Georgie: So, where you want to go?
Mandy: I am up for anything.
Georgie: I was thinking the bar, but I go there so much. What about a movie?
Mandy: Or we could just go back to your place.
Georgie: Oh. That- That'd be amazing.
Mandy: Well, amazing's a lot of pressure, but I'll give it a shot. [chuckles]
Georgie: Listen, when I said I moved out of my parents' place, that was true. But I'm kind of living in their garage.
Mandy: Well, my parents are in the bedroom next to mine, so it's your place or nothing.
Georgie: My place works.

Georgie: Maybe you should go across the street and apologize.
George: I can't do that.
Georgie: Why not?
George: 'Cause if I do, it sets a bad precedent.
Georgie: What's Nixon got to do with it?
George: What?
Georgie: You said "bad president," like Nixon. You know, this guy.

Georgie: What are you doing?
George: Separating the whites from the colors.
Georgie: Whoa, that's racist.

Missy: Do you believe in God?
Georgie: Yeah.
Missy: But in the Bible, he does all kinds of mean stuff. If he's good, why would he do that?
Georgie: Maybe he just wants to show he's in charge. Hulk Hogan's nice, but in the ring, he will mess you up.
Missy: That's either really smart or really stupid.
Georgie: That's what I do.
Missy: Do you ever wonder if it's all made-up?
Georgie: Look, this is Texas. We like football. We like God. And beef. Beef's up there, too.
Missy: But how do you know there's a God?
Georgie: See that girl dancing in them shorts? There's a God.

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.