Dr. John Sturgis: So far, the data is extremely promising. Five microkelvin!
President Hagemeyer: Ah. Well, you seem excited, so... cool.

Dr. Linkletter: I cannot work with that creepy little know-it-all one more day.
President Hagemeyer: I-I'm sorry, but are we talking about Sheldon or Sturgis?
Dr. Linkletter: Sturgis. Well, both, but mostly Sturgis.
[cut to:]
Dr. John Sturgis: He's not interested in anyone else's input.
President Hagemeyer: I-I'm sorry, Sheldon or Linkletter?
Dr. John Sturgis: Linkletter.
President Hagemeyer: Ah, got it. Continue.

Dr. John Sturgis: I was brought in to help but Dr. Linkletter doesn't value my input.
President Hagemeyer: Oh, I hear you. That must be tough.
[cut to:]
Dr. Linkletter: Ever since he was brought back, he contradicts everything I say.
President Hagemeyer: I hear you. That must be tough.
[cut to:]
Sheldon: There was a time when their arguing brought out the best in them, but now it's just hindering our work.
President Hagemeyer: I hear you. That must be tough.

President Hagemeyer: But I thought you wanted Dr. Sturgis on this project.
Dr. Linkletter: I'll admit John has been useful, but now he's just slowing us down.
President Hagemeyer: Well, he keeps Sheldon happy, and when Sheldon's happy, he's not in this office.
Dr. Linkletter: Well, but when he's not in your office, he's in my office.
President Hagemeyer: Eh, "dem's da breaks." [chuckles]

Pat: Look, you seem like nice folk, but Yankees ain't popular around here. I suggest you be on your way.
Dr. Linkletter: Sorry to have troubled you. Let's go.
Sheldon: Excuse me. My colleagues may be from the North, but for your information, I'm a Texan, born and bred. I know that real chili has no beans, and when my meemaw says, "Bless your heart," she means something very different. Now, my friend here is in need of help, and since our state motto is literally "friendship," may he please use your phone?
Pat: Well, dang. [puts the phone on the bar]
Dr. John Sturgis: And could I trouble you for a yellow pages?
Dr. Linkletter: Oh, boy.

Adult Sheldon: After a quick burial behind the bar, we were back on the road. Dr. Sturgis tried to find some appropriate music for a proper send-off. Three Christian talk shows and a whole lot of static later, he settled on what he declared the Dixieland jazz of West Texas. ["El Son de la Negra / Guadalajara" playing] Mariachi.
Dr. John Sturgis: Vaya con dios, armadillo. Vaya con dios.

Dr. John Sturgis: I'm doing it. This is going quite well.
Dr. Linkletter: Feel free to pick up the pace. A butterfly just passed us.
Dr. John Sturgis: Well, what's the speed limit?
Sheldon: 75.
Dr. John Sturgis: And I'm going... ten. I'll pick up the pace.