Adult Adam: [v.o.] Back in the '80s, before we had the Internet to diagnose all of our illnesses, we had my mom. That's right. Before there was WebMD, we had BevMD.
Erica: My neck is killing me. I must've slept on it funny.
Beverly: What's that? Neck pain? Can you look down?
Erica: Yeah, I guess.
Beverly: You guess? [scoffs] We're going to the doctor. It's definitely meningitis.
Erica: It's not meningitis!
Beverly: You know who else didn't think they had meningitis? Your cousin Gerald. Then it ate through his spine, and now he's just a human jellyfish they have to carry around in a bucket! Walk away from me. Let me see how you walk. Your gait's uneven. We're going to the doctor!

Beverly: You what? Why haven't you said anything?
Murray: I just tweaked my shoulder reaching for the remote wrong. Don't make a big deal out of it.
Beverly: You can't move your arm. How is that not a big deal?
Murray: It's just a tweak!
Beverly: Or advanced leprosy.
Bill Lewis: Oh, no! That's the worst kind!
Murray: Don't listen to her, Bill.
Beverly: You know who else didn't listen? Myrna Silvman's nephew. And the boy had to move to a Hawaiian island where there are no direct flights. In the end, he was just an ear and a foot.
Bill Lewis: Sweet Lord! I don't want a friend who's just human odds and ends. Go to a doctor!

Adult Adam: [v.o.] But the worst was when you'd get caught between their medical philosophies.
Adam: Dad, does this look normal?
Murray: Considering you're a greasy, oily teen with a zit? Yes.
Beverly: No! That is a spider bite. My nail girl Janae's middle son thought he had a zit, but it was actually a black widow injection point. Next thing he knew, about 100 newborn spiders emerged from his fleshy cheek.
Adam: I don't like the spider eggs in my face, Mama!
Beverly: Murray, start the car. We're going to the E.R.
Murray: Yeah, it's a zit. I'm not doing that.
Beverly: Mama's got you, baby!
Adam: [panting] I don't want the spiders!

Barry: Come on, Erica! Just let me rock The Spectrum with you. This is my dream.
Erica: Oh, my God. You have so many stupid dreams. Why take mine?
Barry: But this one encompasses all of them. First, I wow the crowd with my lyrical gymnastics, thus getting signed to a major record label.
Erica: That's crazy.
Barry: Second, I drop the mic, pick up a hockey stick. The Flyers Wives see my hockey skills and immediately sign me to their husbands' team.
Erica: That's even crazier.
Barry: Third, I drop the hockey stick, pick up a stethoscope, save the charity by curing cancer right there on the ice!
Erica: You will not ruin my legitimate dream with your three ridiculous ones. You're not in the band!

Murray: I told you it's not a big deal. But then you go and blab it to your mob of yentas?
Beverly: I had to, Murray. This way, they'll lay awake all night full of panic and misery, just like me. It's the whole point of friendship.

Murray: Fine, as long as you didn't tell anybody else.
Beverly: No one. I promise.
[There's a knock on the door. Murray opens it.]
Bill Lewis: There's my angel on Earth.
Beverly: I might've mentioned it to one other person.
Bill Lewis: Don't you worry, pal. I'll marry Bev and raise your kids as my own.

Barry: [rec] I just made 1,000 concert T-shirts to sell at our gig. Check it.
Adam: Who's Big Testy?
Barry: [gasp] Oh, no. It implies I have oversized private parts! [gasps] Oh, wait. Nice!
Adam: Not a comedy. Serious stuff.

Adult Adam: [v.o.] And while my mother overreacted to everything, my dad didn't react at all.
Barry: Dad? I fell off the tree trying to get my boomerang, and this happened.
Murray: Just don't pick at it. You'll be fine.
Barry: Yes! I'm going back out! [screaming] Oh! Ow!

Adam: How did this even happen?
Erica: Word of mouth, obviously.
Geoff: For sure. Also, I submitted a demo.
Erica: Oh, my God, Geoff. You are seriously the most amazing boyfriend/band manager ever.
Geoff: Me, manager? Really?
Erica: You got us our big break, Geoff. You've totally earned it.
Geoff: Sweet! If there's one thing I know, managing my hot-tempered girlfriend's band could only end well.

Adam: Problem. This letter's for you and Lainey.
Geoff: Yeah, I submitted their demo six months ago.
Erica: So now they're only getting two-thirds of the band they want? You suck, and you're fired!
Geoff: Oh, no! This didn't end well at all!