And go they went. All the way to St, Cloud, Minnesota, Marshall's hometown. And as Lily stepped into her fiancee's boyhood home, she received a big welcome.
Marshall: Hello! We're home!
A very big welcome. You see, at 6-foot-4, Marshall was the runt of the Eriksen clan.
Lily: Wow, I forgot how tall you guys are.
Father: Where's my almost daughter-in-law?
Lily: Here I am!
Father: Over here! Well, you got yourself a great little bride here, Son. All right, now, no farting around. Put your skates and your pads on, boys. Game on in five minutes.
Marshall: Yeah. All right.
Lily: Oh, you gonna play hockey?
Father: Hike, hut!
Lily: With a basketball?
Father: Well, it's a combination of the two. We call it "bask-ice-ball."
Marshall: We invented it. It's the most dangerous and awesome sport in the world.
Lily: Bask-ice-ball? Not ice-ket-ball?
Father: "Ice-ket-ball"? Just sounds weird.
Marcus: It's bask-ice-ball, okay? And I'm the best.
Marshall: Oh, you wish.
Lily: Oh, well, maybe that's just 'cause you haven't seen me play.
Marshall: I don't know, honey. It's not really a sport for a girl.
Lily: Well, that's funny, 'cause your brother throws like a girl.