoff: We have black mold.
Erica: It's really not a big deal.
Beverly: Please, my chiropractor's receptionist's nephew slept in a bedroom with black mold. Soon he was carrying his lungs around in a backpack, which he lost on an airplane, then he had to be hooked up to one of those air pumps you use to inflate pool toys. Now he lives alone in a park ranger tower, where the air is clean and the woods are lonely.
Erica: That seems scientifically accurate, but point is we're only here for one week.
Beverly: A week with my baby and baby-in-law. I'm gonna hug whoever put that black mold in your apartment.
Geoff: You already are.

Barry: Hey! I was watching that! He's an American werewolf, but in London. Think of the culture shock.

Beverly: Oh, Adam, I found it. Perfect gift for the most important woman in your life. It holds coffee and the truth.
Adam: Again, I'm looking for a gift for my girlfriend.
Beverly: It's already in the cart.
Adam: How about this bracelet?
Beverly: Oh, Adam, women like their jewelry to be flashy, ostentatious, and in-your-face big. Think the crown jewels and then double it.
Adam: I have $37.

Beverly: Hey, hey, hey! Look who I found hibernating in the kids' section.
Adam: I can't give Brea that.
Beverly: This is for me. This is my little Adam cuddle surrogate for when you leave me to go to NYU. You can't say no to me, can you, schmoopie? Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!
Adam: You don't know who else kissed that bear. [Beverly laughs]
Barry: Hey, he's wearing the same shirt as you.

Plumber: You got black mold.
Geoff: Oh, no! The silent killer of the microfungus world. How did this happen?
Plumber: Heavy moisture in there. Like maybe you guys are leaving a lot of wet towels lying on the floor?
Geoff: I don't want to name any names, but, yes, someone in this couple habitually offends in the way you mentioned.
Erica: Are you sure that it's black mold? Because the stuff that I was seeing in there looked more doody brown, like your uniform.
Geoff: You saw it and didn't speak up? Erica, anything odd in here, you have to speak up.
Erica: I shared a bathroom with Barry most of my life, so odd stuff is kind of the norm.

Mr. Glascott: [knocks on door] Howdy, neighbor. Oh, hello, newlyweds.
Beverly: They came back, John, for the warmth of Mama's bosom.
Mr. Glascott: Does this mean that our trip to the commemorative plate expo is off?
Beverly: The unspoken caveat of all my plans with you is "if nothing better comes along."
Mr. Glascott: I kind of wish those stinging words had remained unspoken.

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.

Barry: Read everything into it.
Adam: Is that my Push-Up?! I hid it in a bag of frozen corn!
Barry: Oh, I know all your frozen-corn tricks. And it's so obvious. Brea thinks you're a wuss, and she can't bear her sister finding that out.
Adam: That's not true.
Barry: Your clothing, glasses, body shape, hair, face, and smell would beg to differ.
Adam: Too far, but also plausible.

Barry: Okay. What do you know about her?
Adam: I think she's a mechanic.
Barry: Uh-oh. She's a tough badass who likes to get her hands dirty.
Adam: I work with my hands... puppetry, claymation, joy-sticking. Oh, no! We're very different people.