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

Missy: Eat dirt. Eat it.
Meemaw: Kick his ass!
Missy: Does it taste good? Huh?
Dale: Yeah, listen to your meemaw. Kick his ass!
Missy: You gonna cry? Huh? Do it. Cry.
Mary: Do something. Break it up.
George Sr.: H-Hang on. She's winning.
Mary: Missy! Missy Cooper, you stop beating up that boy!
Meemaw: Punch him in the nuts!

Missy: Someone's Underoos are in a knot.
Sheldon: My Underoos are fitting just fine, thank you.
Missy: Then why is there a stick up your butt?
Sheldon: Stop making inquiries about my bottom.
Missy: But I enjoy it.

[Sheldon sits on the top of the couch with his feet on the cushion]
Missy: What are you doing?
Sheldon: I'm practicing the philosophy of cynicism... The ancient Greek view that the rules of society should be ignored.
Missy: If you're gonna break rules, you can do better than that.
Sheldon: How?
[Missy pushes Sheldon off the couch]

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

George Sr.: I'll be right back.
George Jr.: Mind if I have a sip of your beer?
George Sr.: You mind if I dip your head in the compost heap?
George Jr.: You could have just said no.