Missy: I don't know what I'm doing wrong.
Dale: Ah, don't worry about it. It's not your fault.
Missy: It isn't?
Dale: No, I'm the one that let a girl pitch. It's my mistake.
Missy: What? I've won so many games.
Dale: Oh, that was then.
Missy: Why are you being so mean?
Dale: Well, why are you getting so emotional, like women do? Maybe you ought to be a cheerleader.
Missy: You trying to make me mad?
Dale: Is it working?
Missy: Yeah.
Dale: Well, I tell you what, picture my face in the catcher's mitt.

Meemaw: Where we eating tonight?
Dale: Well, that depends. Why don't you look in the glovebox and check on the Tums situation.
Meemaw: There's five.
Dale: Oh, my, this is tricky. Well, Mexican's at least three apiece.
Meemaw: We might get by with two each if it's Italian.
Dale: You get red wine and then tomato sauce. Hey, if they put lemon in the water, we're dead.
Meemaw: Hmm. That leaves barbecue.
Dale: Sold.
Meemaw: Who gets Tum number three?
Dale: Me. They're my Tums.

Meemaw: I'll have the rib eye, medium rare.
Waiter: And for you?
Dale: Uh, just the house salad, please.
Waiter: Very good.
Meemaw: House salad? You watching your figure?
Dale: I have a physical tomorrow.
Meemaw: Oh, so your plan is to start eating healthy now?
Dale: Can't hurt.
Meemaw: It ain't gonna undo years of red meat and beer.
Dale: I'm not trying to undo it, I'm just trying to hide it under some lettuce.

Meemaw: I got to go open up the gambling room. Can you watch her for about an hour?
Dale: I just had coffee and a bowl of Raisin Bran. Next hour is spoken for.
Meemaw: You could've just said no.
Dale: I'm trying to keep the romance alive.

George: All right, almost there. Hand me a screwdriver.
Billy Sparks: Don't stick this in an outlet. It really tingles.
Brenda Sparks: We had an incident.

Umpire: Strike!
Missy: Yes!
Dale: Aw, don't get all hysterical, little girl!
Missy: You suck!
Dale: You suck!
Missy: No! You suck!
Umpire: Strike!
Dale: I am the leader of the little people.

Adult Sheldon: Of all the tests one takes in school, my favorite was the midterm. Finals weren't bad, but they also meant summer was approaching. I don't believe in religion, but sunshine, picnics and pool parties are proof hell exists.