Beverly: Welcome to phase one of your fabulous 50th redo party.
All: [sing] Happy Bir...
Murray: Not happy and no parties. I'll be in the shed.
Geoff: Check it out. The breeze from his angry walk-by blew out the candles.
Pops: I wonder what he wished for.
Erica: If I had to guess, to sit in the shed.

Beverly: Welcome, family and friends of Murray Goldberg. I've assembled this dream team, and Essie, together to brainstorm some ideas for Murray's 50th surprise party. Geoff will be writing down your ideas.
Erica: Here's an idea. We don't throw Dad a party because he clearly said he doesn't want one.
Beverly: Boo! Don't write that down.
Pops: But Erica's right, Bevy. The man chose a shed over cake.
Beverly: That's only because he has never truly had a birthday. Now, once Murray understands the joy of celebrating his special day, that shed won't seem like such a fun option.

Coach Mellor: You boys are in luck. Not only are you being trained by a pickleball champion, but that champion happens to have his own court. Ha-ha!
Adam: Uh, you mean this sad dirt patch?
Barry: And the net's all broken.
Adam: You don't need a net. I don't know anything about pickleball, but I'm pretty sure you do.
Barry: It's, like, the only thing you need.
Coach Mellor: [whistle blows] Let's get to work.

Adam: Ooh! I brought the heat.
Coach Mellor: That's one spicy pickle, Goldfarb.
Barry: We did good work here today, Coach.
Coach Mellor: We really did. This is the first time since I escaped that compound by foot that I've felt anything but numb.
Barry: What happened there?
Coach Mellor: I'm not ready.
Adam: But I think I kinda am.
Coach Mellor: I say when you're kinda ready. You're ready. Kinda.

Beverly: Everyone, come on in. Welcome to Murmania. [gasps]
Linda: Murmania?
Beverly: Indeed. A love letter to my husband in party form. You might want to remove your shoes, 'cause I'm about to knock your socks off.
Vic: Well, I've got a wicked bunion, but okay.

Beverly: Behold.
Vic: Holy moly. Is that the guy from Channel Five who hits the chime when he does the weather? [xylophone chimes] I'd recognize that simple chime anywhere.
Beverly: Tonight's forecast... 100% chance of Murray's tears of joy.
Virginia: Oh, my. What's happening here?
Beverly: Oh, tonight, it's the dining and reclining room.
Vic: Whoa, pretzel-y milk and lumbar support.
Erica: But wait. There's more. Please welcome Lee of Lee's Hoagies.
Beverly: And for our final special guest of the night, someone my husband has admired for years, the Phillie Phanatic! [party horn honking] [guests cheer]
Vic: Oh! [laughs] The San Diego Chicken's mortal enemy. You've done it again, Beverly.

Erica: You know what, Mom? This is crazy, and not in your usual clinical way.
Beverly: Aww.
Erica: Honestly, Dad is gonna love this.
Beverly: Well, after I asked you fools what Murray would like, I realized nobody knows that man better than me, his perfect wife with the beautiful hair and skin.
Erica: Oh, Dad's walking up the driveway.
Beverly: Oh. Uh, okay. Everybody, shut up! Shut up. Shut your faces. Even you, Phillie Phanatic.
Vic: Beverly, I don't think he has a working mouth.
All: Surprise!
Adult Adam: [v.o.] In that moment, my Dad took in everything my mom did to make his birthday redo perfect, and all he did was this. [Murray walks upstairs] [xylophone chimes]
Beverly: Why, Chime Guy?

Principal Ball: Well, well, well. Look who heard the siren song of the pickle and came running back home.
Coach Mellor: Mr. March.
Principal Ball: In the flesh. Is your protege ready to bring that hot dill?
Adam: All that stands in the way of a letterman jacket and film school is chopping a backspin to the baseline.
Principal Ball: I hope you play as smooth as you talk. Schernecke! Goldberg, you beat our worst player, you're on the team.
Matt Scherneke: Wait. I'm our worst player?
Principal Ball: Sorry you had to hear it this way, but glad we don't have to tiptoe around it anymore. Go get 'em.

Adult Adam: [v.o.] Sometimes, if you're lucky enough, life gives you a second chance. It might not happen the way you thought it would, but often, you'll find the biggest wins are off the court. Turns out, no matter how you count the years, time keeps moving. And sure, it's easy to fear getting older, but the truth is, if you're busy worrying about the past, you might not notice that the present moments are often the perfect ones. And in the end, those are the ones you'll remember forever.
Pop-Pop: Here. I, uh, got ya something. Don't make a big deal. Now you can listen to all your ball games or whatever.
Murray: I love it!
Pop-Pop: Yeah, well, anyway, uh... Happy birthday.
Adult Adam: [v.o.] So, that's the story of the second time my dad turned 50 and how he always said it was one of the best nights of his life.

Principal Ball: Well, well, well. Look who came to dance one last pickle.
Coach Mellor: Hey, Mr. March, or should I say, Mr. March Your Ass Out of Here on a Stretcher?
Principal Ball: That was tortured. Like your forehand. I hope you got your hot dog ready, because you're about to be relish, my friend.
Coach Mellor: Bring the pickle!