Barry: Exactly. The older sister Bee sounds like the alpha. You should steer clear.
Adam: But I really want to meet her. She's obviously important to Brea.
Barry: Then you'll have to earn her respect in the only way possible... out-Claire Claire.
Adam: Right. And that specifically means?
Barry: Crash their sisterly dinner. Wear sunglasses inside. Be in charge. Tell the waitress you'll have the usual, even if you've never been there before. Take her seat even if she's sitting in it.
Adam: And you're certain this will work?
Barry: I'm saying it, so I must be sure. Here's a pad and pen. Take notes. [Adam grabs the pad; Barry knocks it out of his hand] Alphas never take notes! Now pick it up!
Adam: Um... no?
Barry: Good. You've already learned everything I can teach you.

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.

Adult Adam: [v.o.] While my mom made imagined drama between Erica and Geoff, I was about to make my big entrance.
And that night, following Barry's advice, I was the alpha... sorta.
Adam: [to a gumball dispenser] Look out, guy! I'm walkin' here. [to the waitress] I'll have my usual.
Waitress: I don't know you.
Adam: Figure it out... [pulls down sunglasses] Joe's.
Waitress: That's the name of the diner.
Adam: Got it!

Adam: Brea's sister cried.
Barry: You did it! You slayed the dragon. You're the alpha now.
Adam: It doesn't feel like a win. I got to somehow buy Madonna tickets for all three of us.
Barry: Ha! She fooled you with her phony tears? She's back to being the alpha.
Adam: No, the tears were real.
Barry: Boom! You're the alpha again.
Adam: Stop saying "alpha." Brea thinks she and her sister are making progress, but, really, I'm covering for her.
Barry: You've clearly inserted yourself into a very complex family dynamic. Don't know why you tried to be the alpha.

Adam: And now where am I gonna find that kind of money for stupid Madonna tickets?
Barry: Have you seen your room? It's filled with toys. Sell them all.
Adam: But I cherish those.
Barry: Dude, you have like Smurfettes.
Adam: Each one is posed differently.
Barry: Your call, but Brea's gonna be crushed.
Adam: I guess I could part with a few of my lesser Smurfs.
Barry: Barry does it again. Now move it so I can watch this werewolf chap. [laughs]

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.

Erica: My mom's been listening to us through the vent!
Geoff: Oh, no! Why did you make me rank all the Frentas?! Now she knows I put my mom last!
Erica: Did she send Glascott up here to fix our marriage?
Geoff: Obviously, a boy is just not thinking of his mother in that way.
Erica: If she wants to listen to what's going on with our marriage, we'll make it worth her while.
Geoff: I should have just said, "I'm not ranking them." That's so weird!

Geoff: You promised me you were gonna try harder.
Erica: And you promised me a Steak-umm, and, yet, your hand is empty.
Geoff: I'm sick of it!
Erica: [quietly] Nice! You've got some chops. [loudly] And I, too, am sick of it!
Geoff: Why is it so hard for you to consider my feelings?
Erica: Dude, dial it back. You're leaving us nowhere to go.
Geoff: Oh, I'll tell you where I'm going... anywhere but here.
Erica: Are you being serious right now?
Geoff: I am. Sorry to be such a wet blanket. Or should I say "wet towel," something you're more familiar with.