Dr. John Sturgis: Ooh, perhaps the cold dark matter we're looking for is not the axion but the majoron.
Sheldon: Uh-huh.
Dr. John Sturgis: That's it? I just laid down some big boy science.
Sheldon: Sorry. We lost a great man today, and no one seems to care.
Dr. Linkletter: Asimov?
Sheldon: Yes, Asimov.
Dr. Linkletter: I told three people the news, and you know what they said?
Sheldon: "Who's that?"
Dr. Linkletter: Exactly. What's wrong with the world? The man's a legend.
Sheldon: I didn't know you were a fan.
Dr. Linkletter: Ever since I read The Naked Sun. I'll admit, I came for the naked, but I stayed for the interplanetary conspiracies.

Sheldon: Dr. Linkletter, I need to talk to you.
Dr. Linkletter: Are we in my office?
Sheldon: No.
Dr. Linkletter: Then these are not my office hours.
Sheldon: Are you using my love of schedules against me?
Dr. Linkletter: [chuckles] Oh, yes.
Sheldon: Well done.

Dr. Linkletter: Sheldon, thank you for coming in. I want to apologize for our little tiff earlier.
Sheldon: You're forgiven.
Dr. Linkletter: Oh. Great. I found something that might be of interest to you. An authentic signature from Richard Feynman.
Sheldon: Where did you get this?
Dr. Linkletter: Details aren't important.
Sheldon: Is this a restraining order?
Dr. Linkletter: Not important.
Sheldon: That's actually a really good way to get autographs. I'll have to keep that in mind.

Jim: Here we are. Grab a shovel and dig in. There you go.
Dr. Linkletter: I spent the summer in Italy once.
Georgie: Bringing back memories?
Dr. Linkletter: No.

Sheldon: Oh, I'm assuming you heard the bad news.
Mary: What news?
Sheldon: Isaac Asimov died.
Mary: Oh, no, is that one of your school friends?
Sheldon: What? No, he's one of the most prolific science fiction writers in the history of the genre.
George: Never heard of him.
Sheldon: Sure you have. He wrote I, Robot, the Foundation trilogy.
George: Nope.
Sheldon: Nightfall? The Posotronic Man?
George: You ever heard of this guy?
Mary: Mm-mm.
Sheldon: Caves of Steel. Hostess. The Naked Sun?
George: Whoever he is, sorry he died. Gotta go. Bye.
Mary: Bye.
Adult Sheldon: Astonishing. Asimov wrote almost 500 books, which was apparently 500 more than my family had read.

Dr. Linkletter: [on answer phone] Connie, Grant Linkletter. Wonderful seeing you tonight.
Meemaw: Yeah, yeah.
Dr. Linkletter: Hope you enjoyed our little book club. If you'd ever like to discuss it further, I know the perfect Italian café. The cannolis are resplendent.
Meemaw: Resplendent! [chuckles] [machine beeps]
Dr. John Sturgis: [on answer phone] Connie! John Sturgis here.
Meemaw: What a surprise.
Dr. John Sturgis: It was so nice to have you at our book club. When it comes to science fiction, those things can be real sausage parties. Anyhoo, if you're free next week, I was wondering if you'd like to... [Meemaw skips to the next message]
Dr. Linkletter: Grant Linkletter again. If you don't like Italian, I also know a sublime Vietnamese spot. Have you ever tried Bún Boò Hue? [machine beeps]
Dr. John Sturgis: I don't know why I said "sausage party." There was probably a better way to phrase that. [machine beeps]
Dr. Linkletter: Connie, Grant Linkletter...

Georgie: [answers phone] Hello?
Dale: Hi, it's Dale. Listen, you gotta tell your dad.
Georgie: Well, I will, eventually.
Dale: Well, if you don't, I'm gonna.
Georgie: I just need more time to figure things out.
Dale: Well, your dad's sniffing around here, he's asking a lot of questions.
Georgie: What kind of questions?
Dale: Like why are you talking to me instead of him?
Georgie: Why does he care?
Dale: His feelings are hurt.
Georgie: That's weird.
Dale: I know. 'Cause talking to you ain't great.
George: [opens door] Can I get a hand with something?
Dale: Yeah. [on the phone] Oh, gotta go. I love you, Mom. Bye-bye. [hangs up]
George: Your mom's still alive?
Dale: Huh?