George Sr.: Here we are.
Missy: Red Lobster?
George Sr.: You love this place.
[flashback:]
Missy: Holy moly.
George Sr.: It's good, huh?
Missy: Unbelievable.
[present:]
Missy: Yeah, when I was, like, eight.
George Sr.: Well, come on, we had our first daddy-daughter date here.
Missy: Oh, my God, don't ever call it that again.
George Sr.: What?
Missy: I have friends who come here on actual dates. They might see us.
George Sr.: Thought it'd be nice.
Missy: Can we please go anywhere else?
George Sr.: [sighs] Fine. You know, they have those cheddar biscuits.
Missy: Dad.
George Sr.: Fine.

George Sr.: And Sheldon's fine. You know what he's like. If someone took him, I'm sure they'll bring him right back.

Sheldon: There's going to be a lecture on carbon dating at the Natural Science Museum on Saturday. Who would like to take me?
George Sr.: You know what? I'd be happy to.
Meemaw: What happened to helping me at my yard sale?
George Sr.: Ooh, is that this Saturday? I'm sorry. I'm taking him to a lecture on, uh what is it? Carbonation?
Sheldon: Carbon dating. A method of determining the age of artifacts and fossils.
George Sr.: Hey, we could use that to figure out how old your grandma is.
Sheldon: That won't work. You can't carbon-date something that's alive.
George Sr.: Well, then, we'll just chop her down and count the rings.
Meemaw: Oh, George, did my "lump of clay" remark strike a nerve?
George Sr.: A little.

Meemaw: I bowled a new high score last night.
George Sr.: Nice.
Meemaw: I got two turkeys.
Missy: What's a turkey?
Meemaw: It's three strikes in a row.
Missy: Why do they call it a turkey?
Meemaw: Well, when they first invented bowling, they used to just throw frozen turkeys at the pins. Eventually, they switched to balls to cut down on the smell.
George Sr.: Why you lying to her?
Meemaw: I find it keeps my mind sharp.

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: 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.