Howard: There must be another way.
Raj: You could try calling AAA. But based on NASA's latest timetable, they wouldn't be out there for another 35 years.
Sheldon: Plus, I understand you need to be standing next to the vehicle with your card when they arrive.

Sheldon: Doesn't anyone wanna know where he's going?
Penny: Okay, where is he going?
Sheldon: Leonard is going to the office.

Sheldon: What happened?
Leonard: Howard's at the Mars Rover lab. He says he's in trouble. DEFCON 5.
Sheldon: DEFCON 5? Well, there's no need to rush.
Leonard: What?
Sheldon: DEFCON 5 means no danger. DEFCON 1 is a crisis.

Sheldon: So what exactly do you want us to do?
Howard: I need you and Raj to help me get the Rover out of the ditch, and I need you to get Stephanie out before somebody notices she's here. She doesn't exactly have clearance.
Sheldon: Really? They don't let strange women from honky-tonks come in and play with $200million government projects on distant planets?

Howard: My mother is so gonna love her.
Sheldon: Oh, how nice. Maybe they can carpool when they visit you in federal prison.

Howard: OK, I guess we have to turn to Plan B.
Raj: What's Plan B?
Howard: Erase all the hard drives, scrap the surveillance tapes, wipe our fingerprints off every surface and run.
Sheldon: Why wasn't that Plan A?

Sheldon: Will you all excuse me? Leonard is subtly signaling that he'd like to talk to me in private.

Sheldon: This would have worked out a lot better if you'd just told me you were going the office.
Leonard: I'm going to the office.
Sheldon: See, why don't I believe you?

Leonard: Hi, Howard. Howard?
Howard: Sheldon.
Sheldon: Howard is employing a schoolyard paradigm in which you are, for all intents and purposes, deceased. He intends to act on this by not speaking to you, feigning an inability to hear you when you speak and otherwise refusing to acknowledge your existence.
Leonard: That's just ridiculous. Why are you cooperating with him?
Sheldon: I don't make the rules, Leonard.

Leonard: Howard, come on, I didn't plan on this. These things just happen. Usually not to me, but they do happen.
Howard: Did someone just feel a cold breeze?
Sheldon: I believe this is an extension of the death metaphor. The cold breeze is the so-called ectoplasmic issue of a disembodied soul passing by.

Sheldon: Is my hamburger medium-well?
Leonard: Yes.
Sheldon: Dill slices not sweet?
Leonard: Yes.
Sheldon: Individual relish packets?
Leonard: Yes.
Sheldon: Onion rings?
Leonard: Yes.
Sheldon: Extra-breading?
Leonard: I asked.
Sheldon: What did they say?
Leonard: No.
Sheldon: Did you protest?
Leonard: Yes.
Sheldon: Vociferously?
Leonard: No.
Sheldon: Well then what took you so long?

Sheldon: *On computer screen* Greetings, hamburger toucher. You are probably wondering why you cannot IM with your little friends about how much you heart various things. Well, this recorded message is alerting you that I am putting an end to your parasitic piggybacking upon our WiFi. If you want to remedy the situation you can contact the phone company, set up your own WiFi and pay for it, or you may apologize to me.

Sheldon: When you understand the laws of physics, Penny, anything is possible. And may I add, "Mwah, ha, ha."

Sheldon: (Playing Boggle) Oh, worf. Nice. Too bad that's a proper noun.

Penny: What was my first strike?
Sheldon: March 18th, you violated my rule about forwarding email humor.
Penny: I did?
Sheldon: The photo of the cat who wants to "Has Cheeseburger?"
Penny: Oh, come on, everybody loves Lolcats. They're cute and they can't spell because they're cats.
Sheldon: I trusted you with my email address and you betrayed that trust by sending me internet banality. Strike one. Touching my food. Strike two.