Herschel Sparks: Well, howdy, neighbor.
George: Hey, Herschel.
Herschel Sparks: What brings you by? Chickens too loud?
George: Nah, they been fine.
Herschel Sparks: Good, good. Fried up the noisy one last week. That shut him up.

Herschel Sparks: I appreciate that, but you got to know there's an upside to this.
George: And that would be?
Herschel Sparks: Your son has got a special gift.
George: A gift? We are talking about Georgie, right?
Herschel Sparks: Yeah. I mean, first off, the kid really knows his way around an engine, which is all well and good. But when it comes to fixing tires, I swear, I've never seen anything like him.
George: Tires? How do you mean?
Herschel Sparks: George, I've been patching flats for 25 years. You know, slap some soapy water on them, look for the air bubble. But your son, he doesn't need any tricks. He knows where the puncture holes are.
George: He knows?
Herschel Sparks: He knows. He's got a sixth sense for tire damage. I mean, you got to see him in action. It'll give you chills.
George: You know, now that you say it, whenever we had a leaky football, he knew exactly where the hole was.
Herschel Sparks: I am telling you, your boy's got a future in the tire business. Goodyear, Firestone, somebody's gonna scoop him up first round.

Herschel Sparks: On an unrelated note, uh, you doing something new with your hair? It looks, uh, real pretty.
Mary: No, but thank you. Okay, well, I'm gonna leave you to it.
Herschel Sparks: Smells good, too.
Mary: All right. Bye-bye.
Herschel Sparks: Hey, you want chicken for dinner? I'll slaughter a big one for you right now.
Mary: I'm good.
Herschel Sparks: I'll kill one in case you change your mind. Now which one of you's tired of this life? You.

George: Thanks for hearin' me out.
Herschel Sparks: Your wife sent you over here, didn't she?
George: I don't want to talk about it.
Herschel Sparks: I bet she did!
George: Not talkin' about it!
Herschel Sparks: Tell her I said hi!

George: The little Sparks girl?
Mary: You're kidding. She seems so sweet.
Georgie: He says she slaps him around, takes his lunch money. She even put a tadpole down his shirt.
Meemaw: Poor kid. He tucks in those shirts.

Adult Sheldon: Existing in a world of predators isn't easy, but we prey have developed several natural defenses to help us survive. There's playing dead, warning calls, camouflage, and, last but certainly not least, good old-fashioned running away. A little screaming never hurts either.

Mary: She looks harmless.
Meemaw: She's cute. So she probably gets away with stuff. I'm like that.