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

Sheldon: I need telescope time to search for exoplanets, and Dr. Linkletter and Dr. Sturgis have denied my request.
President Hagemeyer: Why?
Sheldon: They said that kind of research would expose both me and the university to criticism.
President Hagemeyer: [stifled laugh] Well, that's outrageous.
Sheldon: So, you'll give me access?
President Hagemeyer: Gosh, no. I want to, but... I'm just the president. [chuckles] Use of the telescope has to be approved by a... science advisor.
Sheldon: Is that true?
President Hagemeyer: Does it sound true?
Sheldon: I suppose it does.
President Hagemeyer: Then I suppose it is.
Sheldon: Why did I even come to you?
President Hagemeyer: [gasps] Remember that next time.

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.

Sheldon: President Hagemeyer, we have a problem.
President Hagemeyer: What now, Sheldon? The Yoo-hoos in the vending machine aren't cold enough?
Sheldon: Actually, they aren't, but we'll table that for later.

Dr. John Sturgis: Societal norms are different on road trips. Normally, I don't eat junk food, but here, it's tradition. I'm not even sure what a chicharron is.
Sheldon: It's the deep-fried skin of a pig.
Dr. John Sturgis: That seems like something they should say on the bag.

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.