Missy: What's with the maps?
Sheldon: I'm going with Dr. Sturgis and Dr. Linkletter to a radio telescope in the Davis Mountains.
Missy: [sighs] Of course you are.
George: Problem?
Missy: Nope. He gets to do whatever he wants, and I'm not even allowed to go the beach with my friends.
George: It's just a school trip.
Missy: It's fine.

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."

Dr. Sandra Thorpe: Have you always been that way?
Missy: I guess so. I think when you're on your own a lot, you get good at seeing that kind of stuff.
Dr. Sandra Thorpe: Really?
Missy: My dad does football with my older brother, so they're like a team. And my mom and meemaw spend all their time fussing over Sheldon, so they're like a team, too.
Dr. Sandra Thorpe: So no one's on your team?
Missy: Nope. It's just me.

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.