Georgie: This is serious. Sheldon, you've got to tell Dad that recipe.
Sheldon: But Meemaw told me it was a secret.
Georgie: If you don't, and Mom and Dad get a divorce, it's your fault.
Sheldon: All right. Fine.
Missy: Good job, Soggy Pants.

Mary: Missy, if you want a minute with Dad before they close the casket, now's the time. [Missy looks unsure] It's okay if you don't.
Mary: I have to. [Missy stands up and walks up to her father's casket]
[flashback:]
George: Here, let me help you with that. Okay.
Missy: [eats] Holy moly.
George: It's good, huh?
Missy: Unbelievable.
George: I'll leave you to it.
Missy: No, sit with me.
George: Okay.
[present:]
Missy: [crying] Thank you for that. Thank you for everything. [sniffles] I love you.

Sheldon: Is Mom okay?
George: How the heck should I know?
Missy: She left. You can say "hell."

Sheldon: While Dad's gone, I'm the man of the house, and the man of the house has to enforce the rules.
Missy: The man of the house is about to get his teeth knocked out.
Sheldon: Puberty's made you mean.
Missy: I need to know what happened on my show.
Sheldon: And you'll find out when your privileges are restored.
Missy: I can't wait that long, each episode builds on the last. Imagine a Star Trek that ends with "to be continued," and you don't get to continue.
Sheldon: That would never happen, because I follow the rules.
Missy: You are this close to a purple nurple.
Sheldon: [covers nipples] You leave my nurples alone.

Georgie: And I wasn't eavesdropping.
George: Don't worry about it.
Georgie: I just don't see why I got grounded.
George: What are you complaining about? You didn't want to go to church picnic anyway.
Georgie: I like complaining. I'm good at it.

Adult Sheldon: The average American consumes 55 pounds of beef per year. And then there's Texas, where we can knock that off in a couple of months. Maybe faster, if we're talking about smoked brisket. Curiously, the one cut of beef that Texans and Jews agree upon.

Adult Sheldon: Finally, the cooking began. 14 hours of cooking. And basting. And spritzing. And tending to the fire.
George: Oh. Rest, my darling. Rest.